dick sands the boy captain by jules verne [redactor's note: _dick sands the boy captain_ (number v in the t&m numerical listing of verne's works) is a translation of _un capitaine de quinze ans_ ( ) by ellen e. frewer who also translated other verne works. the current translation was published by sampson & low in england ( ) and scribners in new york ( ) and was republished many times and included in volume of the parke edition of _the works of jules verne_ ( ). there is another translation published by george munro ( ) in new york with the title _dick sand a captain at fifteen_. this work has an almost mechanical repetiveness in the continuing description of the day after day trials of sailing at sea. thus the illustrations, of which there were in the french edition, are all the more important in keeping up the reader's interest. the titles of the illustrations are given here as a prelude to a future fully illustrated edition.] ***** dick sands the boy captain. by jules verne. translated by ellen e. frewer illustrated ***** contents. part the first i. the "pilgrim" ii. the apprentice iii. a rescue iv. the survivors of the "waldeck" v. dingo's sagacity vi. a whale in sight vii. preparations for an attack viii. a catastrophe ix. dick's promotion x. the new crew xi. rough weather xii. land at last xiv. ashore xv. a stranger xvi. through the forest xvii. misgivings xviii. a terrible discovery part the second i. the dark continent ii. accomplices iii. on the march again iv. rough travelling v. white ants vi. a diving-bell vii. a slave caravan viii. notes by the way ix. kazondÉ x. market-day xi. a bowl of punch xii. royal obsequies xiii. in captivity xiv. a ray of hope xv. an exciting chase xvi. a magician xvii. drifting down the stream xviii. an anxious voyage xix. an attack xx. a happy reunion ***** list of illustrations number title i- -a cousin benedict i- -b captain hull advanced to meet mrs. weldon and her party i- -a negoro i- -b dick and little jack i- -a negoro had approached without being noticed by any one i- -b the dog began to swim slowly and with manifest weakness towards the boat i- -a mrs. weldon assisted by nan and the ever active dick sands, was doing everything in her power to restore consciousness to the poor sufferers i- -b the good-natured negroes were ever ready to lend a helping hand i- -a "there you are, then, master jack!" i- -b jack cried out in the greatest excitement that dingo knew how to read i- -c negoro, with a threatening gesture that seemed half involuntary, withdrew immediately to his accustomed quarters i- -a "this dingo is nothing out of the way" i- -b occasionally dick sands would take a pistol, and now and then a rifle i- -c "what a big fellow!" i- -a the captain's voice came from the retreating boat i- -b "i must get you to keep your eye upon that man" i- -a the whale seemed utterly unconscious of the attack that was threatening it i- -b the boat was well-nigh full of water, and in imminent danger of being capsized i- -c there is no hope i- -a "oh, we shall soon be on shore!" i- -b "oh yes, jack; you shall keep the wind in order" i- -a all three of them fell flat upon the deck i- -b jack evidenced his satisfaction by giving his huge friend a hearty shake of the hand i- -c a light shadow glided stealthily along the deck i- -a for half an hour negoro stood motionless i- -a under bare poles i- -b quick as lightning, dick sands drew a revolver from his pocket i- -c "there! look there!" i- -a "you have acquitted yourself like a man" i- -b they both examined the outspread chart i- -c the sea was furious, and dashed vehemently upon the crags on either hand i- -a surveying the shore with the air of a man who was trying to recall some past experience i- -b not without emotion could mrs. weldon, or indeed any of them, behold the unfortunate ship i- -c the entomologist was seen making his way down the face of the cliff at the imminent lisk of breaking his neck i- -a "good morning, my young friend" i- -b "he is my little son" i- -c they came to a tree to which a horse was tethered i- -a the way across the forest could scarcely be called a path i- -b occasionally the soil became marshy i- -c a halt for the night i- -d hercules himself was the first to keep watch i- -a "don't fire!" i- -b a herd of gazelles dashed past him like a glowing cloud i- -c a halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty trees i- -a "look here! here are hands, men's hands" i- -b the man was gone, and his horse with him! ii- -a they were seated at the foot of an enormous banyan-tree ii- -b both men, starting to their feet, looked anxiously around them ii- -c dingo disappeared again amongst the bushes ii- -a "you must keep this a secret" ii- -b "harris has left us" ii- -c the march was continued with as much rapidity as was consistent with caution ii- -a it was a scene only too common in central africa ii- -b another brilliant flash brought the camp once again into relief ii- -c one after another, the whole party made their way inside ii- -a cousin benedict's curiosity was awakened ii- -b the naturalist now fairly mounted on a favourite hobby ii- -c "my poor boy, i know everything" ii- -a they set to work to ascertain what progress the water was making ii- -b all fired simultaneously at the nearest boat ii- -c the giant clave their skulls with the butt end of his gun ii- -a the start was made ii- -a if ever the havildar strolled a few yards away, bat took the opportunity of murmuring a few words of encouragement to his poor old father ii- -b the caravan had been attacked on the flank by a dozen or more crocodiles ii- -c the creature that had sprung to my feet was dingo ii- -d more slaves sick, and abandoned to take their chance ii- -a adjoining the commercial quarter was the royal residence ii- -b with a yell and a curse, the american fell dead at his feet ii- -a accompanied by coïmbra, alvez himself was one of the first arrivals ii- -a the potentate beneath whose sway the country trembled for a hundred miles round ii- -b alvez advanced and presented the king with some fresh tobacco ii- -c the king had taken fire internally ii- -a "your life is in my hands!" ii- -b all his energies were restored ii- -a friendless and hopeless he contented himself with the permission to go where he pleased within the limits of the palisade ii- -b "i suppose weldon will not mind coming to fetch you?" ii- -a dr. livingstone ii- -b with none to guide him except a few natives ii- -c "you are dr. livingstone, i presume?" ii- -a the insufferable heat had driven all the residents within the depôt indoors ii- -b before long the old black speck was again flitting just above his head ii- -c for that day at least cousin benedict had lost his chance of being the happiest of entomologists ii- -a the entire crowd joined in ii- -b "here they are, captain! both of them!!" ii- -a hercules could leave the boat without much fear of detection ii- -b it was caused by a troop of a hundred or more elephants ii- -a he stood face to face with his foe ii- -b instantly five or six negroes scrambled down the piles ii- -a upon the smooth wood were two great letters in dingy red ii- -b the dog was griping the man by the throat ii- -c the bullet shattered the rudder-scull into fragments ***** chapter i. the "pilgrim." on the nd of february, , the "pilgrim," a tight little craft of tons burden, lay in lat. ° ', s. and long. ° ', w. she was a schooner, the property of james w. weldon, a wealthy californian ship-owner who had fitted her out at san francisco, expressly for the whale-fisheries in the southern seas. james weldon was accustomed every season to send his whalers both to the arctic regions beyond behring straits, and to the antarctic ocean below tasmania and cape horn; and the "pilgrim," although one of the smallest, was one of the best-going vessels of its class; her sailing-powers were splendid, and her rigging was so adroitly adapted that with a very small crew she might venture without risk within sight of the impenetrable ice-fields of the southern hemisphere: under skilful guidance she could dauntlessly thread her way amongst the drifting ice-bergs that, lessened though they were by perpetual shocks and undermined by warm currents, made their way northwards as far as the parallel of new zealand or the cape of good hope, to a latitude corresponding to which in the northern hemisphere they are never seen, having already melted away in the depths of the atlantic and pacific oceans. for several years the command of the "pilgrim" had been entrusted to captain hull, an experienced seaman, and one of the most dexterous harpooners in weldon's service. the crew consisted of five sailors and an apprentice. this number, of course, was quite insufficient for the process of whale-fishing, which requires a large contingent both for manning the whale-boats and for cutting up the whales after they are captured; but weldon, following the example of other owners, found it more economical to embark at san francisco only just enough men to work the ship to new zealand, where, from the promiscuous gathering of seamen of well-nigh every nationality, and of needy emigrants, the captain had no difficulty in engaging as many whalemen as he wanted for the season. this method of hiring men who could be at once discharged when their services were no longer required had proved altogether to be the most profitable and convenient. the "pilgrim" had now just completed her annual voyage to the antarctic circle. it was not, however, with her proper quota of oil-barrels full to the brim, nor yet with an ample cargo of cut and uncut whalebone, that she was thus far on her way back. the time, indeed, for a good haul was past; the repeated and vigourous attacks upon the cetaceans had made them very scarce; the whale known as "the right whale," the "nord-kapper" of the northern fisheries, the "sulpher-boltone" of the southern, was hardly ever to be seen; and latterly the whalers had had no alternative but to direct their efforts against the finback or jubarte, a gigantic mammal, encounter with which is always attended with considerable danger. so scanty this year had been the supply of whales that captain hull had resolved next year to push his way into far more southern latitudes; even, if necessary, to advance to the regions known as clarie and adélie lands, of which the discovery, though claimed by the american navigator wilkes, belongs by right to the illustrious frenchman dumont d'urville, the commander of the "astrolabe" and the "zélee." the season had been exceptionally unfortunate for the "pilgrim." at the beginning of january, almost in the height of the southern summer, long before the ordinary time for the whalers' return, captain hull had been obliged to abandon his fishing-quarters. his hired contingent, all men of more than doubtful character, had given signs of such insubordination as threatened to end in mutiny; and he had become aware that he must part company with them on the earliest possible opportunity. accordingly, without delay, the bow of the "pilgrim" was directed to the northwest, towards new zealand, which was sighted on the th of january, and on reaching waitemata, the port of auckland, in the hauraki gulf, on the east coast of north island, the whole of the gang was peremptorily discharged. the ship's crew were more than dissatisfied. they were angry. never before had they returned with so meagre a haul. they ought to have had at least two hundred barrels more. the captain himself experienced all the mortification of an ardent sportsman who for the first time in his life brings home a half-empty bag; and there was a general spirit of animosity against the rascals whose rebellion had so entirely marred the success of the expedition. captain hull did everything in his power to repair the disappointment; he made every effort to engage a fresh gang; but it was too late; every available seaman had long since been carried off to the fisheries. finding therefore that all hope of making good the deficiency in his cargo must be resigned, he was on the point of leaving auckland, alone with his crew, when he was met by a request with which he felt himself bound to comply. it had chanced that james weldon, on one of those journeys which were necessitated by the nature of his business, had brought with him his wife, his son jack, a child of five years of age, and a relation of the family who was generally known by the name of cousin benedict. weldon had of course intended that his family should accompany him on his return home to san francisco; but little jack was taken so seriously ill, that his father, whose affairs demanded his immediate return, was obliged to leave him behind at auckland with his wife and cousin benedict. three months had passed away, little jack was convalescent, and mrs. weldon, weary of her long separation from her husband, was anxious to get home as soon as possible. her readiest way of reaching san francisco was to cross to australia, and thence to take a passage in one of the vessels of the "golden age" company, which run between melbourne and the isthmus of panama: on arriving in panama she would have to wait the departure of the next american steamer of the line which maintains a regular communication between the isthmus and california. this route, however, involved many stoppages and changes, such as are always disagreeable and inconvenient for women and children, and mrs. weldon was hesitating whether she should encounter the journey, when she heard that her husband's vessel, the "pilgrim," had arrived at auckland. hastening to captain hull, she begged him to take her with her little boy, cousin benedict, and nan, an old negress who had been her attendant from her childhood, on board the "pilgrim," and to convey them to san francisco direct. "was it not over hazardous," asked the captain, "to venture upon a voyage of between and miles in so small a sailing-vessel?" but mrs. weldon urged her request, and captain hull, confident in the sea-going qualities of his craft, and anticipating at this season nothing but fair weather on either side of the equator, gave his consent. in order to provide as far as possible for the comfort of the lady during a voyage that must occupy from forty to fifty days, the captain placed his own cabin at her entire disposal. everything promised well for a prosperous voyage. the only hindrance that could be foreseen arose from the circumstance that the "pilgrim" would have to put in at valparaiso for the purpose of unlading; but that business once accomplished, she would continue her way along the american coast with the assistance of the land breezes, which ordinarily make the proximity of those shores such agreeable quarters for sailing. mrs. weldon herself had accompanied her husband in so many voyages, that she was quite inured to all the makeshifts of a seafaring life, and was conscious of no misgiving in embarking upon a vessel of such small tonnage. she was a brave, high-spirited woman of about thirty years of age, in the enjoyment of excellent health, and for her the sea had no terrors. aware that captain hull was an experienced man, in whom her husband had the utmost confidence, and knowing that his ship was a substantial craft, registered as one of the best of the american whalers, so far from entertaining any mistrust as to her safety, she only rejoiced in the opportuneness of the chance which seemed to offer her a direct and unbroken route to her destination. cousin benedict, as a matter of course, was to accompany her. he was about fifty; but in spite of his mature age it would have been considered the height of imprudence to allow him to travel anywhere alone. spare, lanky, with a bony frame, with an enormous cranium, and a profusion of hair, he was one of those amiable, inoffensive _savants_ who, having once taken to gold spectacles, appear to have arrived at a settled standard of age, and, however long they live afterwards, seem never to be older than they have ever been. claiming a sort of kindredship with all the world, he was universally known, far beyond the pale of his own connexions, by the name of "cousin benedict." in the ordinary concerns of life nothing would ever have rendered him capable of shifting for himself; of his meals he would never think until they were placed before him; he had the appearance of being utterly insensible to heat or cold; he vegetated rather than lived, and might not inaptly be compared to a tree which, though healthy enough at its core, produces scant foliage and no fruit. his long arms and legs were in the way of himself and everybody else; yet no one could possibly treat him with unkindness. as m. prudhomme would say, "if only he had been endowed with capability," he would have rendered a service to any one in the world; but helplessness was his dominant characteristic; helplessness was ingrained into his very nature; yet this very helplessness made him an object of kind consideration rather than of contempt, and mrs. weldon looked upon him as a kind of elder brother to her little jack. it must not be supposed, however, that cousin benedict was either idle or unoccupied. on the contrary, his whole time was devoted to one absorbing passion for natural history. not that he had any large claim to be regarded properly as a natural historian; he had made no excursions over the whole four districts of zoology, botany, mineralogy, and geology, into which the realms of natural history are commonly divided; indeed, he had no pretensions at all to be either a botanist, a mineralogist, or a geologist; his studies only sufficed to make him a zoologist, and that in a very limited sense. no cuvier was he; he did not aspire to decompose animal life by analysis, and to recompose it by synthesis; his enthusiasm had not made him at all deeply versed in vertebrata, mollusca, or radiata; in fact, the vertebrata--animals, birds, reptiles, fishes--had had no place in his researches; the mollusca--from the cephalopoda to the bryozia--had had no attractions for him; nor had he consumed the midnight oil in investigating the radiata, the echmodermata, acalephæ, polypi, entozoa, or infusoria. no; cousin benedict's interest began and ended with the articulata; and it must be owned at once that his studies were very far from embracing all the range of the six classes into which "articulata" are subdivided; viz, the insecta, the mynapoda, the arachnida, the crustacea, the cinhopoda, and the anelides; and he was utterly unable in scientific language to distinguish a worm from a leech, an earwig from a sea-acorn, a spider from a scorpion, a shrimp from a frog-hopper, or a galley-worm from a centipede. to confess the plain truth, cousin benedict was an amateur entomologist, and nothing more. entomology, it may be asserted, is a wide science; it embraces the whole division of the articulata; but our friend was an entomologist only in the limited sense of the popular acceptation of the word; that is to say, he was an observer and collector of insects, meaning by "insects" those articulata which have bodies consisting of a number of concentric movable rings, forming three distinct segments, each with a pair of legs, and which are scientifically designated as hexapods. [illustration: cousin benedict] to this extent was cousin benedict an entomologist; and when it is remembered that the class of insecta of which he had grown up to be the enthusiastic student comprises no less than ten[ ] orders, and that of these ten the coleoptera and diptera alone include , and , species respectively, it must be confessed that he had an ample field for his most persevering exertions. [footnote : these ten orders are ( ) the orthoptera, _e.g._ grasshoppers and crickets; ( ) the neuroptera, _e.g._ dragon-flies; ( ) the hymenoptera, _e.g._ bees, wasps, and ants; ( ) the lepidoptera, _e.g._ butterflies and moths; ( ) the hemiptera, _e.g._ cicadas and fleas; ( ) the coleoptera, _e.g._ cockchafers and glow-worms; ( ) the diptera, _e.g._ gnats and flies; ( ) the rhipiptera, _e.g._ the stylops; ( ) the parasites, _e.g._ the acarus; and ( ) the thysanura, _e.g._ the lepisma and podura.] every available hour did he spend in the pursuit of his favourite science: hexapods ruled his thoughts by day and his dreams by night. the number of pins that he carried thick on the collar and sleeves of his coat, down the front of his waistcoat, and on the crown of his hat, defied computation; they were kept in readiness for the capture of specimens that might come in his way, and on his return from a ramble in the country he might be seen literally encased with a covering of insects, transfixed adroitly by scientific rule. this ruling passion of his had been the inducement that had urged him to accompany mr. and mrs. weldon to new zealand. it had appeared to him that it was likely to be a promising district, and now having been successful in adding some rare specimens to his collection, he was anxious to get back again to san francisco, and to assign them their proper places in his extensive cabinet. besides, it never occurred to mrs. weldon to start without him. to leave him to shift for himself would be sheer cruelty. as a matter of course whenever mrs. weldon went on board the "pilgrim," cousin benedict would go too. not that in any emergency assistance of any kind could be expected from him; on the contrary, in the case of difficulty he would be an additional burden; but there was every reason to expect a fair passage and no cause of misgiving of any kind, so the propriety of leaving the amiable entomologist behind was never suggested. anxious that she should be no impediment in the way of the due departure of the "pilgrim" from waitemata, mrs. weldon made her preparations with the utmost haste, discharged the servants which she had temporarily engaged at auckland, and accompanied by little jack and the old negress, and followed mechanically by cousin benedict, embarked on the nd of january on board the schooner. the amateur, however, kept his eye very scrupulously upon his own special box. amongst his collection of insects were some very remarkable examples of new staphylins, a species of carnivorous coleoptera with eyes placed above their head; it was a kind supposed to be peculiar to new caledonia. another rarity which had been brought under his notice was a venomous spider, known among the maoris as a "katipo;" its bite was asserted to be very often fatal. as a spider, however, belongs to the order of the arachnida, and is not properly an "insect," benedict declined to take any interest in it. enough for him that he had secured a novelty in his own section of research; the "staphylin neo-zelandus" was not only the gem of his collection, but its pecuniary value baffled ordinary estimate; he insured his box at a fabulous sum, deeming it to be worth far more than all the cargo of oil and whalebone in the "pilgrim's" hold. captain hull advanced to meet mrs. weldon and her party as they stepped on deck. "it must be understood, mrs. weldon," he said, courteously raising his hat, "that you take this passage entirely on your own responsibility." "certainly, captain hull," she answered; "but why do you ask?" "simply because i have received no orders from mr. weldon," replied the captain. [illustration: captain hull advanced to meet mrs. weldon and her party.] "but my wish exonerates you," said mrs. weldon. "besides," added captain hull, "i am unable to provide you with the accommodation and the comfort that you would have upon a passenger steamer." "you know well enough, captain," remonstrated the lady "that my husband would not hesitate for a moment to trust his wife and child on board the 'pilgrim.'" "trust, madam! no! no more than i should myself. i repeat that the 'pilgrim' cannot afford you the comfort to which you are accustomed." mrs. weldon smiled. "oh, i am not one of your grumbling travellers. i shall have no complaints to make either of small cramped cabins, or of rough and meagre food." she took her son by the hand, and passing on, begged that they might start forthwith. orders accordingly were given; sails were trimmed; and after taking the shortest course across the gulf, the "pilgrim" turned her head towards america. three days later strong easterly breezes compelled the schooner to tack to larboard in order to get to windward. the consequence was that by the nd of february the captain found himself in such a latitude that he might almost be suspected of intending to round cape horn rather than of having a design to coast the western shores of the new continent. still, the sea did not become rough. there was a slight delay, but, on the whole, navigation was perfectly easy. chapter ii. the apprentice. there was no poop upon the "pilgrim's" deck, so that mrs. weldon had no alternative than to acquiesce in the captain's proposal that she should occupy his own modest cabin. accordingly, here she was installed with jack and old nan; and here she took all her meals, in company with the captain and cousin benedict. for cousin benedict tolerably comfortable sleeping accommodation had been contrived close at hand, while captain hull himself retired to the crew's quarter, occupying the cabin which properly belonged to the chief mate, but as already indicated, the services of a second officer were quite dispensed with. all the crew were civil and attentive to the wife of their employer, a master to whom they were faithfully attached. they were all natives of the coast of california, brave and experienced seamen, and united by tastes and habits in a common bond of sympathy. few as they were in number, their work was never shirked, not simply from the sense of duty, but because they were directly interested in the profits of their undertaking; the success of their labours always told to their own advantage. the present expedition was the fourth that they had taken together; and, as it turned out to be the first in which they had failed to meet with success, it may be imagined that they were full of resentment against the mutinous whalemen who had been the cause of so serious a diminution of their ordinary gains. [illustration: negoro.] the only one on board who was not an american was a man who had been temporarily engaged as cook. his name was negoro; he was a portuguese by birth, but spoke english with perfect fluency. the previous cook had deserted the ship at auckland, and when negoro, who was out of employment, applied for the place, captain hull, only too glad to avoid detention, engaged him at once without inquiry into his antecedents. there was not the slightest fault to be found with the way in which the cook performed his duties, but there was something in his manner, or perhaps, rather in the expression of his countenance, which excited the captain's misgivings, and made him regret that he had not taken more pains to investigate the character of one with whom he was now brought into such close contact. negoro looked about forty years of age. although he had the appearance of being slightly built, he was muscular; he was of middle height, and seemed to have a robust constitution; his hair was dark, his complexion somewhat swarthy. his manner was taciturn, and although, from occasional remarks that he dropped, it was evident that he had received some education, he was very reserved on the subjects both of his family and of his past life. no one knew where he had come from, and he admitted no one to his confidence as to where he was going, except that he made no secret of his intention to land at valparaiso. his freedom from sea-sickness demonstrated that this could hardly be his first voyage, but on the other hand his complete ignorance of seamen's phraseology made it certain that he had never been accustomed to his present occupation. he kept himself aloof as much as possible from the rest of the crew, during the day rarely leaving the great cast-iron stove, which was out of proportion to the measurement of the cramped little kitchen; and at night, as soon as the fire was extinguished, took the earliest opportunity of retiring to his berth and going to sleep. it has been already stated that the crew of the "pilgrim" consisted of five seamen and an apprentice. this apprentice was dick sands. dick was fifteen years old; he was a foundling, his unknown parents having abandoned him at his birth, and he had been brought up in a public charitable institution. he had been called dick, after the benevolent passer-by who had discovered him when he was but an infant a few hours old, and he had received the surname of sands as a memorial of the spot where he had been exposed, sandy hook, a point at the mouth of the hudson, where it forms an entrance to the harbour of new york. as dick was so young it was most likely he would yet grow a little taller, but it did not seem probable that he would ever exceed middle height, he looked too stoutly and strongly built to grow much. his complexion was dark, but his beaming blue eyes attested, with scarcely room for doubt, his anglo-saxon origin, and his countenance betokened energy and intelligence. the profession that he had adopted seemed to have equipped him betimes for fighting the battle of life. misquoted often as virgil's are the words "audaces fortuna juvat!" but the true reading is "audentes fortuna juvat!" and, slight as the difference may seem, it is very significant. it is upon the confident rather than the rash, the daring rather than the bold, that fortune sheds her smiles; the bold man often acts without thinking, whilst the daring always thinks before he acts. and dick sands was truly courageous; he was one of the daring. at fifteen years old, an age at which few boys have laid aside the frivolities of childhood, he had acquired the stability of a man, and the most casual observer could scarcely fail to be attracted by his bright, yet thoughtful countenance. at an early period of his life he had realized all the difficulties of his position, and had made a resolution, from which nothing tempted him to flinch, that he would carve out for himself an honourable and independent career. lithe and agile in his movements, he was an adept in every kind of athletic exercise; and so marvellous was his success in everything he undertook, that he might almost be supposed to be one of those gifted mortals who have two right hands and two left feet. until he was four years old the little orphan had found a home in one of those institutions in america where forsaken children are sure of an asylum, and he was subsequently sent to an industrial school supported by charitable aid, where he learnt reading, writing, and arithmetic. from the days of infancy he had never deviated from the expression of his wish to be a sailor, and accordingly, as soon as he was eight, he was placed as cabin-boy on board one of the ships that navigate the southern seas. the officers all took a peculiar interest in him, and he received, in consequence, a thoroughly good grounding in the duties and discipline of a seaman's life. there was no room to doubt that he must ultimately rise to eminence in his profession, for when a child from the very first has been trained in the knowledge that he must gain his bread by the sweat of his brow, it is comparatively rare that he lacks the will to do so. whilst he was still acting as cabin-boy on one of those trading-vessels, dick attracted the notice of captain hull, who took a fancy to the lad and introduced him to his employer. mr. weldon at once took a lively interest in dick's welfare, and had his education continued in san francisco, taking care that he was instructed in the doctrines of the roman catholic church, to which his own family belonged. throughout his studies dick sands' favourite subjects were always those which had a reference to his future profession; he mastered the details of the geography of the world; he applied himself diligently to such branches of mathematics as were necessary for the science of navigation; whilst for recreation in his hours of leisure, he would greedily devour every book of adventure in travel that came in his way. nor did he omit duly to combine the practical with the theoretical; and when he was bound apprentice on board the "pilgrim," a vessel not only belonging to his benefactor, but under the command of his kind friend captain hull, he congratulated himself most heartily, and felt that the experience he should gain in the southern whale-fisheries could hardly fail to be of service to him in after-life. a first-rate sailor ought to be a first-rate fisherman too. it was a matter of the greatest pleasure to dick sands when he heard to his surprise that mrs. weldon was about to become a passenger on board the "pilgrim." his devotion to the family of his benefactor was large and genuine. for several years mrs. weldon had acted towards him little short of a mother's part, and for jack, although he never forgot the difference in their position, he entertained well-nigh a brother's affection. his friends had the satisfaction of being assured that they had sown the seeds of kindness on a generous soil, for there was no room to doubt that the heart of the orphan boy was overflowing with sincere gratitude. should the occasion arise, ought he not, he asked, to be ready to sacrifice everything in behalf of those to whom he was indebted not only for his start in life, but for the knowledge of all that was right and holy? confiding in the good principles of her protégé, mrs. weldon had no hesitation in entrusting her little son to his especial charge. during the frequent periods of leisure, when the sea was fair, and the sails required no shifting, the apprentice was never weary of amusing jack by making him familiar with the practice of a sailor's craft; he made him scramble up the shrouds, perch upon the yards, and slip down the back-stays; and the mother had no alarm; her assurance of dick sands' ability and watchfulness to protect her boy was so complete that she could only rejoice in an occupation for him that seemed more than anything to restore the colour he had lost in his recent illness. time passed on without incident; and had it not been for the constant prevalence of an adverse wind, neither passengers nor crew could have found the least cause of complaint. the pertinacity, however, with which the wind kept to the east could not do otherwise than make captain hull somewhat concerned; it absolutely prevented him from getting his ship into her proper course, and he could not altogether suppress his misgiving that the calms near the tropic of capricorn, and the equatorial current driving him on westwards, would entail a delay that might be serious. [illustration: dick and little jack.] it was principally on mrs. weldon's account that the captain began to feel uneasiness, and he made up his mind that if he could hail a vessel proceeding to america he should advise his passengers to embark on her; unfortunately, however, he felt that they were still in a latitude far too much to the south to make it likely that they should sight a steamer going to panama; and at that date, communication between australia and the new world was much less frequent than it has since become. still, nothing occurred to interrupt the general monotony of the voyage until the nd of february, the date at which our narrative commences. it was about nine o'clock in the morning of that day that dick and little jack had perched themselves together on the top-mast-yards. the weather was very clear, and they could see the horizon right round except the section behind them, hidden by the brigantine-sail on the main-mast. below them, the bowsprit seemed to lie along the water with its stay-sails attached like three unequal wings; from the lads' feet to the deck was the smooth surface of the fore-mast; and above their heads nothing but the small top-sail and the top-mast. the schooner was running on the larboard tack as close to the wind as possible. dick sand was pointing out to jack how well the ship was ballasted, and was trying to explain how it was impossible for her to capsize, however much she heeled to starboard, when suddenly the little fellow cried out,-- "i can see something in the water!" "where? what?" exclaimed dick, clambering to his feet upon the yard. "there!" said the child, directing attention to the portion of the sea-surface that was visible between the stay-sails. dick fixed his gaze intently for a moment, and then shouted out lustily,-- "look out in front, to starboard! there is something afloat. to windward, look out!" chapter iii. a rescue. at the sound of dick's voice all the crew, in a moment, were upon the alert. the men who were not on watch rushed to the deck, and captain hull hurried from his cabin to the bows. mrs. weldon, nan, and even cousin benedict leaned over the starboard taffrails, eager to get a glimpse of what had thus suddenly attracted the attention of the young apprentice. with his usual indifference, negoro did not leave his cabin, and was the only person on board who did not share the general excitement. speculations were soon rife as to what could be the nature of the floating object which could be discerned about three miles ahead. suggestions of various character were freely made. one of the sailors declared that it looked to him only like an abandoned raft, but mrs. weldon observed quickly that if it were a raft it might be carrying some unfortunate shipwrecked men who must be rescued if possible. cousin benedict asserted that it was nothing more nor less than a huge sea-monster; but the captain soon arrived at the conviction that it was the hull of a vessel that had heeled over on to its side, an opinion with which dick thoroughly coincided, and went so far as to say that he believed he could make out the copper keel glittering in the sun. "luff, bolton, luff!" shouted captain hull to the helmsman; "we will at any rate lose no time in getting alongside." "ay, ay, sir," answered the helmsman, and the "pilgrim" in an instant was steered according to orders. in spite, however, of the convictions of the captain and dick, cousin benedict would not be moved from his opinion that the object of their curiosity was some huge cetacean. "it is certainly dead, then," remarked mrs. weldon; "it is perfectly motionless." "oh, that's because it is asleep," said benedict, who, although he would have willingly given up all the whales in the ocean for one rare specimen of an insect, yet could not surrender his own belief. "easy, bolton, easy!" shouted the captain when they were getting nearer the floating mass; "don't let us be running foul of the thing; no good could come from knocking a hole in our side; keep out from it a good cable's length." "ay, ay, sir," replied the helmsman, in his usual cheery way; and by an easy turn of the helm the "pilgrim's" course was slightly modified so as to avoid all fear of collision. the excitement of the sailors by this time had become more intense. ever since the distance had been less than a mile all doubt had vanished, and it was certain that what was attracting their attention was the hull of a capsized ship. they knew well enough the established rule that a third of all salvage is the right of the finders, and they were filled with the hope that the hull they were nearing might contain an undamaged cargo, and be "a good haul," to compensate them for their ill-success in the last season. a quarter of an hour later and the "pilgrim" was within half a mile of the deserted vessel, facing her starboard side. water-logged to her bulwarks, she had heeled over so completely that it would have been next to impossible to stand upon her deck. of her masts nothing was to be seen; a few ends of cordage were all that remained of her shrouds, and the try-sail chains were hanging all broken. on the starboard flank was an enormous hole. "something or other has run foul of her," said dick. "no doubt of that," replied the captain; "the only wonder is that she did not sink immediately." "oh, how i hope the poor crew have been saved!" exclaimed mrs weldon. "most probably," replied the captain, "they would all have taken to the boats. it is as likely as not that the ship which did the mischief would continue its course quite unconcerned." "surely, you cannot mean," cried mrs weldon, "that any one could be capable of such inhumanity?" "only too probable," answered captain hull, "unfortunately, such instances are very far from rare." he scanned the drifting ship carefully and continued,-- "no, i cannot see any sign of boats here, i should guess that the crew have made an attempt to get to land, at such a distance as this, however, from america or from the islands of the pacific i should be afraid that it must be hopeless." "is it not possible," asked mrs weldon, "that some poor creature may still survive on board, who can tell what has happened?" "hardly likely, madam; otherwise there would have been some sort of a signal in sight. but it is a matter about which we will make sure." the captain waved his hand a little in the direction in which he wished to go, and said quietly,-- "luff, bolton, luff a bit!" the "pilgrim" by this time was not much more than three cables' lengths from the ship, there was still no token of her being otherwise than utterly deserted, when dick sands suddenly exclaimed,-- "hark! if i am not much mistaken, that is a dog barking!" every one listened attentively; it was no fancy on dick's part, sure enough a stifled barking could be heard, as if some unfortunate dog had been imprisoned beneath the hatchways; but as the deck was not yet visible, it was impossible at present to determine the precise truth. mrs weldon pleaded,-- "if it is only a dog, captain, let it be saved." "oh, yes, yes, mamma, the dog must be saved!" cried little jack; "i will go and get a bit of sugar ready for it." [illustration: negoro had approached without being noticed by any one] "a bit of sugar, my child, will not be much for a starved dog." "then it shall have my soup, and i will do without," said the boy, and he kept shouting, "good dog! good dog!" until he persuaded himself that he heard the animal responding to his call. the vessels were now scarcely three hundred feet apart; the barking was more and more distinct, and presently a great dog was seen clinging to the starboard netting. it barked more desperately than ever. "howick," said captain hull, calling to the boatswain, "heave to, and lower the small boat." the sails were soon trimmed so as to bring the schooner to a standstill within half a cable's length of the disabled craft, the boat was lowered, and the captain and dick, with a couple of sailors, went on board. the dog kept up a continual yelping; it made the most vigourous efforts to retain its hold upon the netting, but perpetually slipped backwards and fell off again upon the inclining deck. it was soon manifest, however, that all the noise the creature was making was not directed exclusively towards those who were coming to its rescue, and mrs. weldon could not divest herself of the impression that there must be some survivors still on board. all at once the animal changed its gestures. instead of the crouching attitude and supplicating whine with which it seemed to be imploring the compassion of those who were nearing it, it suddenly appeared to become bursting with violence and furious with rage. "what ails the brute?" exclaimed captain hull. but already the boat was on the farther side of the wrecked ship, and the captain was not in a position to see that negoro the cook had just come on to the schooner's deck, or that it was obvious that it was against him that the dog had broken out in such obstreperous fury. negoro had approached without being noticed by any one; he made his way to the forecastle, whence, without a word or look of surprise, he gazed a moment at the dog, knitted his brow, and, silent and unobserved as he had come, retired to his kitchen. as the boat had rounded the stern of the drifting hull, it had been observed that the one word "waldeck" was painted on the aft-board, but that there was no intimation of the port to which the ship belonged. to captain hull's experienced eye, however, certain details of construction gave a decided confirmation to the probability suggested by her name that she was of american build. of what had once been a fine brig of tons burden this hopeless wreck was now all that remained. the large hole near the bows indicated the place where the disastrous shock had occurred, but as, in the heeling over, this aperture had been carried some five or six feet above the water, the vessel had escaped the immediate foundering which must otherwise have ensued; but still it wanted only the rising of a heavy swell to submerge the ship at any time in a few minutes. it did not take many more strokes to bring the boat close to the larboard bulwark, which was half out of the water, and captain hull obtained a view of the whole length of the deck. it was clear from end to end. both masts had been snapped off within two feet of their sockets, and had been swept away with shrouds, stays, and rigging. not a single spar was to be seen floating anywhere within sight of the wreck, a circumstance from which it was to be inferred that several days at least had elapsed since the catastrophe. meantime the dog, sliding down from the taffrail, got to the centre hatchway, which was open. here it continued to bark, alternately directing its eyes above deck and below. "look at that dog!" said dick; "i begin to think there must be somebody on board." "if so," answered the captain, "he must have died of hunger; the water of course has flooded the store-room." "no," said dick; "that dog wouldn't look like that if there were nobody there alive." [illustration: the dog began to swim slowly and with manifest weakness towards the boat.] taking the boat as close as was prudent to the wreck, the captain and dick called and whistled repeatedly to the dog, which after a while let itself slip into the sea, and began to swim slowly and with manifest weakness towards the boat. as soon as it was lifted in, the animal, instead of devouring the piece of bread that was offered him, made its way to a bucket containing a few drops of fresh water, and began eagerly to lap them up. "the poor wretch is dying of thirst!" said dick. it soon appeared that the dog was very far from being engrossed with its own interests. the boat was being pushed back a few yards in order to allow the captain to ascertain the most convenient place to get alongside the "waldeck," when the creature seized dick by the jacket, and set up a howl that was almost human in its piteousness. it was evidently in a state of alarm that the boat was not going to return to the wreck. the dog's meaning could not be misunderstood. the boat was accordingly brought against the larboard side of the vessel, and while the two sailors lashed her securely to the "waldeck's" cat-head, captain hull and dick, with the dog persistently accompanying them, clambered, after some difficulty, to the open hatchway between the stumps of the masts, and made their way into the hold. it was half full of water, but perfectly destitute of cargo, its sole contents being the ballast sand which had slipped to larboard, and now served to keep the vessel on her side. one glance was sufficient to convince the captain that there was no salvage to be effected. "there is nothing here; nobody here," he said. "so i see," said the apprentice, who had made his way to the extreme fore-part of the hold. "then we have only to go up again," remarked the captain. they ascended the ladder, but no sooner did they reappear upon the deck than the dog, barking irrepressibly, began trying manifestly to drag them towards the stern. yielding to what might be called the importunities of the dog, they followed him to the poop, and there, by the dim glimmer admitted by the sky-light, captain hull made out the forms of five bodies, motionless and apparently lifeless, stretched upon the floor. one after another, dick hastily examined them all, and emphatically declared it to be his opinion, that not one or them had actually ceased to breathe; whereupon the captain did not lose a minute in summoning the two sailors to his aid, and although it was far from an easy task, he succeeded in getting the five unconscious men, who were all negroes, conveyed safely to the boat. the dog followed, apparently satisfied. with all possible speed the boat made its way back again to the "pilgrim," a girt-line was lowered from the mainyard, and the unfortunate men were raised to the deck. "poor things!" said mrs. weldon, as she looked compassionately on the motionless forms. "but they are not dead," cried dick eagerly; "they are not dead; we shall save them all yet!" "what's the matter with them?" asked cousin benedict, looking at them with utter bewilderment. "we shall hear all about them soon, i dare say," said the captain, smiling; "but first we will give them a few drops of rum in some water." cousin benedict smiled in return. "negoro!" shouted the captain. at the sound of the name, the dog, who had hitherto been quite passive, growled fiercely, showed his teeth, and exhibited every sign of rage. the cook did not answer. "negoro!" again the captain shouted, and the dog became yet more angry. at this second summons negoro slowly left his kitchen, but no sooner had he shown his face upon the deck than the animal made a rush at him, and would unquestionably have seized him by the throat if the man had not knocked him back with a poker which he had brought with him in his hand. the infuriated beast was secured by the sailors, and prevented from inflicting any serious injury. "do you know this dog?" asked the captain. "know him? not i! i have never set eyes on the brute in my life." "strange!" muttered dick to himself; "there is some mystery here. we shall see." chapter iv. the survivors of the "waldeck." in spite of the watchfulness of the french and english cruisers, there is no doubt that the slave-trade is still extensively carried on in all parts of equatorial africa, and that year after year vessels loaded with slaves leave the coasts of angola and mozambique to transport their living freight to many quarters even of the civilized world. of this captain hull was well aware, and although he was now in a latitude which was comparatively little traversed by such slavers, he could not help almost involuntarily conjecturing that the negroes they had just found must be part of a slave-cargo which was on its way to some colony of the pacific; if this were so, he would at least have the satisfaction of announcing to them that they had regained their freedom from the moment that they came on board the "pilgrim." whilst these thoughts were passing through his mind, mrs. weldon, assisted by nan and the ever active dick sands, was doing everything in her power to restore consciousness to the poor sufferers. the judicious administration of fresh water and a limited quantity of food soon had the effect of making them revive; and when they were restored to their senses it was found that the eldest of them, a man of about sixty years of age, who immediately regained his powers of speech, was able to reply in good english to all the questions that were put to him. in answer to captain hull's inquiry whether they were not slaves, the old negro proudly stated that he and his companions were all free american citizens, belonging to the state of pennsylvania. [illustration: mrs. weldon, assisted by nan and the ever active dick sands, was doing everything in her power to restore consciousness to the poor sufferers.] "then, let me assure you, my friend," said the captain, "you have by no means compromised your liberty in having been brought on board the american schooner 'pilgrim.'" not merely, as it seemed, on account of his age and experience, but rather because of a certain superiority and greater energy of character, this old man was tacitly recognized as the spokesman of his party; he freely communicated all the information that captain hull required to hear, and by degrees he related all the details of his adventures. he said that his name was tom, and that when he was only six years of age he had been sold as a slave, and brought from his home in africa to the united states; but by the act of emancipation he had long since recovered his freedom. his companions, who were all much younger than himself, their ages ranging from twenty-five to thirty, were all free-born, their parents having been emancipated before their birth, so that no white man had ever exercised upon them the rights of ownership. one of them was his own son; his name was bat (an abbreviation of bartholomew); and there were three others, named austin, actæon, and hercules. all four of them were specimens of that stalwart race that commands so high a price in the african market, and in spite of the emaciation induced by their recent sufferings, their muscular, well-knit frames betokened a strong and healthy constitution. their manner bore the impress of that solid education which is given in the north american schools, and their speech had lost all trace of the "nigger-tongue," a dialect without articles or inflexions, which since the anti-slavery war has almost died out in the united states. three years ago, old tom stated, the five men had been engaged by an englishman who had large property in south australia, to work upon his estates near melbourne. here they had realized a considerable profit, and upon the completion of their engagement they determined to return with their savings to america. accordingly, on the th of january, after paying their passage in the ordinary way, they embarked at melbourne on board the "waldeck." everything went on well for seventeen days, until, on the night of the nd, which was very dark, they were run into by a great steamer. they were all asleep in their berths, but, roused by the shock of the collision, which was extremely severe, they hurriedly made their way on to the deck. the scene was terrible; both masts were gone, and the brig, although the water had not absolutely flooded her hold so as to make her sink, had completely heeled over on her side. captain and crew had entirely disappeared, some probably having been dashed into the sea, others perhaps having saved themselves by clinging to the rigging of the ship which had fouled them, and which could be distinguished through the darkness rapidly receding in the distance. for a while they were paralyzed, but they soon awoke to the conviction that they were left alone upon a half-capsized and disabled hull, twelve hundred miles from the nearest land. mrs. weldon was loud in her expression of indignation that any captain should have the barbarity to abandon an unfortunate vessel with which his own carelessness had brought him into collision. it would be bad enough, she said for a driver on a public road, when it might be presumed that help would be forthcoming, to pass on unconcerned after causing an accident to another vehicle; but how much more shameful to desert the injured on the open sea, where the victims of his incompetence could have no chance of obtaining succour! captain hull could only repeat what he had said before, that incredibly atrocious as it might seem, such inhumanity was far from rare. on resuming his story, tom said that he and his companions soon found that they had no means left for getting away from the capsized brig; both the boats had been crushed in the collision, so that they had no alternative except to await the appearance of a passing vessel, whilst the wreck was drifting hopelessly along under the action of the currents. this accounted for the fact of their being found so far south of their proper course. for the next ten days the negroes had subsisted upon a few scraps of food that they found in the stern cabin; but as the store room was entirely under water, they were quite unable to obtain a drop of anything to drink, and the freshwater tanks that had been lashed to the deck had been stove in at the time of the catastrophe. tortured with thirst, the poor men had suffered agonies, and having on the previous night entirely lost consciousness, they must soon have died if the "pilgrim's" timely arrival had not effected their rescue. all the outlines of tom's narrative were fully confirmed by the other negroes; captain hull could see no reason to doubt it; indeed, the facts seemed to speak for themselves. one other survivor of the wreck, if he had been gifted with the power of speech, would doubtless have corroborated the testimony. this was the dog who seemed to have such an unaccountable dislike to negoro. dingo, as the dog was named, belonged to the fine breed of mastiffs peculiar to new holland. it was not, however, from australia, but from the coast of west africa, near the mouth of the congo, that the animal had come. he had been picked up there, two years previously, by the captain of the "waldeck," who had found him wandering about and more than half starved. the initials s. v. engraved upon his collar were the only tokens that the dog had a past history of his own. after he had been taken on board the "waldeck," he remained quite unsociable, apparently ever pining for some lost master, whom he had failed to find in the desert land where he had been met with. larger than the dogs of the pyrenees, dingo was a magnificent example of his kind. standing on his hind legs, with his head thrown back, he was as tall as a man. his agility and strength would have made him a sure match for a panther, and he would not have flinched at facing a bear. his fine shaggy coat was a dark tawny colour, shading off somewhat lighter round the muzzle, and his long bushy tail was as strong as a lion's. if he were made angry, no doubt he might become a most formidable foe, so that it was no wonder that negoro did not feel altogether gratified at his reception. but dingo, though unsociable, was not savage. old tom said that, on board the "waldeck," he had noticed that the animal seemed to have a particular dislike to negroes; not that he actually attempted to do them any harm, only he uniformly avoided them, giving an impression that he must have been systematically ill-treated by the natives of that part of africa in which he had been found. during the ten days that had elapsed since the collision, dingo had kept resolutely aloof from tom and his companions; they could not tell what he had been feeding on; they only knew that, like themselves, he had suffered an excruciating thirst. such had been the experience of the survivors of the "waldeck." their situation had been most critical. even if they survived the pangs of want of food, the slightest gale or the most inconsiderable swell might at any moment have sunk the water-logged ship, and had it not been that calms and contrary winds had contributed to the opportune arrival of the "pilgrim," an inevitable fate was before them; their corpses must lie at the bottom of the sea. captain hull's act of humanity, however, would not be complete unless he succeeded in restoring the shipwrecked men to their homes. this he promised to do. after completing the unlading at valparaiso, the "pilgrim" would make direct for california, where, as mrs. weldon assured them, they would be most hospitably received by her husband, and provided with the necessary means for returning to pennsylvania. the five men, who, as the consequence of the shipwreck, had lost all the savings of their last three years of toil, were profoundly grateful to their kind-hearted benefactors; nor, poor negroes as they were, did they utterly resign the hope that at some future time they might have it in their power to repay the debt which they owed their deliverers. [illustration: the good natured negroes were ever ready to lend a helping hand.] chapter v. dingo's sagacity. meantime the "pilgrim" pursued her course, keeping as much as possible to the east, and before evening closed in the hull of the "waldeck" was out of sight. captain hull still continued to feel uneasy about the constant prevalence of calms; not that for himself he cared much about the delay of a week or two in a voyage from new zealand to valparaiso, but he was disappointed at the prolonged inconvenience it caused to his lady passenger. mrs. weldon, however, submitted to the detention very philosophically, and did not utter a word of complaint. the captain's next care was to improvise sleeping accommodation for tom and his four associates. no room for them could possibly be found in the crew's quarters, so that their berths had to be arranged under the forecastle; and as long as the weather continued fine, there was no reason why the negroes, accustomed as they were to a somewhat rough life, should not find themselves sufficiently comfortable. after this incident of the discovery of the wreck, life on board the "pilgrim" relapsed into its ordinary routine. with the wind invariably in the same direction, the sails required very little shifting; but whenever it happened, as occasionally it would, that there was any tacking to be done, the good-natured negroes were ever ready to lend a helping hand; and the rigging would creak again under the weight of hercules, a great strapping fellow, six feet high, who seemed almost to require ropes of extra strength made for his special use. hercules became at once a great favourite with little jack; and when the giant lifted him like a doll in his stalwart arms, the child fairly shrieked with delight. "higher! higher! very high!" jack would say sometimes. "there you are, then, master jack," hercules would reply as he raised him aloft. "am i heavy?" asked the child, "as heavy as a feather." "then lift me higher still," cried jack; "as high as ever you can reach." and hercules, with the child's two feet supported on his huge palm, would walk about the deck with him like an acrobat, jack all the time endeavouring, with vain efforts, to make him "feel his weight." besides dick sands and hercules, jack admitted a third friend to his companionship. this was dingo. the dog, unsociable as he had been on board the "waldeck," seemed to have found society more congenial to his tastes, and being one of those animals that are fond of children, he allowed jack to do with him almost anything he pleased. the child, however, never thought of hurting the dog in any way, and it was doubtful which of the two had the greater enjoyment of their mutual sport. jack found a live dog infinitely more entertaining than his old toy upon its four wheels, and his great delight was to mount upon dingo's back, when the animal would gallop off with him like a race-horse with his jockey. it must be owned that one result of this intimacy was a serious diminution of the supply of sugar in the store-room. dingo was the delight of all the crew excepting negoro, who cautiously avoided coming in contact with an animal who showed such unmistakable symptoms of hostility. the new companions that jack had thus found did not in the least make him forget his old friend dick sands, who devoted all his leisure time to him as assiduously as ever. mrs. weldon regarded their intimacy with the greatest satisfaction, and one day made a remark to that effect in the presence of captain hull. [illustration: "there you are, then, master jack!"] "you are right, madam," said the captain cordially; "dick is a capital fellow, and will be sure to be a first-rate sailor. he has an instinct which is little short of a genius; it supplies all deficiencies of theory. considering how short an experience and how little instruction he has had, it is quite wonderful how much he knows about a ship." "certainly for his age," assented mrs. weldon, "he is singularly advanced. i can safely say that i have never had a fault to find with him. i believe that it is my husband's intention, after this voyage, to let him have systematic training in navigation, so that he may be able ultimately to become a captain." "i have no misgivings, madam," replied the captain; "there is every reason to expect that he will be an honour to the service." "poor orphan!" said the lady; "he has been trained in a hard school." "its lessons have not been lost upon him," rejoined captain hull; "they have taught him the prime lesson that he has his own way to make in the world." the eyes of the two speakers turned as it were unwittingly in the direction where dick sands happened to be standing. he was at the helm. "look at him now!" said the captain; "see how steadily he keeps his eye upon the fore; nothing distracts him from his duty; he is as much to be depended on as the most experienced helmsman. it was a capital thing for him that he began his training as a cabin-boy. nothing like it. begin at the beginning. it is the best of training for the merchant service." "but surely," interposed mrs. weldon, "you would not deny that in the navy there have been many good officers who have never had the training of which you are speaking?" "true, madam; but yet even some of the best of them have begun at the lowest step of the ladder. for instance, lord nelson." just at this instant cousin benedict emerged from the stern-cabin, and completely absorbed, according to his wont, in his own pursuit, began to wander up and down the deck, peering into the interstices of the network, rummaging under the seats, and drawing his long fingers along the cracks in the floor where the tar had crumbled away. "well, benedict, how are you getting on?" asked mrs weldon. "i? oh, well enough, thank you," he replied dreamily; "but i wish we were on shore." "what were you looking for under that bench?" said captain hull. "insects, of course," answered benedict; "i am always looking for insects." "but don't you know, benedict," said mrs. weldon, "that captain hull is far too particular to allow any vermin on the deck of his vessel?" captain hull smiled and said,-- "mrs weldon is very complimentary; but i am really inclined to hope that your investigations in the cabins of the 'pilgrim' will not be attended with much success." cousin benedict shrugged his shoulders in a manner that indicated that he was aware that the cabins could furnish nothing attractive in the way of insects. "however," continued the captain, "i dare say down in the hold you could find some cockroaches; but cockroaches, i presume, would be of little or no interest to you." "no interest?" cried benedict, at once warmed into enthusiasm; "why, are they not the very orthoptera that roused the imprecations of virgil and horace? are they not closely allied to the _periplaneta orientalis_ and the american kakerlac, which inhabit--" "i should rather say infest," interrupted the captain. "easy enough to see, sir," replied benedict, stopping short with amazement, "that you are not an entomologist!" "i fear i must plead guilty to your accusation," said the captain good-humouredly. "you must not expect every one to be such an enthusiast in your favourite study as yourself." mrs. weldon interposed; "but are you not satisfied with the result of your explorations in new zealand?" "yes, yes," answered benedict, with a sort of hesitating reluctance; "i must not say i was dissatisfied; i was really very delighted to secure that new staphylin which hitherto had never been seen elsewhere than in new california; but still, you know, an entomologist is always craving for fresh additions to his collection." while he was speaking, dingo, leaving little jack, who was romping with him, came and jumped on benedict, and began to fawn on him. "get away, you brute!" he exclaimed, thrusting the dog aside. "poor dingo! good dog!" cried jack, running up and taking the animal's huge head between his tiny hands. "your interest in cockroaches, mr. benedict," observed the captain, "does not seem to extend to dogs." "it isn't that i dislike dogs at all," answered benedict; "but this creature has disappointed me." "how do you mean? you could hardly want to catalogue him with the diptera or hymenoptera?" asked mrs weldon laughingly. "oh, not at all," replied benedict, with the most unmoved gravity. "but i understood that he had been found on the west coast of africa, and i hoped that perhaps he might have brought over some african hemiptera in his coat; but i have searched his coat well, over and over again, without finding a single specimen. the dog has disappointed me," he repeated mournfully. "i can only hope," said the captain, "that if you had found anything, you were going to kill it instantly." benedict looked with mute astonishment into the captain's face. in a moment or two afterwards, he said,-- "i suppose, sir, you acknowledge that sir john franklin was an eminent member of your profession?" "certainly; why?" "because sir john would never take away the life of the most insignificant insect; it is related of him that when he had once been incessantly tormented all day by a mosquito, at last he found it on the back of his hand and blew it off, saying, 'fly away, little creature, the world is large enough for both you and me!'" "that little anecdote of yours, mr. benedict," said the captain, smiling, "is a good deal older than sir john franklin. it is told, in nearly the same words, about uncle toby, in sterne's 'tristram shandy'; only there it was not a mosquito, it was a common fly." "and was uncle toby an entomologist?" asked benedict; "did he ever really live?" "no," said the captain, "he was only a character in a novel." cousin benedict gave a look of utter contempt, and captain hull and mrs weldon could not resist laughing. such is only one instance of the way in which cousin benedict invariably brought it about that all conversation with him ultimately turned upon his favourite pursuit, and all along, throughout the monotonous hours of smooth sailing, while the "pilgrim" was making her little headway to the east, he showed his own devotion to his pet science, by seeking to enlist new disciples. first of all, he tried his powers of persuasion upon dick sands, but soon finding that the young apprentice had no taste for entomological mysteries, he gave him up and turned his attention to the negroes. nor was he much more successful with them; one after another, tom, bat, actæon, and austin had all withdrawn themselves from his instructions, and the class at last was reduced to the single person of hercules; but in him the enthusiastic naturalist thought he had discovered a latent talent which could distinguish between a parasite and a thysanura. hercules accordingly submitted to pass a considerable portion of his leisure in the observation of every variety of coleoptera; he was encouraged to study the extensive collection of stag-beetles, tiger-beetles and lady-birds; and although at times the enthusiast trembled to see some of his most delicate and fragile specimens in the huge grasp of his pupil, he soon learned that the man's gentle docility was a sufficient guarantee against his clumsiness. while the science of entomology was thus occupying its two votaries, mrs. weldon was giving her own best attention to the education of master jack. reading and writing she undertook to teach herself, while she entrusted the instruction in arithmetic to the care of dick sands. under the conviction that a child of five years will make a much more rapid progress if something like amusement be combined with his lessons, mrs. weldon would not teach her boy to spell by the use of an ordinary school primer, but used a set of cubes, on the sides of which the various letters were painted in red. after first making a word and showing it to jack, she set him to put it together without her help, and it was astonishing how quickly the child advanced, and how many hours he would spend in this way, both in the cabin and on deck. there were more than fifty cubes, which, besides the alphabet, included all the digits; so that they were of service for dick sands' lessons as well as for her own. she was more than satisfied with her device. on the morning of the th an incident occurred which could not fail to be observed as somewhat remarkable. jack was half lying, half sitting on the deck, amusing himself with his letters, and had just finished putting together a word with which he intended to puzzle old tom, who, with his hand sheltering his eyes, was pretending not to see the difficulty which was being labouriously prepared to bewilder him; all at once, dingo, who had been gambolling round the child, made a sudden pause, lifted his right paw, and wagged his tail convulsively. then darting down upon a capital s, he seized it in his mouth, and carried it some paces away. "oh, dingo, dingo! you mustn't eat my letters!" shouted the child. but the dog had already dropped the block of wood, and coming back again, picked up another, which he laid quietly by the side of the first. this time it was a capital v. jack uttered an exclamation of astonishment which brought to his side not only his mother, but the captain and dick, who were both on deck. in answer to their inquiry as to what had occurred, jack cried out in the greatest excitement that dingo knew how to read. at any rate he was sure that he knew his letters. dick sands smiled and stooped to take back the letters. dingo snarled and showed his teeth, but the apprentice was not frightened; he carried his point, and replaced the two blocks among the rest. dingo in an instant pounced upon them again, and having drawn them to his side, laid a paw upon each of them, as if to signify his intention of retaining them in his possession. of the other letters of the alphabet he took no notice at all. "it is very strange," said mrs. weldon; "he has picked out s v again." "s v!" repeated the captain thoughtfully; "are not those the letters that form the initials on his collar?" and turning to the old negro, he continued,-- "tom didn't you say that this dog did not always belong to the captain of the 'waldeck'?" "to the best of my belief," replied tom, "the captain had only had him about two years. i often heard him tell how he found him at the mouth of the congo." "do you suppose that he never knew where the animal came from, or to whom he had previously belonged?" asked captain hull. "never," answered tom, shaking his head; "a lost dog is worse to identify than a lost child; you see, he can't make himself understood any way." the captain made no answer, but stood musing; mrs. weldon interrupted him. "these letters, captain, seem to be recalling something to your recollection. "i can hardly go so far as to say that, mrs. weldon," he replied; "but i cannot help associating them with the fate of a brave explorer." "whom do you mean? said the lady. "in , just two years ago," the captain continued, "a french traveller, under the auspices of the geographical society of paris, set out for the purpose of crossing africa from west to east. his starting-point was the mouth of the congo, and his exit was designed to be as near as possible to cape deldago, at the mouth of the river rovouma, of which he was to ascertain the true course. the name of this man was samuel vernon, and i confess it strikes me as somewhat a strange coincidence that the letters engraved on dingo's collar should be vernon's initials." [illustration: jack cried out in the greatest excitement that dingo knew how to read] "is nothing known about this traveller?" asked mrs. weldon. "nothing was ever heard of him after his first departure. it appears quite certain that he failed to reach the east coast, and it can only be conjectured either that he died upon his way, or that he was made prisoner by the natives; and if so, and this dog ever belonged to him, the animal might have made his way back to the sea-coast, where, just about the time that would be likely, the captain of the 'waldeck' picked him up." "but you have no reason to suppose, captain hull, that vernon ever owned a dog of this description?" "i own i never heard of it," said the captain; "but still the impression fixes itself on my mind that the dog must have been his; how he came to know one letter from another, it is not for me to pretend to say. look at him now, madam! he seems not only to be reading the letters for himself, but to be inviting us to come and read them with him." whilst mrs. weldon was watching the dog with much amusement, dick sands, who had listened to the previous conversation, took the opportunity of asking the captain whether the traveller vernon had started on his expedition quite alone. "that is really more than i can tell you, my boy," answered captain hull; "but i should almost take it for granted that he would have a considerable retinue of natives." the captain spoke without being aware that negoro had meanwhile quietly stolen on deck. at first his presence was quite unnoticed, and no one observed the peculiar glance with which he looked at the two letters over which dingo still persisted in keeping guard. the dog, however, no sooner caught sight of the cook than he began to bristle with rage, whereupon negoro, with a threatening gesture which seemed half involuntary, withdrew immediately to his accustomed quarters. the incident did not escape the captain's observation. "no doubt," he said, "there is some mystery here;" and he was pondering the matter over in his mind when dick sands spoke. "don't you think it very singular, sir, that this dog should have such a knowledge of the alphabet?" jack here put in his word. "my mamma has told me about a dog whose name was munito, who could read as well as a schoolmaster, and could play dominoes." mrs. weldon smiled. "i am afraid, my child, that that dog was not quite so learned as you imagine. i don't suppose he knew one letter from another; but his master, who was a clever american, having found out that the animal had a very keen sense of hearing, taught him some curious tricks." "what sort of tricks?" asked dick, who was almost as much interested as little jack. "when he had to perform in public," continued mrs. weldon, "a lot of letters like yours, jack, were spread out upon a table, and munito would put together any word that the company should propose, either aloud or in a whisper, to his master. the creature would walk about until he stopped at the very letter which was wanted. the secret of it all was that the dog's owner gave him a signal when he was to stop by rattling a little tooth-pick in his pocket, making a slight noise that only the dog's ears were acute enough to perceive." dick was highly amused, and said,-- "but that was a dog who could do nothing wonderful without his master." "just so," answered mrs. weldon; "and it surprises me very much to see dingo picking out these letters without a master to direct him." [illustration: negoro, with a threatening gesture that seemed half involuntary, withdrew immediately to his accustomed quarters.] "the more one thinks of it, the more strange it is," said captain hull; "but, after all, dingo's sagacity is not greater than that of the dog which rang the convent bell in order to get at the dish that was reserved for passing beggars; nor than that of the dog who had to turn a spit every other day, and never could be induced to work when it was not his proper day. dingo evidently has no acquaintance with any other letters except the two s v; and some circumstance which we can never guess has made him familiar with them." "what a pity he cannot talk!" exclaimed the apprentice; "we should know why it is that he always shows his teeth at negoro." "and tremendous teeth they are!" observed the captain, as dingo at that moment opened his mouth, and made a display of his formidable fangs. chapter vi. a whale in sight. it was only what might be expected that the dog's singular exhibition of sagacity should repeatedly form a subject of conversation between mrs. weldon, the captain, and dick. the young apprentice in particular began to entertain a lurking feeling of distrust towards negoro, although it must be owned that the man's conduct in general afforded no tangible grounds for suspicion. nor as it only among the stern passengers that dingo's remarkable feat was discussed; amongst the crew in the bow the dog not only soon gained the reputation of being able to read, but was almost credited with being able to write too, as well as any sailor among them; indeed the chief wonder was that he did not speak. "perhaps he can," suggested bolton, the helmsman, "and likely enough some fine day we shall have him coming to ask about our bearings, and to inquire which way the wind lies." "ah! why not?" assented another sailor; "parrots talk, and magpies talk; why shouldn't a dog? for my part, i should guess it must be easier to speak with a mouth than with a beak." "of course it is," said howick, the boatswain; "only a quadruped has never yet been known to do it." perhaps, however, the worthy fellow would have been amazed to hear that a certain danish _savant_ once possesed a dog that could actually pronounce quite distinctly nearly twenty different words, demonstrating that the construction of the glottis, the aperture at the top of the windpipe, was adapted for the emission of regular sounds: of course the animal attached no meaning to the words it uttered any more than a parrot or a jay can comprehend their own chatterings. [illustration: "this dingo is nothing out of the way."] thus, unconsciously, dingo had become the hero of the hour. on several separate occasions captain hull repeated the experiment of spreading out the blocks before him, but invariably with the same result; the dog never failed, without the slightest hesitation, to pick out the two letters, leaving all the rest of the alphabet quite unnoticed. cousin benedict alone, somewhat ostentatiously, professed to take no interest in the circumstance. "you cannot suppose," he said to captain hull, after various repetitions of the trick, "that dogs are to be reckoned the only animals endowed with intelligence rats, you know, will always leave a sinking ship, and beavers invariably raise their dams before the approach of a flood. did not the horses of nicomedes, scanderberg and oppian die of grief for the loss of their masters? have there not been instances of donkeys with wonderful memories? birds, too, have been trained to do the most remarkable things; they have been taught to write word after word at their master's dictation; there are cockatoos who can count the people in a room as accurately as a mathematician; and haven't you heard of the old cardinal's parrot that he would not part with for a hundred gold crowns because it could repeat the apostles' creed from beginning to end without a blunder? and insects," he continued, warming into enthusiasm, "how marvellously they vindicate the axiom-- 'in minimis maximus deus!' are not the structures of ants the very models for the architects of a city? has the diving-bell of the aquatic argyroneta ever been surpassed by the invention of the most skilful student of mechanical art? and cannot fleas go through a drill and fire a gun as well as the most accomplished artilleryman? this dingo is nothing out of the way. i suppose he belongs to some unclassed species of mastiff. perhaps one day or other he may come to be identified as the 'canis alphabeticus' of new zealand." the worthy entomologist delivered this and various similar harangues; but dingo, nevertheless, retained his high place in the general estimation, and by the occupants of the forecastle was regarded as little short of a phenomenon. the feeling, otherwise universal, was not in any degree shared by negoro, and it is not improbable that the man would have been tempted to some foul play with the dog if the open sympathies of the crew had not kept him in check. more than ever he studiously avoided coming in contact in any way with the animal, and dick sands in his own mind was quite convinced that since the incident of the letters, the cook's hatred of the dog had become still more intense. after continual alternations with long and wearisome calms the north-east wind perceptibly moderated, and on the both, captain hull really began to hope that such a change would ensue as to allow the schooner to run straight before the wind. nineteen days had elapsed since the "pilgrim" had left auckland, a period not so long but that with a favourable breeze it might be made up at last. some days however were yet to elapse before the wind veered round to the anticipated quarter. it has been already stated that this portion of the pacific is almost always deserted. it is out of the line of the american and australian steam-packets, and except a whaler had been brought into it by some such exceptional circumstances as the "pilgrim," it was quite unusual to see one in this latitude. but, however void of traffic was the surface of the sea, to none but an unintelligent mind could it appear monotonous or barren of interest. the poetry of the ocean breathes forth in its minute and almost imperceptible changes. a marine plant, a tuft of seaweed lightly furrowing the water, a drifting spar with its unknown history, may afford unlimited scope--for the imagination; every little drop passing, in its process of evaporation, backwards and forwards from sea to sky, might perchance reveal its own special secret; and happy are those minds which are capable of a due appreciation of the mysteries of air and ocean. [illustration: occasionally dick sands would take a pistol, and now and then a rifle.] above the surface as well as below, the restless flood is ever teaming with animal life; and the passengers on board the "pilgrim" derived no little amusement from watching great flocks of birds migrating northwards to escape the rigour of the polar winter, and ever and again descending in rapid flight to secure some tiny fish. occasionally dick sands would take a pistol, and now and then a rifle, and, thanks to mr. weldon's former instructions, would bring down various specimens of the feathered tribe. sometimes white petrels would congregate in considerable numbers near the schooner; and sometimes petrels of another species, with brown borders on their wings, would come in sight; now there would be flocks of damiers skimming the water; and now groups of penguins, whose clumsy gait appears so ludicrous on shore; but, as captain hull pointed out, when their stumpy wings were employed as fins, they were a match for the most rapid of fish, so that sailors have often mistaken them for bonitos. high over head, huge albatrosses, their outspread wings measuring ten feet from tip to tip, would soar aloft, thence to swoop down towards the deep, into which they plunged their beaks in search of food. such incidents and scenes as these were infinite in their variety, and it was accordingly only for minds that were obtuse to the charms of nature that the voyage could be monotonous. on the day the wind shifted, mrs. weldon was walking up and down on the "pilgrim's" stern, when her attention was attracted by what seemed to her a strange phenomenon. all of a sudden, far as the eye could reach, the sea had assumed a reddish hue, as if it were tinged with blood. both dick and jack were standing close behind her, and she cried,-- "look, dick, look! the sea is all red. is it a sea-weed that is making the water so strange a colour? "no," answered dick, "it is not a weed; it is what the sailors call whales' food; it is formed, i believe, of innumerable myriads of minute crustacea." "crustacea they may be," replied mrs. weldon, "but they must be so small that they are mere insects. cousin benedict no doubt will like to see them." she called aloud,-- "benedict! benedict! come here! we have a sight here to interest you." the amateur naturalist slowly emerged from his cabin followed by captain hull. "ah! yes, i see!" said the captain; "whales' food; just the opportunity for you, mr. benedict; a chance not to be thrown away for studying one of the most curious of the crustacea." "nonsense!" ejaculated benedict contemptuously; "utter nonsense!" "why? what do you mean, mr. benedict?" retorted the captain; "surely you, as an entomologist, must know that i am right in my conviction that these crustacea belong to one of the six classes of the articulata." the disdain of cousin benedict was expressed by a repeated sneer. "are you not aware, sir, that my researches as an entomologist are confined entirely to the hexapoda?" captain hull, unable to repress a smile, only answered good-humouredly,-- "i see, sir, your tastes do not lie in the same direction as those of the whale." and turning to mrs. weldon, he continued,-- "to whalemen, madam, this is a sight that speaks for itself. it is a token that we ought to lose no time in getting out our lines and looking to the state of our harpoons. there is game not far away." jack gave vent to his astonishment. "do you mean that great creatures like whales feed on such tiny things as these?" "yes, my boy," said the captain; "and i daresay they are as nice to them as semolina and ground rice are to you. "when a whale gets into the middle of them he has nothing to do but to open his jaws, and, in a minute, hundreds of thousands of these minute creatures are inside the fringe or whalebone around his palate, and he is sure of a good mouthful." "so you see, jack," said dick, "the whale gets his shrimps without the trouble of shelling them." "and when he has just closed his snappers is the very time to give him a good taste of the harpoon," added captain hull. the words had hardly escaped the captain's lips when a shout from one of the sailors announced,-- "a whale to larboard!" "there's the whale!" repeated the captain. all his professional instincts were aroused in an instant, and he hurried to the bow, followed in eager curiosity by all the stern passengers. even cousin benedict loitered up in the rear, constrained, in spite of himself, to take a share in the general interest. there was no doubt about the matter. four miles or so to windward an unusual commotion in the water betokened to experienced eyes the presence of a whale; but the distance was too great to permit a reasonable conjecture to be formed as to which species of those mammifers the creature belonged. three distinct species are familiarly known. first there is the right whale, which is ordinarily sought for in the northern fisheries. the average length of this cetacean is sixty feet, though it has been known to attain the length of eighty feet. it has no dorsal fin, and beneath its skin is a thick layer of blubber. one of these monsters alone will yield as much as a hundred barrels of oil. then there is the hump-back, a typical representative of the species "balænoptera," a definition which may at first sight appear to possess an interest for an entomologist, but which really refers to two white dorsal fins, each half as wide as the body, resembling a pair of wings, and in their formation similar to those of the flying-fish. it must be owned, however, that a flying whale would decidedly be a _rara avis_. lastly, there is the jubarte, commonly known as the finback. it is provided with a dorsal fin, and in length not unfrequently is a match for the gigantic right whale. while it was impossible to decide to which of the three species the whale in the distance really belonged, the general impression inclined to the belief that it was a jubarte. with longing eyes captain hull and his crew gazed at the object of general attraction. just as irresistibly as it is said a clockmaker is drawn on to examine the mechanism of every clock which chance may throw in his way, so is a whaleman ever anxious to plunge his harpoon into any whale that he can get within his reach. the larger the game the more keen the excitement; and no elephant-hunter's eagerness ever surpasses the zest of the whale-fisher when once started in pursuit of the prey. to the crew the sight of the whale was the opening of an unexpected opportunity, and no wonder they were fired with the burning hope that even now they might do something to supply the deficiency of their meagre haul throughout the season. far away as the creature still was, the captain's practised eye soon enabled him to detect various indications that satisfied him as to its true species. amongst other things that arrested his attention, he observed a column of water and vapour ejected from the nostrils. "it isn't a right whale," he said; "if so, its spout would be smaller and it would rise higher in the air. and i do not think it is a hump-back. i cannot hear the hump-back's roar. dick, tell me, what do you think about it?" with a critical eye dick sands looked long and steadily at the spout. "it blows out water, sir," said the apprentice, "water, as well as vapour. i should think it is a finback. but it must be a rare large one." "seventy feet, at least!" rejoined the captain, flushing with his enthusiasm. "what a big fellow!" said jack, catching the excitement of his elders. [illustration: "what a big fellow!"] "ah, jack, my boy," chuckled the captain, "the whale little thinks who are watching him enjoy his breakfast!" "yes," said the boatswain; "a dozen such gentlemen as that would freight a craft twice the size of ours; but this one, if only we can get him, will go a good way towards filling our empty barrels." "rather rough work, you know," said dick, "to attack a finback!" "you are right, dick," answered the captain; "the boat has yet to be built which is strong enough to resist the flap of a jubarte's tail." "but the profit is worth the risk, captain, isn't it?" "you are right again, dick," replied captain hull, and as he spoke, he clambered on to the bowsprit in order that he might get a better view of the whale. the crew were as eager as their captain. mounted on the fore-shrouds, they scanned the movements of their coveted prey in the distance, freely descanting upon the profit to be made out of a good finback and declaring that it would be a thousand pities if this chance of filling the casks below should be permitted to be lost. captain hull was perplexed. he bit his nails and knitted his brow. "mamma!" cried little jack, "i should so much like to see a whale close,--quite close, you know." "and so you shall, my boy," replied the captain, who was standing by, and had come to the resolve that if his men would back him, he would make an attempt to capture the prize. he turned to his crew,-- "my men! what do you think? shall we make the venture? remember, we are all alone; we have no whalemen to help us; we must rely upon ourselves; i have thrown a harpoon before now; i can throw a harpoon again; what do you say?" the crew responded with a ringing cheer,-- "ay, ay, sir! ay, ay!" chapter vii. preparations for an attack. great was the excitement that now prevailed, and the question of an attempt to capture the sea-monster became the ruling theme of conversation. mrs. weldon expressed considerable doubt as to the prudence of venturing upon so great a risk with such a limited number of hands, but when captain hull assured her that he had more than once successfully attacked a whale with a single boat, and that for his part he had no fear of failure, she made no further remonstrance, and appeared quite satisfied. having formed his resolve, the captain lost no time in setting about his preliminary arrangements. he could not really conceal from his own mind that the pursuit of a finback was always a matter of some peril, and he was anxious, accordingly, to make every possible provision which forethought could devise against all emergencies. besides her long-boat, which was kept between the two masts, the "pilgrim" had three whale-boats, two of them slung to the starboard and larboard davits, and the third at the stern, outside the taffrail. during the fishing season, when the crew was reinforced by a hired complement of new zealand whalemen, all three of these boats would be brought at once into requisition, but at present the whole crew of the "pilgrim" was barely sufficient to man one of the three boats. tom and his friends were ready to volunteer their assistance, but any offers of service from them were necessarily declined; the manipulation of a whale-boat can only be entrusted to those who are experienced in the work, as a false turn of the tiller or a premature stroke of the oar may in a moment compromise the safety of the whole party. thus compelled to take all his trained sailors with him on his venturous expedition, the captain had no alternative than to leave his apprentice in charge of the schooner during his absence. dick's choice would have been very much in favour of taking a share in the whale-hunt, but he had the good sense to know that the developed strength of a man would be of far greater service in the boat, and accordingly without a murmur he resigned himself to remain behind. of the five sailors who were to man the boat, there were four to take the oars, whilst howick the boatswain was to manage the oar at the stern, which on these occasions generally replaces an ordinary rudder as being quicker in action in the event of any of the side oars being disabled. the post of harpooner was of course assigned to captain hull, to whose lot it would consequently fall first to hurl his weapon at the whale, then to manage the unwinding of the line to which the harpoon was attached, and finally to kill the creature by lance-wounds when it should emerge again from below the sea. a method sometimes employed for commencing an attack is to place a sort of small cannon on the bows or deck of the boat and to discharge from it either a harpoon or some explosive bullets, which make frightful lacerations on the body of the victim; but the "pilgrim" was not provided with apparatus of this description; not only are all the contrivances of this kind very costly and difficult to manage, but the fishermen generally are averse to innovations, and prefer the old-fashioned harpoons. it was with these alone that captain hull was now about to encounter the finback that was lying some four miles distant from his ship. the weather promised as favourably as could be for the enterprise. the sea was calm, and the wind moreover was still moderating, so that there was no likelihood of the schooner drifting away during the captain's absence. when the starboard whale-boat had been lowered, and the four sailors had entered it, howick passed a couple of harpoons down to them, and some lances which had been carefully sharpened; to these were added five coils of stout and supple rope, each feet long, for a whale when struck often dives so deeply that even these lengths of line knotted together are found to be insufficient. after these implements of attack had been properly stowed in the bows, the crew had only to await the pleasure of their captain. the "pilgrim," before the sailors left her, had been made to heave to, and the yards were braced so as to secure her remaining as stationary as possible. as the time drew near for the captain to quit her, he gave a searching look all round to satisfy himself that everything was in order; he saw that the halyards were properly tightened, and the sails trimmed as they should be, and then calling the young apprentice to his side, he said,-- "now, dick, i am going to leave you for a few hours: while i am away, i hope that it will not be necessary for you to make any movement whatever. however, you must be on the watch. it is not very likely, but it is possible that this finback may carry us out to some distance. if so, you will have to follow; and in that case, i am sure you may rely upon tom and his friends for assistance." one and all, the negroes assured the captain of their willingness to obey dick's instructions, the sturdy hercules rolling up his capacious shirt-sleeves as if to show that he was ready for immediate action. the captain went on,-- "the weather is beautifully fine, dick, and i see no prospect of the wind freshening; but come what may, i have one direction to give you which i strictly enforce. you must not leave the ship. if i want you to follow us, i will hoist a flag on the boat-hook." "you may trust me, sir," answered dick; "and i will keep a good look-out." "all right, my lad; keep a cool head and a good heart. you are second captain now, you know. i never heard of any one of your age being placed in such a post; be a credit to your position!" dick blushed, and the bright flush that rose to his cheeks spoke more than words. "the lad may be trusted," murmured the captain to himself; "he is as modest as he is courageous. yes; he may be trusted." it cannot be denied that the captain was not wholly without compunction at the step he was taking; he was aware of the danger to which he was exposing himself, but he beguiled himself with the persuasion that it was only for a few hours; and his fisherman's instinct was very keen. it was not only for himself; the desire upon the part of the crew was almost irresistibly strong that every opportunity ought to be employed for making the cargo of the schooner equal to her owner's expectations. and so he finally prepared to start. "i wish you all success!" said mrs. weldon. "many thanks!" he replied. little jack put in his word,-- "and you will try and catch the whale without hurting him much?" "all right, young gentleman," answered the captain; "he shall hardly feel the tip of our fingers!" "sometimes," said cousin benedict, as if he had been pondering the expedition in relation to his pet science, "sometimes there are strange insects clinging to the backs of these great mammifers; do you think you are likely to procure me any specimens?" "you shall soon have the opportunity of investigating for yourself," was the captain's reply. "and you, tom; we shall be looking to you for help in cutting up our prize, when we get it alongside," continued he. "we shall be quite ready, sir," said the negro. "one thing more, dick," added the captain; "you may as well be getting up the empty barrels out of the hold; they will be all ready." "it shall be done, sir," answered dick promptly. if everything went well it was the intention that the whale after it had been killed should be towed to the side of the schooner, where it would be firmly lashed. then the sailors with their feet in spiked shoes would get upon its back and proceed to cut the blubber, from head to tail, in long strips, which would first be divided into lumps about a foot and a half square, the lumps being subsequently chopped into smaller portions capable of being stored away in casks. the ordinary rule would be for a ship, as soon as the flaying was complete, to make its way to land where the blubber could be at once boiled down, an operation by which it is reduced by about a third of its weight, and by which it yields all its oil, the only portion of it which is of any value. under present circumstances, however, captain hull would not think of melting down the blubber until his arrival at valparaiso, and as he was sanguine that the wind would soon set in a favourable direction, he calculated that he should reach that port in less than three weeks, a period during which his cargo would not be deteriorated. the latest movement with regard to the "pilgrim" had been to bring her somewhat nearer the spot where the spouts of vapour indicated the presence of the coveted prize. the creature continued to swim about in the reddened waters, opening and shutting its huge jaws like an automaton, and absorbing at every mouthful whole myriads of animalcula. no one entertained a fear that it would try to make an escape; it was the unanimous verdict that it was "a fighting whale," and one that would resist all attacks to the very end. as captain hull descended the rope-ladder and took his place in the front of the boat, mrs. weldon and all on board renewed their good wishes. dingo stood with his fore paws upon the taffrail, and appeared as much as any to be bidding the adventurous party farewell. when the boat pushed off, those who were left on board the "pilgrim" made their way slowly to the bows, from which the most extensive view was to be gained. the captain's voice came from the retreating boat,-- "a sharp look-out, dick; a sharp look-out; one eye on us, one on the ship!" [illustration: the captain's voice came from the retreating boat. _page _] [illustration: "i must get you to keep your eye upon that man" _page ._] "ay, ay, sir," replied the apprentice. by his gestures the captain showed that he was under some emotion; he called out again, but the boat had made such headway that it was too far off for any words to be heard. dingo broke out into a piteous howl. the dog was still standing erect, his eye upon the boat in the distance. to the sailors, ever superstitious, the howling was not reassuring. even mrs. weldon was startled. "why, dingo, dingo," she exclaimed, "this isn't the way to encourage your friends. come here, sir; you must behave better than that!" sinking down on all fours the animal walked slowly up to mrs. weldon, and began to lick her hand. "ah!" muttered old tom, shaking his head solemnly, "he doesn't wag his tail at all. a bad omen." all at once the dog gave a savage growl. as she turned her head, mrs weldon caught sight of negoro making his way to the forecastle, probably actuated by the general spirit of curiosity to follow the maneuvers of the whale-boat. he stopped and seized a handspike as soon as he saw the ferocious attitude of the dog. the lady was quite unable to pacify the animal, which seemed about to fly upon the throat of the cook, but dick sands called out loudly,-- "down, dingo, down!" the dog obeyed; but it seemed to be with extreme reluctance that he returned to dick's side; he continued to growl, as if still remembering his rage. negoro had turned very pale, and having put down the handspike, made his way cautiously back to his own quarters. "hercules," said dick, "i must get you to keep your eye upon that man." "yes, i will," he answered, significantly clenching his fists. dick took his station at the helm, whence he kept an earnest watch upon the whale-boat, which under the vigourous plying of the seamen's oars had become little more than a speck upon the water. chapter viii. a catastrophe. experienced whaleman as he was, captain hull knew the difficulty of the task he had undertaken, he was alive to the importance of making his approach to the whale from the leeward, so that there should be no sound to apprize the creature of the proximity of the boat. he had perfect confidence in his boatswain, and felt sure that he would take the proper course to insure a favourable result to the enterprise. "we mustn't show ourselves too soon, howick," he said. "certainly not," replied howick, "i am going to skirt the edge of the discoloured water, and i shall take good care to get well to leeward." "all right," the captain answered, and turning to the crew said, "now, my lads, as quietly as you can." muffling the sound of their oars by placing straw in the rowlocks, and avoiding the least unnecessary noise, the men skilfully propelled the boat along the outline of the water tinged by the crustacea, so that while the starboard oars still dipped in the green and limpid sea, the larboard were in the deep-dyed waves, and seemed as though they were dripping with blood. "wine on this side, water on that," said one of the sailors jocosely. "but neither of them fit to drink," rejoined the captain sharply, "so just hold your tongue!" under howick's guidance the boat now glided stealthily on to the greasy surface of the reddened waters, where she appeared to float as on a pool of oil. the whale seemed utterly unconscious of the attack that was threatening it, and allowed the boat to come nearer without exhibiting any sign of alarm. [illustration: the whale seemed utterly unconscious of the attack that was threatening it] the wide circuit which the captain had thought it advisable to take had the effect of considerably increasing the distance between his boat and the "pilgrim," whilst the strange rapidity with which objects at sea become diminished in apparent magnitude, as if viewed through the wrong end of a telescope, made the ship look farther away than she actually was. another half-hour elapsed, and at the end of it the captain found himself so exactly to leeward that the huge body of the whale was precisely intermediate between his boat and the "pilgrim." a closer approach must now be made; every precaution must be used; but the time had come to get sufficiently near for the harpoon to be discharged. "slowly, my men," said the captain, in a low voice; "slowly and softly!" howick muttered something that implied that the whale had ceased blowing so hard, and that it was aware of their approach; the captain, upon this, enjoined the most perfect silence, but urged his crew onwards, until, in five or six minutes, they were within a cable's length of the finback. erect at the stern the boatswain stood, and manoeuvred to get the boat as close as possible to the whale's left flank, while he made it an object of special care to keep beyond the reach of its formidable tail, one stroke of which could involve them all in instantaneous disaster. the manipulation of the boat thus left to the boatswain, the captain made ready for the arduous effort that was before him. at the extreme bow, harpoon in hand, with his legs somewhat astride so as to insure his equilibrium, he stood prepared to plunge his weapon into the mass that rose above the surface of the sea. by his side, coiled in a pail, and with one end firmly attached to the harpoon, was the first of the five lines which if the whale should dive to a considerable depth, would have to be joined end to end, one after another. "are you ready, my lads?" said he, hardly above a whisper. "ay, ay, sir," replied howick, speaking as gently as his master, and giving a firmer grip to the rudder-oar that he held in his hands. "then, alongside at once," was the captain's order, which was promptly obeyed, so that in a few minutes the boat was only about ten feet from the body of the whale. the animal did not move. was it asleep? in that case there was hope that the very first stroke might be fatal. but it was hardly likely. captain hull felt only too sure that there was some different cause to be assigned for its remaining so still and stationary; and the rapid glances of the boatswain showed that he entertained the same suspicion. but it was no time for speculation; the moment for action had arrived, and no attempt was made on either hand to exchange ideas upon the subject. captain hull seized his weapon tightly by the shaft, and having poised it several times in the air, in order to make more sure of his aim, he gathered all his strength and hurled it against the side of the finback. "backwater!" he shouted. the sailors pushed back with all their might, and the boat in an instant was beyond the range of the creature's tail. and now the immoveableness of the animal was at once accounted for. "see; there's a youngster!" exclaimed howick. and he was not mistaken. startled by the blow of the harpoon the monster had heeled over on to its side, and the movement revealed a young whale which the mother had been disturbed in the act of suckling. it was a discovery which made captain hull aware that the capture of the whale would be attended with double difficulty; he knew; that she would defend "her little one" (if such a term can be applied to a creature that was at least twenty feet long) with the most determined fury; yet having made what he considered a successful commencement of the attack, he would not be daunted, nor deterred from his endeavour to secure so fine a prize. the whale did not, as sometimes happens, make a precipitate dash upon the boat, a proceeding which necessitates the instant cutting of the harpoon-line, and an immediate retreat, but it took the far more usual course of diving downwards almost perpendicularly. it was followed by its calf; very soon, however, after rising once again to the surface with a sudden bound, it began swimming along under water with great rapidity. before its first plunge captain hull and howick had sufficient opportunity to observe that it was an unusually large balaenoptera, measuring at least eighty feet from head to tail, its colour being of a yellowish-brown, dappled with numerous spots of a darker shade. the pursuit, or what may be more aptly termed "the towing," of the whale had now fairly commenced. the sailors had shipped their oars, and the whale-boat darted like an arrow along the surface of the waves. in spite of the oscillation, which was very violent, howick succeeded in maintaining equilibrium, and did not need the repeated injunctions with which the agitated captain urged his boatswain to be upon his guard. but fast as the boat flew along, she could not keep pace with the whale, and so rapidly did the line run out that except proper care had been taken to keep the bucket in which it was coiled filled with water, the friction against the edge of the boat would inevitably have caused it to take fire. the whale gave no indication of moderating its speed, so that the first line was soon exhausted, and the second had to be attached to its end, only to be run out with like rapidity. in a few minutes more it was necessary to join on the third line; it was evident that the whale had not been hit in a vital part, and so far from rising to the surface, the oblique direction of the rope indicated that the creature was seeking yet greater depths. "confound it!" exclaimed the captain; "it seems as if the brute is going to run out all our line." "yes; and see what a distance the animal is dragging us away from the 'pilgrim,'" answered howick. "sooner or later, however," said captain hull, "the thing must come to the surface; she is not a fish, you know." "she is saving her breath for the sake of her speed," said one of the sailors with a grin. but grin as he might, both he and his companions began to look serious when the fourth line had to be added to the third, and more serious still when the fifth was added to the fourth. the captain even began to mutter imprecations upon the refractory brute that was putting their patience to so severe a test. the last line was nearly all uncoiled, and the general consternation was growing very great, when there was observed to be a slight slackening in the tension. "thank heaven!" cried the captain; "the beast has tired herself out at last." casting his eye towards the "pilgrim," he saw at a glance that she could not be less than five miles to leeward. it was a long distance, but when, according to his arrangement, he had hoisted the flag on the boat-hook which was to be the signal for the ship to approach, he had the satisfaction of seeing that dick sands and the negroes at once began bracing the yards to get as near as possible to the wind. the breeze, however, blew only in short, unsteady puffs, and it was only too evident that the "pilgrim" would have considerable difficulty in working her way to the whale-boat, even if she succeeded at last. meantime, just as had been expected, the whale had risen to the surface of the water, the harpoon still fixed firmly in her side. she remained motionless, apparently waiting for her calf, which she had far out-distanced in her mad career. captain hull ordered his men to pull towards her as rapidly as they could, and on getting close up, two of the sailors, following the captain's example, shipped their oars and took up the long lances with which the whale was now to be attacked. howick held himself in readiness to sheer off quickly in the event of the finback making a turn towards the boat. "now, my lads!" shouted the captain. "look out! take a good aim! no false shots! are you ready, howick?" "quite ready, captain," answered the boatswain, adding, "but it perplexes me altogether to see the brute so quiet all of a sudden." "it looks suspicious," said the captain; "but never mind; go on! straight ahead!" captain hull was becoming more excited every moment. during the time the boat was approaching, the whale had only turned round a little in the water without changing its position. it was evidently still looking for its calf, which was not to be seen by its side. all of a sudden it gave a jerk with its tail which carried it some few yards away. the men were all excited. was the beast going to escape again? was the fatiguing pursuit all to come over a second time? must not the chase be abandoned? would not the prize have to be given up? but no: the whale was not starting on another flight; it had merely turned so as to face the boat, and now rapidly beating the water with its enormous fins, it commenced a frantic dash forwards. "look out, howick, she's coming!" shouted captain hull. the skilful boatswain was all on the alert; the boat swerved, as if by instinct, so as to avoid the blow, and as the whale passed furiously by, she received three tremendous thrusts from the lances of the captain and the two men, who all endeavoured to strike at some vital part. there was a sudden pause. the whale spouted up two gigantic columns of blood and water, lashed its tail, and, with bounds and plunges that were terrible to behold, renewed its angry attack upon the boat. none but the most determined of whalemen could fail to lose their head under such an assault. calm and collected, however, the crew remained. once again did howick adroitly sheer aside, and once again did the three lances do their deadly work upon the huge carcase as it rolled impetuously past; but this time, so great was the wave that was caused by the infuriated animal, that the boat was well-nigh full of water, and in imminent danger of being capsized. "bale away, men!" cried the captain. putting down their oars, the other sailors set to work baling with all their might. captain hull cut the harpoon-line, now no longer required, because the whale, maddened with pain and grief for the loss of its offspring, would certainly make no further attempt to escape, but would fight desperately to the very end. the finback was obviously bent on a third onslaught upon the boat, which, being in spite of all the men's exertions still more than half full of water, no longer answered readily to the rudder-oar. no one thought of flight. the swiftest boat could be overtaken in a very few bounds. there was no alternative but to face the encounter. it was not long in coming. their previous good fortune failed them. the whale in passing caught the boat with such a violent blow from its dorsal fin, that the men lost their footing and the lances missed their mark. "where's howick?" screamed the captain in alarm. "here i am, captain; all right!" replied the boatswain, who had scrambled to his feet only to find that the oar with which he had been steering was snapped in half. "the rudder's smashed," he said. "take another, howick; quick!" cried the captain. but scarcely had he time to replace the broken oar, when a bubbling was heard a few yards away from the boat, and the young whale made its appearance on the surface of the sea. catching sight of it instantly, the mother made a fresh dash in its direction, the maternal instincts were aroused, and the contest must become more deadly than ever. captain hull looked towards the "pilgrim," and waved his signal frantically above his head. it was, however, with no hope of succour; he was only too well aware that no human efforts could effectually hasten the arrival of the ship. dick sands indeed had at once obeyed the first summons: already the wind was filling the sails, but in default of steam power her progress at best could not be otherwise than slow. not only did dick feel convinced that it would be a useless waste of time to lower a boat and come off with the negroes to the rescue, but he remembered the strict orders he had received on no account to quit the ship. captain hull, however, could perceive that the apprentice had had the aft-boat lowered, and was towing it along, so that it should be in readiness for a refuge as soon as they should get within reach. [illustration: the boat was well nigh full of water, and in imminent danger of being capsized] but the whale, close at hand, demanded attention that could ill be spared for the yet distant ship. covering her young one with her body, she was manifestly designing another charge full upon the boat. "on your guard, howick! sheer off!" bellowed the captain. but the order was useless. the fresh oar that the boatswain had taken to replace the broken one was considerably shorter, and consequently it failed in lever-power. there was, in fact, no helm for the boat to answer. the sailors saw the failure, and convinced that all was lost uttered one long, despairing cry that might have been heard on board the "pilgrim." another moment, and from beneath there came a tremendous blow from the monster's tail that sent the boat flying in the air. in fragments it fell back again into a sea that was lashed into fury by the angry flapping of the finback's fins. was it not possible for the unfortunate men, bleeding and wounded as they were, still to save themselves by clinging to some floating spar? captain hull is indeed seen endeavouring to hoist the boatswain on to a drifting plank. but all in vain. there is no hope. the whale, writhing in the convulsions of death, returns yet once again to the attack; the waters around the struggling sailors seethe and foam. a brief turmoil follows as if there were the bursting of some vast waterspout. in a quarter of an hour afterwards, dick sands, with the negroes, reaches the scene of the catastrophe. all is still and desolate. every living object has vanished. nothing is visible except a few fragments of the whale-boat floating on the blood-stained water. [illustration: there is no hope.] chapter ix. dick's promotion. the first feeling experienced by those on board the "pilgrim," after witnessing the terrible disaster was one of grief and horror at the fearful death that had befallen the victims. captain hull and his men had been swept away before their very eyes, and they had been powerless to assist. not one was saved; the schooner had reached the spot too late to offer the least resistance to the attacks of the formidable sea-monster. when dick and the negroes returned to the ship after their hopeless search, with only the corroboration of their sad foreboding that captain and crew had disappeared for ever, mrs. weldon sank upon her knees; little jack knelt beside her crying bitterly; and dick, old nan, and all the negroes stood reverently around her whilst with great devoutness the lady offered up the prayer of commendation for the souls of the departing. all sympathized heartily with her supplications, nor was there any diminution of their fervour when she proceeded to implore that the survivors might have strength and courage for their own hour of need. the situation was indeed very grave. here was the "pilgrim" in the middle of the pacific, hundreds of miles away from the nearest land, without captain, without crew, at the mercy of the wind and waves. it was a strange fatality that had brought the whale across their path; it was a fatality stranger still that had induced her captain, a man of no ordinary prudence, to risk even his life for the sake of making good a deficient cargo. it was an event almost unknown in the annals of whale-fishing that not a single man in the whale-boat should escape alive; nevertheless, it was all too true; and now, of all those left on board, dick sands, the apprentice-boy of fifteen years of age, was the sole individual who had the slightest knowledge of the management of a ship; the negroes, brave and willing as they were, were perfectly ignorant of seamen's duties; and, to crown all, here was a lady with her child on board, for whose safety the commander of the vessel would be held responsible. such were the facts which presented themselves to the mind of dick as, with folded arms, he stood gazing gloomily at the spot where captain hull, his esteemed benefactor, had sunk to rise no more. the lad raised his eyes sadly; he scanned the horizon with the vain hope that he might perchance descry some passing vessel to which he could confide mrs. weldon and her son; for himself, his mind was made up; he had already resolved that nothing should induce him to quit the "pilgrim" until he had exhausted every energy in trying to carry her into port. the ocean was all deserted. since the disappearance of the whale nothing had broken the monotonous surface either of sea or sky. the apprentice, short as his experience was, knew enough to be aware that he was far out of the common track alike of merchantmen or whalers; he would not buoy himself up with false expectations; he would look his situation full and fairly in the face; he would do his best, and trust hopefully in guidance from the power above. thus absorbed in his meditations he did not observe that he was not alone. negoro, who had gone below immediately after the catastrophe, had again come back upon deck. what this mysterious character had felt upon witnessing the awful calamity it would be impossible to say. although with his eye he had keenly taken in every detail of the melancholy spectacle, every muscle of, his face had remained unmoved; not a gesture, not a word betrayed the least emotion. even if he had heard, he had taken no part, nor evinced the faintest interest in mrs. weldon's outpouring of prayer. he had made his way to the stern, where dick sands was pondering over the responsibilities of his own position, and stood looking towards the apprentice without interrupting his reverie. catching sight of him, dick roused himself in an instant, and said,-- "you want to speak to me?" "i must speak either to the captain or the boatswain," answered the man. "negoro," said dick sharply, "you know as well as i do, that they are both drowned." "then where am i to get my orders from?" asked the fellow insolently. "from me," promptly rejoined the apprentice. "from you! from a boy of fifteen?" "yes, from me," repeated dick, in a firm and resolute voice, looking at the man until he recoiled under his gaze. "from _me_." mrs. weldon had heard what passed. "i wish every one on board to understand," she interposed, "that dick sands is captain now. orders must be taken from him, and they must be obeyed." negoro frowned, bit his lip, sneered, and having muttered something that was unintelligible, made his way back to his cabin. meantime, the schooner under the freshening breeze had been carried beyond the shoal of the crustaceans. dick cast his eye first at the sails, then along the deck, and seemed to become more and more alive to the weight of the obligation that had fallen upon him; but his heart did not fail him; he was conscious that the hopes of the passengers centred in himself, and he was determined to let them see that he would do his best not to disappoint them. although he was satisfied of his capability, with the help of the negroes, to manipulate the sails, he was conscious of a defect of the scientific knowledge which was requisite for properly controlling the ship's course. he felt the want of a few more years' experience. if only he had had longer practice he would, he thought, have been as able as captain hull himself, to use the sextant, to take the altitude of the stars, to read the time from his chronometer; sun, moon, and planets, should have been his guides; from the firmament, as from a dial-plate, he would have gathered the teachings of his true position; but all this was beyond him as yet; his knowledge went no further than the use of the log and compass, and by these alone he must be content to make his reckonings. but he kept up his courage, and did not permit himself for one moment to despair of ultimate success. mrs. weldon needed little penetration to recognize the thoughts which were passing in the mind of the resolute youth. "i see you have come to your decision, dick," she said. "the command of the ship is in your hands; no fear but that you will do your duty; and tom, and the rest of them, no doubt, will render you every assistance in their power." "yes, mrs. weldon," rejoined dick brightly; "and before long i shall hope to make them good seamen. if only the weather lasts fair, everything will go on well enough; and if the weather turns out bad, we must not despond; we will get safe ashore." he paused a moment and added reverently,-- "god helping us." mrs. weldon proceeded to inquire whether he had any means of ascertaining the "pilgrim's" present position. he replied that the ship's chart would at once settle that. captain hull had kept the reckoning accurately right up to the preceding day. "and what do you propose to do next?" she asked. "of course you understand that in our present circumstances we are not in the least bound to go to valparaiso if there is a nearer port which we could reach." "certainly not," replied dick; "and therefore it is my intention to sail due east, as by following that course we are sure to come upon some part of the american coast." [illustration: "oh, we shall soon be on shore!"] "do your best, dick, to let us get ashore somewhere." "never fear, madam," he answered; "as we get nearer land we shall be almost sure to fall in with a cruiser which will put us into the right track. if the wind does but remain in the north-west, and allow us to carry plenty of sail, we shall get on famously." he spoke with the cheery confidence of a good sailor who knows the good ship beneath his feet. he had moved off a few steps to go and take the helm, when mrs. weldon, calling him back, reminded him that he had not yet ascertained the true position of the schooner. dick confessed that it ought to be done at once, and going to the captain's cabin brought out the chart upon which the ill-fated commander had marked the bearings the evening before. according to this dead-reckoning they were in lat. ° ', s., and long. ° ', w.; and as the schooner had made next to no progress during the last twenty-four eventful hours, the entry might fairly be accepted as representing approximately their present position. to the lady's inexperienced eye, as she bent over the outspread chart, it seemed that the land, as represented by the brown patch which depicted the continent of south america extending like a barrier between two oceans from cape horn to columbia, was, after all, not so very far distant; the wide space of the pacific was not so broad but that it would be quickly traversed. "oh, we shall soon be on shore!" she said. but dick knew better. he had acquaintance enough with the scale upon which the chart was constructed to be aware that the "pilgrim" herself would have been a speck like a microscopic infusoria on the vast surface of that sea, and that hundreds and hundreds of weary miles separated her from the coast. no time was to be lost. contrary winds had ceased to blow; a fresh north-westerly breeze had sprung up, and the _cirri_, or curl-cloud: overhead indicated that for some time at least the direction of the wind would be unchanged. dick appealed to the negroes, and tried to make them appreciate the difficulty of the task that had fallen to his lot. tom answered, in behalf of himself and all the rest, that they were not only willing, but anxious, to do all they could to assist him, saying that if their knowledge was small, yet their arms were strong, and added that they should certainly be obedient to every order he gave. "my friends," said dick, addressing them in reply; "i shall make it a point of myself taking the helm as much as possible. but you know i must have my proper rest sometimes. no one can live without sleep. now, tom, i intend you to stand by me for the remainder of the day. i will try and make you understand how to steer by the aid of the compass. it is not difficult. you will soon learn. i shall have to leave you when i go to my hammock for an hour or two." "is there nothing," said little jack, "that i can learn to do?" "oh yes, jack; you shall keep the wind in order," answered dick, smiling. "that i will!" cried the child, clapping his hands, while the mother drew him to her side. "and now, my men," was dick's first order to his crew, "we must brace in the yards to sail fair. i will show you how." "all right, captain sands; we are at your service," said old tom gravely. [illustration: "oh yes, jack; you shall keep the wind in order."] chapter x. the new crew. dick sands, captain of the "pilgrim," would not lose a moment in getting his ship under sail. his prime object was to land his passengers safely at valparaiso or some other american port, and to accomplish his purpose it was in the first place necessary that he should ascertain the schooner's rate of speed and the direction that she was taking. this information was to be obtained readily enough by means of the log and compass, and the result of each day's observations would be entered regularly on the chart. the log on board was a patent log, with a dial-plate and screw, by means of which the distance that is travelled can be measured accurately for any definite time; it was an instrument so simple that the negroes were very soon taught its use. the slight error in the reckoning caused by the action of the currents could only be rectified by astronomical observations, which, as already has been stated, were beyond dick's attainments to make. the idea more than once crossed dick's mind whether he would not take the "pilgrim" back again to new zealand; the distance was considerably less than it was to america, and had the wind remained in the quarter whence it had been blowing so long, it is more than likely he would have determined to retrace his course. but as the wind had now veered to the north-west, and there was every probability that it was settled for a time, he came to the conclusion that he had better take advantage of it and persevere in making his way towards the east. accordingly he lost no time in putting his ship before the wind. on a schooner the fore-mast usually carries four square sails; on the lower mast a fore-sail; on the top-mast a top-sail; on the top-gallant a top-gallant-sail and a royal. the main-mast carries only a main-sail and a top-sail. between the masts upon the fore-stays can be hoisted a triple tier of triangular sails; while the bowsprit with its jib-boom will carry the three jibs. the jibs, the main-sail, the main-top-sail and the staysails are all managed with comparative ease, because they can be hoisted from the deck without the necessity of ascending the mast to let fly the robbins, by which they are fastened to the yards. with the sails on the fore-mast it is altogether a more difficult business. in order either to unfurl them, to take them in, or to reef them, it is necessary for a man to clamber up by the shrouds, either to the fore-top, or to the top-gallant cross-trees, and thence mounting by loose ropes, extended below the yards, to hold on by one hand whilst he does his work with the other. the operation requires alike the head and arm of an experienced mariner; and when a fresh breeze has been blowing, it is a casualty far from uncommon that a sailor, confused by the flapping of the canvas and the pitching of the vessel, should be blown overboard in the act. for the unpractised negroes the danger would necessarily be very great. however, the wind at present was very moderate, and the ship ploughed her way over the waves without any violent oscillations. at the time when dick sands, in obedience to the signal he received from captain hull, proceeded to make his way to the scene of the disaster, the "pilgrim," as she lay to, was carrying only her jibs, main-sail, fore-sail, and fore-top-sail. in order, therefore, to put her as near as possible to the wind, it had been merely necessary to counter-brace the fore-sail yard, a manoeuvre in which the negroes had rendered all the assistance that was necessary. it was requisite now to do something more. to enable him to get straight before the wind dick wanted to increase his sail, and was desirous of hoisting the top-gallant, the royal, the main-top-sail, and the stay-sails. he was himself standing at the wheel. "now, my men," he shouted to the negroes; "i want your help. do exactly as i tell you. bear away, tom!" tom looked puzzled. "bear away! unfasten that rope, i mean. and, bat, come along; do the same as tom." the men did what they were bidden. "that's right!" continued dick, and calling to hercules, said,-- "now, hercules; a good strong pull!" to give such a direction to hercules was somewhat imprudent; the rigging creaked again under his giant strength. "gently, gently, my good fellow!" said dick, laughing; "you will have the mast down." "i declare i hardly touched the rope," answered hercules. "well, next time, you must only pretend to touch it," said dick; and, continuing his orders, shouted, "now slacken! let fly! make fast! now brace in the yards! all right! that's capital!" the yards were loosened, the foresails turned slowly round, and, catching the breeze, gave a slight impetus to the ship. dick's next orders were for the jib-sheets to be set free, and then he called the men to the stern. "now," said he; "we must look to the main-mast; but take care, hercules, not to have it down." "i will be as careful as possible, mr. dick," submissively replied hercules, as though he were afraid to commit himself to any rash promise. the manoeuvre was simple enough. the main-sheet was gradually slackened, the great sail took the wind and added its powerful action to that of the fore-sails. the main-top-sail was next brought to bear; it was only clewed up, so that there was nothing to do except to pull the halyards, haul it aboard the tack, and unfurl it. but in pulling at the halyards the muscular energy of hercules, which was supplemented by that of actæon, not to forget little jack, who had volunteered his assistance, proved to be overpowering, and the rope snapped in two. all three of them, of course, fell flat upon the deck; but fortunately neither of them was hurt, and jack laughed heartily at his tumble as an excellent joke. "up with you!" cried captain dick; "there's no harm done; splice the rope, and haul away more gently next time." it took but a few minutes to execute the order, and the "pilgrim" was soon sailing away rapidly with her head to the east. "well done, my friends!" said dick, who had not left his post at the helm; "you will be first-rate sailors before the end of the voyage." "we shall do our best, i promise you, captain sands," replied tom, making it a point to give the young commander his proper title. mrs. weldon also congratulated the new crew upon the success of their first attempt. "i believe it was master jack who broke that rope," said hercules, with a sly twinkle in his eye; "he is very strong, i can tell you." jack looked as though he thoroughly appreciated the compliment, and evidenced his satisfaction by giving his huge friend a hearty shake of the hand. there were still several sails that were not yet set. running well before the wind as the "pilgrim" was, dick nevertheless felt that the gallant, royal, and stay-sails, if brought into service, would materially assist her progress, and he determined not to dispense with their help. the stay-sails could be hoisted from below, but to bring the gallant and royal into play demanded more experience than any of his crew had had. knowing that he could not entrust the task to them, and yet resolved not to be baulked of his wish to set them, he undertook the task himself. he first put tom to the helm, showing him how to keep the schooner's head in the right direction, and having placed the other four at the royal and top-gallant halyards, proceeded to mount the foremast. [illustration: all three of them fell flat upon the deck.] to clamber up the foreshrouds and the top-shrouds on to the cross-trees was mere child's play to the active apprentice. in a few minutes he had unfurled the top-gallant-sail, mounted to the royal-yard, unfurled the royal, again reached the cross-trees, and having caught hold of one of the starboard backstays, had descended to the deck; there he gave the necessary directions, and the two sails were made fast, and both yards braced. nor did this content him. the stay-sails were set between the masts, and thus the "pilgrim" was running along, crowded to the full, with all her canvas. the only additional sails which dick could possibly have employed would have been some studding-sails to larboard, but as the setting of these was a matter of some difficulty, and they were not always readily struck in the case of a sudden squall, he contented himself without them. again he took his place at the helm. the breeze was manifestly freshening, and the "pilgrim," almost imperceptibly heeling to starboard, glided rapidly along the surface of the water, leaving behind her a wake, smooth and clean, that bore plain witness to the true adjustment of her water-line. "this is good progress, mrs. weldon," he said; "may heaven grant the wind and weather may continue thus favourable!" the lady, in silence, shook the boy's hand; and then, worn-out with the excitement of the past hours, went to her cabin, where she lay down and fell into a troubled doze. the new crew remained on watch. they were stationed on the forecastle, in readiness to make any alteration which the sails might require, but the wind was so steady and unshifting that no need arose for their services. and cousin benedict? all this time, where was he? and what had he been doing? he was sitting in his cabin; he had a magnifying-glass in his hand and was studying an articulata of the order orthoptera, an insect of the blattidae family; its characteristics are a roundish body, rather long wings, flat elytra, and a head hidden by the prothorax. he had been on deck at the time of the calamity; the ill-fated captain with the crew had been drowned before his very eyes; but he said nothing; not that he was unmoved; to think that he was not struck with horror would be to libel his kind and pitying nature. his sympathy was aroused, especially for his cousin; he pressed her hand warmly as if he would assure her of his truest commiseration; but he said nothing; he hurried off towards his cabin; and who shall deny that it was to devise some wonderfully energetic measures that he would take in consequence of this melancholy event? passing the kitchen, however, he caught sight of negoro in the act of crushing a blatta, an american species of cockroach. he broke out into a storm of invective, and in tones of indignation demanded the surrender of the insect, which negoro made with cool contempt. in a moment captain hull and his partners in death were all forgotten; the enthusiast had secured a prize with which he hastened to his own little compartment, where he was soon absorbed in proving to his own satisfaction, in opposition to the opinion of other entomologists, that the blattae of the phoraspous species, which are remarkable for their colours, differ in their habits from blattae of the ordinary sort. for the remainder of the day perfect order reigned on board the "pilgrim." though they were unable to shake off the sickening feeling of horror roused by the frightful disaster, and felt that they had sustained a startling shock, all the passengers seemed mechanically to fall into their usual routine. dick sands, though avowedly at the wheel, seemed to be everywhere, with an eye for every thing, and his amateur crew obeyed him readily, and with the promptness of a willing activity. negoro made no further overt attempt to question the young captain's authority, but remained shut up in his kitchen. dick made no secret of his determination to place the cook in close confinement if he exhibited any future sign of insubordination. hercules was ready to carry him off bodily to the hold, and old nan was equally ready to take his place in the cooking department. probably negoro was aware of all this; at any rate he did not seem disposed to give any further cause of offence at present. [illustration: jack evidenced his satisfaction by giving his huge friend a hearty shake of the hand.] as the day advanced the wind continued to freshen; but no shifting of the sails seemed necessary. the "pilgrim" was running well. there was no need to diminish her spread of canvas. masts as solid and rigging as strong as hers could stand a far heavier breeze. as a general rule, it is deemed prudent in case of a squall to shorten sail at night, and especially to take in gallants and royal; but the weather prospects now were all so promising and satisfactory that dick persuaded himself he was under no necessity to take this precaution; he rather felt himself bound to take the strongest measures he could to expedite his reaching less unfrequented waters. he made up his mind, however, not to leave the deck at all that night. the young captain made every effort to get an approximate reckoning of the schooner's progress. he heaved the log every half-hour and duly registered the result of each successive examination. there were two compasses on board; one in the binnacle, close under the eye of the helmsman, the other, an inverted compass, being attached to the rafters of the captain's cabin, so that without leaving his berth he could see whether the man in charge of the wheel was holding a proper course. every vessel that is duly furnished for a lengthened voyage has always not only two compasses but two chronometers, one to correct the other. the "pilgrim" was not deficient in this respect, and dick sands made a strong point of admonishing his crew that they should take especial care of the compasses, which under their present circumstances were of such supreme importance. a misfortune, however, was in store for them. on the night of the th, while dick was on watch, the compass in the cabin became detached from its fastening and fell on the floor. the accident was not discovered until the following morning. whether the metal ferule that had attached the instrument to the rafters had become rusty, or whether it had been worn away by additional friction it seemed impossible to settle. all that could be said was that the compass was broken beyond repair. dick was extremely grieved at the loss; but he did not consider that any one was to be blamed for the mishap, and could only resolve for the future to take extra care of the compass in the binnacle. with the exception of this _contretemps_, everything appeared to go on satisfactorily on board. mrs. weldon, reassured by dick's confidence, had regained much of her wonted calmness, and was besides ever supported by a sincere religious spirit. she and dick had many a long conversation together. the ingenuous lad was always ready to take the kind and intelligent lady into his counsel, and day by day would point out to her on the chart the registers he made as the result of his dead reckoning; he would then try and satisfy her that under the prevailing wind there could be no doubt they must arrive at the coast of south america: moreover, he said that, unless he was much mistaken, they should sight the land at no great distance from valparaiso. mrs. weldon had, in truth, no reason to question the correctness of dick's representations; she owned that provided the wind remained in the same favourable quarter, there was every prospect of their reaching land in safety; nevertheless at times she could not resist the misgiving that would arise when she contemplated what might be the result of a change of wind or a breaking of the weather. with the light-heartedness that belonged to his age, jack soon fell back into his accustomed pursuits, and was to be seen merrily running over the deck or romping with dingo. at times, it is true, he missed the companionship of dick; but his mother made him comprehend that now that dick, was captain, his time was too much occupied to allow him; any leisure for play, and the child quite understood that he must not interrupt his old friend in his new duties. [illustration: a light shadow glided stealthily along the deck.] the negroes performed their work with intelligence, and seemed to make rapid progress in the art of seamanship. tom had been unanimously appointed boatswain, and took one watch with bat and austin, the alternate watch being discharged by dick himself with hercules and actæon. one of them steered so that the other two were free to watch at the bows. as a general rule dick sands managed to remain at the wheel all night; five or six hours' sleep in the daytime sufficed for him, and during the time when he was lying down he entrusted the wheel to tom or bat, who under his instructions had become very fair helmsmen. although in these unfrequented waters there was little chance of running foul of any other vessel, dick invariably took the precaution of lighting his signals, carrying a green light to starboard and a red light to port. his exertions, however, were a great strain upon him, and sometimes during the night his fatigue would induce a heavy drowsiness, and he steered, as it were, by instinct more than by attention. on the night of the th, he was so utterly worn-out that he was obliged to ask tom to relieve him at the helm whilst he went down for a few hours' rest. actæon and hercules remained on watch on the forecastle. the night was very dark; the sky was covered with heavy clouds that had formed in the chill evening air, and the sails on the top-masts were lost in the obscurity. at the stern, the lamps on either side of the binnacle cast a faint reflection on the metal mountings of the wheel, leaving the deck generally in complete darkness. towards three o'clock in the morning tom was getting so heavy with sleepiness that he was almost unconscious. his eye, long fixed steadily on the compass, lost its power of vision, and he fell into a doze from which it would require more than a slight disturbance to arouse him. meantime a light shadow glided stealthily along the deck. creeping gradually up to the binnacle, negoro put down something heavy that he had brought in his hand. he stole a keen and rapid glance at the dial of the compass, and made his way back, unseen and unheard as he had come. almost immediately afterwards, tom awakened from his slumber. his eye fell instinctively on the compass, and he saw in a moment that the ship was out of her proper course. by a turn of the helm he brought her head to what he supposed to be the east. but he was mistaken. during his brief interval of unconsciousness a piece of iron had been deposited beneath the magnetic needle, which by this means had been diverted thirty degrees to the right, and, instead of pointing due north, inclined far towards north-east. consequently it came to pass that the "pilgrim," supposed by her young commander to be making good headway due east, was in reality, under the brisk north-west breeze, speeding along towards the south-east. chapter xi. rough weather. during the ensuing week nothing particular occurred on board. the breeze still freshened, and the "pilgrim" made on the average miles every twenty-four hours. the speed was as great as could be expected from a craft of her size. dick grew more and more sanguine in his anticipations that it could not be long before the schooner would cross the track of the mail-packets plying between the eastern and western hemispheres. he had made up his mind to hail the first passing vessel, and either to transfer his passengers, or what perhaps would be better still, to borrow a few sailors, and, it might be, an officer to work the "pilgrim" to shore. he could not help, however, a growing sense of astonishment, when day after day passed, and yet there was no ship to be signalled. he kept the most vigourous look-out, but all to no purpose. three voyages before had he made to the whale-fisheries, and his experience made him sure that he ought now to be sighting some english or american vessel on its way between the equator and cape horn. very different, however, was the true position of the "pilgrim" from what dick supposed; not only had the ship been carried far out of her direct course by currents, the force of which there were no means of estimating, but from the moment when the compass had been tampered with by negoro, the steering itself had put the vessel all astray. unconscious of both these elements of disturbance, dick sands was convinced that they were proceeding steadily eastwards, and was perpetually encouraging mrs. weldon and himself by the assurance that they must very soon arrive within view of the american coast; again and again asserting that his sole concern was for his passengers, and that for his own safety he had no anxiety. "but think, dick," said the lady, "what a position you would have been in, if you had not had your passengers. you would have been alone with that terrible negoro; you would have been rather alarmed then." "i should have taken good care to put it out of negoro's power to do me any mischief, and then i should have worked the ship by myself," answered the lad stoutly. his very pluck gave mrs. weldon renewed confidence. she was a woman with wonderful powers of endurance, and it was only when she thought of her little son that she had any feeling of despair; yet even this she endeavoured to conceal, and dick's undaunted courage helped her. although the youth of the apprentice did not allow him to pretend to any advanced scientific knowledge, he had the proverbial "weather-eye" of the sailor. he was not only very keen in noticing any change in the aspect of the sky, but he had learnt from captain hull, who was a clever meteorologist, to draw correct conclusions from the indications of the barometer; the captain, indeed, having taken the trouble to make him learn by heart the general rules which are laid down in vorepierre's _dictionnaire illustré_. there are seven of these rules:-- . if after a long period of fine weather the barometer falls suddenly and continuously, although the mercury may be descending for two or three days before there is an apparent change in the atmosphere, there will ultimately be rain; and the longer has been the time between the first depression and the commencement of the rain, the longer the rain may be expected to last. . _vice versâ_, if after a long period of wet weather the barometer begins to rise slowly and steadily, fine weather will ensue; and the longer the time between the first rising of the mercury and the commencement of the fine weather, the longer the fine weather may be expected to last. . if immediately after the fall or rise of the mercury a change of weather ensues, the change will be of no long continuance.[ ] . a gradual rise for two or three days during rain forecasts fine weather; but if there be a fall immediately on the arrival of the fine weather, it will not be for long. this rule holds also conversely. . in spring and autumn a sudden fall indicates rain; in the summer, if very hot, it foretells a storm. in the winter, after a period of steady frost, a fall prognosticates a change of wind with rain and hail; whilst a rise announces the approach of snow. . rapid oscillations of the mercury either way are not to be interpreted as indicating either wet or dry weather of any duration; continuance of either fair or foul weather is forecast only by a prolonged and steady rise or fall beforehand. . at the end of autumn, after a period of wind and rain, a rise may be expected to be followed by north wind and frost. not merely had dick got these rules by rote, but he had tested them by his own observations, and had become singularly trustworthy in his forecasts of the weather. he made a point of consulting the barometer several times every day, and although to all appearances the sky indicated that the fine weather was settled, it did not escape his observation that on the th the mercury showed a tendency to fall. dick knew that rain, if it came, would be accompanied by wind; an opinion in which he was very soon confirmed by the breeze freshening, till the air was displaced at the rate of nearly sixty feet a second, or more[ ] than forty miles an hour; and he recognized the necessity of at once shortening sail. he had already used the precaution to take in the royal, the main-top-sail, and the flying jib, but he now at once resolved likewise to take in the top-gallant, and to have a couple of reefs in the foretop-sail. [footnote : this and several of the other rules are concisely concentrated in the couplet-- long foretold, long last; short notice, soon past.] to an inexperienced crew, the last operation was far from easy; but there was no symptom of shrinking from it. followed by bat and austin, dick mounted the rigging of the foremast, and with little trouble got to the top-gallant. had the weather been less unpromising he would have been inclined to leave the two yards as they were, but anticipating the ultimate necessity of being obliged to lower the mast, he unrigged them, and let them down to the deck; he knew well enough that in the event of the gale rising as he expected, the lowering of the mast as well as the shortening of sail would contribute to diminish the strain and stress upon the vessel. it was the work of two hours to get this preliminary operation over. there still remained the task of taking in the reefs in the top-sail. the "pilgrim" in one respect differed from most modern vessels. she did not carry a double foretop, which would very much have diminished the difficulty attending the reefing. it was consequently necessary to proceed as before; to mount the rigging, by main force to haul in the flapping canvas, and to make the fastening secure. but critical and dangerous as the task was, it was successfully accomplished, and the three young men, having descended safely to the deck, had the satisfaction of seeing the schooner run easily before the wind, which had further increased till it was blowing a stiff gale. for three days the gale continued brisk and hard, yet without any variation in its direction. but all along the barometer was falling; the mercury sank to ° without symptom of recovery. the sky was becoming overcast; clouds, thick and lowering, obscured the sun, and it was difficult to make out where it rose or where it set. dick did his best to keep up his courage, but he could not disguise from himself that there was cause for uneasiness. he took no more rest than was absolutely necessary, and what repose he allowed himself he always took on deck; he maintained a calm exterior, but he was really tortured with anxiety. [illustration: for half an hour negoro stood motionless.] although the violence of the wind seemed to lull awhile, dick did not suffer himself to be betrayed into any false security; he knew only too well what to expect, and after a brief interval of comparative quiet, the gale returned and the waves began to run very high. about four o'clock one afternoon, negoro (a most unusual thing for him) emerged from his kitchen, and skulked to the fore. dingo was fast asleep, and did not make his ordinary growl by way of greeting to his enemy. for half an hour negoro stood motionless, apparently surveying the horizon. the heavy waves rolled past; they were higher than the condition of the wind warranted; their magnitude witnessed to a storm passing in the west, and there was every reason to suspect that the "pilgrim" might be caught by its violence. negoro looked long at the water; he then raised his eyes and scanned the sky. above and below he might have read threatening signs. the upper stratum of cloud was travelling far more rapidly than that beneath, an indication that ere long the masses of vapour would descend, and, coming in contact with the inferior current, would change the gale into a tempest, which probably would increase to a hurricane. it might be from ignorance or it might be from indifference, but there was no indication of alarm on the face of negoro; on the other hand there might be seen a sort of smile curling on his lip. after thus gazing above him and around him, he clambered on to the bowsprit, and made his way by degrees to the very gammonings; again he rested and looked about him as if to explore the horizon; after a while he clambered back on deck, and soon stealthily retreated to his own quarters. no doubt there was much to cause concern in the general aspect of the weather; but there was one point on which they never failed to congratulate each other;--that the direction of the wind had never changed, and consequently must be carrying them in the desired course. unless a storm should overtake them, they could continue their present navigation without peril, and with every prospect of finding a port upon the shore where they might put in. such were their mutual and acknowledged hopes; but dick secretly felt the misgiving lest, without a pilot, he might in his ignorance fail to find a harbour of refuge. nevertheless, he would not suffer himself to meet trouble half-way, and kept up his spirits under the conviction that if difficulties came he should be strengthened to grapple with them or make his escape. time passed on, and the th of march arrived without material change in the condition of the atmosphere. the sky remained heavily burdened, and the wind, which occasionally had abated for a few hours, had always returned with at least its former violence. the occasional rising of the mercury never encouraged dick to anticipate a permanent improvement in the weather, and he discerned only too plainly that brighter times at present were not to be looked for. a startling alarm had more than once been caused by the sudden breaking of storms in which thunderbolts had seemed to fall within a few cables' lengths of the schooner. on these occasions the torrents of rain had been so heavy that the ship had appeared to be in the very midst of a whirlpool of vapour, and it was impossible to see a yard ahead. the "pilgrim" pitched and rolled frightfully. fortunately mrs. weldon could bear the motion without much personal inconvenience, and consequently was able to devote her attention to her little boy, who was a miserable sufferer. cousin benedict was as undisturbed as the cockroaches he was investigating; he hardly noticed the increasing madness of either wind or wave, but went on with his studies as calmly as if he were in his own comfortable museum at san francisco. moreover, it was fortunate that the negroes did not suffer to any great degree from sea-sickness, and consequently were able to assist their captain in his arduous task, dick was far too experienced a sailor himself to be inconvenienced by any oscillations of the vessel, however violent. the "pilgrim" still made good headway, and dick, although he was aware that ultimately it would probably be necessary again to shorten sail, was anxious to postpone making any alteration before he was absolutely obliged. surely, he reasoned with himself, the land could not now be far away; he had calculated his speed; he had kept a diligent reckoning on the chart; surely, the shore must be almost in sight. he would not trust his crew to keep watch; he was aware how easily their inexperienced eyes would be misled, and how they might mistake a distant cloud-bank for the land they coveted to see; he kept watch for himself; his own gaze was ever fixed upon the horizon; and in the eagerness of his expectation he would repeatedly mount to the cross-trees to get a wider range of vision. but land was not to be seen. next day as dick was standing at the bow, alternately considering the canvas which his ship carried and the aspect presented by the sky, mrs. weldon approached him without his noticing her. she caught some muttered expressions of bewilderment that fell from his lips, and asked him whether he could see anything. he lowered the telescope which he had been holding in his hand, and answered,-- "no, mrs. weldon, i cannot see anything; and it is this hiat perplexes me so sorely. i cannot understand why we have not already come in sight of land. it is nearly a month since we lost our poor dear captain. there has been no delay in our progress; no stoppage in our rate of speed. i cannot make it out." "how far were we from land when we lost the captain?" "i am sure i am not far out in saying that we were scarcely more than miles from the shores of america." "and at what rate have we been sailing?" "not much less than nine score knots a day." "how long, then, do you reckon, dick, we ought to be in arriving at the coast?" "under six-and-twenty days," replied dick. he paused before he spoke again, then added,-- "but what mystifies me even more than our failing to sight the land is this: we have not come across a single vessel; and yet vessels without number are always traversing these seas." "but do you not think," inquired mrs. weldon, "that you have made some error in your reckoning? is your speed really what you have supposed?" "impossible, madam," replied dick, with an air of dignity, "impossible that i should have fallen into error. the log has been consulted, without fail, every half-hour. i am about to have it lowered now, and i will undertake to show you that we are at this present moment making ten miles an hour, which would give considerably over miles a day." he then called out to tom,-- "tom, lower the log!" the old man was quite accustomed to the duty. the log was fastened to the line and thrown overboard. it ran out regularly for about five-and-twenty fathoms, when all at once the line slackened in tom's hand. "it is broken!" cried tom; "the cord is broken!" "broken?" exclaimed dick: "good heavens! we have lost the log!" it was too true. the log was gone. tom drew in the rope. dick took it up and examined it. it had not broken at its point of union with the log; it had given way in the middle, at a place where the strands in some unaccountable way had worn strangely thin. dick's agony of mind, in spite of his effort to be calm, was intensely great. a suspicion of foul play involuntarily occurred to him. he knew that the rope had been of first-rate make; he knew that it had been quite sound when used before; but he could prove nothing; he could only mourn over the loss which committed him to the sole remaining compass as his only guide. that compass, too, although he knew it not, was misleading him entirely! mrs. weldon sighed as she witnessed the grief which the loss manifestly caused poor dick, but in purest sympathy she said nothing, and retired thoughtfully to her cabin. it was no longer possible to reckon the rate of progress, but there was no doubt that the "pilgrim" continued to maintain at least her previous speed. before another four-and-twenty hours had passed the barometer had fallen still lower, and the wind was threatening to rise to a velocity of sixty miles. resolved to be on the safe side, dick determined not only to strike the top-gallant and the main-top-mast, but to take in all the lower sails. indeed, he began to be aware that no time was to be lost. the operation would not be done in a moment, and the storm was approaching. dick made tom take the helm; he ascended the shrouds with bat, austin, and actæon, making hercules stay on deck to slacken the halyards as required. by dint of arduous exertion, and at no little risk of being thrown overboard by the rolling of the ship, they succeeded in lowering the two masts; the fore-top-sail was then reefed, and the fore-sail entirely struck, so that the only canvas that the schooner carried was the reefed fore-top and the one stay. these, however, made her run with a terrific speed. early on the morning of the th, dick noted with alarm that the barometer had not ceased to fall, and now registered only . °. the tempest had continued to increase, till it was unsafe for the ship to carry any canvas at all. the order was given for the top-sail to be taken in, but it was too late; a violent gust carried the sail completely away, and austin, who had made his way to the fore-top-yard, was struck by the flying sheet; and although he was not seriously hurt, he was obliged at once to return to deck. dick sands became more uneasy than ever; he was tortured by apprehensions of reefs outlying the shore, to which he imagined he must now be close; but he could discern no rocks to justify his fears, and returned to take his place at the helm. the next moment negoro appeared on deck; he pointed mysteriously to the far-off horizon, as though he discerned some object, as a mountain, there; and looking round with a malevolent smile, immediately left the deck, and went back to his cabin. [illustration: under bare poles] chapter xii. hope revived. the wind had now increased to a hurricane; it had veered to the south-west, and had attained a velocity little short of ninety miles an hour. on land, the most substantial of erections could with difficulty have withstood its violence, and a vessel anchored in a roadstead must have been torn from its moorings and cast ashore. the memorable storm that had devastated the island of guadaloupe on the th of july, , when heavy cannon were lifted from their carriages, could scarcely have been more furious, and it was only her mobility before the blast and the solidity of her structure that gave the "pilgrim" a hope of surviving the tempest. a few minutes after the topsail had been lost, the small jib was carried away. dick sands contemplated the possibility of throwing out a storm-jib, made of extra strong canvas, as a means of bringing the ship a little more under his control, but abandoned the idea as useless. it was, therefore, under bare poles that the "pilgrim" was driven along; but in spite of the lack of canvas, the hull, masts, and rigging, gave sufficient purchase to the wind, and the progress of the schooner was prodigiously rapid; sometimes, indeed, she seemed to be literally lifted from the water, and scudded on, scarcely skimming its surface. the rolling was fearful. enormous waves followed in quick succession, and as they travelled faster than the ship, there was the perpetual risk of one of them catching her astern. without sail, there were no means of escaping that peril by increase of speed; the adroit management of the helm was the only chance of avoiding the hazardous shocks, and even this repeatedly failed. to prevent his being washed overboard dick lashed himself to his place at the wheel by a rope round his waist, and made tom and bat keep close at hand, ready to give him assistance, in case of emergency. hercules and actæon, clinging to the bitt, kept watch at the bow. mrs. weldon and her party, at dick's special request, remained inside the stern cabin, although the lady, for her own part, would much rather have stayed on deck; she had, however, yielded to the representation that she would thus be exposing herself to unnecessary danger. the hatchways were hermetically closed, and it was to be hoped that they would withstand the heavy sea that was dashing over them; only let one of them give way to the pressure, and the vessel must inevitably fill and founder. it was a matter of congratulation that the stowage had been done very carefully, so that notwithstanding all the lurchings of the ship, the cargo did not shift in the least. the heroic young commander had still further curtailed his periods of rest, and it was only at the urgent entreaty of mrs. weldon, who feared that he would exhaust himself by his vigilance, that he was induced to lie down for a few hours' sleep on the night of the th. after tom and bat had been left alone at the wheel they were, somewhat to their surprise, joined by negoro, who very rarely came aft. he seemed inclined to enter into conversation, but found little encouragement to talk on the part either of tom or his son. all at once a violent roll of the ship threw him off his feet, and he would have gone overboard if he had not been saved by falling against the binnacle. old tom was in a frantic state of alarm lest the compass should be broken. he uttered a cry of consternation so loud that it roused dick from the light slumber into which he had fallen in the cabin, and he rushed to the deck. by the time he had reached the stern, negoro had not only regained his feet, but had managed successfully to conceal the bit of iron which he had again extracted from beneath the binnacle where he had himself laid it. now that the wind had shifted to the south-west, it suited his machinations that the magnetic needle should indicate its true direction. [illustration: quick as lightning, dick sands drew a revolver from his pocket.] "how now?" asked dick eagerly; "what is the meaning of all this noise?" tom explained how the cook had fallen against the binnacle, and how he had been terrified lest the compass should be injured. dick's heart sank at the thought of losing his sole remaining compass, and his anxiety betrayed itself in his countenance as he knelt down to examine its condition; but he breathed freely as he ascertained that the instrument had sustained no damage; by the dim light he saw the needle resting on its two concentric circles, and felt his fears at once relieved; of course, he was quite unconscious of the fact that the removal of the bit of iron had made the magnet change its pointing. the incident, however, excited his misgiving; although he felt that negoro could not be held responsible for an accidental fall, the very presence of the man in such a place at such a time perplexed him. "and what brings you here, this hour of the night?" he asked. "that's not your business," retorted negoro insolently. "it is my business," replied dick resolutely; "and i mean to have an answer; what brought you here?" negoro answered sullenly that he knew of no rule to prevent his going where he liked and when he liked. "no rule!" cried dick; "then i make the rule now. from this time forward, i make the rule that you shall never come astern. do you understand?" roused from his accustomed doggedness, the man seemed to make a threatening movement. quick as lightning, dick sands drew a revolver from his pocket. "negoro, one act, one word of insubordination, and i blow out your brains!" negoro had no time to reply; before he could speak he was bowed down towards the deck by an irresistible weight. hercules had grasped him by the shoulder. "shall i put him overboard, captain? he will make a meal for the fishes; they are not very particular what they eat," said the negro, with a grin of contempt. "not yet," quietly answered dick. the giant removed his hand, and negoro stood upright again, and began to retreat to his own quarters, muttering, however, as he passed hercules,-- "you cursed nigger! you shall pay for this!" the discovery was now made that the wind apparently had taken a sudden shift of no less than forty-five degrees; but what occasioned dick the greatest perplexity was that there was nothing in the condition of the sea to correspond with the alteration in the current of the air; instead of being directly astern, wind and waves were now beating on the larboard. progress in this way must necessarily be full of danger, and dick was obliged to bring his ship up at least four points before he got her straight before the tempest. the young captain felt that he must be more than ever on the alert; he could not shake off the suspicion that negoro had been concerned in the loss of the first compass, and had some further designs upon the second. still he was utterly at a loss to imagine what possible motive the man could have for so criminal an act of malevolence, as there was no plausible reason to be assigned why he should not be as anxious as all the rest to reach the coast of america. the suspicion continued, however, to haunt him, and when he mentioned it to mrs. weldon he found that a similar feeling of distrust had agitated her, although she, like himself, was altogether unable to allege a likely motive why the cook should contemplate so strange an act of mischief. it was determined that a strict surveillance should be kept upon all the fellow's movements. negoro, however, manifested no inclination to disobey the captain's peremptory order; he kept strictly to his own part of the ship; but as dingo was now regularly quartered on the stern, there was a tolerably sure guarantee that the cook would not be found wandering much in that direction. a week passed, and still the tempest showed no signs of abating; the barometer continued to fall, and not once did a period of calmer weather afford an opportunity of carrying sail. the "pilgrim" still made her way northeast. her speed could not be less than two hundred miles in twenty-four hours. but no land appeared. vast as was the range of the american continent, extending for degrees between the atlantic and the pacific, it was nowhere to be discerned. was he dreaming? was he mad? dick would perpetually ask himself: had he been sailing in a wrong direction? had he failed to steer aright? but no: he was convinced there was no error in his steering. although he could not actually see it for the mist, he knew that day after day the sun rose before him, and that it set behind him. yet he was constrained in bewilderment to ask, what had become of those shores of america upon which, when they came in sight, there was only too great a fear the ship should be dashed? what had become of them? where were they? whither had this incessant hurricane driven them? why did not the expected coast appear? to all these bewildering inquiries dick could find no answer except to imagine that his compass had misled him. yet he was powerless to put his own misgivings to the test; he deplored more than ever the destruction of the duplicate instrument which would have checked his registers. he studied his chart; but all in vain; the position in which he found himself as the result of negoro's treachery, seemed to baffle him the more, the more he tried to solve the mystery. the days were passing on in this chronic state of anxiety, when one morning about eight o'clock, hercules, who was on watch at the fore, suddenly shouted,-- "land!" dick sands had little reliance upon the negro's inexperienced eye, but hurried forward to the bow. "where's the land?" he cried; his voice being scarcely audible above the howling of the tempest. "there! look there!" said hercules, nodding his head and pointing over the larboard side, to the north-east. dick could see nothing. mrs. weldon had heard the shout. unable to restrain her interest, she had left her cabin and was at dick's side. he uttered an expression of surprise at seeing her, but could not hear anything she said, as her voice was unable to rise above the roaring of the elements; she stood, her whole being as it were concentrated in the power of vision, and scanned the horizon in the direction indicated by hercules. but all to no purpose. suddenly, however, after a while, dick raised his hand. "yes!" he said; "yes; sure enough, yonder is land." he clung with excitement to the netting; and mrs weldon, supported by hercules, strained her eyes yet more vehemently to get a glimpse of a shore which she had begun to despair of ever reaching. beyond a doubt an elevated peak was there. it must be about ten miles to leeward. a break in the clouds soon left it more distinct. some promontory it must be upon the american coast. without sails, of course, the "pilgrim" had no chance of bearing down direct upon it; but at least there was every reason to believe that she would soon reach some other portion of the shore; perhaps before noon, certainly in a few hours, they must be close to land. the pitching of the ship made it impossible for mrs. weldon to keep safe footing on the deck; accordingly, at a sign from dick, hercules led her back again to her cabin. dick did not remain long at the bow, but went thoughtfully back to the wheel. he had, indeed, a tremendous responsibility before him. here was the land, the land for which they had longed so eagerly; and now that their anticipations were on the point of being realized, what was there, with a hurricane driving them on towards it, to prevent that land being their destruction? what measures could he take to prevent the schooner being dashed to pieces against it? [illustration: "there! look there!"] at the very moment when the promontory was just abreast of them, negoro appeared on deck; he nodded to the peak familiarly, as he might have saluted a familiar friend, and retired as stealthily as he had come. two hours later, and the promontory was lying to the larboard wake. dick sands had never relaxed his watchfulness, but he had failed to discover any further indications of a coast-line. his perplexity could only increase; the horizon was clear; the andes ought to be distinct; they would be conspicuous twenty miles or more away. dick took up his telescope again and again; he scrutinized the eastern horizon with minutest care; but there was nothing to be seen; and as the afternoon waned away the last glimpse had been taken of the promontory that had awakened their expectation; it had vanished utterly from their gaze; no indication of shore could be seen from the "pilgrim's" deck. dick sands uttered a sigh of mingled amazement and relief. he went into mrs. weldon's cabin, where she was standing with her party. "it was only an island!" he said; "only an island!" "how? why? what island? what do you mean?" cried mrs. weldon incredulously; "what island can it be?" "the chart perhaps will tell us," replied dick; and hurrying off to his own cabin, he immediately returned with the chart in his hands. after studying it attentively for a few minutes, he said,-- "there, mrs. weldon; the land we have just passed, i should suppose must be that little speck in the midst of the pacific. it must be easter island. at least, there seems to be no other land which possibly it could be." "and do you say," inquired mrs. weldon, "that we have left it quite behind us?" "yes, entirely; almost to windward." mrs. weldon commenced a searching scrutiny of the map that was outspread before her. "how far is this," she said, after bending a considerable time over the chart; "how far is this from the coast of america?" "thirty-five degrees," answered dick; "somewhere about miles." "what ever do you mean?" rejoined the lady astonished; "if the 'pilgrim' is still miles from shore, she has positively made no progress at all. impossible!" in thoughtful perplexity, dick passed his hand across his brow. he did not know what to say. after an interval of silence, he said,-- "i have no account to give for the strange delay. it is inexplicable to myself, except upon that one hypothesis, which i cannot resist, that the readings of the compass, somehow or other, have been wrong." he relapsed into silence. then, brightening up, he added,-- "but, thank god! at least we have now the satisfaction of knowing where we really are; we are no longer lost upon the wide pacific; if only this hurricane will cease, long as the distance seems, we are on our proper course to the shores of america." the tone of confidence with which the youthful captain spoke had the effect of inspiring new hope into all who heard him; their spirits rose, and to their sanguine mood it seemed as if they were approaching to the end of all their troubles, and had hardly more to do than to await the turning of a tide to bring them into a glad proximity to port. easter island, of which the true name is vai-hoo, was discovered by david in and visited by cook and lapérouse. it lies in lat. ° s., and long. e.; consequently, it was evident that during the raging of the hurricane the schooner had been driven northwards no less than fifteen degrees. far away, however, as she was from shore, the wind could hardly fail within ten days to carry her within sight of land; and then, if the storm had worn itself out, (as probably it would,) the "pilgrim" would again hoist sail, and make her way into some port with safety. anyhow, the discovery of his true position restored a spirit of confidence to dick sands, and he anticipated the time when he should no longer be drifting helplessly before the storm. to say the truth, the "pilgrim" had suffered very little from the prolonged fury of the weather. the damage she had sustained was limited to the loss of the topsail and the small jib, which could be easily replaced. the caulking of the seams remained thoroughly sound, and no drop of water had found its way into the hold. the pumps, too, were perfectly free. dick sands did not fear for the stability of his ship; his only anxiety was lest the weather should not moderate in time. only let the wind subside, and the schooner once more would be under his control; but he never forgot that the ordering of the winds and waves were in the hands of the great disposer of all. chapter xiii. land at last. it was not long before dick's sanguine expectations were partially realized, for on the very next day, which was the th, the barometer began to rise, not rapidly, but steadily, indicating that its elevation would probably continue. the sea remained exceedingly rough, but the violence of the wind, which had veered slightly towards the west, had perceptibly diminished. the tempest had passed its greatest fury, and was beginning to wear itself out. not a sail, however, could yet be hoisted; the smallest show of canvas would have been carried away in an instant; nevertheless dick hoped that before another twenty-four hours were over, the "pilgrim" might be able to carry a storm-jib. in the course of the night the wind moderated still more and the pitching of the ship had so far diminished that the passengers began to reappear on deck. mrs. weldon was the first to leave her enforced imprisonment. she was anxious to speak to dick, whom she might have expected to find looking pale and wan after his almost superhuman exertions and loss of sleep. but she was mistaken; however much the lad might suffer from the strain in after-years, at present he exhibited no symptoms of failing energy. "well, captain dick, how are you?" she said, as she advanced towards him holding out her hand. dick smiled. "you call me captain, mrs. weldon," he answered, "but you do not seem disposed to submit implicitly to captain's orders. did i not direct you to keep to your cabin?" [illustration: "you have acquitted yourself like a man."] "you did," replied the lady; "but observing how much the storm had abated, i could not resist the temptation to disobey you." "yes, madam, the weather is far more promising; the barometer has not fallen since yesterday morning, and i really trust the worst is over now." "thank heaven!" she replied, and after a few moments' silence, she added.-- "but now, dick, you must really take some rest; you may perhaps not know how much you require it; but it is absolutely necessary." "rest!" the boy repeated; "rest! i want no rest. i have only done my duty, and it will be time enough for me to concern myself about my own rest, when i have seen my passengers in a place of safety." "you have acquitted yourself like a man," said mrs. weldon; "and you may be assured that my husband, like myself, will never forget the services you have rendered me. i shall urge upon him the request which i am sure he will not refuse, that you shall have your studies completed, so that you may be made a captain for the firm." tears of gratitude rose to dick's eyes. he deprecated the praise that was lavished upon him, but rejoiced in the prospect that seemed opening upon his future. mrs. weldon assured him that he was dear as a son to her, and pressed a gentle kiss upon his forehead. the lad felt that he was animated, if need be, to yet greater hardships in behalf of his benefactors, and resolved to prove himself even more worthy of their confidence. by the th, the wind had so far moderated that dick thought he might increase the "pilgrim's" speed by hoisting the foresail and topsail. "now, my men, i have some work for you to-day," he said to the negroes when he came on deck at daybreak. "all right, captain," answered hercules, "we are growing rusty for want of something to do." "why didn't you blow with your big mouth?" said little jack; "you could have beaten the wind all to nothing." dick laughed, and said, "not a bad idea, jack; if ever we get becalmed, we must get hercules to blow into the sails." "i shall be most happy," retorted the giant, and he inflated his huge checks till he was the very impersonation of boreas himself. "but now to work!" cried dick; "we have lost our topsail, and we must contrive to hoist another. not an easy matter, i can tell you." "i dare say we shall manage it," replied actæon. "we must do our best," said tom. "can't i help?" inquired jack. "of course you can," answered dick; "run along to the wheel, and assist bat." jack strutted off, proud enough of his commission. under dick's directions, the negroes commenced their somewhat difficult task. the new topsail, rolled up, had first of all to be hoisted, and then to be made fast to the yard; but so adroitly did the crew carry out their orders, that in less than an hour the sail was properly set and flying with a couple of reefs. the foresail and second jib, which had been taken down before the tempest, were hoisted again, and before ten o'clock the "pilgrim" was running along under the three sails which dick considered were as much as it was prudent to carry. even at her present speed, the schooner, he reckoned, would be within sight of the american shore in about ten days. it was an immense relief to him to find that she was no longer at the mercy of the waves, and when he saw the sails properly set he returned in good spirits to his post at the helm, not forgetting to thank the temporary helmsman for his services, nor omitting his acknowledgment to master jack, who received the compliment with becoming gravity. although the clouds continued to travel all the next day with great rapidity they were very much broken, and alternately the "pilgrim" was bathed in sunlight and enveloped in vapours, which rolled on towards the east. as the weather cleared, the hatchways were opened in order to ventilate the ship, and the outer air was allowed again to penetrate not only the hold, but the cabin and crew's quarters the wet sails were hung out to dry, the deck was washed down, for dick sands was anxious not to bring his ship into port without having "finished her toilet," and he found that his crew could very well spare a few hours daily to get her into proper trim. [illustration: they both examined the outspread chart.] notwithstanding the loss of the log, dick had sufficient experience to be able to make an approximate estimate of the schooner's progress, and after having pointed out to mrs. weldon what he imagined was the "pilgrim's" true position, he told her that it was his firm impression that land would be sighted in little more than a week. "and upon what part of south america do you reckon we are likely to find ourselves?" she asked. "that is more than i dare venture to promise," replied dick; "but i should think somewhere hereabouts." he was pointing on the chart to the long shore-line of chili and peru. they both examined the outspread chart with still closer attention. "here, you see," resumed dick, "here is the island we have just left; we left it in the west; the wind has not shifted; we must expect to come in sight of land, pretty nearly due east of it. the coast has plenty of harbours. from any one of them you will be able easily to get to san francisco. you know, i dare say, that the pacific navigation company's steamers touch at all the principal ports. from any of them you will be sure to get direct passage to california." "but do you mean," asked mrs. weldon, "that you are not going yourself to take the schooner to san francisco?" "not direct," replied the young captain; "i want to see you safe on shore and satisfactorily on your homeward way. when that is done, i shall hope to get competent officers to take the ship to valparaiso, where she will discharge her cargo, as captain hull intended; and afterwards i shall work our way back to san francisco." "ah, well; we will see all about that in due time." mrs. weldon said, smiling; and, after a short pause, added, "at one time, dick, you seemed to have rather a dread of the shore." "quite true," answered dick; "but now i am in hopes we may fall in with some passing vessel; we want to have a confirmation as to our true position. i cannot tell you how surprised i am that we have not come across a single vessel. but when we near the land we shall be able to get a pilot." "but what will happen if we fail to get a pilot?" was mrs. weldon's inquiry. she was anxious to learn how far the lad was prepared to meet any emergency. with unhesitating promptness dick replied,-- "why, then, unless the weather takes the control of the ship out of my hands, i must patiently follow the coast until i come to a harbour of refuge. but if the wind should freshen, i should have to adopt other measures." "what then, dick, what then?" persisted mrs. weldon. the boy's brow knitted itself together in resolution, and he said deliberately,-- "i should run the ship aground." mrs. weldon started. "however," dick continued, "there is no reason to apprehend this. the weather has mended and is likely to mend. and why should we fear about finding a pilot? let us hope all will be well." mrs. weldon at least had satisfied herself on one point. she had ascertained that although dick did not anticipate disaster, yet he was prepared in the case of emergency to resort to measures from which any but the most experienced seaman would shrink. but although dick's equanimity had been successful in allaying any misgivings on mrs. weldon's part, it must be owned that the condition of the atmosphere caused him very serious uneasiness. the wind remained uncomfortably high, and the barometer gave very ominous indications that it would ere long freshen still more. dick dreaded that the time was about to return in which once again he must reduce his vessel to a state of bare poles; but so intense was his aversion to having his ship so wrested as it were from his own management, that he determined to carry the topsail till it was all but carried away by the force of the blast. concerned, moreover, for the safety of his masts, the loss of which he acknowledged must be fatal, he had the shrouds well overhauled and the backstays considerably tightened. more than once another contingency occurred to his mind, and gave him some anxiety. he could not overlook the possibility of the wind changing all round. what should he do in such a case? he would of course endeavour by all means to get the schooner on by incessant tacking; but was there not the certainty of a most hazardous delay? and worse than this, was there not a likelihood of the "pilgrim" being once again driven far out to sea? happily these forebodings were not realized. the wind, after chopping about for several days, at one time blowing from the north, and at another from the south, finally settled down into a stiffish gale from the west, which did nothing worse than severely strain the masts. in this weary but hopeful endurance time passed on. the th of april had arrived. it was more than two months since the "pilgrim" had quitted new zealand; it was true that during the first three weeks of her voyage she had been impeded by protracted calms and contrary winds; but since that time her speed had been rapid, the very tempests had driven her forwards with unwonted velocity; she had never failed to have her bow towards the land, and yet land seemed as remote as ever; the coast line was retreating as they approached it. what could be the solution of the mystery? from the cross-trees one or other of the negroes was kept incessantly on the watch. dick sands himself, telescope in hand, would repeatedly ascend in the hope of beholding some lofty peak of the andes emerging from the mists that hung over the horizon. but all in vain. false alarms were given more than once. sometimes tom, sometimes hercules, or one of the others would be sure that a distant speck they had descried was assuredly a mountain ridge; but the vapours were continually gathering in such fantastic forms that their unexperienced eyes were soon deceived, and they seldom had to wait long before their fond delusion was all dispelled. at last, the expected longing was fulfilled. at eight o'clock one morning the mists seemed broken up with unusual rapidity, and the horizon was singularly clear. dick had hardly gone aloft when his voice rung out,-- "land! land ahead!" as if summoned by a spell, every one was on deck in an instant: mrs. weldon, sanguine of a speedy end to the general anxiety; little jack, gratified at a new object of curiosity; cousin benedict, already scenting a new field for entomological investigation; old nan; and the negroes, eager to set foot upon american soil; all, with the exception of negoro, all were on deck; but the cook did not stir from his solitude, or betray any sympathy with the general excitement. whatever hesitation there might be at first soon passed away; one after another soon distinguished the shore they were approaching, and in half an hour there was no room for the most sceptical to doubt that dick was right. there was land not far ahead. a few miles to the east there was a long low-lying coast; the chain of the andes ought to be visible; but it was obscured, of course, by the intervening clouds. the "pilgrim" bore down rapidly towards the land, and in a short time its configuration could be plainly made out. towards the north-east the coast terminated in a headland of moderate height sheltering a kind of roadstead; on the south-east it stretched out in a long and narrow tongue. the andes were still wanting to the scene; they must be somewhere in the background; but at present, strange to say, there was only a succession of low cliffs with some trees standing out against the sky. no human habitation, no harbour, not even an indication of a river-mouth, could anywhere be seen. the wind remained brisk, and the schooner was driving directly towards the land, with sails shortened as seemed desirable; but dick realized to himself the fact that he was utterly incapable of altering her course. with eager eyes he scrutinized his situation. straight ahead was a reef over which the waves were curling, and around which the surf must be tremendous. it could hardly be more than a mile away. the wind seemed brisker than before. after gazing awhile, dick seemed to have come to a sudden resolution. he went quickly aft and took the helm. he had seen a little cove, and had made up his mind that he would try and make his way into it. he did not speak a word; he knew the difficulty of the task he had undertaken; he was aware from the white foam, that there was shallow water on either hand; but he kept the secret of the peril to himself, and sought no counsel in coming to his fixed resolve. dingo had been trotting up and down the deck. all at once he bounded to the fore, and broke out into a piteous howl. it roused dick from his anxious cogitations. was it possible that the animal recognized the coast? it almost seemed as if it brought back some painful associations. the howling of the dog had manifestly attracted negoro's attention; the man emerged from his cabin, and, regardless of the dog, stood close to the netting; but although he gazed at the surf, it did not seem to occasion him any alarm. mrs. weldon, who was watching him, fancied she saw a flush rise to his face, which involuntarily suggested the thought to her mind that negoro had seen the place before. either she had no time or no wish to express what had struck her, for she did not mention it to dick, who, at that moment, left the helm, and came and stood beside her. dick looked as if he were taking a lingering farewell of the cove past which they were being carried beyond his power to help. in a few moments he turned round to mrs. weldon, and said quietly,-- "mrs. weldon, i am disappointed. i hoped to get the schooner into yonder cove; but there is no chance now; if nothing is done, in half an hour she will be upon that reef. i have but one alternative left. i must run her aground. it will be utter destruction to the ship, but there is no choice. your safety is the first and paramount consideration." "do you mean that there is no other course to be taken, dick?" "none whatever," said dick decidedly. "it must be as you will," she said. forthwith ensued the agitating preparations for stranding. mrs. weldon, jack, cousin benedict, and nan were provided with life belts, while dick and the negroes made themselves ready for being dashed into the waves. every precaution that the emergency admitted was duly taken. mrs. weldon was entrusted to the special charge of hercules; dick made himself responsible for doing all he could for little jack; cousin benedict, who was tolerably calm, was handed over to bat and austin; while actæon promised to look after nan. negoro's nonchalance implied that he was quite capable of shifting for himself. dick had the forethought also to order about a dozen barrels of their cargo to be brought in front, so that when the "pilgrim" struck, the oil escaping and floating on the waves would temporarily lull their fury, and make smoother water for the passage of the ship. after satisfying himself that there was no other measure to be taken to ameliorate the peril, dick sands returned to the helm. the schooner was all but upon the reef, and only a few cables' length from the shore; her starboard quarter indeed was already bathed in the seething foam, and any instant the keel might be expected to grate upon the under-lying rock. presently a change of colour in the water was observed; it revealed a passage between the rocks. dick gave the wheel a turn; he saw the chance of getting aground nearer to the shore than he had dared to hope, and he made the most of it. he steered the schooner right into the narrow channel; the sea was furious, and dashed vehemently upon the crags on either hand. [illustration: the sea was furious, and dashed vehemently upon the crags on either hand] "now, my lads!" he cried to his crew, "now's your time; out with your oil! let it run!" ready for the order, the negroes poured out the oil, and the raging waters were stilled as if by magic. a few moments more and perchance they would rage more vehemently than ever. but for the instant they were lulled. the "pilgrim," meanwhile, had glided onwards, and made dead for the adjacent shore. there was a sudden shock. caught by an enormous wave the schooner had been hurled aground; her masts had fallen, fortunately without injury to any one on board. but the vessel had parted amidships, and was foundering; the water was rushing irresistibly into the hold. the shore, however, was not half a cable's length away; there was a low, dark ridge of rocks that was united to the beach; it afforded ample means of rescue, and in less than ten minutes the "pilgrim's" captain, crew, and passengers were all landed, with their lives, at the foot of the overhanging cliff. chapter xiv. ashore. thus, after a voyage of seventy-four days, the "pilgrim" had stranded. mrs. weldon and her fellow-voyagers joined in thanksgiving to the kind providence that had brought them ashore, not upon one of the solitary islands of polynesia, but upon a solid continent, from almost any part of which there would be no difficulty in getting home. the ship was totally lost. she was lying in the surf a hopeless wreck, and few must be the hours that would elapse before she would be broken up in scattered fragments; it was impossible to save her. notwithstanding that dick sands bewailed the loss of a valuable ship and her cargo to the owner, he had the satisfaction of knowing that he had been instrumental in saving what was far more precious, the lives of the owner's wife and son. it was impossible to do more than hazard a conjecture as to the part of the south american coast on which the "pilgrim" had been cast. dick imagined that it must be somewhere on the coast of peru; after sighting easter island, he knew that the united action of the equatorial current and the brisk wind must have had the effect of driving the schooner far northward, and he formed his conclusion accordingly. be the true position, however, what it might, it was all important that it should be accurately ascertained as soon as possible. if it were really in peru, he would not be long in finding his way to one of the numerous ports and villages that lie along the coast. but the shore here was quite a desert. a narrow strip of beach, strewn with boulders, was enclosed by a cliff of no great height, in which, at irregular intervals, deep funnels appeared as chasms in the rock. here and there a gentle slope led to the top. about a quarter of a mile to the north was the mouth of a little river which had not been visible from the sea. its banks were overhung by a number of "rhizophora," a species of mangrove entirely distinct from that indigenous to india. it was soon ascertained that the summit of the cliff was clothed by a dense forest, extending far away in undulations of verdure to the mountains in the background. had cousin benedict been a botanist, he could not have failed to find a new and interesting field for his researches; there were lofty baobabs (to which an extraordinary longevity has often been erroneously ascribed), with bark resembling egyptian syenite; there were white pines, tamarinds, pepper-plants of peculiar species, and numerous other plants unfamiliar to the eye of a native of the north; but, strange to say, there was not a single specimen of the extensive family of palms, of which more than a thousand varieties are scattered in profusion in so many quarters of the globe. above the shore hovered a large number of screeching birds, mostly of the swallow tribe, their black plumage shot with steelly blue, and shading off to a light brown at the top of the head. now and then a few partridges of a greyish colour rose on wing, their necks entirely bare of feathers: the fearless manner in which the various birds all allowed themselves to be approached made mrs. weldon and dick both wonder if the shores upon which they had been thrown were not so deserted that the sound of fire-arms was not known. on the edge of the reefs some pelicans (of the species known as _pelicanus minor_) were busily filling their pouches with tiny fish, and some gulls coming in from the open sea began to circle round the wreck: with these exceptions not a living creature appeared in sight. benedict, no doubt, could have discovered many entomological novelties amongst the foliage, but these could give no more information than the birds as to the name of their habitat. neither north, nor south, nor towards the forest, was there trace of rising smoke, or any footprint or other sign to indicate the presence of a human being. dick's surprise was very great. he knew that the proximity of a native would have made dingo bark aloud; but the dog gave no warning; he was running backwards and forwards, his tail lowered and his nose close to the ground; now and again he uttered a deep growl. "look at dingo!" said mrs. weldon; "how strange he is! he seems to be trying to discover a lost scent." after watching the dog for a time, she spoke again:-- "look, too, at negoro! he and the dog seem to be on the same purpose!" "as to negoro," said dick, "i cannot concern myself with him now; he must do as he pleases; i have no further control over him; his service expires with the loss of the ship." negoro was in fact walking to and fro, surveying the shore with the air of a man who was trying to recall some past experience to his recollection. his dogged taciturnity was too well known for any one to think of questioning him; every one was accustomed to let him go his own way, and when dick noticed that he had gone towards the little river, and had disappeared behind the cliff, he thought no more about him. dingo likewise had quite forgotten his enemy, and desisted from his growling. the first necessity for the shipwrecked party was to find a temporary shelter where they might take some refreshment. there was no lack of provisions; independently of the resources of the land, the ebbing tide had left upon the rocks the great bulk of the "pilgrim's" stores, and the negroes had already collected several kegs of biscuit, and a number of cases of preserved meat, besides a variety of other supplies. all that they rescued they carefully piled up above high-water mark. as nothing appeared to be injured by the sea-water, the victualling of the party all seemed to be satisfactorily secure for the interval which must elapse (and they all believed it would not be long,) before they reached one of the villages which they presumed were close at hand. dick, moreover, took the precaution of sending hercules to get a small supply of fresh water from the river hard by, and the good-natured fellow returned carrying a whole barrel-full on his shoulder. [illustration: surveying the shore with the air of a man who was trying to recall some past experience] plenty of fuel was lying about, and whenever they wanted to light a fire they were sure of having an abundance of dead wood and the roots of the old mangroves. old tom, an inveterate smoker, always carried a tinder box in his pocket; this had been too tightly fastened to be affected by the moisture, and could always produce a spark upon occasion. still they must have a shelter. without some rest it was impossible to start upon a tour of exploration; accordingly, all interests were directed towards ascertaining where the necessary repose could be obtained. the honour of discovering where the desired retreat could be found fell to the lot of little jack. trotting about at the foot of the cliff, he came upon one of those grottoes which are constantly being found hollowed out in the rock by the vehement action of the waves in times of tempest. "here, look here!" cried the child; "here's a place!" "well done, jack!" answered his mother; "your lucky discovery is just what we wanted. if we were going to stay here any time we should have to do the same as the swiss family robinson, and name the spot after you!" it was hardly more than twelve or fourteen feet square, and yet the grotto seemed to jack to be a gigantic cavern. but narrow as its limits were, it was capacious enough to receive the entire party. it was a great satisfaction to mrs. weldon to observe that it was perfectly dry, and as the moon was just about her first quarter there was no likelihood of a tide rising to the foot of the cliff. at any rate, it was resolved that they might take up their quarters there for a few hours. shortly after one o'clock the whole party were seated upon a carpet of seaweed round a repast consisting of preserved meat, biscuit, and water flavoured with a few drops of rum, of which bat had saved a quart bottle from the wreck. even negoro had returned and joined the group; probably he had not cared to venture alone along the bank of the stream into the forest. he sat listening, as it seemed indifferently, to the various plans for the future that were being discussed, and did not open his mouth either by way of remonstrance or suggestion. dingo was not forgotten, and had his share of food duly given him outside the grotto, where he was keeping guard. when the meal was ended, mrs. weldon, passing her arms round jack, who was lounging half asleep with excitement and fatigue at her side, was the first to speak. "my dear dick," she said, "in the name of us all, let me thank you for the services you have rendered us in our tedious time of difficulty. as you have been our captain at sea, let me beg you to be our guide upon land. we shall have perfect confidence in your judgment, and await your instructions as to what our next proceedings shall be." all eyes were turned upon dick. even negoro appeared to be roused to curiosity, as if eager to know what he had to say. dick did not speak for some moments. he was manifestly pondering what step he should advise. after a while he said,-- "my own impression, mrs. weldon, is that we have been cast ashore upon one of the least-frequented parts of the coast of peru, and that we are near the borders of the pampas. in that case i should conclude that we are at a considerable distance from any village. now, i should recommend that we stay here altogether for the coming night. to-morrow morning, two of us can start off on an exploring expedition. i entertain but little doubt that natives will be met with within ten or a dozen miles." mrs. weldon looked doubtful. plainly she thought unfavourably of the project of separating the party. she reflected for a considerable time, and then asked,-- "and who is to undertake the task of exploring?" prompt was dick's answer:-- "tom and i." "and leave us here?" suggested the lady. "yes; to take care of you, there will be hercules, bat, actæon and austin. negoro, too, i presume, means to remain here," said dick, glancing towards the cook. "perhaps," replied negoro, sparing as ever of his words. "we shall take dingo," added dick; "likely enough he may be useful." at the sound of his name the dog had entered the grotto. a short bark seemed to testify his approval of dick's proposal. mrs. weldon was silent. she looked sad and thoughtful. it was hard to reconcile herself to the division of the party. she was aware that the separation would not be for long, but she could not suppress a certain feeling of nervousness. was it not possible that some natives, attracted by the wreck, would assault them in hopes of plunder? every argument he could think of, dick brought forward to reassure the lady. he told her that the indians were perfectly harmless, and entirely different to the savage tribes of africa and polynesia; there was no reason to apprehend any mischief, even if they should chance to encounter them, which was itself extremely unlikely. no doubt the separation would have its inconveniences, but they would be insignificant compared with the difficulty of traversing the country _en masse_. tom and he would have far greater freedom if they went alone, and could make their investigations much more thoroughly. finally he promised that if within two days they failed to discover human habitation, they would return to the grotto forthwith. "i confess, however," he added, "that i have little expectation of being able to ascertain our true position, until i have penetrated some distance into the country." there was nothing in dick's representations but what commanded mrs. weldon's assent as reasonable. it was simply her own nervousness, she acknowledged, that made her hesitate; but it was only with extreme reluctance that she finally yielded to the proposition. "and what, mr. benedict, is your opinion of my proposal?" said dick, turning to the entomologist. "i?" answered cousin benedict, looking somewhat bewildered, "oh, i am agreeable to anything. i dare say i shall find some specimens. i think i will go and look at once." "take my advice, and don't go far away," replied dick. "all right; i shall take care of myself." "and don't be bringing back a lot of mosquitoes," said old tom mischievously. with his box under his arm, the naturalist left the grotto. negoro followed almost immediately. he did not take the same direction as benedict up the cliff, but for the second time bent his steps towards the river, and proceeded along its bank till he was out of sight. it was not long before jack's exertions told upon him, and he fell into a sound sleep. mrs. weldon having gently laid him on nan's lap, wandered out and made her way to the water's edge. she was soon joined by dick and the negroes, who wanted to see whether it was possible to get to the "pilgrim," and secure any articles that might be serviceable for future use. the reef on which the schooner had stranded was now quite dry, and the carcase of the vessel which had been partially covered at high water was lying in the midst of _debris_ of the most promiscuous character. the wide difference between high and low-water mark caused dick sands no little surprise. he knew that the tides on the shores of the pacific were very inconsiderable; in his own mind, however, he came to the conclusion that the phenomenon was to be explained by the unusually high wind that had been blowing on the coast. not without emotion could mrs. weldon, or indeed any of them, behold the unfortunate ship upon which they had spent so many eventful days, lying dismasted on her side. but there was little time for sentiment. if they wished to visit the hull before it finally went to pieces there must be no delay. hoisting themselves by some loose rigging that was hanging from the deck, dick and several of the negroes contrived to make their way into the interior of the hull. dick left his men to gather together all they could in the way of food and drink from the store-room, and himself went straight to the stern cabin, into which the water had not penetrated. here he found four excellent purday's remington rifles and a hundred cartridges; with these he determined to arm his party, in case they should be attacked by indians. he also chose six of the strongest of the cutlasses that are used for slicing up dead whales; and did not forget the little toy gun which was jack's special property. unexpectedly he found a pocket-compass, which he was only too glad to appropriate. what a boon it would have been had he discovered it earlier! the ship's charts in the fore-cabin were too much injured by water to be of any further service. nearly everything was either lost or spoiled, but the misfortune was not felt very acutely because there was ample provision for a few days, and it seemed useless to burden themselves with more than was necessary. dick hardly needed mrs. weldon's advice to secure all the money that might be on board, but after the most diligent search he failed to discover more than five hundred dollars. this was a subject of perplexity. mrs. weldon herself had had a considerably larger sum than this, and captain hull was known always to keep a good reserve in hand. there was but one way to solve the mystery. some one had been beforehand to the wreck. it could not be any of the negroes, as not one of them had for a moment left the grotto. suspicion naturally fell upon negoro, who had been out alone upon the shore. morose and cold-blooded as the man was, dick hardly knew why he should suspect him of the crime of theft; nevertheless, he determined to cross-examine him, and, if need be, to have him searched, as soon as he came back. [illustration: not without emotion could mrs. weldon, or indeed any of them, behold the unfortunate ship.] the day wore onwards to its close. the sun was approaching the vernal equinox, and sank almost perpendicularly on to the horizon. twilight was very short, and the rapidity with which darkness came on confirmed dick in his belief that they had got ashore at some spot lying between the tropic of capricorn and the equator. they all assembled in the grotto again for the purpose of getting some sleep. "another rough night coming on!" said tom, pointing to the heavy clouds that hung over the horizon. "no doubt, tom!" answered dick, "and i think we may congratulate ourselves on being safe out of our poor ship." as the night could not be otherwise than very dark, it was arranged that the negroes should take their turns in keeping guard at the entrance of the grotto. dingo also would be upon the alert. benedict had not yet returned. hercules shouted his name with the full strength of his capacious lungs, and shortly afterwards the entomologist was seen making his way down the face of the cliff at the imminent risk of breaking his neck. he was in a great rage. he had not found a single insect worth having, scorpions, scolopendra, and other myriapoda were in the forest in abundance; but not one of these of course could be allowed a place in his collection. "have i come six thousand miles for this?" he cried: "have i endured storm and shipwreck only to be cast where not a hexapod is to be seen? the country is detestable! i shall not stay in it another hour!" ever gentle to his eccentricities, mrs. weldon soothed him as she would a child, she told him that he had better take some rest now, and most likely he would have better luck to-morrow. cousin benedict had hardly been pacified when tom remarked that negoro too had not returned. "never mind!" said bat, "his room is as good as his company." "i cannot say that i altogether think so. the man is no favourite of mine, but i like him better under my own eye," said mrs. weldon. "perhaps he has his own reasons for keeping away," said dick, and taking mrs. weldon aside, he communicated to her his suspicions of the fellow's dishonesty. he found that she coincided with him in her view of negoro's conduct; but she did not agree with him in his proposal to have him searched at once. if he returned, she should be convinced that he had deposited the money in some secret spot; and as there would be no proof of his guilt, it would be better to leave him, at least for a time, uninterrogated. [illustration: the entomologist was seen making his way down the face of the cliff at the imminent risk of breaking his neck.] dick was convinced by her representations, and promised to act upon her advice. before they resigned themselves to sleep, they had repeatedly summoned negoro back, but he either could not or would not hear. mrs. weldon and dick scarcely knew what to think; unless he had lost his way; it was unaccountable why he should be wandering about alone on a dark night in a strange country. presently dingo was heard barking furiously. he had left the opening of the grotto, and was evidently down at the water's edge. imagining that negoro must be coming, dick sent three of the negroes in the direction of the river to meet him; but when they reached the bank not a soul could be seen, and as dingo was quiet again, they made their way back to the grotto. excepting the man left on watch, they now all lay down, hoping to get some repose. mrs. weldon, however, could not sleep. the land for which she had sighed so ardently had been reached, but it had failed to give either the security or the comfort which she had anticipated! chapter xv. a stranger. at daybreak, next morning, austin, who happened to be on guard, heard dingo bark, and noticed that he started up and ran towards the river. arousing the inmates of the grotto, he announced to them that some one was coming. "it isn't negoro," said tom; "dingo would bark louder than that if negoro were to be seen." "who, then, can it be?" asked mrs. weldon, with an inquiring glance towards dick. "we must wait and see, madam," replied dick quietly. bidding bat, austin, and hercules follow his example, dick sands took up a cutlass and a rifle, into the breach of which he slipped a cartridge. thus armed, the four young men made their way towards the river bank. tom and actæon were left with mrs. weldon at the entrance of the grotto. the sun was just rising. its rays, intercepted by the lofty range of mountains in the east, did not fall directly on the cliff; but the sea to its western horizon was sparkling in the sunbeams as the party marched along the shore. dingo was motionless as a setter, but did not cease barking. it soon proved not to be his old enemy who was disturbing him. a man, who was not negoro, appeared round the angle of the cliff, and advancing cautiously along the bank of the stream, seemed by his gestures to be endeavouring to pacify the dog, with which an encounter would certainly have been by no means desirable. "that's not negoro!" said hercules. [illustration: "good morning, my young friend."] "no loss for any of us," muttered bat. "you are right," replied dick; "perhaps he is a native; let us hope he may be able to tell us our whereabouts, and save us the trouble of exploring." with their rifles on their shoulders, they advanced steadily towards the new arrival. the stranger, on becoming aware of their approach, manifested great surprise; he was apparently puzzled as to how they had reached the shore, for the "pilgrim" had been entirely broken up during the night, and the spars that were floating about had probably been too few and too scattered to attract his attention. his first attitude seemed to betray something of fear; and raising to his shoulder a gun that had been slung to his belt, he began to retrace his steps; but conciliatory gestures on the part of dick quickly reassured him, and after a moment's hesitation, he continued to advance. he was a man of about forty years of age, strongly built, with a keen, bright eye, grizzly hair and beard, and a complexion tanned as with constant exposure to the forest air. he wore a broad-brimmed hat, a kind of leather jerkin, or tunic, and long boots reaching nearly to his knees. to his high heels was fastened a pair of wide-rowelled spurs, which clanked as he moved. dick sands in an instant saw that he was not looking upon one of the roving indians of the pampas, but upon one of those adventurers, often of very doubtful character, who are not unfrequently to be met with in the remotest quarters of the earth. clearly this was neither an indian nor a spaniard. his erect, not to say rigid deportment, and the reddish hue with which his hair and beard were streaked, betokened him to be of anglo-saxon origin, a conjecture which was at once confirmed when upon dick's wishing him "good morning," he replied in unmistakable english, with hardly a trace of foreign accent,-- "good morning, my young friend." he stepped forward, and having shaken hands with dick, nodded to all his companions. "are you english?" he asked. "no; we are americans," replied dick. "north or south?" inquired the man. "north," dick answered. the information seemed to afford the stranger no little satisfaction, and he again wrung dick's hand with all the enthusiasm of a fellow-countryman. "and may i ask what brings you here?" he continued. before, however, dick had time to reply, the stranger had courteously raised his hat, and, looking round, dick saw that his bow was intended for mrs. weldon, who had just reached the river-bank. she proceeded to tell him the particulars of how they had been shipwrecked, and how the vessel had gone to pieces on the reefs. a look of pity crossed the man's face as he listened, and he cast his eye, as it might be involuntarily, upon the sea, in order to discern some vestige of the stranded ship. "ah! there is nothing to be seen of our poor schooner!" said dick mournfully; "the last of her was broken up in the storm last night." "and now," interposed mrs. weldon, "can you tell us where we are?" "where?" exclaimed the man, with every indication of surprise at her question; "why, on the coast of south america, of course!" "but on what part? are we near peru?" dick inquired eagerly. "no, my lad, no; you are more to the south; you are on the coast of bolivia; close to the borders of chili." "a good distance, i suppose, from lima?" asked dick. "from lima? yes, a long way; lima is far to the north." "and what is the name of that promontory?" dick said, pointing to the adjacent headland. "that, i confess, is more than i am able to tell you," replied the stranger; "for although i have travelled a great deal in the interior of the country, i have never before visited this part of the coast." dick pondered in thoughtful silence over the information he had thus received. he had no reason to doubt its accuracy; according to his own reckoning he would have expected to come ashore somewhere between the latitudes of ° and °; and by this stranger's showing he had made the latitude °; the discrepancy was not very great; it was not more than might be accounted for by the action of the currents, which he knew he had been unable to estimate; moreover, the deserted character of the whole shore inclined him to believe more easily that he was in lower bolivia. whilst this conversation was going on, mrs. weldon, whose suspicions had been excited by negoro's disappearance, had been scrutinizing the stranger with the utmost attention; but she could detect nothing either in his manner or in his words to give her any cause to doubt his good faith. "pardon me," she said presently; "but you do not seem to me to be a native of peru?" "no; like yourself, i am an american, mrs. ----;" he paused, as if waiting to be told her name. the lady smiled, and gave her name; he thanked her, and continued,-- "my name is harris. i was born in south carolina; but it is now twenty years since i left my home for the pampas of bolivia; imagine, therefore, how much pleasure it gives me to come across some countrymen of my own." "do you live in this part of the province, mr. harris?" mrs. weldon asked. "no, indeed; far away; i live down to the south, close to the borders of chili. at present i am taking a journey north-eastwards to atacama." "atacama!" exclaimed dick; "are we anywhere near the desert of atacama?" "yes, my young friend," rejoined harris, "you are just on the edge of it. it extends far beyond those mountains which you see on the horizon, and is one of the most curious and least explored parts of the continent." "and are you travelling through it alone?" mrs. weldon inquired. "yes, quite alone; and it is not the first time i have performed the journey. one of my brothers owns a large farm, the hacienda of san felice, about miles from here, and i have occasion now and then to pay him business visits." [illustration: "he is my little son."] after a moment's hesitation, as if he were weighing a sudden thought, he continued,-- "i am on my way there now, and if you will accompany me i can promise you a hearty welcome, and my brother will be most happy to do his best to provide you with means of conveyance to san francisco." mrs. weldon had hardly begun to express her thanks for the proposal when he said abruptly,-- "are these negroes your slaves?" "slaves! sir," replied mrs. weldon, drawing herself up proudly; "we have no slaves in the united states. the south has now long followed the example of the north. slavery is abolished." "i beg your pardon, madam. i had forgotten that the war of had solved that question. but seeing these fellows with you, i thought perhaps they might be in your service," he added, with a slight tone of irony. "we are very proud to be of any service to mrs. weldon," tom interposed with dignity, "but we are no man's property. it is true i was sold for a slave when i was six years old; but i have long since had my freedom; and so has my son. bat here, and all his friends, were born of free parents." "ah! well then, i have to congratulate you," replied harris, in a manner that jarred very sensibly upon mrs. weldon's feelings; but she said nothing. harris added,-- "i can assure you that you are as safe here in bolivia as you would be in new england." he had not finished speaking, when jack, followed by nan, came out of the grotto. the child was rubbing his eyes, having only just awakened from his night's sleep. catching sight of his mother, he darted towards her. "what a charming little boy!" exclaimed harris. "he is my little son," said mrs. weldon, kissing the child by way of morning greeting. "ah, madam, i am sure you must have suffered doubly on his account. will the little man let me kiss him too?" but there was something in the stranger's appearance that did not take jack's fancy, and he shrank back timidly to his mother's side. "you must excuse him, sir; he is very shy." "never mind," said harris; "we shall be better acquainted by-and-by. when we get to my brother's, he shall have a nice little pony to ride." but not even this tempting offer seemed to have any effect in coaxing jack into a more genial mood. he kept fast hold of his mother's hand, and she, somewhat vexed at his behaviour, and anxious that no offence should be given to a man who appeared so friendly in his intentions, hastened to turn the conversation to another topic. meantime dick sands had been considering harris's proposal. upon the whole, the plan of making their way to the hacienda of san felice seemed to commend itself to his judgment; but he could not conceal from himself that a journey of miles across plains and forests, without any means of transport, would be extremely fatiguing. on expressing his doubts on this point, he was met with the reply,-- "oh, that can be managed well enough, young man; just round the corner of the cliff there i have a horse, which is quite at the disposal of the lady and her son; and by easy stages of ten miles or so a day, it will do the rest of us no harm to travel on foot. besides," he added, "when i spoke of the journey being miles, i was thinking of following, as i usually do, the course of the river; but by taking a short cut across the forest, we may reduce the distance by nearly eighty miles." mrs. weldon was about to say how grateful she was, but harris anticipated her. "not a word, madam, i beg you. you cannot thank me better than by accepting my offer. i confess i have never crossed this forest, but i am so much accustomed to the pampas that i have little fear of losing my way. the only difficulty is in the matter of provisions, as i have only supplied myself with enough to carry me on to san felice." "as to provisions," replied mrs. weldon, "we have enough and to spare; and we shall be more than willing to share everything with you." "that is well," answered harris; "then there can be no reason why we should not start at once." he was turning away with the intention of fetching his horse, when dick sands detained him. true to his seaman's instincts, the young sailor felt that he should be much more at his ease on the sea-shore than traversing the heart of an unknown forest. "pardon me, mr. harris," he began, "but instead of taking so long a journey across the desert of atacama, would it not be far better for us to follow the coast either northwards or southwards, until we reach the nearest seaport?" a frown passed over harris's countenance. "i know very little about the coast," he answered; "but i know enough to assure you that there is no town to the north within or miles." "then why should we not go south?" persisted dick. "you would then have to travel to chili, which is almost as far; and, under your circumstances, i should not advise you to skirt the pampas of the argentine republic. for my own part, i could not accompany you." "but do not the vessels which ply between chili and peru come within sight of this coast?" interposed mrs. weldon. "no, madam; they keep out so far to sea that there would not be the faintest chance of your hailing one." "you seem to have another question to ask mr. harris," mrs. weldon continued, addressing dick, who still looked rather doubtful. dick replied that he was about to inquire at what port he would be likely to find a ship to convey their party to san francisco. "that i really cannot tell you, my young friend," rejoined harris; "i can only repeat my promise that we will furnish you with the means of conveyance from san felice to atacama, where no doubt you will obtain all the information you require." "i hope you will not think that dick is insensible to your kindness, mr. harris," said mrs. weldon, apologetically. "on the contrary," promptly observed dick; "i fully appreciate it; i only wish we had been cast ashore upon a spot where we should have had no need to intrude upon his generosity." "i assure you, madam, it gives me unbounded pleasure to serve you in any way," said harris; "it is, as i have told you, not often that i come in contact with any of my own countrymen." "then we accept your offer as frankly as it is made," replied the lady, adding; "but i cannot consent to deprive you of your horse. i am a very good walker." "so am i," said harris, with a bow, "and consequently i intend you and your little son to ride. i am used to long tramps through the pampas. besides, it is not at all unlikely that we shall come across some of the workpeople belonging to the hacienda; if so, they will be able to give us a mount." convinced that it would only be thwarting mrs. weldon's wishes to throw any further impediment in the way, dick sands suppressed his desire to raise fresh obstacles, and simply asked how soon they ought to start. "this very day, at once," said harris quickly. "so soon?" asked dick. "yes. the rainy season begins in april, and the sooner we are at san felice the better. the way through the forest is the safest as well as the shortest, for we shall be less likely to meet any of the nomad indians, who are notorious robbers." without making any direct reply, dick proceeded to instruct the negroes to choose such of the provisions as were most easy of transport, and to make them up into packages, that every one might carry a due share. hercules with his usual good nature professed himself willing to carry the entire load; a proposal, however, to which dick would not listen for a moment. "you are a fine fellow, hercules" said harris, scrutinizing the giant with the eye of a connoisseur; "you would be worth something in the african market." "those who want me now must catch me first," retorted hercules, with a grin. the services of all hands were enlisted, and in a comparatively short time sufficient food was packed up to supply the party for about ten days' march. "you must allow us to show you what hospitality is in our power," said mrs. weldon, addressing her new acquaintance; "our breakfast will be ready in a quarter of an hour, and we shall be happy if you will join us." "it will give me much pleasure," answered harris, gaily; "i will employ the interval in fetching my horse, who has breakfasted already." "i will accompany you," said dick. "by all means, my young friend; come with me, and i will show you the lower part of the river." while they were gone, hercules was sent in search of cousin benedict, who was wandering on the top of the cliff in quest of some wonderful insect, which, of course, was not to be found. without asking his permission, hercules unceremoniously brought him back to mrs. weldon, who explained how they were about to start upon a ten days' march into the interior of the country. the entomologist was quite satisfied with the arrangement, and declared himself ready for a march across the entire continent, as long as he was free to be adding to his collection on the way. thus assured of her cousin's acquiescence in her plans; mrs. weldon proceeded to prepare such a substantial meal as she hoped would invigorate them all for the approaching journey. harris and dick sands, meantime, had turned the corner of the cliff, and walked about paces along the shore until they came to a tree to which a horse was tethered. the creature neighed as it recognized its master. it was a strong-built animal, of a kind that dick had not seen before, although its long neck and crupper, short loins, flat shoulders and arched forehead indicated that it was of arabian breed. [illustration: they came to a tree to which a horse was tethered.] "plenty of strength here," harris said, as after unfastening the horse, he took it by the bridle and began to lead it along the shore. dick made no reply; he was casting a hasty glance at the forest which enclosed them on either hand; it was an unattractive sight, but he observed nothing to give him any particular ground for uneasiness. turning round, he said abruptly,-- "did you meet a portuguese last night, named negoro?" "negoro? who is negoro?" asked harris, in a tone of surprise. "he was our ship's cook; but he has disappeared." "drowned, probably," said harris indifferently. "no, he was not drowned; he was with us during the evening, but left afterwards; i thought perhaps you might have met him along the river-side, as you came that way." "no," said harris, "i saw no one; if your cook ventured alone into the forest, most likely he has lost his way; it is possible we may pick him up upon our road." when they arrived at the grotto, they found breakfast duly prepared. like the supper of the previous evening it consisted mainly of corned beef and biscuit. harris did ample justice to the repast. "there is no fear of our starving as we go," he observed to mrs. weldon; "but i can hardly say so much for the unfortunate portuguese, your cook, of whom my young friend here has been speaking." "ah! has dick been telling you about negoro?" mrs. weldon said. dick explained that he had been inquiring whether mr. harris had happened to meet him in the direction he had come. "i saw nothing of him," harris repeated; "and as he has deserted you, you need not give yourselves any concern about him." and apparently glad to turn the subject, he said, "now, madam, i am at your service; shall we start at once?" it was agreed that there was no cause for delay. each one took up the package that had been assigned him. mrs. weldon, with hercules' help, mounted the horse, and jack, with his miniature gun slung across his shoulder, was placed astride in front of her. without a thought of acknowledging the kindness of the good-natured stranger in providing him so enjoyable a ride, the heedless little fellow declared himself quite capable of guiding the "gentleman's horse," and when to indulge him the bridle was put into his hand, he looked as proud as though he had been appointed leader of the whole caravan. chapter xvi. through the forest. although there was no obvious cause for apprehension, it cannot be denied that it was with a certain degree of foreboding that dick sands first entered that dense forest, through which for the next ten days they were all to wend their toilsome way. mrs. weldon, on the contrary, was full of confidence and hope. a woman and a mother, she might have been expected to be conscious of anxiety at the peril to which she might be exposing herself and her child; and doubtless she would have been sensible of alarm if her mind had not been fully satisfied upon two points; first, that the portion of the pampas they were about to traverse was little infested either by natives or by dangerous beasts; and secondly, that she was under the protection of a guide so trustworthy as she believed harris to be. the entrance to the forest was hardly more than three hundred paces up the river. an order of march had been arranged which was to be observed as closely as possible throughout the journey. at the head of the troop were harris and dick sands, one armed with his long gun, the other with his remington; next came bat and austin, each carrying a gun and a cutlass, then mrs. weldon and jack, on horseback, closely followed by tom and old nan, while actæon with the fourth remington, and hercules with a huge hatchet in his waist-belt, brought up the rear. dingo had no especial place in the procession, but wandered to and fro at his pleasure. ever since he had been cast ashore dick had noticed a remarkable change in the dog's behaviour; the animal was in a constant state of agitation, always apparently on the search for some lost scent, and repeatedly giving vent to a low growl, which seemed to proceed from grief rather than from rage. as for cousin benedict, his movements were permitted to be nearly as erratic as dingo's; nothing but a leading-string could possibly have kept him in the ranks. with his tin box under his arm, and his butterfly net in his hand, and his huge magnifying-glass suspended from his neck, he would be sometimes far ahead, sometimes a long way behind, and at the risk of being attacked by some venomous snake, would make frantic dashes into the tall grass whenever he espied some attractive orthoptera or other insect which he thought might be honoured by a place in his collection. in one hour after starting mrs. weldon had called to him a dozen times without the slightest effect. at last she told him seriously that if he would not give up chasing the insects at a distance, she should be obliged to take possession of his tin box. "take away my box!" he cried, with as much horror as if she had threatened to tear out his vitals. "yes, your box and your net too!" "my box and my net! but surely not my spectacles!" almost shrieked the excited entomologist. "yes, and your spectacles as well!" added mrs. weldon mercilessly; "i am glad you have reminded me of another means of reducing you to obedience!" the triple penalty of which he was thus warned had the effect of keeping him from wandering away for the best part of the next hour, but he was soon once more missing from the ranks; he was manifestly incorrigible; the deprivation of box, net, and spectacles would, it was acknowledged, be utterly without avail to prevent him from rambling. accordingly it was thought better to let him have his own way, especially as hercules volunteered to keep his eye upon him, and to endeavour to guard the worthy naturalist as carefully as he would himself protect some precious specimen of a lepidoptera. further anxiety on his account was thus put to rest. [illustration: the way across the forest could scarcely be called a path.] in spite of harris's confident assertion that they were little likely to be molested by any of the nomad indians, the whole company rejoiced in feeling that they were well armed, and they resolved to keep in a compact body. the way across the forest could scarcely be called a path; it was, in fact, little more than the track of animals, and progress along it was necessarily very slow; indeed it seemed impossible, at the rate they started, to accomplish more than five or six miles in the course of twelve hours. the weather was beautifully fine; the sun ascended nearly to the zenith, and its rays, descending almost perpendicularly, caused a degree of heat which, as harris pointed out, would have been unendurable upon the open plain, but was here pleasantly tempered by the shelter of the foliage. most of the trees were quite strange to them. to an experienced eye they were such as were remarkable more for their character then for their size. here, on one side, was the bauhinia, or mountain ebony; there, on the other, the molompi or pterocarpus, its trunk exuding large quantities of resin, and of which the strong light wood makes excellent oars or paddles; further on were fustics heavily charged with colouring matter, and guaiacums, twelve feet in diameter, surpassing the ordinary kind in magnitude, yet far inferior in quality. dick sands kept perpetually asking harris to tell him the names of all these trees and plants. "have you never been on the coast of south america before?" replied harris, without giving the explicit information that was sought. "never," said dick; "never before. nor do i recollect ever having seen any one who has." "but surely you have explored the coasts of columbia or patagonia," harris continued. dick avowed that he had never had the chance. "but has mrs. weldon never visited these parts? our countrymen, i know, are great travellers." "no," answered mrs. weldon; "my husband's business called him occasionally to new zealand, but i have accompanied him nowhere else. with this part of lower bolivia we are totally unacquainted." "then, madam, i can only assure you that you will see a most remarkable country, in every way a very striking contrast to the regions of peru, brazil, and the argentine republic. its animal and vegetable products would fill a naturalist with unbounded wonder. may i not declare it a lucky chance that has brought you here?" "do not say chance, mr. harris, if you please." "well, then, madam; providence, if you prefer it," said harris, with the air of a man incapable of recognizing the distinction. after finding that there was no one amongst them who was acquainted in any way with the country through which they were travelling, harris seemed to exhibit an evident pleasure in pointing out and describing by name the various wonders of the forest. had cousin benedict's attainments included a knowledge of botany he would have found himself in a fine field for researches, and might perchance have discovered novelties to which his own name could be appended in the catalogues of science. but he was no botanist; in fact, as a rule, he held all blossoms in aversion, on the ground that they entrapped insects into their corollæ, and poisoned them sometimes with venomous juices. new and rare insects, however, seemed hereabouts to be wanting. occasionally the soil became marshy, and they all had to wend their way over a perfect network of tiny rivulets that were affluents of the river from which they had started. sometimes these rivulets were so wide that they could not be passed without a long search for some spot where they could be forded; their banks were all very damp, and in many places abounded with a kind of reed, which harris called by its proper name of papyrus. as soon as the marshy district had been passed, the forest resumed its original aspect, the footway becoming narrow as ever. harris pointed out some very fine ebony-trees, larger than the common sort, and yielding a wood darker and more durable than what is ordinarily seen in the market. there were also more mango-trees than might have been expected at this distance from the sea; a beautiful white lichen enveloped their trunks like a fur; but in spite of their luxuriant foliage and delicious fruit, harris said that there was not a native who would venture to propagate the species, as the superstition of the country is that "whoever plants a mango, dies!" [illustration: occasionally the soil became marshy.] at noon a halt was made for the purpose of rest and refreshment. during the afternoon they arrived at some gently rising ground, not the first slopes of hills, but an insulated plateau which appeared to unite mountains and plains. notwithstanding that the trees were far less crowded and more inclined to grow in detached groups, the numbers of herbaceous plants with which the soil was covered rendered progress no less difficult than it was before. the general aspect of the scene was not unlike an east indian jungle. less luxuriant indeed than in the lower valley of the river, the vegetation was far more abundant than that of the temperate zones either of the old or new continents. indigo grew in great profusion, and, according to harris's representation, was the most encroaching plant in the whole country; no sooner, he said, was a field left untilled, than it was overrun by this parasite, which sprang up with the rank growth of thistles or nettles. one tree which might have been expected to be common in this part of the continent seemed entirely wanting. this was the caoutchouc. of the various trees from which india-rubber is procured, such as the ficus prinoides, the castilioa elastica, the cecropia peltata, the callophora utilis, the cameraria latifolia, and especially the siphonia elastica, all of which abound in the provinces of south america, not a single specimen was to be seen. dick had promised to show jack an india-rubber-tree, and the child, who had conjured up visions of squeaking dolls, balls, and other toys growing upon its branches, was loud and constant in his expressions of disappointment. "never mind, my little man," said harris; "have patience, and you shall see hundreds of india-rubber-trees when you get to the hacienda." "and will they be nice and elastic?" asked jack, whose ideas upon the subject were of the vaguest order. "oh, yes, they will stretch as long as you like," harris answered, laughing. "but here is something to amuse you," he added, and as he spoke, he gathered a fruit that looked as tempting as a peach. "you are quite sure that it is safe to give it him?" said mrs. weldon anxiously. "to satisfy you, madam, i will eat one first myself." the example he set was soon followed by all the rest. the fruit was a mango; that which had been so opportunely discovered was of the sort that ripens in march or april; there is a later kind which ripens in september. with his mouth full of juice, jack pronounced that it was very nice, but did not seem to be altogether diverted from his sense of disappointment at not coming to an india-rubber-tree. evidently the little man thought himself rather injured. "and dick promised me some humming-birds too!" he murmured. "plenty of humming-birds for you, when you get to the farm; lots of them where my brother lives," said harris. and to say the truth, there was nothing extravagant in the way the child's anticipations had been raised, for in bolivia humming-birds are found in great abundance. the indians, who weave their plumage into all kinds of artistic designs, have bestowed the most poetical epithets upon these gems of the feathered race. they call them "rays of the sun," and "tresses of the day-star;" at one time they will describe them as "king of flowers," at another as "blossoms of heaven kissing blossoms of earth," or as "the jewel that reflects the sunbeam." in fact their imagination seems to have shaped a suitable distinction for almost every one of the known species of this dazzling little beauty. but however numerous humming-birds might be expected to be in the bolivian forest, they proved scarce enough at present, and jack had to content himself with harris's representations that they did not like solitude, but would be found plentifully at san felice, where they would be heard all day long humming like a spinning-wheel. already jack said he longed to be there, a wish that was so unanimously echoed by all the rest, that they resolved that no stoppage should be allowed beyond what was absolutely indispensable. after a time the forest began to alter its aspect. the trees were even less crowded, opening now and then into wide glades. the soil, cropping up above its carpet of verdure, exhibited veins of rose granite and syenite, like plates of lapis lazuli; on some of the higher ground, the fleshy tubers of the sarsaparilla plant, growing in a hopeless entanglement, made progress a matter of still greater difficulty than in the narrow tracks of the dense forest. at sunset the travellers found that they had accomplished about eight miles from their starting-point. they could not prognosticate what hardships might be in store for them on future days, but it was certain that the experiences of the first day had been neither eventful nor very fatiguing. it was now unanimously agreed that they should make a halt for the night, and as little was to be apprehended from the attacks either of man or beast, it was considered unnecessary to form anything like a regular encampment. one man on guard, to be relieved every few hours, was presumed to be sufficient. admirable shelter was offered by an enormous mango, the spreading foliage of which formed a kind of natural verandah, sweeping the ground so thoroughly that any one who chose could find sleeping-quarters in its very branches. simultaneously with the halting of the party there was heard a deafening tumult in the upper boughs. the mango was the roosting place of a colony of grey parrots, a noisy, quarrelsome, and rapacious race, of whose true characteristics the specimens seen in confinement in europe give no true conception. their screeching and chattering were such a nuisance that dick sands wanted to fire a shot into the middle of them, but harris seriously dissuaded him, urging that the report of firearms would only serve to reveal their own presence, whilst their greatest safety lay in perfect silence. supper was prepared. there was little need of cooking. the meal, as before, consisted of preserved meat and biscuit. fresh water, which they flavoured with a few drops of rum, was obtained from an adjacent stream which trickled through the grass. by way of dessert they had an abundance of ripe mangoes, and the only drawback to their general enjoyment was the discordant outcry which the parrots kept up, as it were in protest against the invasion of what they held to be their own rightful domain. it was nearly dark when supper was ended. the evening shade crept slowly upwards to the tops of the trees, which soon stood out in sharp relief against the lighter background of the sky, while the stars, one by one, began to peep. the wind dropped, and ceased to murmur through the foliage; to the general relief, the parrots desisted from their clatter; and as nature hushed herself to rest, she seemed to be inviting all her children to follow her example. "had we not better light a good large fire?" asked dick. "by no means," said harris; "the nights are not cold, and under this wide-spreading mango the ground is not likely to be damp. besides, as i have told you before, our best security consists in our taking care to attract no attention whatever from without." mrs. weldon interposed,-- "it may be true enough that we have nothing to dread from the indians, but is it certain that there are no dangerous quadrupeds against which we are bound to be upon our guard?" harris answered,-- "i can positively assure you, madam, that there are no animals here but such as would be infinitely more afraid of you than you would be of them." "are there any woods without wild beasts?" asked jack. "all woods are not alike, my boy," replied harris; "this wood is a great park. as the indians say, 'es como el pariso;' it is like paradise." jack persisted,-- "there must be snakes, and lions, and tigers." "ask your mamma, my boy," said harris, "whether she ever heard of lions and tigers in america?" mrs. weldon was endeavouring to put her little boy at his ease on this point, when cousin benedict interposed, saying that although there were no lions or tigers, there were plenty of jaguars and panthers in the new world. "and won't they kill us?" demanded jack eagerly, his apprehensions once more aroused. "kill you?" laughed harris; "why, your friend hercules here could strangle them, two at a time, one in each hand!" "but, please, don't let the panthers come near me!" pleaded jack, evidently alarmed. "no, no, master jack, they shall not come near you. i will give them a good grip first," and the giant displayed his two rows of huge white teeth. dick sands proposed that it should be the four younger negroes who should be assigned the task of keeping watch during the night, in attendance upon himself; but actæon insisted so strongly upon the necessity of dick's having his full share of rest, that the others were soon brought to the same conviction, and dick was obliged to yield. jack valiantly announced his intention of taking one watch, but his sleepy eyelids made it only too plain that he did not know the extent of his own fatigue. "i am sure there are wolves here," he said. "only such wolves as dingo would swallow at a mouthful," said harris. "but i am sure there are wolves," he insisted, repeating the word "wolves" again and again, until he tumbled off to sleep against the side of old nan. mrs. weldon gave her little son a silent kiss; it was her loving "good night." cousin benedict was missing. some little time before, he had slipped away in search of "cocuyos," or fire-flies, which he had heard were common in south america. those singular insects emit a bright bluish light from two spots on the side of the thorax, and their colours are so brilliant that they are used as ornaments for ladies' headdresses. hoping to secure some specimens for his box, benedict would have wandered to an unlimited distance; but hercules, faithful to his undertaking, soon discovered him, and heedless of the naturalist's protestations and vociferations, promptly escorted him back to the general rendezvous. hercules himself was the first to keep watch, but with this exception, the whole party, in another hour, were wrapped in peaceful slumber. [illustration: hercules himself was the first to keep watch.] chapter xvii misgivings. most travellers who have passed a night in a south american forest have been roused from their slumbers by a _matinée musicale_ more fantastic than melodious, performed by monkeys, as their ordinary greeting of the dawn. the yelling, chattering, screeching, howling, all unite to form a chorus almost unearthly in its hideousness. amongst the various specimens of the numerous family of the quadrumana ought to be recognized the little marikina; the sagouin, with its parti-coloured face; the grey mora, the skin of which is used by the indians for covering their gun-locks; the sapajou, with its singular tuft over the forehead, and, most remarkable of all, the guariba (_simia beelzebul_) with its prehensile tail and diabolical countenance. at the first streak of daylight the senior member, as choragus, will start the key-note in a sonorous barytone, the younger monkeys join in tenor and alto, and the concert begins. but this morning there was no concert at all. there was nothing of the wonted serenade to break the silence of the forest. the shrill notes resulting from the rapid vibration of the hyoid bones of the throat were not to be heard. indians would have been disappointed and perplexed; they are very fond of the flesh of the guariba when smoked and dried, and they would certainly have missed the chant of the monkey "paternosters;" but dick sands and his companions were unfamiliar with any of these things, and accordingly the singular quietude was to them a matter of no surprise. they all awoke much refreshed by their night's rest, which there had been nothing to disturb. jack was by no means the latest in opening his eyes, and his first words were addressed to hercules, asking him whether he had caught a wolf with his teeth. hercules had to acknowledge that he had tasted nothing all night, and declared himself quite ready for breakfast. the whole party were unanimous in this respect, and after a brief morning prayer, breakfast was expeditiously served by old nan. the meal was but a repetition of the last evening's supper, but with their appetites sharpened by the fresh forest air, and anxious to fortify themselves for a good day's march, they did not fail to do ample justice to their simple fare. even cousin benedict, for once in his life at least, partook of his food as if it were not utterly a matter of indifference to him; but he grumbled very much at the restraint to which he considered himself subjected; he could not see the good of coming to such a country as this, if he were to be obliged to walk about with his hands in his pockets; and he protested that if hercules did not leave him alone and permit him to catch fire-flies, there would be a bone to pick between them. hercules did not look very much alarmed at the threat. mrs. weldon, however, took him aside, and telling him that she did not wish to deprive the enthusiast entirely of his favourite occupation, instructed him to allow her cousin as much liberty as possible, provided he did not lose sight of him. the morning meal was over, and it was only seven o'clock when the travellers were once more on their way towards the east, preserving the same marching-order as on the day before. the path was still through luxuriant forest. the vegetable kingdom reigned supreme. as the plateau was immediately adjacent to tropical latitudes, the sun's rays during the summer months descended perpendicularly upon the virgin soil, and the vast amount of heat thus obtained combined with the abundant moisture retained in the subsoil, caused vegetation to assume a character which was truly magnificent. dick sands could not overcome a certain sense of mystification. here they were, as harris told them, in the region of the pampas, a word which he knew in the quichna dialect signifies "a plain;" but he had always read that these plains were characterized by a deficiency alike of water, of trees, and rocks; he had always understood that during the rainy season, thistles spring up in great abundance and grow until they form thickets that are well-nigh impenetrable; he had imagined that the few dwarf trees and prickly shrubs that exist during the summer only stamp the general scene with an aspect of yet more thorough bareness and desolation. but how different was everything to all this! the forest never ceased to stretch away interminably to the horizon. there were no tokens of the rough nakedness that he had expected. dick seemed to be driven to the conclusion that harris was right in describing this plateau of atacama, which he had for his part most firmly believed to be a vast desert between the andes and the pacific, as a region that was quite exceptional in its natural features. it was not in dick's character to keep his reflections to himself. in the course of the morning he expressed his extreme surprise at finding the pampas answer so little to his preconceived ideas. "have i not understood correctly," he said, "that the pampas is similar to the north american savannahs, only less marshy?" harris replied that such was indeed a correct description of the pampas of rio colorado, and the ilanos of venezuela and the orinoco. "but," he continued, "i own i am as much astonished as yourself at the character of this region; i have never crossed the plateau before, and i must confess it is altogether different to what you find beyond the andes towards the atlantic." "you don't mean that we are going to cross the andes?" said dick, in sudden alarm. harris smiled. "no, no, indeed. with our limited means of transport such an undertaking would have been rash in the extreme. we had better have kept to the coast for ever rather than incur such a risk. our destination, san felice, is on this side of the range, and in order to reach it, we shall not have to leave the plateau, of which the greatest elevation is but little over feet." "and you say," dick persisted, "that you have really no fear of losing your way in a forest such as this, a forest into which you have never set foot before?" "no fear whatever," harris answered; "so accustomed am i to travelling of this kind, that i can steer my way by a thousand signs revealing themselves in the growth of the trees, and in the composition of the soil, which would never present themselves to your notice. i assure you that i anticipate no difficulties." this conversation was not heard by any of the rest of the party. harris seemed to speak as frankly as he did fearlessly, and dick felt that there might be, after all, no just grounds for any of his own misgivings. five days passed by, and the th of april arrived without any special incident. nine miles had been the average distance accomplished in a day; regular periods of rest had been taken, and, except that jack's spirits had somewhat flagged, the fatigue did not seem to have interfered with the general good health of the travellers. first disappointed of his india-rubber-tree, and then of his humming birds, jack had inquired about the beautiful parrots which he had been led to expect he should see in this wonderful forest. where were the bright green macaws? where were the gaudy aras with their bare white cheeks and pointed tails, which seem never to light upon the ground? and where, too, were all the brilliant parroquets, with their feathered faces, and indeed the whole variety of those forest chatterers of which the indians affirm that they speak the language of nations long extinct? it is true that there was no lack of the common grey parrots with crimson tails, but these were no novelty; jack had seen plenty of them before, for owing to their reputation of being the most clever in mimickry of the psittacidæ, they have been domesticated everywhere in both the old and new worlds. [illustration: "don't fire!"] but jack's dissatisfaction was nothing compared to cousin benedict's. in spite of being allowed to wander away from the rank, he had failed to discover a single insect which was worth the pursuit; not even a fire-fly danced at night; nature seemed to be mocking him, and his ill-humour increased accordingly. in this way the journey was continued for four days longer, and on the th it was estimated that they must have travelled between eighty and ninety miles north-eastwards from the coast. harris positively asserted that they could not be much more than twenty miles from san felice, and that by pushing forwards they might expect in eight-and-forty hours to find themselves lodged in comfortable quarters. but although they had thus succeeded in traversing this vast table-land, they had not seen one human inhabitant. dick was more than ever perplexed, and it was a subject of bitter regret to him that they had not stranded upon some more frequented part of the shore, near some village or plantation where mrs. weldon might long since have found a suitable refuge. deserted, however, as the country apparently was by man, it had latterly shown itself much more abundantly tenanted by animals. many a time a long, plaintive cry was heard, which harris attributed to the tardigrades or sloths often found in wooded districts, and known by the name of "ais;" and in the middle of the dinner-halt on this day, a loud hissing suddenly broke upon the air which made mrs. weldon start to her feet in alarm. "a serpent!" cried dick, catching up his loaded gun. the negroes, following dick's example, were in a moment on the alert. "don't fire!" cried harris. there was indeed nothing improbable in the supposition that a "sucuru," a species of boa, sometimes measuring forty feet in length, had just moved itself in the long grass at their side, but harris affirmed that the "sucuru" never hisses, and declared that the noise had really come from animals of an entirely inoffensive character. "what animals?" asked dick, always eager for information, which it must be granted harris seemed always equally anxious to give. "antelopes," replied harris; "but, hush! not a sound, or you will frighten them away." "antelopes!" cried dick; "i must see them; i must get close to them." "more easily said than done," answered harris, shaking his head; but dick was not to be diverted from his purpose, and, gun in hand, crept into the grass. he had not advanced many yards before a herd of about a dozen gazelles, graceful in body, with short, pointed horns, dashed past him like a glowing cloud, and disappeared in the underwood without giving him time to take a shot. "i told you beforehand what you would have to expect," said harris, as dick, with a considerable sense of disappointment, returned to the party. impossible, however, as it had been fairly to scrutinize the antelopes, such was hardly the case with another herd of animals, the identification of which led to a somewhat singular discussion between harris and the rest. about four o'clock on the afternoon of the same day, the travellers were halting for a few moments near an opening in the forest, when three or four large animals emerged from a thicket about a hundred paces ahead, and scampered off at full speed. in spite of what harris had urged, dick put his gun to his shoulder, and was on the very point of firing, when harris knocked the rifle quickly aside. "they were giraffes!" shouted dick. the announcement awakened the curiosity of jack, who quickly scrambled to his feet upon the saddle on which he was lounging. "my dear dick," said mrs. weldon, "there are no giraffes in america!" [illustration: a herd of gazelles dashed past him like a glowing cloud.] "certainly not," cried harris; "they were not giraffes, they were ostriches which you saw!" "ostriches with four legs! that will never do! what do you say. mrs. weldon?" mrs. weldon replied that she had certainly taken the animals for quadrupeds, and all the negroes were under the same impression. laughing heartily, harris said it was far from an uncommon thing for an inexperienced eye to mistake a large ostrich for a small giraffe; the shape of both was so similar, that it often quite escaped observation as to whether the long necks terminated in a beak or a muzzle; besides, what need of discussion could there be when the fact was established that giraffes are unknown in the new world? the reasoning was plausible enough, and mrs weldon and the negroes were soon convinced. but dick was far from satisfied. "i did not know that there was an american ostrich!" he again objected. "oh, yes," replied harris promptly, "there is a species called the nandu, which is very well known here; we shall probably see some more of them." the statement was correct; the nandu is common in the plains of south america, and is distinguished from the african ostrich by having three toes, all furnished with claws. it is a fine bird, sometimes exceeding six feet in height; it has a short beak, and its wings are furnished with blue-grey plumes. harris appeared well acquainted with the bird, and proceeded to give a very precise account of its habits. in concluding his remarks, he again pressed upon dick his most urgent request that he should abstain from firing upon any animal whatever. it was of the utmost consequence. dick made no reply. he was silent and thoughtful. grave doubts had arisen in his mind, and he could neither explain nor dispel them. when the march was resumed on the following day, harris asserted his conviction that another four-and-twenty hours would bring them to the hacienda. "and there, madam," he said, addressing mrs. weldon, "we can offer you every essential comfort, though you may not find the luxuries of your own home in san francisco." mrs. weldon repeated her expression of gratitude for the proffered hospitality, owning that she should now be exceedingly glad to reach the farm, as she was anxious about her little son, who appeared to be threatened with the symptoms of incipient fever. harris could not deny that although the climate was usually very healthy, it nevertheless did occasionally produce a kind of intermittent fever during march and april. "but nature has provided the proper remedy," said dick; and perceiving that harris did not comprehend his meaning, he continued, "are we not in the region of the quinquinas, the bark of which is notoriously the medicine with which attacks of fever are usually treated? for my part, i am amazed that we have not seen numbers of them already." "ah! yes, yes; i know what you mean," answered harris, after a moment's hesitation; "they are trees, however, not always easy to find; they rarely grow in groups, and in spite of their large leaves and fragrant red blossom, the indians themselves often have a difficulty in recognizing them; the feature that distinguishes them most is their evergreen foliage." at mrs. weldon's request, harris promised to point out the tree if he should see one, but added that when she reached the hacienda, she would be able to obtain some sulphate of quinine, which was much more efficacious than the unprepared bark.[ ] [footnote : this bark was formerly, reduced to powder, known as "pulvis jesuiticus," because in the year the jesuits in rome imported a large quantity of it from their missionaries in south america.] the day passed without further incident. no rain had fallen at present, though the warm mist that rose from the soil betokened an approaching change of weather; the rainy season was certainly not far distant, but to travellers who indulged the expectation of being in a few hours in a place of shelter, this was not a matter of great concern. [illustration: a halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty trees.] evening came, and a halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty trees. if harris had not miscalculated, they could hardly be more than about six miles from their destination; so confirmed, however, was dick sands in his strange suspicions, that nothing could induce him to relax any of the usual precautions, and he particularly insisted upon the negroes, turn by turn, keeping up the accustomed watch. worn out by fatigue, the little party were glad to lie down, but they had scarcely dropped off to sleep when they were aroused by a sharp cry. "who's that? who's there? what's the matter?" exclaimed dick, the first to rise to his feet. "it is i," answered benedict's voice; "i am bitten. something has bitten me." "a snake!" exclaimed mrs. weldon in alarm. "no, no, cousin, better than that! it was not a snake; i believe it was an orthoptera; i have it all right," he shouted triumphantly. "then kill it quickly, sir; and let us go to sleep again in peace," said harris. "kill it! not for the world! i must have a light, and look at it!" dick sands indulged him, for reasons of his own, in getting a light. the entomologist carefully opened his hand and displayed an insect somewhat smaller than a bee, of a dull colour, streaked with yellow on the under portion of the body. he looked radiant with delight. "a diptera!" he exclaimed, half beside himself with joy, "a most famous diptera!" "is it venomous?" asked mrs. weldon. "not at all to men; it only hurts elephants and buffaloes." "but tell us its name! what is it?" cried dick impetuously. the naturalist began to speak in a slow, oracular tone. "this insect is here a prodigy; it is an insect totally unknown in this country,--in america." "tell us its name!" roared dick. "it is a tzetzy, sir, a true tzetzy." dick's heart sank like a stone. he was speechless. he did not, dared not, ask more. only too well he knew where the tzetzy could alone be found. he did not close his eyes again that night. chapter xviii. a terrible discovery. the morning of the th dawned, the day on which, according to harris's prediction, the travellers were to be safely housed at san felice. mrs. weldon was really much relieved at the prospect, for she was aware that her strength must prove inadequate to the strain of a more protracted journey. the condition of her little boy, who was alternately flushed with fever, and pale with exhaustion, had begun to cause her great anxiety, and unwilling to resign the care of the child even to nan his faithful nurse, she insisted upon carrying him in her own arms. twelve days and nights, passed in the open air, had done much to try her powers of endurance, and the charge of a sick child in addition would soon break down her strength entirely. dick sands, nan, and the negroes had all borne the march very fairly. their stock of provisions, though of course considerably diminished, was still far from small. as for harris, he had shown himself pre-eminently adapted for forest-life, and capable of bearing any amount of fatigue. yet, strange to say, as he approached the end of the journey, his manner underwent a remarkable change; instead of conversing in his ordinary frank and easy way, he became silent and preoccupied, as if engrossed in his own thoughts. perhaps he had an instinctive consciousness that "his young friend," as he was in the habit of addressing dick, was entertaining hard suspicions about him. the march was resumed. the trees once again ceased to be crowded in impenetrable masses, but stood in clusters at considerable distances apart. now, dick tried to argue with himself, they must be coming to the true pampas, or the man must be designedly misleading them; and yet what motive could he have? although during the earlier part of the day there occurred nothing that could be said absolutely to justify dick's increasing uneasiness, two circumstances transpired which did not escape his observation, and which, he felt, might be significant. the first of these was a sudden change in dingo's behaviour. the dog, throughout the march, had uniformly run along with his nose upon the ground, smelling the grass and shrubs, and occasionally uttering a sad low whine; but to-day he seemed all agitation; he scampered about with bristling coat, with his head erect, and ever and again burst into one of those furious fits of barking, with which he had formerly been accustomed to greet negoro's appearance upon the deck of the "pilgrim." the idea that flitted across dick's mind was shared by tom. "look, mr. dick, look at dingo; he is at his old ways again," said he; "it is just as if negoro...." "hush!" said dick to the old man, who continued in a lower voice,-- "it is just as if negoro had followed us; do you think it is likely?" "it might perhaps be to his advantage to follow us, if he doesn't know the country; but if he does know the country, why then...." dick did not finish his sentence, but whistled to dingo. the dog reluctantly obeyed the call. as soon as the dog was at his side, dick patted him, repeating,-- "good dog! good dingo! where's negoro?" the sound of negoro's name had its usual effect; it seemed to irritate the animal exceedingly, and he barked furiously, and apparently wanted to dash into the thicket. harris had been an interested spectator of the scene, and now approached with a peculiar expression on his countenance, and inquired what they were saying to dingo. "oh, nothing much," replied tom; "we were only asking him for news of a lost acquaintance." "ah, i suppose you mean that portuguese cook of yours." "yes," answered tom; "we fancied from dingo's behaviour, that negoro must be somewhere close at hand." "why don't you send and search the underwood? perhaps the poor wretch is in distress." "no need of that, mr. harris; negoro, i have no doubt, is quite capable of taking care of himself." "well, just as you please, my young friend," said harris, with an air of indifference. dick turned away; he continued his endeavours to pacify dingo, and the conversation dropped. the other thing that had arrested dick's attention was the behaviour of the horse. if they had been as near the hacienda as harris described, would not the animal have pricked up its ears, sniffed the air, and with dilated nostril, exhibited some sign of satisfaction, as being upon familiar ground? but nothing of the kind was to be observed; the horse plodded along as unconcernedly as if a stable were as far away as ever. even mrs. weldon was not so engrossed with her child, but what she was fain to express her wonder at the deserted aspect of the country. no trace of a farm-labourer was anywhere to be seen! she cast her eye at harris, who was in his usual place in front, and observing how he was looking first to the left, and then to the right, with the air of a man who was uncertain of his path, she asked herself whether it was possible their guide might have lost his way. she dared not entertain the idea, and averted her eyes, that she might not be harassed by his movements. after crossing an open plain about a mile in width, the travellers once again entered the forest, which resumed something of the same denseness that had characterized it farther to the west. in the course of the afternoon, they came to a spot which was marked very distinctly by the vestiges of some enormous animals, which must have passed quite recently. as dick looked carefully about him, he observed that the branches were all torn off or broken to a considerable height, and that the foot-tracks in the trampled grass were much too large to be those either of jaguars or panthers. even if it were possible that the prints on the ground had been made by ais or other taidigrades, this would fail to account in the least for the trees being broken to such a height. elephants alone were capable of working such destruction in the underwood, but elephants were unknown in america. dick was puzzled, but controlled himself so that he would not apply to harris for any enlightenment; his intuition made him aware that a man who had once tried to make him believe that giraffes were ostriches, would not hesitate a second time to impose upon his credulity. more than ever was dick becoming convinced that harris was a traitor, and he was secretly prompted to tax him with his treachery. still he was obliged to own that he could not assign any motive for the man acting in such a manner with the survivors of the "pilgrim," and consequently hesitated before he actually condemned him for conduct so base and heartless. what could be done? he repeatedly asked himself. on board ship the boy captain might perchance have been able to devise some plan for the safety of those so strangely committed to his charge, but here on an unknown shore, he could only suffer from the burden of this responsibility the more, because he was so utterly powerless to act. he made up his mind on one point. he determined not to alarm the poor anxious mother a moment before he was actually compelled. it was his carrying out this determination that explained why on subsequently arriving at a considerable stream, where he saw some huge heads, swollen muzzles, long tusks and unwieldy bodies rising from amidst the rank wet grass, he uttered no word and gave no gesture of surprise; but only too well he knew, at a glance, that he must be looking at a herd of hippopotamuses. [illustration: "look here! here are hands, men's hands."] it was a weary march that day; a general feeling of depression spread involuntarily from one to another; hardly conscious to herself of her weariness, mrs. weldon was exhibiting manifest symptoms of lassitude; and it was only dick's moral energy and sense of duty that kept him from succumbing to the prevailing dejection. about four o'clock, tom noticed something lying in the grass, and stooping down he picked up a kind of knife; it was of peculiar shape, being very wide and flat in the blade, while its handle, which was of ivory, was ornamented with a good deal of clumsy carving. he carried it at once to dick, who, when he had scrutinized it, held it up to harris, with the remark,-- "there must be natives not far off." "quite right, my young friend; the hacienda must be a very few miles away,--but yet, but yet...." he hesitated. "you don't mean that you are not sure of your way," said dick sharply. "not exactly that," replied harris; "yet in taking this short cut across the forest, i am inclined to think i am a mile or so out of the way. perhaps i had better walk on a little way, and look about me." "no; you do not leave us here," cried dick firmly. "not against your will; but remember, i do not undertake to guide you in the dark." "we must spare you the necessity for that. i can answer for it that mrs. weldon will raise no objection to spending another night in the open air. we can start off to-morrow morning as early as we like, and if the distance be only what you represent, a few hours will easily accomplish it." "as you please," answered harris with cold civility. just then, dingo again burst out into a vehement fit of barking, and it required no small amount of coaxing on dick's part to make him cease from his noise. it was decided that the halt should be made at once. mrs. weldon, as it had been anticipated, urged nothing against it, being preoccupied by her immediate attentions to jack, who was lying in her arms, suffering from a decided attack of fever. the shelter of a large thicket had just been selected by dick as a suitable resting-place for the night, when tom, who was assisting in the necessary preparations, suddenly gave a cry of horror. "what is it, tom?" asked dick very calmly. "look! look at these trees! they are spattered with blood! and look here! here are hands, men's hands, cut off and lying on the ground!" "what?" cried dick, and in an instant was at his side. his presence of mind did not fail him; he whispered,-- "hush! tom! hush! not a word!" but it was with a shudder that ran through his veins that he witnessed for himself the mutilated fragments of several human bodies, and saw, lying beside them, some broken forks, and some bits of iron chain. the sight of the gory remains made dingo bark ferociously, and dick, who was most anxious that mrs. weldon's attention should not be called to the discovery, had the greatest difficulty in driving him back; but fortunately the lady's mind was so engrossed with her patient, that she did not observe the commotion. harris stood aloof; there was no one to notice the change that passed over his countenance, but the expression was almost diabolical in its malignity. poor old tom himself seemed perfectly spell-bound. with his hands clenched, his eyes dilated, and his breast heaving with emotion, he kept repeating without anything like coherence, the words,-- "forks! chains! forks! ... long ago ... remember ... too well ... chains!" "for mrs. weldon's sake, tom, hold your tongue!" dick implored him. tom, however, was full with some remembrance of the past; he continued to repeat,-- "long ago ... forks ... chains!" until dick led him out of hearing. a fresh halting-place was chosen a short distance further on, and supper was prepared. but the meal was left almost untasted; not so much that hunger had been overcome by fatigue, but because the indefinable feeling of uneasiness, that had taken possession of them all, had entirely destroyed all appetite. [illustration: the man was gone, and his horse with him.] gradually the night became very dark. the sky was covered with heavy storm-clouds, and on the western horizon flashes of summer lightning now and then glimmered through the trees. the air was perfectly still; not a leaf stirred, and the atmosphere seemed so charged with electricity as to be incapable of transmitting sound of any kind. dick, himself, with austin and bat in attendance, remained on guard, all of them eagerly straining both eye and ear to catch any light or sound that might disturb the silence and obscurity. old tom, with his head sunk upon his breast, sat motionless, as in a trance; he was gloomily revolving the awakened memories of the past. mrs. weldon was engaged with her sick child. scarcely one of the party was really asleep, except indeed it might be cousin benedict, whose reasoning faculties were not of an order to carry him forwards into any future contingencies. midnight was still an hour in advance, when the dull air seemed filled with a deep and prolonged roar, mingled with a peculiar kind of vibration. tom started to his feet. a fresh recollection of his early days had struck him. "a lion! a lion!" he shouted. in vain dick tried to repress him; but he repeated,-- "a lion! a lion!" dick sands seized his cutlass, and, unable any longer to control his wrath, he rushed to the spot where he had left harris lying. the man was gone, and his horse with him! all the suspicions that had been so long pent up within dick's mind now shaped themselves into actual reality. a flood of light had broken in upon him. now he was convinced, only too certainly, that it was not the coast of america at all upon which the schooner had been cast ashore! it was not easter island that had been sighted far away in the west! the compass had completely deceived him; he was satisfied now that the strong currents had carried them quite round cape horn, and that they had really entered the atlantic. no wonder that quinquinas, caoutchouc, and other south american products, had failed to be seen. this was neither the bolivian pampas nor the plateau of atacama. they were giraffes, not ostriches, that had vanished down the glade; they were elephants that had trodden down the underwood; they were hippopotamuses that were lurking by the river; it was indeed the dreaded tzetsy that cousin benedict had so triumphantly discovered; and, last of all, it was a lion's roar that had disturbed the silence of the forest. that chain, that knife, those forks, were unquestionably the instruments of slave-dealers; and what could those mutilated hands be, except the relics of their ill-fated victims? harris and negoro must be in a conspiracy! it was with terrible anguish that dick gnashed his teeth and muttered,-- "yes, it is too true; we are in africa! in equatorial africa! in the land of slavery! in the very haunt of slave-drivers!" end of first part. ***** part the second. [illustration: west coast of central africa.] chapter i. the dark continent. the "slave-trade" is an expression that ought never to have found its way into any human language. after being long practised at a large profit by such european nations as had possessions beyond the seas, this abominable traffic has now for many years been ostensibly forbidden; yet even in the enlightenment of this nineteenth century, it is still largely carried on, especially in central africa, inasmuch as there are several states, professedly christian, whose signatures have never been affixed to the deed of abolition. incredible as it should seem, this barter of human beings still exists, and for the due comprehension of the second part of dick sands' story it must be borne in mind, that for the purpose of supplying certain colonies with slaves, there continue to be prosecuted such barbarous "man-hunts" as threaten almost to lay waste an entire continent with blood, fire, and pillage. the nefarious traffic as far as regards negroes does not appear to have arisen until the fifteenth century. the following are said to be the circumstances under which it had its origin. after being banished from spain, the mussulmans crossed the straits of gibraltar and took refuge upon the shores of africa, but the portuguese who then occupied that portion of the coast persecuted the fugitives with the utmost severity, and having captured them in large numbers, sent them as prisoners into portugal. they were thus the first nucleus of any african slaves that entered western europe since the commencement of the christian era. the majority, however, of these mussulmans were members of wealthy families, who were prepared to pay almost any amount of money for their release; but no ransom was exorbitant enough to tempt the portuguese to surrender them; more precious than gold were the strong arms that should work the resources of their young and rising colonies. thus baulked in their purpose of effecting a direct ransom of their captured relatives, the mussulman families next submitted a proposition for exchanging them for a larger number of african negroes, whom it would be quite easy to procure. the portuguese, to whom the proposal was in every way advantageous, eagerly accepted the offer; and in this way the slave-trade was originated in europe. by the end of the sixteenth century this odious traffic had become permanently established; in principle it contained nothing repugnant to the semi-barbarous thought and customs then existing; all the great states recognized it as the most effectual means of colonizing the islands of the new world, especially as slaves of negro blood, well acclimatized to tropical heat, were able to survive where white men must have perished by thousands. the transport of slaves to the american colonies was consequently regularly effected by vessels specially built for that purpose, and large dépôts for this branch of commerce were established at various points of the african coast. the "goods" cost comparatively little in production, and the profits were enormous. yet, after all, however indispensable it might be to complete the foundation of the trans-atlantic colonies, there was nothing to justify this shameful barter of human flesh and blood, and the voice of philanthropy began to be heard in protestation, calling upon all european governments, in the name of mercy and common humanity, to decree the abolition of the trade at once. in , the quakers put themselves at the head of the abolitionist movement in north america, that very land where, a hundred years later, the war of secession burst forth, in which the question of slavery bore the most conspicuous part. several of the northern states, virginia, connecticut, massachusetts, and pennsylvania prohibited the trade, liberating the slaves, in spite of the cost, who had been imported into their territories. the campaign, thus commenced, was not limited to a few provinces of the new world; on this side of the atlantic, too, the partisans of slavery were subject to a vigourous attack. england and france led the van, and energetically beat up recruits to serve the righteous cause. "let us lose our colonies rather than sacrifice our principles," was the magnanimous watchword that resounded throughout europe, and notwithstanding the vast political and commercial interests involved in the question, it did not go forth in vain. a living impulse had been communicated to the liberation-movement. in , england formally prohibited the slave-trade in her colonies; france following her example in . the two great nations then entered upon a treaty on the subject, which was confirmed by napoleon during the hundred days. hitherto, however, the declaration was purely theoretical. slave-ships continued to ply their illicit trade, discharging their living cargo at many a colonial port. it was evident that more resolute and practical measures must be taken to impress the enormity. accordingly the united states in , and great britain in , declared the slave-trade to be an act of piracy and its perpetrators to be punishable with death. france soon gave in her adherence to the new treaty, but the southern states of america, and the spanish and portuguese, not having signed the act of abolition, continued the importation of slaves at a great profit, and this in defiance of the recognized reciprocal right of visitation to verify the flags of suspected ships. but although the slave-trade by these measures was in a considerable measure reduced, it continued to exist; new slaves were not allowed, but the old ones did not recover their liberty. england was now the first to set a noble example. on the th of may, , an act of parliament, by a munificent vote of millions of pounds, emancipated all the negroes in the british colonies, and in august, , , slaves were declared free men. ten years later, in , the french republic liberated the slaves in her colonies to the number of , , and in the war which broke out between the federals and confederates in the united states finished the work of emancipation by extending it to the whole of north america. thus, three great powers have accomplished their task of humanity, and at the present time the slave-trade is carried on only for the advantage of the spanish and portuguese colonies, or to supply the requirements of the turkish or arab populations of the east. brazil, although she has not emancipated her former slaves, does not receive any new, and all negro children are pronounced free-born. in contrast, however, to all this, it is not to be concealed that, in the interior of africa, as the result of wars between chieftains waged for the sole object of making captives, entire tribes are often reduced to slavery, and are carried off in caravans in two opposite directions, some westwards to the portuguese colony of angola, others eastwards to mozambique. of these miserable creatures, of whom a very small proportion ever reach their destination, some are despatched to cuba or madagascar, others to the arab or turkish provinces of asia, to mecca or muscat. the french and english cruisers have practically very little power to control the iniquitous proceedings, because the extent of coast to be watched is so large that a strict and adequate surveillance cannot be maintained. the extent of the odious export is very considerable; no less than , slaves annually reach the coast, a number that hardly represents a tenth part of those who are massacred or otherwise perish by a deplorable end. after the frightful butcheries, the fields lie devastated, the smouldering villages are void of inhabitants, the rivers reek with bleeding corpses, and wild beasts take undisputed possession of the soil. livingstone, upon returning to a district, immediately after one of these ruthless raids, said that he could never have recognized it for the same that he had visited only a few months previously; and all other travellers, grant, speke, burton, cameron, stanley, describe the wooded plateau of central africa as the principal theatre of the barbarous warfare between chief and chief. in the region of the great lakes, throughout the vast district which feeds the market of zanzibar, in bornu and fezzan, further south on the banks of the nyassa and zambesi, further west in the districts of the upper zaire, just traversed by the intrepid stanley, everywhere there is the recurrence of the same scenes of ruin, slaughter, and devastation. ever and again the question seems to be forced upon the mind whether slavery is not to end in the entire annihilation of the negro race, so that, like the australian tribes of south holland, it will become extinct. who can doubt that the day must dawn which will herald the closing of the markets in the spanish and portuguese colonies, a day when civilized nations shall no longer tolerate the perpetration of this barbarous wrong? it is hardly too much to say that another year ought to witness the emancipation of every slave in the possession of christian states. it seems only too likely that for years to come the mussulman nations will continue to depopulate the continent of africa; to them is due the chief emigration of the natives, who, torn from their provinces, are sent to the eastern coast in numbers that exceed , annually. long before the egyptian expedition the natives of sennaar were sold to the natives of darfur and _vice versa_; and even napoleon buonaparte purchased a considerable number of negroes, whom he organized into regiments after the fashion of the mamelukes. altogether it may be affirmed, that although four-fifths of the present century have passed away, slave-traffic in africa has been increased rather than diminished. the truth is that islamism really nurtures the slave-trade. in mussulman provinces, the black slave has taken the place of the white slave of former times; dealers of the most questionable character bear their part in the execrable business, bringing a supplementary population to races which, unregenerated by their own labour, would otherwise diminish and ultimately disappear. as in the time of buonaparte, these slaves often become soldiers; on the upper niger, for instance, they still form half the army of certain chieftains, under circumstances in which their lot is hardly, if at all, inferior to that of free men. elsewhere, where the slave is not a soldier, he counts merely as current coin; and in bornu and even in egypt, we are told by william lejean, an eye-witness, that officers and other functionaries have received their pay in this form. such, then, appears to be the present actual condition of the slave-trade; and it is stern justice that compels the additional statement that there are representatives of certain great european powers who still favour the unholy traffic with an indulgent connivance, and whilst cruisers are watching the coasts of the atlantic and of the indian ocean, kidnapping goes on regularly in the interior, caravans pass along under the very eyes of certain officials, and massacres are perpetrated in which frequently ten negroes are sacrificed in the capture of a single slave. it was the knowledge, more or less complete, of all this, that wrung from dick sands his bitter and heart-rending cry:-- "we are in africa! in the very haunt of slave-drivers!" too true it was that he found himself and his companions in a land fraught with such frightful peril. he could only tremble when he wondered on what part of the fatal continent the "pilgrim" had stranded. evidently it was at some point of the west coast, and he had every reason to fear that it was on the shores of angola, the rendezvous for all the caravans that journey in that portion of africa. his conjecture was correct; he really was in the very country that a few years later and with gigantic effort was to be traversed by cameron in the south and stanley in the north. of the vast territory, with its three provinces, congo, angola, and benguela, little was then known except the coast. it extends from the zaire on the north to the nourse on the south, and its chief towns are the ports of benguela and of st. paul de loanda, the capital of the colony, which is a dependency of the kingdom of portugal. the interior of the country had been almost entirely unexplored. very few were the travellers who had cared to venture far inland, for an unhealthy climate, a hot, damp soil conducive to fever, a permanent warfare between the native tribes, some of which are cannibals, and the ill-feeling of the slave-dealers against any stranger who might endeavour to discover the secrets of their infamous craft, all combine to render the region one of the most hazardous in the whole of equatorial africa. it was in that tuckey ascended the congo as far as the yellala falls, a distance not exceeding miles; but the journey was too short to give an accurate idea of the interior of the country, and moreover cost the lives of nearly all the officers and scientific men connected with the expedition. thirty-seven years afterwards, dr. livingstone had advanced from the cape of good hope to the upper zambesi; thence, with a fearlessness hitherto unrivalled, he crossed the coango, an affluent of the congo, and after having traversed the continent from the extreme south to the east he reached st. paul de loanda on the st of may, , the first explorer of the unknown portions of the great portuguese colony. eighteen years elapsed, and two other bold travellers crossed the entire continent from east to west, and after encountering unparalleled difficulties, emerged, the one to the south, the other to the north of angola. the first of these was verney lovett cameron, a lieutenant in the british navy. in , when serious doubts were entertained as to the safety of the expedition sent out under stanley to the relief of livingstone in the great lake district, lieutenant cameron volunteered to go out in search of the noble missionary explorer. his offer was accepted, and accompanied by dr. dillon, lieutenant cecil murphy, and robert moffat, a nephew of livingstone, he started from zanzibar. having passed through ugogo, he met livingstone's corpse, which was being borne to the eastern coast by his faithful followers. unshaken in his resolve to make his way right across the continent, cameron still pushed onwards to the west. he passed through unyanyembe and uganda, and reached kawele, where he secured all livingstone's papers. after exploring lake tanganyika he crossed the mountains of bambarre, and finding himself unable to descend the course of the lualaba, he traversed the provinces devastated and depopulated by war and the slave-trade, kilemba, urua, the sources of the lomami, ulanda, and lovalé, and having crossed the coanza, he sighted the atlantic and reached the port of st. philip de benguela, after a journey that had occupied three years and five months. cameron's two companions, dr. dillon and robert moffat, both succumbed to the hardships of the expedition. the intrepid englishman was soon to be followed into the field by an american, mr. henry moreland stanley. it is universally known how the undaunted correspondent of the _new york herald_, having been despatched in search of livingstone, found the veteran missionary at ujiji, on the borders of lake tanganyika, on the st of october, . but what he had undertaken in the course of humanity stanley longed to continue in the interests of science, his prime object being to make a thorough investigation of the lualaba, of which, in his first expedition, he had only been able to get a partial and imperfect survey. accordingly, whilst cameron was still deep in the provinces of central africa, stanley started from bagamoyo in november, . twenty-one months later he quitted ujiji, which had been decimated by small-pox, and in seventy-four days accomplished the passage of the lake and reached nyangwe, a great slave-market previously visited both by livingstone and cameron. he was also present at some of the horrible razzias, perpetrated by the officers of the sultan of zanzibar in the districts of the marunzu and manyuema. in order to be in a position to descend the lualaba to its very mouth, stanley engaged at nyangwe porters and nineteen boats. difficulties arose from the very outset, and not only had he to contend with the cannibals of ugusu, but, in order to avoid many unnavigable cataracts, he had to convey his boats many miles by land. near the equator, just at the point where the lualaba turns north-north-west, stanley's little convoy was attacked by a fleet of boats, manned by several hundred natives, whom, however, he succeeded in putting to flight. nothing daunted, the resolute american pushed on to lat. ° n. and ascertained, beyond room for doubt, that the lualaba was really the upper zaire or congo, and that, by following its course, he should come directly to the sea. beset with many perils was the way. stanley was in almost daily collision with the various tribes upon the river-banks; on the rd of june, , he lost one of his companions, frank pocock, at the passage of the cataracts of massassa, and on the th of july he was himself carried in his boat into the mbelo falls, and escaped by little short of a miracle. on the th of august the daring adventurer arrived at the village of ni sanda, only four days from the sea; two days later he received a supply of provisions that had been sent by two emboma merchants to banza m'buko, the little coast-town where, after a journey of two years and nine months, fraught with every kind of hardship and privation, he completed his transit of the mighty continent. his toil told, at least temporarily, upon his years, but he had the grand satisfaction of knowing that he had traced the whole course of the lualaba, and had ascertained, beyond reach of question, that as the nile is the great artery of the north, and the zambesi of the east, so africa possesses in the west a third great river, which in a course of no less than miles, under the names of the lualaba, zaire, and congo, unites the lake district with the atlantic ocean. in , however, the date at which the "pilgrim" foundered upon the coast, very little was known of the province of angola, except that it was the scene of the western slave-trade, of which the markets of bihé, cassanga, and kazunde were the chief centres. this was the country in which dick sands now found himself, a hundred miles from shore, in charge of a lady exhausted with fatigue and anxiety, a half-dying child, and a band of negroes who would be a most tempting bait to the slave-driver. his last illusion was completely dispelled. he had no longer the faintest hope that he was in america, that land where little was to be dreaded from either native, wild beast, or climate; he could no more cherish the fond impression that he might be in the pleasant region between the cordilleras and the coast, where villages are numerous and missions afford hospitable shelter to every traveller. far, far away were those provinces of bolivia and peru, to which (unless a criminal hand had interposed) the "pilgrim" would certainly have sped her way. no: too truly this was the terrible province of angola; and worse than all, not the district near the coast, under the surveillance of the portuguese authorities, but the interior of the country, traversed only by slave caravans, driven under the lash of the havildars. limited, in one sense, was the knowledge that dick sands possessed of this land of horrors; but he had read the accounts that had been given by the missionaries of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, by the portuguese traders who frequented the route from st. paul de loanda, by san salvador to the zaire, as well as by dr. livingstone in his travels in , and consequently he knew enough to awaken immediate and complete despair in any spirit less indomitable than his own. anyhow, his position was truly appalling. [illustration: they were seated at the foot of an enormous banyan-tree.] chapter ii. accomplices. on the day following that on which dick sands and his party had made their last halt in the forest, two men met by appointment at a spot about three miles distant. the two men were harris and negoro, the one lately landed from new zealand, the other pursuing his wonted occupation of slave-dealer in the province of angola. they were seated at the foot of an enormous banyan-tree, on the banks of a rushing torrent that streamed between tall borders of papyrus. after the conversation had turned awhile upon the events of the last few hours, negoro said abruptly,-- "couldn't you manage to get that young fifteen-year-old any farther into the interior?" "no, indeed; it was a hard matter enough to bring him thus far; for the last few days his suspicions have been wide awake." "but just another hundred miles, you know," continued negoro, "would have finished the business off well, and those black fellows would have been ours to a dead certainty." "don't i tell you, my dear fellow, that it was more than time for me to give them the slip?" replied harris, shrugging his shoulders. "only too well i knew that our young friend was longing to put a shot into my body, and that was a sugar-plum i might not be able to digest." the portuguese gave a grunt of assent, and harris went on,-- "for several days i succeeded well enough. i managed to palm off the country as the forest of atacama, which you may recollect i once visited; but when the youngster began to ask for gutta-percha and humming-birds, and his mother wanted quinquina-trees, and when that old fool of a cousin was bent on finding cocuyos, i was rather nonplussed. one day i had to swear that giraffes were ostriches, but the young captain did not seem to swallow the dose at all easily. then we saw traces of elephants and hippopotamuses, which of course are as often seen in america as an honest man in a benguela penitentiary; then that old nigger tom discovered a lot of forks and chains left by some runaway slaves at the foot of a tree; but when, last of all, a lion roared,--and the noise, you know, is rather louder than the mewing of a cat,--i thought it was time to take my horse and decamp." negoro repeated his expression of regret that the whole party had not been carried another hundred miles into the province. "it really cannot be helped," rejoined the american; "i have done the best i could; and i think, mate," he added confidentially, "that you have done wisely in following the caravan at a good distance; that dog of theirs evidently owes you a grudge, and might prove an ugly customer." "i shall put a bullet into that beast's head before long," growled negoro. "take care you don't get one through your own first," laughed harris; "that young sands, i warn you, is a first-rate shot, and between ourselves, is rather a fine fellow of his kind." "fine fellow, indeed!" sneered negoro; "whatever he is, he is a young upstart, and i have a long score to wipe off against him;" and, as he spoke, an expression of the utmost malignity passed over his countenance. harris smiled. "well, mate," he said; "your travels have not improved your temper, i see. but come now, tell me what you have been doing all this time. when i found you just after the wreck, at the mouth of the longa, you had only time to ask me to get this party, somehow or other, up into the country. but it is just upon two years since you left cassange with that caravan of slaves for our old master alvez. what have you been doing since? the last i heard of you was that you had run foul of an english cruiser, and that you were condemned to be hanged." "so i was very nearly," muttered negoro. "ah, well, that will come sooner or later," rejoined the american with philosophic indifference; "men of our trade can't expect to die quietly in our beds, you know. but were you caught by the english?" "no, by the portuguese." "before you had got rid of your cargo?" negoro hesitated a moment before replying. "no," he said, presently, and added, "the portuguese have changed their game: for a long time they carried on the trade themselves, but now they have got wonderfully particular; so i was caught, and condemned to end my days in the penitentiary at st. paul de loanda." "confound it!" exclaimed harris, "a hundred times better be hanged!" "i'm not so sure of that," the portuguese replied, "for when i had been at the galleys about a fortnight i managed to escape, and got into the hold of an english steamer bound for new zealand. i wedged myself in between a cask of water and a case of preserved meat, and so managed to exist for a month. it was close quarters, i can tell you, but i preferred to travel incognito rather than run the risk of being handed over again to the authorities at loanda." "well done!" exclaimed the american, "and so you had a free passage to the land of the maoris. but you didn't come back in the same fashion?" "no; i always had a hankering to be here again at my old trade; but for a year and a half...." he stopped abruptly, and grasped harris by the arm. "hush," he whispered, "didn't you hear a rustling in that clump of papyrus?" in a moment harris had caught up his loaded gun; and both men, starting to their feet, looked anxiously around them. "it was nothing," said harris presently; "the stream is swollen by the storm, that is all; your two years' travelling has made you forget the sounds of the forest, mate. sit down again, and go on with your story. when i know the past, i shall be better able to talk about the future." they reseated themselves, and negoro went on,-- "for a whole year and a half i vegetated at auckland. i left the hold of the steamer without a dollar in my pocket, and had to turn my hand to every trade imaginable in order to get a living." "poor fellow! i daresay you even tried the trade of being an honest man," put in the american. "just so," said negoro, "and in course of time the 'pilgrim,' the vessel by which i came here, put in at auckland. while she was waiting to take mrs. weldon and her party on board, i applied to the captain for a post, for i was once mate on board a slaver, and know something of seamanship. the 'pilgrim's' crew was complete, but fortunately the ship's cook had just deserted; i offered to supply his place; in default of better my services were accepted, and in a few days we were out of sight of new zealand." "i have heard something about the voyage from young sands," said harris, "but even now i can't understand how you reached here." "neither does he," said negoro, with a malicious grin. "i will tell you now, and you may repeat the story to your young friend if you like." "well, go on," said harris. "when we started," continued negoro, "it was my intention to sail only as far as chili: that would have brought me nearly half way to angola; but three weeks after leaving auckland, captain hull and all his crew were lost in chasing a whale, and i and the apprentice were the only seamen left on board." "then why in the name of peace didn't you take command of the ship?" exclaimed harris. [illustration: both men, starting to their feet, looked anxiously around them.] "because there were five strong niggers who didn't trust me; so, on second thoughts, i determined to keep my old post as cook." "then do you mean to say that it was mere accident that brought you to the coast of africa?" "not a bit of it; the only accident,--and a very lucky one it was--was meeting you on the very spot where we stranded. but it was my doing that we got so far. young sands understood nothing more of navigation than the use of the log and compass. well, one fine day, you understand, the log remained at the bottom of the sea, and one night the compass was tampered with, so that the 'pilgrim,' scudding along before a tempest, was carried altogether out of her course. you may imagine the young captain was puzzled at the length of the voyage; it would have bewildered a more experienced head than his. before he was aware of it, we had rounded cape horn; i recognized it through the mist. then at once i put the compass to rights again, and the 'pilgrim' was carried north-eastwards by a tremendous hurricane to the very place i wanted. the island dick sands took for easter island was really tristan d'acunha." "good!" said harris; "i think i understand now how our friends have been persuaded to take angola for bolivia. but they are undeceived now, you know," he added. "i know all about that," replied the portuguese. "then what do you intend to do?" said harris. "you will see," answered negoro significantly; "but first of all tell me something about our employer, old alvez; how is he?" "oh, the old rascal is well enough, and will be delighted to see you again," replied harris. "is he at the market at bihé?" "no, he has been at his place at kazonndé for a year or more." "and how does business go on?" "badly enough, on this coast," said harris; "plenty of slaves are waiting to be shipped to the spanish colonies, but the difficulty is how to get them embarked. the portuguese authorities on the one hand, and the english cruisers on the other, almost put a stop to exportation altogether; down to the south, near mossamedes, is the only part where it can be attempted with any chance of success. to pass a caravan through benguela or loande is an utter impossibility; neither the governors nor the chefés[ ] will listen to a word of reason. old alvez is therefore thinking of going in the other direction towards nyangwe and lake tanganyika; he can there exchange his goods for slaves and ivory, and is sure to do a good business with upper egypt and the coast of mozambique, which supplies madagascar. but i tell you, negoro," he added gravely, "i believe the time is coming when the slave-trade will come to an end altogether. the english missionaries are advancing into the interior. that fellow livingstone, confound him! has finished his tour of the lakes, and is now working his way towards angola; then there is another man named cameron who is talking about crossing the continent from east to west, and it is feared that stanley the american will do the same. all this exploration, you know, is ruinous to our business, and it is to our interest that not one of these travellers should be allowed to return to tell tales of us in europe." [footnote : subordinate portuguese governors at secondary stations.] harris spoke like a merchant embarrassed by a temporary commercial crisis. the atrocious scenes to which the slave-dealers are accustomed seems to render them impervious to all sense of justice or humanity, and they learn to regard their living merchandize with as small concern as though they were dealing with chests of tea or hogsheads of sugar. but harris was right when he asserted that civilization must follow the wake of the intrepid pioneers of african discovery. livingstone first, and after him, grant, speke, burton, cameron, stanley, are the heroes whose names will ever be linked with the first dawnings of a brighter age upon the dark wilds of equatorial africa. having ascertained that his accomplice had returned unscrupulous and daring as ever, and fully prepared to pursue his former calling as an agent of old alvez the slave dealer, harris inquired what he proposed doing with the survivors of the "pilgrim" now that they were in his hands. "divide them into two lots," answered negoro, without a moment's hesitation, "one for the market, the other...." he did not finish his sentence, but the expression of his countenance was an index to the malignity of his purpose. "which shall you sell?" asked the american. "the niggers, of course. the old one is not worth much, but the other four ought to fetch a good price at kazonndé." "yes, you are right," said harris; "american-born slaves, with plenty of work in them, are rare articles, and very different to the miserable wretches we get up the country. but you never told me," he added, suddenly changing the subject, "whether you found any money on board the 'pilgrim'!" "oh, i rescued a few hundred dollars from the wreck, that was all," said the portuguese carelessly; "but i am expecting...." he stopped short. "what are you expecting?" inquired harris eagerly. "oh, nothing, nothing," said negoro, apparently annoyed that he had said so much, and immediately began talking of the means of securing the living prey which he had been taking so many pains to entrap. harris informed him that on the coanza, about ten miles distant, there was at the present time encamped a slave caravan, under the control of an arab named ibn hamish; plenty of native soldiers were there on guard, and if dick sands and his people could only be induced to travel in that direction, their capture would be a matter of very little difficulty. he said that of course dick sands' first thought would naturally be how to get back to the coast; it was not likely that he would venture a second time through the forest, but would in all probability try to make his way to the nearest river, and descend its course on a raft to the sea. the nearest river was undoubtedly the coanza, so that he and negoro might feel quite sure of meeting "their friends" upon its banks. "if you really think so," said negoro, "there is not much time to be lost; whatever young sands determines to do, he will do at once: he never lets the grass grow under his feet." "let us start, then, this very moment, mate," was harris's reply. both rose to their feet, when they were startled by the same rustling in the papyrus which had previously aroused negoro's fears. presently a low growl was heard, and a large dog, showing his teeth, emerged from the bushes, evidently prepared for an attack. "it's dingo!" exclaimed harris. "confound the brute! he shall not escape me this time," said negoro. he caught up harris's gun, and raising it to his shoulder, he fired just as the dog was in the act of springing at his throat. a long whine of pain followed the report, and dingo disappeared again amongst the bushes that fringed the stream. negoro was instantly upon his track, but could discover nothing beyond a few blood-stains upon the stalks of the papyrus, and a long crimson trail upon the pebbles on the bank. "i think i have done for the beast now," was negoro's remark as he returned from his fruitless search. harris, who had been a silent spectator of the whole scene, now asked coolly,-- "what makes that animal have such an inveterate dislike to you?" "oh, there is an old score to settle between us," replied the portuguese. "what about?" inquired the american. negoro made no reply, and finding him evidently disinclined to be communicative on the subject, harris did not press the matter any further. a few moments later the two men were descending the stream, and making their way through the forest towards the coanza. [illustration: dingo disappeared again amongst the bushes] chapter iii. on the march again. "africa! africa!" was the terrible word that echoed and re-echoed in the mind of dick sands. as he pondered over the events of the preceding weeks he could now understand why, notwithstanding the rapid progress of the ship, the land seemed ever to be receding, and why the voyage had been prolonged to twice its anticipated length. it remained, however, a mystery inexplicable as before, how and when they had rounded cape horn and passed into another ocean. suddenly the idea flashed upon him that the compass must have been tampered with; and he remembered the fall of the first compass; he recalled the night when he had been roused by tom's cry of alarm that negoro had fallen against the binnacle. as he recollected these circumstances he became more and more convinced that it was negoro who was the mainspring of all the mischief; that it was he who had contrived the loss of the "pilgrim," and compromised the safety of all on board. what had been the career, what could be the motives of a man who was capable of such vile machinations? but shrouded in mystery as were the events of the past, the present offered a prospect equally obscure. beyond the fact that he was in africa and a hundred miles from the coast, dick knew absolutely nothing. he could only conjecture that he was in the fatal province of angola, and assured as he was that harris had acted the traitor, he was led to the conclusion that he and negoro had been playing into each other's hands. the result of the collision, he feared, might be very disastrous to the survivors of the "pilgrim." yet, in what manner would the odious stratagem be accomplished? dick could well understand that the negroes would be sold for slaves; he could only too easily imagine that upon himself negoro would wreak the vengeance he had so obviously been contemplating; but for mrs. weldon and the other helpless members of the party what fate could be in store? the situation was terrible, but yet dick did not flinch; he had been appointed captain, and captain he would remain; mrs. weldon and her little son had been committed to his charge, and he was resolved to carry out his trust faithfully to the end. for several hours he remained wrapped in thought, pondering over the present and the future, weighing the evil chances against the good, only to be convinced that the evil much preponderated. at length he rose, firm, resolute, calm. the first glimmer of dawn was breaking upon the forest. all the rest of the party, except tom, were fast asleep. dick sands crept softly up to the old negro, and whispered:-- "tom, you know now where we are!" "yes, yes, mr. dick, only too well i know it. we are in africa!" the old man sighed mournfully. "tom," said dick, in the same low voice, "you must keep this a secret; you must not say a word to let mrs. weldon or any of the others know." the old man murmured his assent, and dick continued:-- "it will be quite enough for them to learn that we have been betrayed by harris, and that we must consequently practise extra care and watchfulness; they will merely think we are taking precautions against being surprised by nomad indians. i trust to your good sense, tom, to assist me in this." "you may depend upon me, mr. dick; and i can promise you that we will all do our best to prove our courage, and to show our devotion to your service." [illustration: "you must keep this a secret"] thus assured of tom's co-operation, dick proceeded to deliberate upon his future line of action. he had every reason to believe that the treacherous american, startled by the traces of the slaves and the unexpected roaring of the lion, had taken flight before he had conducted his victims to the spot where they were to be attacked, and that consequently some hours might elapse before he would be joined by negoro, who (to judge from dingo's strange behaviour) had undoubtedly for the last few days been somewhere on their track. here was a delay that might be turned to good account, and no time was to be lost in taking advantage of it to commence their return journey to the coast. if, as dick had every reason to suppose, he was in angola, he hoped to find, either north or south, some portuguese settlement whence he could obtain the means of transporting his party to their several homes. but how was this return journey to be accomplished? it would be difficult, not to say imprudent, to retrace their footsteps through the forest; it would merely bring them to their starting-point, and would, moreover, afford an easy track for negoro or his accomplices to follow. the safest and most secret means of reaching the coast would assuredly be by descending the course of some river. this would have to be effected by constructing a strong raft, from which the little party, well armed, might defend themselves alike from attacks either of the natives or of wild beasts, and which would likewise afford a comfortable means of transport for mrs. weldon and her little boy, who were now deprived of the use of harris's horse. the negroes, it is true, would be only too pleased to carry the lady on a litter of branches, but this would be to occupy the services of two out of five, and under the circumstances it was manifestly advisable that all hands should be free to act on the defensive. another great inducement towards the plan was that dick sands felt himself much more at home in travelling by water than by land, and was longing to be once again upon what to him was, as it were, his native element. he little dreamt that he was devising for himself the very plan that harris, in his speculations, had laid down for him! the most urgent matter was now to find such a stream as would suit their purpose. dick had several reasons for feeling sure that one existed in the neighbourhood. he knew that the little river, which fell into the atlantic near the spot where the "pilgrim" stranded, could not extend very far either to the north or east, because the horizon was bounded in both directions by the chain of mountains which he had taken for the cordilleras. if the stream did not rise in those hills it must incline to the south, so that in either case dick was convinced he could not be long in discovering it or one of its affluents. another sign, which he recognized as hopeful, was that during the last few miles of the march the soil had become moist and level, whilst here and there the appearance of tiny rivulets indicated that an aqueous network existed in the subsoil. on the previous day, too, the caravan had skirted a rushing torrent, of which the waters were tinged with oxide of iron from its sloping banks. dick's scheme was to make his way back as far as this stream, which though not navigable itself would in all probability empty itself into some affluent of greater importance. the idea, which he imparted to tom, met with the old negro's entire approval. as the day dawned the sleepers, one by one, awoke. mrs. weldon laid little jack in nan's arms. the child was still dozing; the fever had abated, but he looked painfully white and exhausted after the attack. "dick," said mrs. weldon, after looking round her, "where is mr. harris? i cannot see him." "harris has left us," answered dick very quietly. "do you mean that he has gone on ahead?" "no, madam, i mean that he has left us, and gone away entirely: he is in league with negoro." "in league with negoro!" cried mrs. weldon, "ah, i have had a fancy lately that there has been something wrong: but why? what can be their motive?" "indeed i am unable to tell you," replied dick; "i only know that we have no alternative but to return to the coast immediately if we would escape the two rascals." [illustration: "harris has left us"] "i only wish i could catch them," said hercules, who had overheard the conversation; "i would soon knock their heads together;" and he shook his two fists in giving emphasis to his words. "but what will become of my boy?" cried mrs. weldon, in tones of despondency; "i have been so sanguine in procuring him the comforts of san felice." "master jack will be all right enough, madam, when we get into a more healthy situation near the coast," said tom. "but is there no farm anywhere near? no village? no shelter?" she pleaded. "none whatever, madam; i can only repeat that it is absolutely necessary that we make the best of our way back to the sea-shore." "are you quite sure, dick, that mr. harris has deceived us?" dirk felt that he should be glad to avoid any discussion on the subject, but with a warning glance at tom, he proceeded to say that on the previous night he and tom had discovered the american's treachery, and that if he had not instantly taken to his horse and fled he would have answered for his guilt with his life. without, however, dwelling for a moment more than he could avoid upon the past, he hurried on to detail the means by which he now proposed to reach the sea, concluding by the assertion that he hoped a very few miles' march would bring them to a stream on which they might be able to embark. mrs. weldon, thoroughly ignoring her own weakness, professed her readiness not only to walk, but to carry jack too. bat and austin at once volunteered to carry her in a litter; of this the lady would not hear, and bravely repeated her intention of travelling on foot, announcing her willingness to start without further delay. dick sands was only too glad to assent to her wish. "let me take master jack," said hercules; "i shall be out of my element if i have nothing to carry." the giant, without waiting for a reply, took the child from nan's arms so gently that he did not even rouse him from his slumber. the weapons were next carefully examined, and the provisions, having been repacked into one parcel, were consigned to the charge of actæon, who undertook to carry them on his back. cousin benedict, whose wiry limbs seemed capable of bearing any amount of fatigue, was quite ready to start. it was doubtful whether he had noticed harris's disappearance; he was suffering from a loss which to him was of far greater importance. he had mislaid his spectacles and magnifying-glass. it had happened that bat had picked them up in the long grass, close to the spot where the amateur naturalist had been lying, but acting on a hint from dick sands, he said nothing about them; in this way the entomologist, who, without his glasses could scarcely see a yard beyond his face, might be expected to be kept without trouble in the limits of the ranks, and having been placed between actæon and austin with strict injunctions not to leave their side, he followed them as submissively as a blind man in leading-strings. the start was made. but scarcely had the little troop advanced fifty yards upon their way, when tom suddenly cried out,-- "where's dingo?" with all the force of his tremendous lungs, hercules gave a series of reverberating shouts:-- "dingo! dingo! dingo!" not a bark could be distinguished in reply "dingo! dingo! dingo!" again echoed in the air. but all was silence. dick was intensely annoyed at the non-appearance of the dog; his presence would have been an additional safeguard in the event of any sudden surprise. "perhaps he has followed harris," suggested tom. "far more likely he is on the track of negoro," rejoined dick. "then negoro, to a dead certainty," said hercules, "will put a bullet into his head." "it is to be hoped," replied bat, "that dingo will strangle him first." dick sands, disguising his vexation, said, "at any rate, we have no time to wait for the animal now: if he is alive, he will not fail to find us out. move on, my lads! move on!" the weather was very hot; ever since daybreak heavy clouds had been gathering upon the horizon, and it seemed hardly likely that the day would pass without a storm. fortunately the woods were sufficiently light to ensure a certain amount of freshness to the surface of the soil. here and there were large patches of tall, rank grass enclosed by clumps of forest trees. in some places, fossilized trunks, lying on the ground, betokened the existence of one of the coal districts that are common upon the continent of africa. along the glades the carpet of verdure was relieved by crimson stems and a variety of flowers; ginger-blossoms, blue and yellow, pale lobelias, and red orchids fertilized by the numerous insects that incessantly hovered about them. the trees did not grow in impenetrable masses of one species, but exhibited themselves in infinite variety. there was also a species of palm producing an oil locally much valued; there were cotton-plants growing in bushes eight or ten feet high, the cotton attached in long shreds to the ligneous stalks; and there were copals from which, pierced by the proboscis of certain insects, exudes an odorous resin that flows on to the ground and is collected by the natives. then there were citrons and wild pomegranates and a score of other arborescent plants, all testifying to the fertility of this plateau of central africa. in many places, too, the air was fragrant with the odour of vanilla, though it was not possible to discover the shrub from which the perfume emanated. in spite of it being the dry season, so that the soil had only been moistened by occasional storms, all trees and plants were flourishing in great luxuriance. it was the time of year for fever, but, according to dr. livingstone's observation, the disorder may generally be cured by quitting the locality where it has been contracted. dick expressed his hope that, in little jack's case, the words of the great traveller would be verified, and in encouragement of this sanguine view, pointed out to mrs. weldon that although it was past the time for the periodical return of the fever, the child was still slumbering quietly in hercules' arms. the march was continued with as much rapidity as was consistent with caution. occasionally, where the bushes and brushwood had been broken down by the recent passage of men or beasts, progress was comparatively easy; but much more frequently, greatly to dick's annoyance, obstacles of various sorts impeded their advance. climbing plants grew in such inextricable confusion that they could only be compared to a ship's rigging involved in hopeless entanglement; there were creepers resembling curved scimitars, thickly covered with sharp thorns; there were likewise strange growths, like vegetable serpents, fifty or sixty feet long, which seemed to have a cruel faculty for torturing every passenger with their prickly spines. axe in hand, the negroes had repeatedly to cut their road through these bewildering obstructions that clothed the trees from their summit to their base. animal life was no less remarkable in its way than the vegetation. birds in great variety flitted about in the ample foliage, secure from any stray shot from the little band, whose chief object it was to preserve its incognito. guinea-fowls were seen in considerable numbers, francolins in several varieties, and a few specimens of the bird to which the americans, in imitation of their note, have given the name of "whip-poor-will." if dick had not had too much evidence in other ways to the contrary, he might almost have imagined himself in a province of the new world. hitherto they had been unmolested by any dangerous wild beasts. during the present stage of their march a herd of giraffes, startled by their unexpected approach, rushed fleetly past; this time, however, without being represented as ostriches. occasionally a dense cloud of dust on the edge of the prairie, accompanied by a sound like the roll of heavily-laden chariots, betokened the flight of a herd of buffaloes; but with these exceptions no animal of any magnitude appeared in view. [illustration: the march was continued with as much rapidity as was consistent with caution.] for about two miles dick followed the course of the rivulet, in the hope that it would emerge into a more important stream, which would convey them without much difficulty or danger direct to the sea. towards noon about three miles had been accomplished, and a halt was made for rest. neither negoro nor harris had been seen, nor had dingo reappeared. the encampment for the midday refreshment was made under the shelter of a clump of bamboos, which effectually concealed them all. few words were spoken during the meal. mrs. weldon could eat nothing; she had again taken her little boy into her arms, and seemed wholly absorbed in watching him. again and again dick begged her to take some nourishment, urging upon her the necessity of keeping up her strength. "we shall not be long in finding a good current to carry us to the coast," said the lad brightly. mrs. weldon raised her eyes to his animated features. with so sanguine and resolute a leader, with such devoted servants as the five negroes in attendance, she felt that she ought not utterly to despair. was she not, after all, on friendly soil? what great harm could harris perpetrate against her or her belongings? she would hope still, hope for the best. rejoiced as he was to see something of its former brightness return to her countenance, dick nevertheless had scarcely courage steadily to return her searching gaze. had she known the whole truth, he knew that her heart must fail her utterly. chapter iv. rough travelling. just at this moment jack woke up and put his arms round his mother's neck. his eyes were brighter, and there was manifestly no return of fever. "you are better, darling!" said mrs. weldon, pressing him tenderly to her. "yes, mamma, i am better; but i am very thirsty." some cold water was soon procured, which the child drank eagerly, and then began to look about him. his first inquiry was for his old friends, dick and hercules, both of whom approached at his summons and greeted him affectionately. "where is the horse?" was the next question. "gone away, master jack; i am your horse now," said hercules. "but you have no bridle for me to hold," said jack, looking rather disappointed. "you may put a bit in my mouth if you like, master jack," replied hercules, extending his jaws, "and then you may pull as hard as you please." "o, i shall not pull very hard," said jack; "but haven't we nearly come to mr. harris's farm?" mrs. weldon assured the child that they should soon be where they wanted to be, and dick, finding that the conversation was approaching dangerous ground, proposed that the journey should be now resumed. mrs. weldon assented; the encampment was forthwith broken up and the march continued as before. [illustration: it was a scene only too common in central africa] in order not to lose sight of the watercourse, it was necessary to cut a way right through the underwood: progress was consequently very slow; and a little over a mile was all that was accomplished in about three hours. footpaths had evidently once existed, but they had all become what the natives term "dead," that is, they had become entirely overgrown with brushwood and brambles. the negroes worked away with a will; hercules, in particular, who temporarily resigned his charge to nan, wielded his axe with marvellous effect, all the time giving vent to stentorian groans and grunts, and succeeded in opening the woods before him as if they were being consumed by a devouring fire. fortunately this heavy labour was not of very long duration. after about a mile, an opening of moderate width, converging towards the stream and following its bank, was discovered in the underwood. it was a passage formed by elephants, which apparently by hundreds must be in the habit of traversing this part of the forest. the spongy soil, soaked by the downpour of the rainy season, was everywhere indented with the enormous impressions of their feet. but it soon became evident that elephants were not the only living creatures that had used this track. human bones gnawed by beasts of prey, whole human skeletons, still wearing the iron fetters of slavery, everywhere strewed the ground. it was a scene only too common in central africa, where like cattle driven to the slaughter, poor miserable men are dragged in caravans for hundreds of weary miles, to perish on the road in countless numbers beneath the trader's lash, to succumb to the mingled horrors of fatigue, privation, and disease, or, if provisions fail, to be butchered, without pity or remorse, by sword and gun. that slave-caravans had passed that way was too obvious to permit a doubt. for at least a mile, at almost every step dick came in contact with the scattered bones; while ever and again huge goat suckers, disturbed by the approach of the travellers, rose with flapping wings, and circled round their heads. the youth's heart sank with secret dismay lest mrs. weldon should divine the meaning of this ghastly scene, and appeal to him for explanation, but fortunately she had again insisted on carrying her little patient, and although the child was fast asleep, he absorbed her whole attention. nan was by her side, almost equally engrossed. old tom alone was fully alive to the significance of his surroundings, and with downcast eyes he mournfully pursued his march. full of amazement, the other negroes looked right and left upon what might appear to them as the upheaval of some vast cemetery, but they uttered no word of inquiry or surprise. meantime the bed of the stream had increased both in breadth and depth, and the rivulet had in a degree lost its character of a rushing torrent. this was a change which dick sands observed hopefully, interpreting it as an indication that it might itself become navigable, or would empty itself into some more important tributary of the atlantic. his resolve was fixed: he would follow its course at all hazards. as soon, therefore, as he found that the elephant's track was quitting the water's edge, he made up his mind to abandon it, and had no hesitation in again resorting to the use of the axe. once more, then, commenced the labour of cutting a way through the entanglement of bushes and creepers that were thick upon the soil. it was no longer forest through which they were wending their arduous path; trees were comparatively rare; only tall clumps of bamboos rose above the grass, so high, however, that even hercules could not see above them, and the passage of the little troop could only have been discovered by the rustling in the stalks. in the course of the afternoon, the soil became soft and marshy. it was evident that the travellers were crossing plains that in a long rainy season must be inundated. the ground was carpeted with luxuriant mosses and graceful ferns, and the continual appearance of brown hematite wherever there was a rise in the soil, betokened the existence of a rich vein of metal beneath. remembering what he had read in dr. livingstone's account of these treacherous swamps, dick bade his companions take their footing warily. he himself led the way. tom expressed his surprise that the ground should be so soaked when there had been no rain for some time. "i think we shall have a storm soon," said bat, "all the more reason, then," replied dick, "why we should get away from these marshes as quickly as possible. carry jack again, hercules; and you, bat and austin, keep close to mrs. weldon, so as to be able to assist her if she wants your help. but take care, take care, mr. benedict!" he cried out in sudden alarm; "what are you doing, sir?" "i'm slipping in," was poor benedict's helpless reply. he had trodden upon a kind of quagmire and, as though a trap had been opened beneath his feet, was fast disappearing into the slough. assistance was immediately rendered, and the unfortunate naturalist was dragged out, covered with mud almost to his waist, but thoroughly satisfied because his precious box of specimens had suffered no injury. actæon undertook for the future to keep close to his side, and endeavour to avoid a repetition of the mishap. the accident could not be said to be altogether free from unpleasant consequences. air-bubbles in great numbers had risen to the surface of the mire from which benedict had been extricated, and as they burst they disseminated an odious stench that was well-nigh intolerable. the passage of these pestilential districts is not unfrequently very dangerous, and livingstone, who on several occasions waded through them in mud that reached to his breast, compares them to great sponges composed of black porous earth, in which every footstep causes streams of moisture to ooze out. for well nigh half a mile they had now to wend their cautious way across this spongy soil. mrs. weldon, ankle-deep in the soft mud, was at last compelled to come to a stand-still; and hercules, bat, and austin, all resolved that she should be spared further discomfort, and insisted upon weaving some bamboos into a litter, upon which, after much reluctance to become such a burden, she was induced, with jack beside her, to take her place. after the delay thus caused, the procession again started on its perilous route. dick sands continued to walk at the head, in order to test the stability of the footing; action followed, holding cousin benedict firmly by the arm; tom took charge of old nan, who without his support would certainly have fallen into the quagmire; and the three other negroes carried the litter in the rear. it was a matter of the greatest difficulty to find a path that was sufficiently firm; the method they adopted was to pick their way as much as possible on the long rank grass that on the margin of the swamps was tolerably tough; but in spite of the greatest precaution, there was not one of them who escaped occasionally sinking up to his knees in slush. at about five o'clock they were relieved by finding themselves on ground of a more clayey character; it was still soft and porous below, but its surface was hard enough to give a secure foothold. there were watery pores that percolated the subsoil, and these gave evident witness to the proximity of a river-district. the heat would have been intolerably oppressive if it had not been tempered by some heavy storm-clouds which obstructed the direct influence of the sun's rays. lightning was observed to be playing faintly about the sky, and there was now and again the low growl of distant thunder. the indications of a gathering storm were too manifest to be disregarded, and dick could not help being very uneasy. he had heard of the extreme violence of african storms, and knew that torrents of rain, hurricanes that no tree could resist, and thunderbolt after thunderbolt were the usual accompaniment of these tempests. and here in this lowland desert, which too surely would be completely inundated, there would not be a tree to which they could resort for shelter, while it would likewise be utterly vain to hope to obtain a refuge by excavation, as water would be found only two feet below the surface. [illustration: another brilliant flash brought the camp once again into relief.] after scrutinizing the landscape, however, he noticed some low elevations on the north that seemed to form the boundary of the marshy plain. a few trees were scattered along their summits; if his party could get no other shelter here, he hoped they would be able to find themselves free from any danger caused by the rising flood. "push on, friends, push on!" he cried; "three miles more, and we shall be out of this treacherous lowland." his words served to inspire a fresh confidence, and in spite of all the previous fatigue, every energy was brought into play with renewed vigour. hercules, in particular, seemed ready to carry the whole party, if it had been in his power. the storm was not long in beginning. the rising ground was still two miles away. although the sun was above the horizon, the darkness was almost complete; the overhanging volumes of vapour sank lower and lower towards the earth, but happily the full force of the deluge which must ultimately come did not descend as yet. lightning, red and blue, flashed on every side and appeared to cover the ground with a network of flame. ever and again the little knot of travellers were in peril of being struck by the thunderbolts which, on that treeless plain, had no other object of attraction. poor little jack, who had been awakened by the perpetual crashes, buried his face in terror in hercules' breast, anxious, however, not to distress his mother by any outward exhibition of alarm. the good-natured negro endeavoured to pacify him by promises that the lightning should not touch him, and the child, ever confident in the protection of his huge friend, lost something of his nervousness. but it could not be long before the clouds would burst and discharge the threatened down-pour. "what are we to do, tom?" asked dick, drawing up close to the negro's side. "we must make a rush for it; push on with all the speed we can." "but where?" cried dick. "straight on," was the prompt reply; "if the rain catches us here on the plain we shall all be drowned." "but where are we to go?" repeated dick, in despair; "if only there were a hut! but look, look there!" a vivid flash of lightning had lit up the country, and dick declared that he could see a camp which could hardly be more than a quarter of a mile ahead. the negro looked doubtful. "i saw it too," he assented: "but if it be a camp at all it would be a camp of natives; and to fall into that would involve us in a worse fate than the rain." another brilliant flash brought the camp once again into relief; it appeared to be made up of about a hundred conical tents, arranged very symmetrically, each of them being from twelve to fifteen feet in height. it had the appearance, from a distance, of being deserted; if it were really so, it would afford just the shelter that was needed; otherwise, at all hazards, it must be most carefully avoided. "i will go in advance," said dick, after a moment's reflection, "and reconnoitre it." "let one of us, at least, go with you," replied tom. "no, stay where you are; i shall be much less likely to be discovered if i go alone." without another word, he darted off, and was soon lost in the sombre darkness that was only broken by the frequent lightning. large drops of rain were now beginning to fall. tom and dick had been walking some little distance in advance of the rest of the party, who consequently had not overheard their conversation. a halt being made, mrs. weldon inquired what was the matter. tom explained that a camp or village had been noticed a little way in front, and that the captain had gone forward to investigate it. mrs. weldon asked no further questions, but quietly waited the result. it was only a few minutes before dick returned. "you may come on," he cried. "is the camp deserted?" asked tom. "it is not a camp at all; it is a lot of ant-hills!" "ant-hills!" echoed benedict, suddenly aroused into a state of excitement. [illustration: one after another, the whole party made their way inside] "no doubt of it, mr. benedict." replied dick; "they are ant-hills twelve feet high at least: and i hope we shall be able to get into them." "twelve feet!" the naturalist repeated; "they must be those of the termites, the white ants; there is no other insect that could make them. wonderful architects are the termites." "termites, or whatever they are, they will have to turn out for us," said dick. "but they will eat us up!" objected benedict. "i can't help that," retorted dick; "go we must, and go at once." "but stop a moment," continued the provoking naturalist; "stop, and tell me: i can't be wrong: i always thought that white ants could never be found elsewhere than in africa." "come along, sir, i say; come along, quick!" shouted dick, terrified lest mrs. weldon should have overheard him. they hurried on. a wind had risen; large spattering drops were now beginning to fall more heavily on the ground and in a few minutes it would be impossible to stand against the advancing tempest. the nearest of the accumulation of ant-hills was reached in time, and however dangerous their occupants might be, it was decided either to expel them, or to share their quarters. each cone was formed of a kind of reddish clay, and had a single opening at its base. hercules took his hatchet, and quickly enlarged the aperture till it would admit his own huge body. not an ant made its appearance. cousin benedict expressed his extreme surprise. but the structure unquestionably was empty, and one after another the whole party made their way inside. the rain by this time was descending in terrific torrents, strong enough to extinguish, one would think, the most violent explosions of the electric fluid. but the travellers were secure in their shelter, and had nothing to fear for the present; their tenement was of greater stability than a tent or a native hut. it was one of those marvellous structures erected by little insects, which to cameron appeared even more wonderful than the upraising of the egyptian pyramids by human hands. to use his own comparison, it might be likened to the construction of a mount everest, the loftiest of the himalayan peaks, by the united labour of a nation. chapter v. white ants. the storm had now burst in full fury, and fortunate it was that a refuge had been found. the rain did not fall in separate drops as in temperate zones, but descended like the waters of a cataract, in one solid and compact mass, in a way that could only suggest the outpour of some vast aerial basin containing the waters of an entire ocean. contrary, too, to the storms of higher latitudes, of which the duration seems ordinarily to be in inverse ratio to their violence, these african tempests, whatever their magnitude, often last for whole days, furrowing the soil into deep ravines, changing plains to lakes and brooks to torrents, and causing rivers to overflow and cover vast districts with their inundations. it is hard to understand whence such volumes of vapour and electric fluid can accumulate. the earth, upon these occasions, might almost seem to be carried back to the remote period which has been called "the diluvian age." happily, the walls of the ant-hill were very thick; no beaver-hut formed of pounded earth could be more perfectly water-tight, and a torrent might have passed over it without a particle of moisture making its way through its substance. as soon as the party had taken possession of the tenement, a lantern was lighted, and they proceeded to examine the interior. the cone, which was about twelve feet high inside, was eleven feet wide at the base, gradually narrowing to a sugar-loaf top. the walls and partitions between the tiers of cells were nowhere less than a foot thick throughout. these wonderful erections, the result of the combined labour of innumerable insects, are by no means uncommon in the heart of africa. smeathman, a dutch traveller of the last century, has recorded how he and four companions all at one time occupied the summit of one of them in loundé. livingstone noticed some made of red clay, of which the height varied from fifteen to twenty feet; and in nyangwé, cameron several times mistook one of these colonies for a native camp pitched upon the plain. he described some of these strange edifices as being flanked with small spires, giving them the appearance of a cathedral-dome. the reddish clay of which the ant-hill was composed could leave no doubt upon the mind of a naturalist that it had been formed by the species known as "termes bellicosus;" had it been made of grey or black alluvial soil, it might have been attributed to the "termes mordax" or "termes atrox," formidable names that must awaken anything but pleasure in the minds of all but enthusiast entomologists. in the centre was an open space, surrounded by roomy compartments, ranged one upon another, like the berths of a ship's cabin, and lined with the millions of cells that had been occupied by the ants. this central space was inadequate to hold the whole party that had now made their hurried resort to it, but as each of the compartments was sufficiently capacious to admit one person to occupy it in a sitting posture, mrs. weldon, jack, nan, and cousin benedict were exalted to the upper tier, austin, bat, and actæon occupied the next story, whilst tom and hercules, and dick sands himself remained below. dick soon found that the soil beneath his feet was beginning to get damp, and insisted upon having some of the dry clay spread over it from the base of the cone. "it is a long time," he said, "since we have slept with a roof over our heads; and i am anxious to make our refuge as secure as possible. it may be that we shall have to stay here for a whole day or more; on the first opportunity i shall go and explore; it may turn out that we are near the stream we are seeking; and perhaps we shall have to build a raft before we start again." [illustration: cousin benedict's curiosity was awakened.] under his direction, therefore, hercules took his hatchet, and proceeded to break down the lowest range of cells and to spread the dry, brittle clay of which they were composed a good foot thick over the damp floor, taking care not in any way to block up the aperture by which the fresh air penetrated into the interior. it was indeed fortunate that the termites had abandoned their home; had it swarmed with its multitudes of voracious neuroptera, the ant-hill would have been utterly untenable for human beings. cousin benedict's curiosity was awakened, and he was intensely interested in the question of the evacuation, so that he proceeded at once to investigate, if he could, whether the emigration had been recent or otherwise. he took the lantern, and as the result of his scrutiny he soon discovered in a recess what he described as the termites' "storehouse," or the place where the indefatigable insects keep their provisions. it was a large cavity, not far from the royal cell, which, together with the cells for the reception of the young larvae, had been destroyed by hercules in the course of his flooring operations. out of this receptacle benedict drew a considerable quantity of gum and vegetable juices, all in a state so liquid as to demonstrate that they had been deposited there quite recently. "they have only just gone," he exclaimed, with an air of authority, as if he imagined that some one was about to challenge his assertion. "we are not going to dispute your word, mr. benedict," said dick; "here we are; we have taken their place, and shall be quite content for them to keep out of the way, without caring when they went, or where they have gone." "but we must care," retorted benedict testily; "why they have gone concerns us a good deal; these juices make it evident, from the liquid state in which we find them, that the ants were here this morning, they have not only gone, but they have carried off their young larvae with them; they have been sagacious enough to take warning of some impending danger." "perhaps they heard that we were coming," said hercules, laughing. a look of withering scorn was the only answer that the entomologist deigned to give. "yes, i say," repeated hercules, "perhaps they heard that we were coming." "pshaw!" said benedict contemptuously; "do you imagine they would be afraid of you? they would reduce your carcase to a skeleton in no time, if they found it across their path." "no doubt, if i were dead," replied hercules, "they could pick my bones pretty clean; but while i had the use of my limbs i think i could crush them by thousands." "thousands!" ejaculated benedict, with increasing warmth; "you think you could demolish thousands; but what if they were hundreds of thousands, millions, hundreds of millions? alive as much as dead, i tell you, they wouldn't be long in consuming every morsel of you." during this brisk little discussion dick sands had been pondering over what benedict had said. there was no doubt that the amateur naturalist was well acquainted with the habits of white ants, and if, as he affirmed, the insects had instinctively quitted their abode on account of some approaching danger, dick asked himself whether it was safe or prudent for his party to remain. but the fury of the storm was still so great that all possibility of removing from the shelter seemed precluded for the present, and, without inquiring farther into the mystery, he merely said, "although the ants, mr. benedict, have left us their provisions, we must not forget that we have brought our own. we will have our supper now, and to-morrow, when the storm is over, we will see what is to be done." fatigue had not taken away the appetite of the energetic travellers, and they gladly set about the preparation of their meal. the provisions, of which they had enough for another two days, had not been injured by the rain. for some minutes the crunching of hard biscuit was the only sound to be heard; hercules, in particular, seemed to pound away with his huge jaws as with a pair of millstones. [illustration: the naturalist now fairly mounted on a favourite hobby.] mrs. weldon was the only one of the party who ate little; and that little was only taken at dick's earnest solicitation; he could not help noticing, with much concern, that although jack seemed to be satisfactorily recovering, and, without sign of fever, was sleeping calmly enough on a bed made up of clothes spread out in one of the cells, yet his mother had lost much of her courage, and seemed preoccupied and depressed. cousin benedict did due honour to the simple evening repast; not on account of its quantity or quality, but because it gave him an opportunity of holding forth upon the subject of termites. he was much vexed that he had been unable to discover a single specimen in the deserted anthill with which he might illustrate his lecture, but notwithstanding this deficiency he continued to talk, heedless whether any one was listening. "they are wonderful insects," he said; "they belong to the order of the neuroptera, which have the antennae longer than the head; their mandibles are well-developed, and the inferior pair of wings is generally as large as the superior. there are five families of them; the panorpide, the myrmellonide, the hemerobiide, the termitine, and the perlide. i need hardly say that what we are now occupying is a dwelling of the termitine." at this point dick became all attention; he was anxious to ascertain whether this discovery of white ants had aroused any suspicion in benedict's mind that they must be on african soil. the naturalist, now fairly mounted on a favourite hobby, went on with his discourse. "i am sorry not to have a specimen to show you, but these termitine have four joints in the tarsi, and strong horny mandibles. the family includes, as genera, the mantispa, the raphidia, and the termes, the last commonly known as white ants, amongst which are 'termes fatalis, termes lucifugans, termes mordax,' and several others more or less rare." "and which of them built this ant-hill?" inquired dick. "the bellicosi!" replied benedict, pronouncing the name with as much pride as if he were eulogizing the macedonians or some warlike nation of antiquity. "bellicosi," he continued, "are to be found of every size. there is as much difference between the largest and the smallest of them as there is between hercules and a dwarf; the workers are about one-fifth of an inch long; the soldiers, or fighting-ants, are half an inch; whilst the males and females measure four fifths of an inch. there is another curious species, called 'sirafoos,' which are about half an inch long, and have pincers instead of mandibles, and heads larger than their bodies, like sharks. in fact, if sharks and sirafoos were placed in competition, i should be inclined to back the sharks." "and where are these sirafoos most generally to be found?" said dick cautiously. "in africa, in the southern and central provinces. africa may truly be termed the land of ants. livingstone, in the notes brought home by stanley, describes a battle which he was fortunate enough to witness between an army of black ants and an army of red. the black ants, or drivers, which are what the natives call sirafoos, got the best of it; and the red ants, or 'tchoongoos,' after a very resolute defence, were obliged to retire defeated, carrying their eggs and young ones with them. livingstone avows that he never saw the warlike instinct so strongly developed as in these sirafoos; the stoutest man, the largest animal, a lion or an elephant, quails before the grip of their mandibles: no obstacle impedes their progress; no tree is too lofty for them to scale, and they contrive to cross wide streams by forming their own bodies into a kind of suspension bridge. equally amazing are their numbers; du chaillu, another african traveller, relates how it took more than twelve hours for a column of ants to file pass him, without a moment's pause in their march. these numbers, however cease to be so surprising when it is explained that their fecundity is such that a single female of the termites bellicosi has been estimated to produce as many as sixty thousand eggs a day. these neuroptera furnish the natives with a favourite food, grilled ants being considered a great delicacy." "have you ever tasted them?" asked hercules, with a grin. "never," answered the naturalist; "but i am in hopes i shall have a chance of doing so very soon." "surely you don't imagine yourself in africa!" said tom suddenly. "africa! no; why should i?" replied benedict; "but, as i have already seen a tzetsy in america, i do not despair of having the satisfaction of discovering white ants there too. you do not know the sensation i shall make in europe when i publish my folio volume and its illustrations." it was evident that no inkling of the truth had yet entered poor benedict's brain, and it seemed likely that it would require demonstration far more striking than any natural phenomena to undeceive the minds of such of the party as were not already in possession of the fatal secret. although it was nine o'clock, cousin benedict went on talking incessantly, regardless of the fact that one by one his audience were falling to sleep in their separate cells. dick sands did not sleep, but neither did he interrupt the entomologist by farther questions; hercules kept up his attention longer than the rest, but at length he too succumbed to weariness, and his eyes and ears were closed to all external sights and sounds. but endurance has limits, and at last cousin benedict, having worn himself out, clambered up to the topmost cell of the cone, which he had chosen for his dormitory, and fell into a peaceful slumber. the lantern had been already extinguished. all was darkness and silence within, whilst the storm without still raged with a violence that gave no sign of abatement. dick sands himself was the only one of the party who was not partaking in the repose that was so indispensable to them all; but he could not sleep; his every thought was absorbed in the responsibility that rested on him to rescue those under his charge from the dangers that threatened them. again and again he recalled every incident that had occurred since the loss of captain hull and his crew; he remembered the occasion when he had stood with his pistol pointed at negoro's head; why, oh why, had his hand faltered then? why had he not at that moment hurled the miserable wretch overboard, and thus relieved himself and his partners in trouble from the catastrophe that had since befallen them? peril was still staring them in the face, and his sole drop of consolation in the bitter cup of despondency was that mrs. weldon was still ignorant of their real situation. at that moment, just in the fever of his agony, he felt a light breath upon his forehead; a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a gentle voice murmured in his ear,-- "my poor boy, i know everything. god will help us! his will be done!" [illustration: "my poor boy, i know everything."] chapter vi. a diving-bell. this sudden revelation that mrs. weldon was acquainted with the true state of things left dick speechless. even had he been capable of replying, she gave him no opportunity, but immediately retired to the side of her son. the various incidents of the march had all gradually enlightened her, and perhaps the exclamation of cousin benedict on the preceding evening had crowned them all; anyhow the brave lady now knew the worst. dick felt, however, that she did not despair; neither would he. he lay and longed for the dawn, when he hoped to explore the situation better, and perchance to find the watercourse which he was convinced could not be far distant. moreover, he was extremely anxious to be out of the reach of the natives whom, it was only too likely, negoro and harris might be putting on their track. but as yet no glimmer of daylight penetrated the aperture of the cone, whilst the heavy rumblings, deadened as they were by the thickness of the walls, made it certain that the storm was still raging with undiminished fury. attentively dick listened, and he could distinctly hear the rain beating around the base of the ant-hill; the heavy drops splashed again as they fell, in a way altogether different to what they would upon solid ground, so that he felt sure that the adjacent land was by this time completely flooded. he was getting very drowsy when it suddenly occurred to him that it was not unlikely the aperture was getting blocked up with damp clay; in that case he knew that the breath of the inmates would quickly vitiate the internal atmosphere. he crept along the ground and had the satisfaction of finding that the clay embankment was still perfectly dry; the orifice was quite unobstructed, allowing not only a free passage to the air, but admitting the glare of the occasional flashes of lightning, which the descending volumes of water did not seem to stay. having thus far satisfied himself that all was well, and that there was no immediate danger, dick thought that he might now resign himself to sleep as well as the rest: he took the precaution, however, of stretching himself upon the embankment within easy reach of the opening, and with his head supported against the wall, after a while dozed off. how long his light slumber had lasted he could not say, when he was aroused by a sensation of cold. he started up, and to his horror discovered that the water had entered the ant-hill and was rising rapidly; it could not be long, he saw, before it reached the cells which were occupied by hercules and tom. he woke them at once, and told them what he had observed. the lantern was soon lighted, and they set to work to ascertain what progress the water was making it rose for about five feet, when it was found to remain stationary. "what is the matter, dick?" inquired mrs. weldon, disturbed by the movements of the men. "nothing very alarming," answered dick promptly; "only some water has found its way into the lower part of the place; it will not reach your upper cells; probably some river has overflowed its boundaries." "the very river, perhaps," suggested hercules assuringly, "that is to carry us to the coast." mrs. weldon made no reply. cousin benedict was still sleeping as soundly as if he were himself a white ant; the negroes were peering down on to the sheet of water which reflected back the rays of the lantern, ready to carry out any orders given by dick, who was quietly gauging the inundation, and removing the provisions and fire-arms out of its reach. [illustration: they set to work to ascertain what progress the water was making.] "did the water get in at the opening, mr. dick?" asked tom. "yes, tom, and consequently we are coming to the end of our stock of fresh air," was dick's reply. "but why should we not make another opening above the water level?" tom inquired. "a thing to be thought about," said dick; "but we have to remember that if we have five feet of water here inside, there is probably a depth of six or seven outside. in rising here the flood has compressed the air, and made it an obstacle to further progress, but if we allow the air to escape, we may perhaps only be letting the water rise too high for our safety. we are just as if we were in a diving-bell." "then what is to be done?" asked the old negro. "no doubt," replied dick, "we must proceed very cautiously. an inconsiderate step will jeopardize our lives." dick sands was quite correct in comparing the cone to an immersed diving-bell. in that mechanical contrivance, however, the air can always be renewed by means of pumps, so that it can be occupied without inconvenience beyond what is entailed by a somewhat confined atmosphere; but here the interior space had already been reduced by a third part through the encroachment of the water, and there was no method of communicating with the outer air except by opening a new aperture, an operation in which there was manifest danger. dick did not entertain the slightest apprehension that the ant-hill would be carried away bodily by the inundation; he knew that it would adhere to its base as firmly as a beaver-hut; what he really dreaded was that the storm would last so long that the flood would rise high above the plain, perhaps submerging the ant-hill entirely, so that ultimately all air would be expelled by the persistent pressure. the more he pondered the more he felt himself driven to the conviction that the inundation would be wide and deep. it could not be, he felt sure, entirely owing to the downpour from the clouds that the rapid flood was rising; there must have been the sudden overflowing of some stream to cause such a deluge over the low-lying plain. it could not be proved that the ant hill was not already under water, so that escape might be no longer possible, even from its highest point. with all dick's courage, it was yet evident that he was very uneasy; he did not know what to do, and asked himself again and again whether patient waiting or decisive action would be his more prudent course. it was now about three o'clock in the morning. all within the ant-hill were silent and motionless, listening to the incessant turmoil which told that the strife of the elements had not yet ceased. presently, old tom pointed out that the height of the water was gradually increasing, but only by very slow ascent. dick could only say that if the flood continued to rise, however slowly, it must inevitably drive out the air. as if struck by a sudden thought, bat called out,-- "let me try and get outside. perhaps i might dive and get through the opening." "i think i had better make that experiment myself," answered dick. "that you never shall," interposed tom peremptorily; "you must let bat go. it may not be possible to get back, and your presence is indispensable here. think, sir, think of mrs. weldon, and master jack," he added in a lower tone. "well, well," dick assented, "if it must be so, bat shall go." and turning to bat, he continued, "do not try to come back again; we will try, if we can, to follow you the same way; but if the top of the cone is still above water, knock hard on it with your hatchet, and we shall take it as a signal that we may break our way out. do you understand?" "all right!" he said, "all right, sir." and after wringing his father's hand, he drew a long breath, and plunged into the water that filled the lower section of the ant-hill. it was an exploit that required considerable agility; the diver would have to find the orifice, make his way through it, and, without loss of a moment, let himself rise to the surface outside. full half a minute elapsed, and dick was making sure that the negro had been successful in his effort, when his black head emerged from the water. there was a general exclamation of surprise. "it is blocked up," gasped bat, as soon as he had recovered breath enough to speak. "blocked up?" cried tom. "yes," bat affirmed; "i have felt all round the wall very carefully with my hand, and i am sure there is no hole left; i suppose the water has dissolved the clay." "if you cannot find a hole," exclaimed hercules, "i can very soon make one;" and he was just about to plunge his hatchet into the side of the ant-hill, when dick prevented him. "stop, stop! you must not be in such a hurry!" he reflected for a few moments, and went on,-- "we must be cautious; an impetuous step may be destruction; perhaps the water is over the top; if it is allowed to enter, then at once is an end of all." "but whatever we do," urged tom, "must be done at once; there is no time to lose." he was right; the water had risen till it was quite six feet deep; none but mrs. weldon, jack, nan, and cousin benedict, who were lodged in the upper cells, were fairly above its surface. dick now came to his determination. at about a foot above the water-level, that is, about seven feet from the ground, he resolved to bore a hole through the clay. if he should find himself in communication with the open air, he would have the proof he desired that the top of the cone was still uncovered; if, on the other hand, he should ascertain that he had pierced the wall below the surface of the external water, he would be prepared to plug up the hole instantaneously, and repeat the experiment higher up. it was true that the inundation might have risen even fifteen feet above the plain; in that case the worst had come, and there was no alternative but that they must all die of asphyxia. carefully considering the chances of his undertaking, dick calmly and steadily set about his task. the best instrument that suggested itself for his purpose was the ramrod of a gun, which, having a sort of corkscrew at the end for extracting the wadding, would serve as an auger. the hole would be very small, but yet large enough for the requisite test. hercules showed him all the light he could by holding up the lantern. there were several candles left, so that they were not in fear of being altogether in darkness. the operation hardly took a minute; the ramrod passed through the clay without difficulty; a muffled sound was distinguished as of air-bubbles rushing through a column of water. as the air escaped, the water in the cone rose perceptibly. the hole had been pierced too low. a handful of clay was immediately forced into the orifice, which was thus effectually plugged; and dick turned round quietly, and said,-- "we must try again." the water had again become stationary, but its last rise had diminished the amount of breathing space by more than eight inches. the supply of oxygen was beginning to fail, respiration was becoming difficult, and the flame of the candle burned red and dim. about a foot higher than the first hole, dick now set about boring a second. the experiment might again prove a failure, and the water rise yet higher in the cone; but the risk must be run. just as the auger was being inserted, a loud exclamation of delight was heard proceeding from cousin benedict's cell. dick paused, and hercules turned the lantern towards the excited naturalist, who seemed beaming with satisfaction. "yes, yes; i see it all well enough," he cried; "i know now why the termites left their home; they were wide-awake; they were more clever than we are; they knew that the storm was coming!" finding that this was all the worthy entomologist had to communicate, dick, without comment, turned back again to his operation. again the gurgling noise! again the water's upward rush! for the second time he had failed to effect an aperture to the outer air! [illustration: all fired simultaneously at the nearest boat.] the situation was to the last degree alarming. the water had all but reached mrs. weldon, and she was obliged to take her boy into her arms. every one felt nearly stifled. a loud singing was heard in the ears, and the lantern showed barely any light at all. a few minutes more and the air would be incapable of supporting life. one chance alone remained. they must bore another hole at the very summit of the cone. not that they were unaware of the imminent danger of this measure, for if the ant-hill were really submerged the water from below would immediately expel the remaining air and death must be instantaneous. a few brief words from dick explained the emergency of the crisis. mrs. weldon recognized the necessity,-- "yes, dick, do it; there is nothing else to be done." while she was speaking the light flickered out, and they were in total darkness. mounted on the shoulders of hercules, who was crouching in one of the side-cells, his head only just above water, dick proceeded to force the ramrod into the clay, which at the vertex of the ant-hill was considerably harder and thicker than elsewhere. a strange mingling of hope and fear thrilled through dick sands as he applied his hand to make the opening which was to admit life and air, or the flood of death! the silence of the general expectation was broken by the noise of a sharp hissing; the water rose for eight inches, but all at once it ceased to rise; it had found its level. no need this time to close the orifice; the top of the ant-hill was higher than the top of the flood; and for the present, at least, they could all rejoice that their lives were spared! a general cheer, led by the stentorian voice of hercules, involuntarily broke from the party; cutlasses were brought into action, and the clay crumbled away beneath the vigorous assault that was made upon it. the welcome air was admitted through the new-made aperture, bringing with it the first rays of the rising sun. the summit of the ant-hill once removed, it would be quite easy to clamber to the top, whence it was hoped they would soon get away to some high ground out of reach of the flood. dick was the first to mount the summit; but a cry of dismay burst from his lips! a sound only too well known to travellers in africa broke upon his ear; that sound was the whizzing of arrows. hardly a hundred yards away was a large encampment; whilst, in the water, quite close to the ant-hill where he stood, he saw some long boats full of natives. from one of these had come the volley of arrows which had greeted his appearance above the opening of the cone. to tell his people what had happened was the work of a moment. he seized his gun, and made hercules, bat, and actæon take theirs, and all fired simultaneously at the nearest boat. several of the natives were seen to fall; but shouts of defiance were raised, and shots were fired in return. resistance was manifestly useless. what could they do against a hundred natives? they were assailed on every hand. in accordance with what seemed a preconcerted plan, they were carried off from the ant-hill with brutal violence, in two parties, without the chance of a farewell word or sign. dick sands saw that mrs. weldon, jack, and cousin benedict were placed on board one boat, and were conveyed towards the camp, whilst he himself, with the five negroes and old nan, was forced into another, and taken in a different direction. twenty natives formed a body-guard around them, and five boats followed in their rear. useless though it were, dick and the negroes made one desperate attempt to maintain their freedom; they wounded several of their antagonists, and would doubtless have paid their lives as a penalty for their daring, if there had not been special orders given that they should be taken alive. the passage of the flood was soon accomplished. the boat had barely touched the shore, when hercules with a tremendous bound sprang on to the land. instantly two natives rushed upon him. the giant clave their skulls with the butt end of his gun, and made off. followed though he was by a storm of bullets, he escaped in safety, and disappeared beneath the cover of the woods. [illustration: the giant clave their skulls with the butt end of his gun.] dick sands and the others were guarded to the shore, and fettered like slaves. chapter vii. a slave caravan. the storm of the previous night, by swelling the tributaries of the coanza, had caused the main river to overflow its banks. the inundation had entirely changed the aspect of the country, transforming the plain into a lake, where the peaks of a number of ant-hills were the sole objects that emerged above the watery expanse. the coanza, which is one of the principal rivers of angola, falls into the atlantic about a hundred miles from the spot at which the "pilgrim" was stranded. the stream, which a few years later was crossed by cameron on his way to benguela, seems destined to become the chief highway of traffic between angola and the interior; steamers already ply upon its lower waters, and probably ten years will not elapse before they perform regular service along its entire course. dick sands had been quite right in searching northwards for the navigable stream he had been so anxious to find; the rivulet he had been following fell into the coanza scarce a mile away, and had it not been for this unexpected attack he and his friends might reasonably have hoped to descend the river upon a raft, until they reached one of the portuguese forts where steam vessels put in. but their fate was ordered otherwise. the camp which dick had descried from the ant-hill was pitched upon an eminence crowned by an enormous sycamore-fig, one of those giant trees occasionally found in central africa, of which the spreading foliage will shelter some five hundred men. some of the non-fruit-bearing kind of banyan-trees formed the background of the landscape. beneath the shelter of the sycamore, the caravan which had been referred to in the conversation between negoro and harris had just made a halt. torn from their villages by the agents of the slave-dealer alvez, the large troop of natives was on its way to the market of kazonndé, thence to be sent as occasion required either to the west coast, or to nyangwé, in the great lake district, to be dispersed into upper egypt or zanzibar. immediately on reaching the camp, the four negroes and old nan were placed under precisely the same treatment as the rest of the captives. in spite of a desperate resistance, they were deprived of their weapons, and fastened two and two, one behind another, by means of a pole about six feet long, forked at each end, and attached to their necks by an iron bolt. their arms were left free, that they might carry any burdens, and in order to prevent an attempt to escape a heavy chain was passed round their waists. it was thus in single file, unable to turn either right or left, they would have to march hundreds of miles, goaded along their toilsome road by the havildar's whip. the lot of hercules seemed preferable, exposed though undoubtedly he would be in his flight to hunger, and to the attacks of wild beasts, and to all the perils of that dreary country. but solitude, with its worst privations, was a thing to be envied in comparison to being in the hands of those pitiless drivers, who did not speak a word of the language of their victims, but communicated with them only by threatening gestures or by actual violence. as a white man, dick was not attached to any other captive. the drivers were probably afraid to subject him to the same treatment as the negroes, and he was left unfettered, but placed under the strict surveillance of a havildar. at first he felt considerable surprise at not seeing harris or negoro in the camp, as he could not entertain a doubt that it was at their instigation the attack had been made upon their retreat; but when he came to reflect that mrs. weldon, jack, and cousin benedict had not been allowed to come with them, but had been carried off in some other direction, he began to think it probable that the two rascals had some scheme to carry out with regard to them elsewhere. the caravan consisted of nearly eight hundred, including about five hundred slaves of both sexes, two hundred soldiers and freebooters, and a considerable number of havildars and drivers, over whom the agents acted as superior officers. these agents are usually of portuguese or arab extraction; and the cruelties they inflict upon the miserable captives are almost beyond conception; they beat them continually, and if any unfortunate slave sinks from exhaustion, or in any way becomes unfit for the market, he is forthwith either stabbed or shot. as the result of this brutality it rarely happens that fifty per cent of the slaves reach their destination; some few may contrive to escape, and many are left as skeletons along the line of route. such of the agents as are portuguese are (as it may well be imagined) of the very lowest dregs of society, outlaws, escaped criminals, and men of the most desperate character; of this stamp were the associates of negoro and harris, now in the employ of josé antonio alvez, one of the most notorious of all the slave-dealers of central africa, and of whom commander cameron has given some curious information. most frequently the soldiers who escort the captives are natives hired by the dealers, but they do not possess the entire monopoly of the forays made for the purpose of securing slaves; the native negro kings make war upon each other with this express design, and sell their vanquished antagonists, men, women, and children, to the traders for calico, guns, gunpowder and red beads; or in times of famine, according to livingstone, even for a few grains of maize. the escort of old alvez' caravan was an average specimen of these african soldiers. it was simply a horde of half-naked banditti, carrying old flint-locked muskets, the barrels of which were decorated with copper rings. the agents are very often put to their wits' end to know how to manage them; their orders are called in question, halts are continually demanded, and in order to avert desertion they are frequently obliged to yield to the obstreperous will of their undisciplined force. although the slaves, both male and female, are compelled to carry burdens whilst on their march, a certain number of porters, called _pagazis_, is specially engaged to carry the more valuable merchandize, and principally the ivory. tusks occasionally weigh as much as lbs., and require two men to carry them to the dépôts, whence they are sent to the markets of khartoom, natal, and zanzibar. on their arrival the _pagazis_ are paid by the dealers according to contract, which is generally either by about twenty yards of the cotton stuff known as _merikani_, or by a little powder, by a handful or two of cowries, by some beads, or if all these be scarce, they are paid by being allotted some of the slaves who are otherwise unsalable. among the five hundred slaves in the caravan, very few were at all advanced in years. the explanation of this circumstance was that whenever a raid is made, and a village is set on fire, every inhabitant above the age of forty is mercilessly massacred or hung upon the neighbouring trees; only the children and young adults of both sexes are reserved for the market, and as these constitute only a small proportion of the vanquished, some idea may be formed of the frightful depopulation which these vast districts of equinoctial africa are undergoing. nothing could be more pitiable than the condition of this miserable herd. all alike were destitute of clothing, having nothing on them but a few strips of the stuff known as _mbuza_, made from the bark of trees; many of the women were covered with bleeding wounds from the drivers' lashes, and had their feet lacerated by the constant friction of the road, but in addition to other burdens were compelled to carry their own emaciated children; young men, too, there were who had lost their voices from exhaustion, and who, to use livingstone's expression, had been reduced to "ebony skeletons" by toiling under the yoke of the fork, which is far more galling than the galley-chain. it was a sight that might have moved the most stony-hearted, but yet there was no symptom of compassion on the part of those arab and portuguese drivers whom cameron pronounces "worse than brutes."[ ] [footnote : cameron says, "in order to obtain the fifty women of whom alvez is the owner, ten villages, containing altogether a population of not less than , were totally destroyed. a few of the inhabitants contrived to escape, but the majority either perished in the flames, were slain in defending their families, or were killed by hunger or wild beasts in the jungle.... the crimes which are perpetuated in africa, by men who call themselves christians, seem incredible to the inhabitants of civilized countries. it is impossible that the government at lisbon can be aware of the atrocities committed by those who boast of being subject to her flag." _tour du monde_. n.b.--against these assertions of cameron, loud protestations have been made in portugal.] the guard over the prisoners was so strict that dick sands felt it would be utterly useless for him to make any attempt to seek for mrs. weldon. she and her son had doubtless been carried off by negoro, and his heart sank when he thought of the dangers to which too probably she would be exposed. again and again he repeated his reproaches on himself that he had ever allowed either negoro or harris to escape his hands. neither mrs. weldon nor jack could expect the least assistance from cousin benedict; the good man was barely able to consult for himself. all three of them would, he conjectured, be conveyed to some remote district of angola; the poor mother, like some miserable slave, would insist upon carrying her own sick son until her strength failed her, and, exhausted by her endurances, she sank down helpless on the way. a prisoner, and powerless to help! the very thought was itself a torture to poor dick. even dingo was gone! it would have been a satisfaction to have had the dog to send off upon the track of the lost ones. one only hope remained. hercules still was free. all that human strength could attempt in mrs. weldon's behalf, hercules would not fail to try. perhaps, too, under cover of the night, it was not altogether improbable that the stalwart negro would mingle with the crowd of negroes (amongst whom his dark skin would enable him to pass unnoticed), and make his way to dick himself; then might not the two together elude the vigilance of the watch? might they not follow after and overtake mrs. weldon in the forest? would they not perchance be able either by stealth or by force to liberate her, and once free they would effect an escape to the river, and finally accomplish the undertaking in which they had been so lamentably frustrated. such were the sanguine visions in which dick permitted himself to indulge; his temperament overcame all tendency to despair, and kept him alive to the faintest chance of deliverance. the next thing of importance was to ascertain the destination of the caravan. it was a matter of the most serious moment whether the convoy of slaves were going to be carried to one of the dépôts of angola, or whether they were to be sent hundreds of miles into the interior to nyangwe, in the heart of the great lake district that livingstone was then exploring. to reach the latter spot would occupy some months, and to return thence to the coast, even if they should be fortunate enough to regain their liberty, would be a work of insuperable difficulty. he was not long left in suspense. although he could not understand the half-african, half-arab dialect that was used by the leaders of the caravan, he noticed that the word kazonndé occurred very frequently, and knowing it as the name of an important market in the province, he naturally concluded that it was there the slaves were to be disposed of; whether for the advantage of the king of the district, or of one of the rich traders, he had no means of telling. unless his geographical knowledge was at fault, he was aware that kazonndé must be about miles from s. paul de loanda, and consequently that it could hardly be more than miles from the part of the coanza where they were now encamped. under favourable circumstances it was a journey that could not be accomplished in less than twelve or fourteen days, but allowing for the retarded progress of a caravan already exhausted by a lengthened march, dick was convinced that they could not reach the place for at least three weeks. he was most anxious to communicate to his companions in adversity his impression that they were not to be carried into the heart of the country, and began to cogitate whether some plan could not be devised for exchanging a few words with them. forked together, as it has been said, two and two, the four negroes were at the right-hand extremity of the camp; bat attached to his father, austin to actæon. a havildar, with twelve soldiers, formed their guard. dick, at first, was about fifty yards away from the group, but being left free to move about, contrived gradually to diminish the distance between himself and them. tom seemed to apprehend his intention, and whispered a word to his companions that they should be on the look-out. without moving they were all on their guard in a moment. dick, careful to conceal his design, strolled backward with a feigned indifference, and succeeded in getting so near that he might have called out and informed tom that they were going to kazonndé. but he was desirous of accomplishing more than this; he wanted to get an opportunity of having some conversation as to their future plans, and he ventured to approach still nearer. his heart beat high as he believed he was on the point of attaining his object, when all at once the havildar, becoming aware of his design, rushed upon him like a madman, summoned some soldiers, and with considerable violence sent him back to the front. tom and the others were quickly removed to another part of the encampment. exasperated by the rough attack that was made upon him, dick had seized the havildar's gun and broken it, almost wrenching it from his hands, when several soldiers simultaneously assailed him, and would have struck him down and killed him upon the spot, had not one of the chiefs, an arab of huge stature and ferocious countenance, interfered to stop them. this arab was the ibn hamish of whom harris had spoken to negoro. he said a few words which dick could not understand, and the soldiers, with manifest reluctance, relaxed their hold and retired. it was evident that although dick was not to be permitted to hold any communication with the rest of his party, orders had been given that his life was to be protected. [illustration: the start was made.] it was now nine o'clock, and the beating of drums and the blowing of coodoo[ ] horns gave the signal that the morning march was to be continued. instantly chiefs, soldiers, porters, and slaves were upon their feet, and arranged themselves in their various groups with a havildar bearing a bright-coloured banner at their head. [footnote: coodoo, a ruminant common in africa.] the order was given; the start was made. a strange song was heard rising in the air. it was a song, not of the victors, but of the vanquished. the slaves were chanting an imprecation on their oppressors; and the burden of the chorus was that captured, tortured, slain--after death they would return and avenge their wrongs upon their murderers! chapter viii. notes by the way. the storm of the preceding evening had now passed away, but the sky was still cloudy and the weather far from settled. it was the th of april, the time of the _masika_, or second period of the rainy season, so that for the next two or three weeks the nights might be expected to be wet. on leaving the banks of the coanza the caravan proceeded due east. soldiers marched at the head and in the rear, as well as upon the flanks of the troop; any escape of the prisoners, therefore, even if they had not been loaded with their fetters, would have been utterly impossible. they were all driven along without any attempt at order, the havildars using their whips unsparingly upon them whenever they showed signs of flagging. some poor mothers could be seen carrying two infants, one on each arm, whilst others led by the hand naked children, whose feet were sorely cut by the rough ground over which they had trod. ibn hamish, the arab who had interfered between dick and the havildar, acted as commander to the caravan, and was here, there, and everywhere; not moved in the least by the sufferings of the captives, but obliged to be attentive to the importunities of the soldiers and porters, who were perpetually clamouring for extra rations, or demanding an immediate halt. loud were the discussions that arose, and the uproar became positively deafening when the quarrelsome voices rose above the shrieks of the slaves, many of whom found themselves treading upon soil already stained by the blood of the ranks in front. [illustration: if ever the havildar strolled a few yards away, bat took the opportunity of murmuring a few words of encouragement to this poor old father.] no chance again opened for dick to get any communication with his friends, who had been sent to the van of the procession. urged on by the whip they continued to march in single file, their heads in the heavy forks. if ever the havildar strolled a few yards away, bat took the opportunity of murmuring a few words of encouragement to his poor old father, while he tried to pick out the easiest path for him, and to relax the pace to suit his enfeebled limbs. large tears rolled down old tom's cheeks when he found that his son's efforts only resulted in bringing down upon his back some sharp cuts of the havildar's whip. actæon and austin, subject to hardly less brutality, followed a few steps behind, but all four could not help feeling envious at the luck of hercules, who might have dangers to encounter, but at least had his liberty. immediately upon their capture, tom had revealed to his companions the fact that they were in africa, and informing them how they had been betrayed by harris, made them understand that they had no mercy to expect. old nan had been placed amongst a group of women in the central ranks. she was chained to a young mother with two children, the one at the breast, the other only three years old, and scarcely able to walk. moved by compassion, nan took the little one into her own arms, thus not only saving it from fatigue, but from the blows it would very likely have received for lagging behind. the mother shed tears of gratitude, but the weight was almost too much for nan's strength, and she felt as if she must break down under her self-imposed burden. she thought fondly of little jack, and imagining him borne along in the arms of his weary mother, could not help asking herself whether she should ever see him or her kind mistress again. far in the rear, dick could not see the head of the caravan except occasionally, when the ground was rather on the rise. the voices of the agents and drivers, harsh and excited as they were, scarcely roused him from his melancholy reflections. his thoughts were not of himself nor of his own sufferings; his whole attention was absorbed in looking for some traces of mrs. weldon's progress; if she, too, was being taken to kazonndé, her route must also lie this way. but he could discover no trace of her having been conducted by this line of march, and could only hope that she was being spared the cruelties which he was himself witnessing. the forest extended for about twenty miles to the east of the coanza, but whether it was that the trees had been destroyed by the ravages of insects, or broken down before they had made their growth by being trampled on by elephants, they were growing much less thickly than in the immediate vicinity of the river. there were numbers of cotton-trees, seven or eight feet high, from which are manufactured the black-and-white striped stuffs that are worn in the interior of the province; but, upon the whole, progress was not much impeded either by shrubs or underwood. occasionally the caravan plunged into jungles of reeds like bamboos, their stalks an inch in diameter, so tall that only an elephant or giraffe could have reared above them, and through which none excepting such as had a very intimate knowledge of the country could possibly have made their way. starting every morning at daybreak they marched till noon, when an hour's halt was made. packets of manioc were then unfastened, and doled out in sparing quantities among the slaves; sometimes, when the soldiers had plundered some village, a little goat's flesh or some sweet potatoes were added to the meal; but generally the fatigue, aggravated by inadequate rest, took away the appetite, and when meal-time arrived many of the slaves could hardly eat at all. during the first eight days' march from the coanza no less than twenty unfortunate wretches had fallen upon the road, and had been left behind, a prey to the lions, panthers, and leopards that prowled in the wake. as dick heard their roars in the stillness of the night, he trembled as he thought of hercules. nevertheless, had the opportunity offered itself, he would not for a moment have hesitated in making his own escape to the wilderness. [illustration: the caravan had been attacked on the flank by a dozen or more crocodiles.] the two hundred and fifty miles between the river and kazonndé were accomplished in what the traders call marches of ten miles each, including the halts at night and midday. the journey cannot be better described than by a few rough notes that dick sands made upon his way. _april th_.--saw a village surrounded with bamboo palisading, eight or nine feet high. fields round planted with maize, beans, and sorghum. two negroes captured, fifteen killed, rest took to flight. _ th_.--crossed a torrent yards wide. bridge formed of trunks of trees and creepers. piles nearly gave way; two women fastened to a fork; one of them, carrying a baby, fell into the water. water quickly tinged with blood; crocodiles seen under bridge; risk of stepping into their very jaws. _ th_.--crossed a forest of bauhinias; great trees, the iron-wood of the portuguese. heavy rain; ground sodden; marching difficult. caught sight of nan in the middle of caravan; she was toiling along with a black child in her arms; the woman with her limping, and blood trickling from her shoulder. _ th_.--camp at night under a huge baobab, with white flowers and light green leaves. lions and leopards roaring all night. a soldier fired at a panther. what has become of hercules? _ th_.--rainy season said to be over till november. first touch of african winter. dew very heavy. plains all flooded. easterly winds: difficulty of respiration; susceptibility to fever. no trace of mrs. weldon; cannot tell whether she is ahead. fear jack may have a return of fever. _may th_.--forced to march several stages across flooded plains, water up to the waist; many leeches sticking to the skin. lotus and papyrus upon higher ground. great heavy leaves, like cabbages, beneath the water, make many stumble as they walk. saw large numbers of little fish, silurus-species; these are caught by the natives, and sold to the caravans. _ th_.--plain still inundated. last night, no halting-place to be found. marched on through the darkness. great misery. except for mrs. weldon, life not worth having; for her sake must hold out. loud cries heard. saw, by the lightning, soldiers breaking large boughs from the resinous trees that emerged from the water. the caravan had been attacked on the flank by a dozen or more crocodiles; women and children seized and carried off to what livingstone calls their "pasture-lands," the holes where they deposit their prey until it is decomposed. myself grazed by the scales of one of them. a slave close beside me torn out of the fork, which was snapped in half. how the poor fellow's cry of agony rings in my ear! this morning, twenty missing. tom and the others, thank god! are still alive. they are on in front. once bat made a sharp turn, and tom caught sight of me. nothing to be seen of nan; was she, poor creature, one of those that the crocodiles had got? _ th_.--after twenty-four hours in the water we have crossed the plain. we have halted on a hill. the sun helps to dry us. nothing to eat except a little manioc and a few handfuls of maize. only muddy water to drink. impossible for mrs. weldon to survive these hardships; i hope from my heart that she has been taken some other way. small-pox has broken out in the caravan; those that have it are to be left behind. _ th_.--started at dawn. no stragglers allowed; sick and weary must be kept together by havildars' whip; the losses were considerable. living skeletons all round. rejoiced once more to catch sight of nan. she was not carrying the child any longer; she was alone; the chain was round her waist, but she had the loose end thrown over her shoulder. i got close to her; suppose i am altered, as she did not know me. after i had called her by name several times she stared at me, and at last said, "ah, mr. dick, is it you? you will not see me here much longer." her cadaverous look pained my very soul, but i tried to speak hopefully. poor nan shook her head. "i shall never see my dear mistress again; no, nor master jack; i shall soon die." anxious to help her, i would gladly have carried the end of the chain which she had been obliged to bear because her fellow-prisoner was dead. a rough hand was soon upon my shoulder; a cruel lash had made nan retreat to the general crowd, whilst, at the bidding of an arab chief, i was hustled back to the very hindmost rank of the procession. i overheard the word negoro, in a way that convinced me that it is under the direction of the portuguese that i am subject to this hard indignity. [illustration: [**no caption, or it is cut off]] _ th_.--last night encamped under some large trees on the skirts of a forest. several escaped prisoners recaptured; their punishment barbarously cruel. loud roaring of lions and hyenas heard at nightfall, also snorting of hippopotamuses; probably some lake or water-course not far off. tired, but could not sleep; heard a rustling in the grass; felt sure that something was going to attack me; what could i do? i had no gun. for mrs. weldon's sake, must, if possible, preserve my life. the night was dark; no moon; two eyes gleamed upon me; i was about to utter a cry of alarm; fortunately, i suppressed it; the creature that had sprung to my feet was dingo! the dog licked my hands all over, persisting in rubbing his neck against them, evidently to make me feel there; found a reed fastened to the well-known collar upon which the initials s.v. had so often awakened our curiosity; breaking open the reed, i took a note from inside; it was too dark for me to see to read it. i tried, by caressing dingo, to detain him; but the dog appeared to know that his mission with me was at an end; he licked my hands affectionately, made a sudden bound, and disappeared in the long grass as mysteriously as he had come. the howling of the wild beasts increased. how i dreaded that the faithful creature would become their prey! no more sleep this night for me. it seemed that daylight would never dawn; at length it broke with the suddenness that marks a tropical morn. i was able cautiously to read my note; the handwriting, i knew at a glance, was that of hercules; there were but a few lines in pencil:-- "mrs. weldon and jack carried away in a kitanda. "harris and negoro both with them. mr. benedict too. only a few marches ahead, but cannot be communicated with at present. found dingo wounded by a gun-shot. dear mr. dick, do not despair; keep up your courage. i may help you yet. "your ever true and faithful "hercules." as far as it went, this intelligence was satisfactory. a kitanda, i know, is a kind of litter made of dry grass, protected by a curtain, and carried on the shoulders of two men by a long bamboo. what a relief to know that mrs. weldon and jack have been spared the miseries of this dreadful march! may i not indulge the hope of seeing them at kazonndé? _ th_.--the prisoners getting more and more weary and worn out. blood-stains on the way still more conspicuous. many poor wretches are a mass of wounds. one poor woman for two days has carried her dead child, from which she refuses to be parted. _ th_.--small-pox raging; the road strewn with corpses. still ten days before we reach kazonndé. just passed a tree from which slaves who had died from hunger were hanging by the neck. _ th_.--must not give in, but i am almost exhausted. rains have ceased. we are to make what the dealers call _trikesa_, extra marches in the after-part of the day. road very steep; runs through _nyassi_, tall grass of which the stalks scratch my face, and the seeds get under my tattered clothes and make my skin smart painfully. my boots fortunately are thick, and have not worn out. more slaves sick and abandoned to take their chance. provisions running very short; soldiers and pagazis must be satisfied, otherwise they desert; consequently the slaves are all but starved. "they can eat each other," say the agents. a young slave, apparently in good health, dropped down dead. it made me think of livingstone's description of how free-born men, reduced to slavery, will suddenly press their hand on their side, and die of a broken heart. [illustration: more slaves sick, and abandoned to take their chance.] _ th_.--twenty captives, incapable any longer of keeping pace with the rest, put to death by the havildars, the arab chief offering no opposition. poor old nan one of the victims of this horrible butchery. my foot struck her corpse as i passed, but i was not permitted to give her a decent burial. poor old nan! the first of the survivors of the "pilgrim" to go to her long rest! poor old nan! every night i watch for dingo; but he never comes. has hercules nothing more to communicate? or has any mishap befallen him? if he is alive he will do what mortal strength can do to aid us. chapter ix. kazonndÉ. by the th of may, when the caravan reached kazonndé the number of the slaves had diminished by more than half, so numerous had been the casualties along the road. but the dealers were quite prepared to make a market of their loss; the demand for slaves was very great, and the price must be raised accordingly. angola at that time was the scene of a large negro-traffic, and as the caravans principally wended their way towards the interior, the portuguese authorities at loanda and benguela had practically no power to prevent it. the barracks on the shore were crowded to overflowing with prisoners, the few slave-ships that managed to elude the cruisers being quite inadequate to embark the whole number for the spanish colonies to america. kazonndé, the point whence the caravans diverge to the various parts of the lake district, is situated three miles from the mouth of the coanza, and is one of the most important _lakonis_, or markets of the province. the open marketplace where the slaves are exposed for sale is called the _chitoka_. all the larger towns of central africa are divided into two distinct parts; one occupied by the arab, portuguese, or native merchants, and containing their slave-barracks; the other being the residence of the negro king, often a fierce drunken potentate, whose rule is a reign of terror, and who lives by subsidies allowed him by the traders. the commercial quarter of kazonndé now belonged to josé antonio alvez. it was his largest dépôt, although he had another at bihé, and a third at cassangé, where cameron subsequently met him. it consisted of one long street, on each side of which were groups of flat-roofed houses called _tembés_, built of rough earth, and provided with square yards for cattle. the end of it opened into the _chitoka_, which was surrounded by the barracks. above the houses some fine banyan-trees waved their branches, surmounted here and there by the crests of graceful palms. there was at least a score of birds of prey that hovered about the streets, and came down to perform the office of public scavengers. at no great distance flowed the loohi, a river not yet explored, but which is supposed to be an affluent or sub-affluent of the congo. [illustration: adjoining the commercial quarter was the royal residence.] adjoining the commercial quarter was the royal residence, nothing more nor less than a collection of dirty huts, extending over an area of nearly a square mile. some of these huts were unenclosed; others were surrounded by a palisade of reeds, or by a hedge of bushy figs. in an enclosure within a papyrus fence were about thirty huts appropriated to the king's slaves, another group for his wives, and in the middle, almost hidden by a plantation of manioc, a _tembé_ larger and loftier than the rest, the abode of the monarch himself. he had sorely declined from the dignity and importance of his predecessors, and his army, which by the early portuguese traders had been estimated at , , now numbered less than men; no longer could he afford, as in the good old time, to order a sacrifice of twenty-five or thirty slaves at one offering. his name was moené loonga. little over fifty, he was prematurely aged by drink and debauchery, and scarcely better than a maniac. his subjects, officers, and ministers, were all liable to be mutilated at his pleasure, and noses and ears, feet and hands, were cut off unsparingly whenever his caprice so willed it. his death would have been a cause of regret to no one, with the exception, perhaps, of alvez, who was on very good terms with him. alvez, moreover, feared that in the event of the present king's death, the succession of his chief wife, queen moena, might be disputed, and that his dominions would be invaded by a younger and more active neighbour, one of the kings of ukusu, who had already seized upon some villages dependent on the government of kazonndé, and who was in alliance with a rival trader named tipo-tipo, a man of pure arab extraction, from whom cameron afterwards received a visit at nyangwé. to all intents and purposes alvez was the real sovereign of the district, having fostered the vices of the brutalized king till he had him completely in his power. he was a man considerably advanced in years; he was not (as his name might imply) a white man, but had merely assumed his portuguese title for purposes of business; his true name was kendélé, and he was a pure negro by birth, being a native of dondo on the coanza. he had commenced life as a slave-dealer's agent, and was now on his way towards becoming a first-class trader; that is to say, he was a consummate rascal under the guise of an honest man. he it was whom cameron met at the end of at kilemba, the capital of urua, of which kasongo is chief, and with whose caravan he travelled to bihé, a distance of seven hundred miles. it was midday when the caravan entered kazonndé. the journey from the coanza had lasted thirty-eight days, more than five weeks of misery as great as was within human power to endure. amidst the noise of drums and coodoo-horns the slaves were conducted to the marketplace. the soldiers of the caravan discharged their guns into the air, and old alvez' resident retinue responded with a similar salute. the bandits, than which the soldiers were nothing better, were delighted to meet again, and would celebrate their return by a season of riot and excess. the slaves, reduced to a total of about two hundred and fifty, were many of them almost dead from exhaustion; the forks were removed from their necks, though the chains were still retained, and the whole of them were driven into barracks that were unfit even for cattle, to await (in company with to other captives already there) the great market which would be held two days hence. the _pagazis_, after delivering their loads of ivory, would only stay to receive their payment of a few yards of calico or other stuff, and would then depart at once to join some other caravan. on being relieved from the forks which they had carried for so many weary days, tom and his companions heartily wrung each other's hands, but they could not venture to utter one word of mutual encouragement. the three younger men, more full of life and vigour, had resisted the effects of the fatigue, but poor old tom was nearly exhausted, and had the march been protracted for a few more days he must have shared nan's fate and been left behind, a prey to the wild beasts. upon their arrival all four were packed into a narrow cell, where some food was provided, and the door was immediately locked upon them. the _chitoka_ was now almost deserted, and dick sands was left there under the special charge of a havildar: he lost no opportunity of peering into every hut in the hope of catching a glimpse of mrs. weldon, who, if hercules had not misinformed him, had come on hither just in front. but he was very much perplexed. he could well understand that mrs. weldon, if still a prisoner, would be kept out of sight, but why negoro and harris did not appear to triumph over him in his humiliation was quite a mystery to him. it was likely enough that the presence of either one or the other of them would be the signal for himself to be exposed to fresh indignity, or even to torture, but dick would have welcomed the sight of them at kazonndé, were it only as an indication that mrs. weldon and jack were there also. it disappointed him, too, that dingo did not come back. ever since the dog had brought him the first note, he had kept an answer written ready to send to hercules, imploring him to look after mrs. weldon, and to keep him informed of everything. he began to fear that the faithful creature must be dead, perhaps perished in some attempt to reach himself; it was, however, quite possible that hercules had taken the dog in some other direction, hoping to gain somedépôt in the interior. but so thoroughly had dick persuaded himself that mrs. weldon had preceded him to kazonndé that his disappointment became more and more keen when he failed to discover her. for a while he seemed to yield to despair, and sat down sorrowful and sick at heart. suddenly a chorus of voices and trumpets broke upon his ear; he was startled into taking a new interest in what was going on. "alvez! alvez!" was the cry again and again repeated by the crowd. here, then, was the great man himself about to appear. was it not likely that harris or negoro might be with him? dick stood erect and resolute, his eye vivid with expectation; he felt all eagerness to stand face to face with his betrayers; boy as he was, he was equal to cope with them both. the _kitanda_, which came in sight at the end of the street, was nothing more than a kind of hammock covered by a faded and ragged curtain. an old negro stepped out of it. his attendants greeted him with noisy acclamations. this, then, was the great trader, josé antonio alvez. immediately following him was his friend coïmbra, son of the chief coïmbra of bihé, and, according to cameron, the greatest blackguard in the province. this sworn ally of alvez, this organizer of his slave-raids, this commander, worthy of his own horde of bandits, was utterly loathsome in his appearance, his flesh was filthily dirty, his eyes were bloodshot, his skin yellow, and his long hair all dishevelled. he had no other attire than a tattered shirt, a tunic made of grass, and a battered straw hat, under which his countenance appeared like that of some old hag. alvez himself, whose clothes were like those of an old turk the day after a carnival, was one degree more respectable in appearance than his satellite, not that his looks spoke much for the very highest class of african slave-dealers. to dick's great disappointment, neither harris nor negoro was among his retinue. both alvez and coïmbra shook hands with ibn hamish, the leader of the caravan, and congratulated him on the success of the expedition. alvez made a grimace on being told that half the slaves had died on the way, but on the whole he seemed satisfied; he could meet the demand that at present existed, and would lose no time in bartering the new arrival for ivory or _hannas_, copper in the shape of a st. andrew's cross, the form in which the metal is exported in central africa. after complimenting the havildars upon the way in which they had done their work, the trader gave orders that the porters should be paid and dismissed. the conversations were carried on in a mixture of portuguese and native idioms, in which the african element abounded so largely that a native of lisbon would have been at a loss to understand them. dick, of course, could not comprehend what was said, and it was only when he saw a havildar go towards the cell in which tom and the others were confined, that he realized that the talk was about himself and his party. when the negroes were brought out, dick came close up, being anxious to learn as much as he could of what was in contemplation. the old trader's eyes seemed to brighten as he glanced upon the three strapping young men who, he knew, would soon be restored to their full strength by rest and proper food. they at least would get a good price; as for poor old tom, he was manifestly so broken down by infirmity and age, that he would have no value in the market. in a few words of broken english, which alvez had picked up from some of his agents, he ironically gave them all a welcome. "glad to see you!" he said, with a diabolical grin. tom knew what he meant, and drew himself up proudly. "we are free men!" he protested, "free citizens of the united states!" "yes, yes!" replied alvez, grinning, "you are americans; very glad to see you!" "very glad to see you!" echoed coïmbra, and walking up to austin he felt his chest and shoulders, and then proceeded to open his mouth in order to examine his teeth. a blow from austin's powerful fist sent the satellite staggering backwards. some soldiers made a dash and seized the young negro, evidently ready to make him pay dearly for his temerity; but alvez was by no means willing to have any injury done to his newly-acquired property, and called them off. he hardly attempted to conceal his amusement at coïmbra's discomfiture, although the blow had cost him one of his front teeth. after he had recovered somewhat from the shock, coïmbra stood scowling at austin, as if mentally vowing vengeance on some future occasion. dick sands was now himself brought forward in the custody of a havildar. it was clear that alvez had been told all about him, for after scanning him for a moment, he stammered out in his broken english,-- "ah! ah! the little yankee!" "yes," replied dick; "i see you know who i am. what are you going to do with me and my friends?" "yankee! little yankee!" repeated the trader, who either did not or would not comprehend the meaning of dick's question. dick turned to coïmbra and made the same inquiry of him; in spite of his degraded features, now still farther disfigured by being swollen from the blow, it was easy to recognize that he was not of native origin. he refused to answer a word, and only stared again with the vicious glare of malevolence. meanwhile, alvez had begun to talk to ibn hamish. dick felt sure that they intended to separate him from the negroes, and accordingly took the opportunity of whispering a few words to them. "my friends, i have heard from hercules. dingo brought me a note from him, tied round his neck. he says harris and negoro have carried off mrs. weldon, jack, and mr. benedict. he did not know where. have patience, and we will find them yet." [illustration: with a yell and a curse, the american fell dead at his feet.] "and where's nan?" muttered tom, in a low voice. "dead," replied dick, and was about to add more, when a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a voice that he knew too well exclaimed,-- "well, my young friend, how are you? i am glad to see you again." he turned round quickly. harris stood before him. "where is mrs. weldon?" asked dick impetuously. "ah, poor thing!" answered harris, with an air of deep commiseration. "what! is she dead?" dick almost shrieked; "where is her child?" "poor little fellow!" said harris, in the same mournful tone. these insinuations, that those in whose welfare he was so deeply interested had succumbed to the hardships of the journey, awoke in dick's mind a sudden and irresistible desire for vengeance. darting forwards he seized the cutlass that harris wore in his belt, and plunged it into his heart. with a yell and a curse, the american fell dead at his feet. chapter x. market-day. so sudden was dick's action that it had been impossible to parry his blow. several of the natives rushed on him, and in all likelihood would have struck him down upon the spot had not negoro arrived at that very moment. at a sign from him the natives drew back, and proceeded to raise and carry away harris's corpse. alvez and coïmbra were urgent in their demand that dick should forthwith be punished by death, but negoro whispered to them that they would assuredly be the gainers by delay, and they accordingly contented themselves with ordering the youth to be placed under strict supervision. this was the first time that dick had set eyes upon negoro since he had left the coast; nevertheless, so heartbroken was he at the intelligence he had just received, that he did not deign to address a word to the man whom he knew to be the real author of all his misery. he cared not now what became of him. loaded with chains, he was placed in the dungeon where alvez was accustomed to confine slaves who had been condemned to death for mutiny or violence. that he had no communication with the outer world gave him no concern; he had avenged the death of those for whose safety he had felt himself responsible, and could now calmly await the fate which he could not doubt was in store for him; he did not dare to suppose that he had been temporarily spared otherwise than that he might suffer the cruellest tortures that native ingenuity could devise. that the "pilgrim's" cook now held in his power the boy captain he so thoroughly hated was warrant enough that the sternest possible measure of vengeance would be exacted. [illustration: accompanied by coïmbra, alvez himself was one of the first arrivals.] two days later, the great market, the _lakoni_, commenced. although many of the principal traders were there from the interior, it was by no means exclusively a slave-mart; a considerable proportion of the natives from the neighbouring provinces assembled to dispose of the various products of the country. quite early the great _chitoka_ of kazonndé was all alive with a bustling concourse of little under five thousand people, including the slaves of old alvez, amongst whom were tom and his three partners in adversity--an item by no means inconsiderable in the dealer's stock. accompanied by coïmbra, alvez himself was one of the first arrivals. he was going to sell his slaves in lots to be conveyed in caravans into the interior. the dealers for the most part consisted of half-breeds from ujiji, the principal market on lake tanganyika, whilst some of a superior class were manifestly arabs. the natives that were assembled were of both sexes, and of every variety of age, the women in particular displaying an aptitude in making bargains that is shared by their sisters elsewhere of a lighter hue; and it may be said that no market of the most civilized region could be characterized by greater excitement or animation, for amongst the savages of africa the customer makes his offer in equally noisy terms as the vendor. the _lakoni_ was always considered a kind of fète-day; consequently the natives of both sexes, though their clothing was scanty in extent, made a point of appearing in a most lavish display of ornaments. their head-gear was most remarkable. the men had their hair arranged in every variety of eccentric device; some had it divided into four parts, rolled over cushions and fastened into a chignon, or mounted in front into a bunch of tails adorned with red feathers; others plastered it thickly with a mixture of red mud and oil similar to that used for greasing machinery, and formed it into cones or lumps, into which they inserted a medley of iron pins and ivory skewers; whilst the greatest dandies had a glass bead threaded upon every single hair, the whole being fastened together by a tattooing-knife driven through the glittering mass. as a general rule, the women preferred dressing their hair in little tufts about the size of a cherry, arranging it into the shape of a cap, with corkscrew ringlets on each side of the face. some wore it simply hanging down their backs, others in french fashion, with a fringe across the forehead; but every _coiffure_, without exception, was daubed and caked either with the mixture of mud and grease, or with a bright red extract of sandal-wood called _nkola_. but it was not only on their heads that they made this extraordinary display of ornaments; the lobes of their ears were loaded till they reached their shoulders with a profusion of wooden pegs, open-work copper rings, grains of maize, or little gourds, which served the purpose of snuff-boxes; their necks, arms, wrists, legs, and ankles were a perfect mass of brass and copper rings, or sometimes were covered with a lot of bright buttons. rows of red beads, called _sames-sames_, or _talakas_, seemed also very popular. as they had no pockets, they attached their knives, pipes and other articles to various parts of their body; so that altogether, in their holiday attire, the rich men of the district might not inappropriately be compared to walking shrines. with their teeth they had all played the strangest of vagaries; the upper and lower incisors had generally been extracted, and the others had been filed to points or carved into hooks, like the fangs of a rattle-snake. their fingernails were allowed to grow to such an immoderate length as to render the hands well-nigh useless, and their swarthy skins were tattooed with figures of trees, birds, crescents and discs, or, not unfrequently, with those zigzag lines which livingstone thinks he recognizes as resembling those observed in ancient egyptian drawings. the tattooing is effected by means of a blue substance inserted into incisions previously made in the skin. every child is tattooed in precisely the same pattern as his father before him, and thus it may always be ascertained to what family he belongs. instead of carrying his armorial bearings upon his plate or upon the panels of his carriage, the african magnate wears them emblazoned on his own bosom! the garments that were usually worn were simply aprons of antelope-skins descending to the knees, but occasionally a short petticoat might be seen made of woven grass and dyed with bright colours. the ladies not unfrequently wore girdles of beads attached to green skirts embroidered with silk and ornamented with bits of glass or cowries, or sometimes the skirts were made of the grass cloth called _lambda_, which, in blue, yellow, or black, is so much valued by the people of zanzibar. garments of these pretensions, however, always indicated that the wearers belonged to the upper classes; the lower orders, such as the smaller dealers, as well as the slaves, had hardly any clothes at all. the women commonly acted as porters, and arrived at the market with huge baskets on their backs, which they secured by means of straps passed across the forehead. having deposited their loads upon the chitoka, they turned out their goods, and then seated themselves inside the empty baskets. as the result of the extreme fertility of the country all the articles offered for sale were of a first-rate quality. there were large stores of rice, which had been grown at a profit a hundred times as great as the cost, and maize which, producing three crops in eight months, yielded a profit as large again as the rice. there were also sesame, urua pepper stronger than cayenne, manioc, nutmegs, salt, and palm-oil. in the market, too, were hundreds of goats, pigs and sheep, evidently of a tartar breed, with hair instead of wool; and there was a good supply of fish and poultry. besides all these there was an attractive display of bright-coloured pottery, the designs of which were very symmetrical. in shrill, squeaky voices, children were crying several varieties of native drinks; banana-wine, _pombé_, which, whatever it was, seemed to be in great demand; _malofoo_, a kind of beer compounded of bananas, and mead, a mixture of honey and water, fermented with malt. but the most prominent feature in the whole market was the traffic in stuffs and ivory. the pieces could be counted by thousands of the unbleached _mcrikani_ from salem in massachusetts, of the blue cotton, _kaniki_, thirty-four inches wide, and of the checked _sohari_, blue and black with its scarlet border. more expensive than these were lots of silk _diulis_, with red, green, or yellow grounds, which are sold in lengths of three yards, at prices varying from seven dollars to eighty, when they are interwoven with gold. the ivory had come from well-nigh every part of central africa, and was destined for khartoom, zanzibar, and natal, many of the merchants dealing in this commodity exclusively. how vast a number of elephants must be slaughtered to supply this ivory may be imagined when it is remembered that over tons, that is, , , lbs., are exported annually to europe. of this, much the larger share goes to england, where the sheffield cutlery consumes about , lbs. from the west coast of africa alone the produce is nearly tons. the average weight of a pair of tusks is lbs., and the ordinary value of these in would be about _l_.; but here in kazonndé were some weighing no less than lbs., of that soft, translucent quality which retains its whiteness far better than the ivory from other sources. as already mentioned, slaves are not unfrequently used as current money amongst the african traders, but the natives themselves usually pay for their goods with venetian glass beads, of which the chalk-white are called _catchokolos_, the black _bubulus_, and the red _sikunderetches_. strung in ten rows, or _khetés_, these beads are twisted twice round the neck, forming what is called a _foondo_, which is always reckoned of considerable value. the usual measure by which they are sold is the _frasilah_, containing a weight of about lbs. livingstone, cameron and stanley always took care to be well provided with this kind of currency. in default of beads, the picé, a zanzibar coin worth something more than a farthing, and _vioon-gooas,_ shells peculiar to the east coast, are recognized as a medium of exchange in the market. amongst the cannibal tribes a certain value is attached to human teeth, and at the lakoni some natives might be seen wearing strings of teeth, the owners of which they had probably, at some previous time, devoured. this species of currency, however, was falling rapidly into disuse. towards the middle of the day the excitement of the market reached its highest pitch, and the uproar became perfectly deafening. the voices of the eager sellers mingled with those of indignant and overcharged customers; fights were numerous, and as there was an utter absence of any kind of police, no effort was made to restore peace or order amongst the unruly crowd. it was just noon when alvez gave orders that the slaves he wished to dispose of should be placed on view. thereupon nearly two thousand unfortunates were brought forward, many of whom had been confined in the dealer's barracks for several months. most of the stock, however, had been so carefully attended to that they were in good condition, and it was only the last batch that looked as if they would be improved by another month's rest; but as the demand upon the east coast was now very large, alvez hoped to get a good price for all, and determined to part with even the last arrivals for whatever sum he could obtain. amongst these latter, whom the havildars drove like a herd of cattle into the middle of the chitoka, were tom and his three friends. they were closely chained, and rage and shame were depicted in their countenances. bat passed a quick and scrutinizing gaze around him, and said to the others,-- "i do not see mr. dick." tom answered mournfully,-- "mr. dick will be killed, if he is not dead already. our only hope is that we may now all be bought in one lot; it will be a consolation to us if we can be all together." tears rose to bat's eyes as he thought of how his poor old father was likely to be sold, and carried away to wear out his days as a common slave. the sale now commenced. the agents of alvez proceeded to divide the slaves, men, women and children, into lots, treating them in no respect better than beasts in a cattle-market. tom and the others were paraded about from customer to customer, an agent accompanying them to proclaim the price demanded. strong, intelligent-looking americans, quite different to the miserable creatures brought from the banks of the zambesi and lualaba, they at once attracted the observation of the arab and half-breed dealers. just as though they were examining a horse, the buyers felt their limbs, turned them round and round, looked at their teeth, and finally tested their paces by throwing a stick to a distance and making them run to fetch it. all the slaves were subjected to similar humiliations; and ail alike, except the very young children, seemed deeply sensible of their degradation. the cruelty exhibited towards them was very vile. coïmbra, who was half drunk, treated them with the utmost brutality; not that they had any reason to expect any gentler dealings at the hands of the new masters who might purchase them for ivory or any other commodity. children were torn away from their parents, husbands from their wives, brothers from sisters, and without even the indulgence of a parting word, were separated never to meet again. the scenes that occur at such markets as this at kazonndé are too heartrending to be described in detail. it is one of the peculiar requirements of the slave-trade that the two sexes should have an entirely different destination. in fact, the dealers who purchase men never purchase women. the women, who are required to supply the mussulman harems, are sent principally to arab districts to be exchanged for ivory; whilst the men, who are to be put to hard labour, are despatched to the coast, east and west, whence they are exported to the spanish colonies, or to the markets of muscat or madagascar. to tom and his friends the prospect of being transported to a slave colony was far better than that of being retained in some central african province, where they could have no chance of regaining their liberty; and the moment, to them, was accordingly one of great suspense. altogether, things turned out for them better than they dared anticipate. they had at least the satisfaction of finding that as yet they were not to be separated. alvez, of course, had taken good care to conceal the origin of this exceptional lot, and their own ignorance of the language thoroughly prevented them from communicating it; but the anxiety to secure so valuable a property rendered the competition for it very keen; the bidding rose higher and higher, until at length the four men were knocked down to a rich arab dealer, who purposed in the course of a few days to take them to lake tanganyika, and thence to one of the deptôs of zanzibar. this journey, it is true, would be for miles across the most unhealthy parts of central africa, through districts harassed by internal wars; and it seemed improbable that tom could survive the hardships he must meet; like poor old nan, he would succumb to fatigue; but the brave fellows did not suffer themselves to fear the future, they were only too happy to be still together; and the chain that bound them one to another was felt to be easier and lighter to bear. their new master knew that it was for his own interest that his purchase should be well taken care of; he looked to make a substantial profit at zanzibar, and sent them off at once to his own private barracks; consequently they saw no more of what transpired at kazonndé. chapter xi. a bowl of punch. the afternoon was passing away, and it was now past four o'clock, when the sound of drums, cymbals, and a variety of native instruments was heard at the end of the main thoroughfare. the market was still going on with the same animation as before; half a day's screeching and fighting seemed neither to have wearied the voices nor broken the limbs of the demoniacal traffickers; there was a considerable number of slaves still to be disposed of, and the dealers were haggling over the remaining lots with an excitement of which a sudden panic on the london stock exchange could give a very inadequate conception. but the discordant concert which suddenly broke upon the ear was the signal for business to be at once suspended. the crowd might cease its uproar, and recover its breath. the king of kazonndé, moené loonga, was about to honour the _lakoni_ with a visit. attended by a large retinue of wives, officers, soldiers, and slaves, the monarch was conveyed to the middle of the market-place in an old palanquin, from which he was obliged to have five or six people to help him to descend. alvez and the other traders advanced to meet him with the most exaggerated gestures of reverence, all of which he received as his rightful homage. he was a man of fifty years of age, but might easily have passed for eighty. he looked like an old, decrepit monkey. on his head was a kind of tiara, adorned with leopards' claws dyed red, and tufts of greyish-white hair; this was the usual crown of the sovereigns of kazonndé. from his waist hung two skirts of coodoo-hide, stiff as blacksmiths' aprons, and embroidered with pearls. the tattooings on his breast were so numerous that his pedigree, which they declared, might seem to reach back to time immemorial. his wrists and arms were encased in copper bracelets, thickly encrusted with beads; he wore a pair of top-boots, a present from alvez some twenty years ago; in his left hand he carried a great stick surmounted by a silver knob; in his right a fly-flapper with a handle studded with pearls; over his head was carried an old umbrella with as many patches as a harlequin's coat, whilst from his neck hung cousin benedict's magnifying-glass, and on his nose were the spectacles which had been stolen from bat's pocket. [illustration: the potentate beneath whose sway the country trembled for a hundred miles round] such was the appearance of the potentate beneath whose sway the country trembled for a hundred miles round. by virtue of his sovereignty moené loonga claimed to be of celestial origin; and any subject who should have the audacity to raise a question on this point would have been despatched forthwith to another world. all his actions, his eating and drinking, were supposed to be performed by divine impulse. he certainly drank like no other mortal; his officers and ministers, confirmed tipplers as they were, appeared sober men in comparison with himself, and he seemed never to be doing anything but imbibing strong pombé, and over-proof spirit with which alvez kept him liberally supplied. in his harem moené loonga had wives of all ages from forty to fourteen, most of whom accompanied him on his visit to the _lakoni_. moena, the chief wife, who was called the queen, was the eldest of them all, and, like the rest, was of royal blood. she was a vixenish-looking woman, very gaily attired; she wore a kind of bright tartan over a skirt of woven grass, embroidered with pearls; round her throat was a profusion of necklaces, and her hair was mounted up in tiers that toppled high above her head, making her resemble some hideous monster. the younger wives, all of them sisters or cousins of the king, were less elaborately dressed. they walked behind her, ready at the slightest sign to perform the most menial services. did his majesty wish to sit down, two of them would immediately stoop to the ground and form a seat with their bodies, whilst others would have to lie down and support his feet upon their backs: a throne and footstool of living ebony. amidst the staggering, half-tipsy crowd of ministers, officers, and magicians that composed moené loonga's suite, there was hardly a man to be seen who had not lost either an eye, an ear, or hand, or nose. death and mutilation were the only two punishments practised in kazonndé, and the slightest offence involved the instant amputation of some member of the body. the loss of the ear was considered the severest penalty, as it prevented the possibility of wearing earrings! the governors of districts, or _kilolos_, whether hereditary or appointed for four years, were distinguished by red waistcoats and zebra-skin caps; in their hands they brandished long rattans, coated at one extremity with a varnish of magic drugs. the weapons carried by the soldiers consisted of wooden bows adorned with fringes and provided with a spare bowstring, knives filed into the shape of serpents' tongues, long, broad lances, and shields of palm wood, ornamented with arabesques. in the matter of uniform, the royal army had no demands to make upon the royal treasury. amongst the attendants of the king there was a considerable number of sorcerers and musicians. the sorcerers, or _mganga_, were practically the physicians of the court, the savages having the most implicit faith in divinations and incantations of every kind, and employing fetishes, clay or wooden figures, representing sometimes ordinary human beings and sometimes fantastic animals. like the rest of the retinue, these magicians were, for the most part, more or less mutilated, an indication that some of their prescriptions on behalf of the king had failed of success. the musicians were of both sexes, some performing on shrill rattles, some on huge drums, whilst others played on instruments called _marimbas_, a kind of dulcimer made of two rows of different-sized gourds fastened in a frame, and struck by sticks with india-rubber balls at the end. to any but native ears the music was perfectly deafening. [illustration: alvez advanced and presented the king with some fresh tobacco.] several flags and banners were carried in the procession, and amongst these was mixed up a number of long pikes, upon which were stuck the skulls of the various chiefs that moené loonga had conquered in battle. as the king as helped out of his palanquin, the acclamations rose higher and higher from every quarter of the market place the soldiers attached to the caravans fired off their old guns, though the reports were almost too feeble to be heard above the noisy vociferations of the crowd; and the havildars rubbed their black noses with cinnabar powder, which they carried in bags, and prostrated themselves. alvez advanced and presented the king with some fresh tobacco, "the appeasing herb," as it is called in the native dialect; and certainly moené loonga seemed to require some appeasing, as, for some unknown reason, he was in a thoroughly bad temper. coïmbra, ibn hamish and the dealers all came forward to pay their court to the monarch, the arabs greeting him with the cry of _marhaba_, or welcome; others clapped their hands and bowed to the very ground; while some even smeared themselves with mud, in token of their most servile subjection. but moené loonga scarcely took notice of any of them; he went staggering along, rolling like a ship upon a stormy sea, and made his way past the crowds of slaves, each of whom, no less than their masters, trembled lest he should think fit to claim them for his own. negoro, who kept close at alvez' side, did not fail to render his homage along with the rest. alvez and the king were carrying on a conversation in the native language, if that could be called a conversation in which moené loonga merely jerked out a few monosyllables from his inflamed and swollen lips. he was asking alvez to replenish his stock of brandy. "we are proud to welcome your majesty at the market of kazonndé," alvez was saying. "get me brandy," was all the drunken king's reply. "will it please your majesty to take part in the business of the _lakoni_?" alvez tried to ask. "drink!" blurted out the king impatiently. alvez continued,-- "my friend negoro here is anxious to greet your majesty after his long absence." "drink!" roared the monarch again. "will the king take pombé or mead?" asked alvez, at last obliged to take notice of the demand. "brandy! give me fire-water!" yelled the king, in a fury. "for every drop you shall have ..." "a drop of a white man's blood!" suggested negoro, glancing at alvez. "yes, yes; kill a white man," assented moené loonga, his ferocious instincts all aroused by the proposition. "there is a white man here," said alvez, "who has killed my agent. he must be punished for his act." "send him to king masongo!" cried the king; "masongo and the assuas will cut him up and eat him alive." only too true it is that cannibalism is still openly practised in certain provinces of central africa. livingstone records that the manyuemas not only eat men killed in war, but even buy slaves for that purpose; it is said to be the avowal of these manyuemas that "human flesh is slightly salt, and requires no seasoning." cameron relates how in the dominions of moené booga dead bodies were soaked for a few days in running water as a preparation for their being devoured; and stanley found traces of a widely-spread cannibalism amongst the inhabitants of ukusu. but however horrible might be the manner of death proposed by moené loonga, it did not at all suit negoro's purpose to let dick sands out of his clutches. "the white man is here," he said to the king; "it is here he has committed his offence, and here he should be punished." "if you will," replied moené loonga; "only i must have fire-water; a drop of fire-water for every drop of the white man's blood." "yes, you shall have the fire-water," assented alvez, "and what is more, you shall have it all alight. we will give your majesty a bowl of blazing punch." the thought had struck alvez, and he was himself delighted with the idea, that he would set the spirit in flames. moené loonga had complained that the "fire-water" did not justify its name as it ought, and alvez hoped that perhaps, administered in this new form, it might revivify the deadened membranes of the palate of the king. moené loonga did not conceal his satisfaction. wives and courtiers alike were full of anticipation. they had all drunk brandy, but they had not drunk brandy alight. and not only was their thirst for alcohol to be satisfied; their thirst for blood was likewise to be indulged; and when it is remembered how, even amongst the civilized, drunkenness reduces a man below the level of a brute, it may be imagined to what barbarous cruelties dick sands was likely to be exposed. the idea of torturing a white man was not altogether repugnant to the coloured blood of either alvez or coïmbra, while with negoro the spirit of vengeance had completely overpowered all feeling of compunction. night, without any intervening twilight, was soon drawing on, and the contemplated display could hardly fail to be effective. the programme for the evening consisted of two parts; first, the blazing punch-bowl; then the torture, culminating in an execution. the destined victim was still closely confined in his dark and dreary dungeon; all the slaves, whether sold or not, had been driven back to the barracks, and the chitoka was cleared of every one except the slave-dealers, the havildars, and the soldiers, who hoped, by favour of the king, to have a share of the flaming punch. alvez did not long delay the proceedings. he ordered a huge caldron, capable of containing more than twenty gallons, to be placed in the centre of the market-place. into this were emptied several casks of highly-rectified spirit, of a very inferior quality, to which was added a supply of cinnamon and other spices, no ingredient being omitted which was likely to give a pungency to suit the savage palate. the whole royal retinue formed a circle round the king. fascinated by the sight of the spirit, moené loonga came reeling up to the edge of the punch-bowl, and seemed ready to plunge himself head foremost into it. alvez held him back, at the same time placing a lucifer in his hand. "set it alight!" cried the slave-dealer, grinning slily as he spoke. the king applied the match to the surface of the spirit. the effect was instantaneous. high above the edge of the bowl the blue flame rose and curled. to give intensity to the process alvez had added a sprinkling of salt to the mixture, and this caused the fire to cast upon the faces of all around that lurid glare which is generally associated with apparitions of ghosts and phantoms. half intoxicated already, the negroes yelled and gesticulated; and joining hands, they performed a fiendish dance around their monarch. alvez stood and stirred the spirit with an enormous metal ladle, attached to a pole, and as the flames rose yet higher and higher they seemed to throw a more and more unearthly glamour over the ape-like forms that circled in their wild career. moené loonga, in his eagerness, soon seized the ladle from the slave-dealer's hands, plunged it deep into the bowl, and bringing it up again full of the blazing punch, raised it to his lips. a horrible shriek brought the dancers to a sudden standstill. by a kind of spontaneous combustion, the king had taken fire internally; though it was a fire that emitted little heat, it was none the less intense and consuming. in an instant one of the ministers in attendance ran to the king's assistance, but he, almost as much alcoholized as his master, caught fire as well, and soon both monarch and minister lay writhing on the ground in unutterable agony. not a soul was able to lend a helping hand. alvez and negoro were at a loss what to do; the courtiers dared not expose themselves to so terrible a fate; the women had all fled in alarm, and coïmbra, awakened to the conviction of the inflammability of his own condition, had rapidly decamped. [illustration: the king had taken fire internally.] to say the truth, it was impossible to do anything; water would have proved unavailing to quench the pale blue flame that hovered over the prostrate forms, every tissue of which was so thoroughly impregnated with spirit, that combustion, though outwardly extinguished, would continue its work internally. in a few minutes life was extinct, but the bodies continued long afterwards to burn; until, upon the spot where they had fallen, a few light ashes, some fragments of the spinal column, some fingers and some toes, covered with a thin layer of stinking soot, were all that remained of the king of kazonndé and his ill fated minister. chapter xii. royal obsequies. on the following morning the town of kazonndé presented an aspect of unwonted desolation. awe-struck at the event of the previous evening, the natives had all shut themselves up in their huts. that a monarch who was to be assumed as of divine origin should perish with one of his ministers by so horrible a death was a thing wholly unparalleled in their experience. some of the elder part of the community remembered having taken part in certain cannibal preparations, and were aware that the cremation of a human body is no easy matter, yet here was a case in which two men had been all but utterly consumed without any extraneous application. here was a mystery that baffled all their comprehension. old alvez had also retired to the seclusion of his own residence; having been warned by negoro that he would probably be held responsible for the occurrence, he deemed it prudent to keep in retirement. meanwhile negoro industriously circulated the report that the king's death had been brought about by supernatural means reserved by the great manitoo solely for his elect, and that it was sacred fire that had proceeded from his body. the superstitious natives readily received this version of the affair, and at once proceeded to honour moené loonga with funeral rites worthy of one thus conspicuously elevated to the rank of the gods. the ceremony (which entailed an expenditure of human blood incredible except that it is authenticated by cameron and other african travellers) was just the opportunity that negoro required for carrying out his designs against dick, whom he intended to take a prominent part in it. the natural successor to the king was the queen moena. by inaugurating the funeral without delay and thus assuming the semblance of authority, she forestalled the king of ukusu or any other rival who might venture to dispute her sovereignty; and moreover, by taking the reins of government into her hands she avoided the fate reserved for the other wives who, had they been allowed to live, might prove somewhat troublesome to the shrew. accordingly, with the sound of coodoo horns and marimbas, she caused a proclamation to be made in the various quarters of the town, that the obsequies of the deceased monarch would be celebrated on the next evening with all due solemnity. the announcement met with no opposition either from the officials about the court or from the public at large. alvez and the traders generally were quite satisfied with moena's assumption of the supremacy, knowing that by a few presents and a little flattery they could make her sufficiently considerate for their own interests. preparations began at once. at the end of the chief thoroughfare flowed a deep and rapid brook, an affluent of the coango, in the dry bed of which the royal grave was to be formed. natives were immediately set to work to construct a dam by means of which the water should be diverted, until the burial was over, into a temporary channel across the plain; the last act in the ceremonial being to undam the stream and allow it to resume its proper course. negoro had formed the resolution that dick sands should be one of the victims to be sacrificed upon the king's tomb. thoroughly aware as he was that the indignation which had caused the death of harris extended in at least an equal degree to himself, the cowardly rascal would not have ventured to approach dick under similar circumstances at the risk of meeting a similar fate; but knowing him to be a prisoner bound hand and foot, from whom there could be nothing to fear, he resolved to go to him in his dungeon-* not only did he delight in torturing his victims, but he derived an especial gratification from witnessing the torture. about the middle of the day, accordingly, he made his way to the cell where dick was detained under the strict watch of a havildar. there, bound with fetters that penetrated his very flesh, lay the poor boy; for the last four and twenty hours he had not been allowed a morsel of food, and would gladly have faced the most painful death as a welcome relief to his miseries. but at the sight of negoro all his energy revived; instinctively he made an effort to burst his bonds, and to get a hold upon his persecutor; but the strength of a giant would have been utterly unavailing for such a design. dick felt that the struggle he had to make was of another kind, and forcing himself to an apparent composure, he determined to look negoro straight in the face, but to vouchsafe no reply to anything he might say. "i felt bound," negoro began, "to come and pay my respects to my young captain, and to tell him how sorry i am that he has not the same authority here that he had on board the 'pilgrim.'" finding that dick returned no answer, he continued,-- "you remember your old cook, captain: i have come to know what you would like to order for your breakfast." here he paused to give a brutal kick at dick's foot, and went on,-- "i have also another question to ask you, captain; can you tell me how it was that you landed here in angola instead of upon the coast of america?" the way in which the question was put more than ever confirmed dick's impression that the "pilgrim's" course had been altered by negoro, but he persevered in maintaining a contemptuous silence. "it was a lucky thing for you, captain," resumed the vindictive portuguese, "that you had a good seaman on board, otherwise the ship would have run aground on some reef in the tempest, instead of coming ashore here in a friendly port." [illustration: "your life is in my hands!"] whilst he was speaking, negoro had gradually drawn nearer to the prisoner, until their faces were almost in contact. exasperated by dick's calmness, his countenance assumed an expression of the utmost ferocity, and at last he burst forth in a paroxysm of rage. "it is my turn now! i am master now! i am captain here! you are in my power now! your life is in my hands!" "take it, then," said dick quietly; "death has no terrors for me, and your wickedness will soon be avenged." "avenged!" roared negoro; "do you suppose there is a single soul to care about you? avenged! who will concern himself with what befalls you? except alvez and me, there is no one with a shadow of authority here; if you think you are going to get any help from old tom or any of those niggers, let me tell you that they are every one of them sold and have been sent off to zanzibar." "hercules is free," said dick. "hercules!" sneered negoro; "he has been food for lions and panthers long ago, i am only sorry that i did not get the chance of disposing of him myself." "and there is dingo," calmly persisted dick; "sure as fate, he will find you out some day." "dingo is dead!" retorted negoro with malicious glee: "i shot the brute myself, and i should be glad if every survivor of the 'pilgrim' had shared his fate." "but remember," said dick, "you have to follow them all yourself;" and he fixed a sharp gaze upon his persecutor's eye. the portuguese villain was stung to the quick; he made a dash towards the youth, and would have strangled him upon the spot, but remembering that any such sudden action would be to liberate him from the torture he was determined he should undergo, he controlled his rage, and after giving strict orders to the havildar, who had been a passive spectator of the scene, to keep a careful watch upon his charge, he left the dungeon. so far from depressing dick's spirits, the interview had altogether a contrary effect; his feelings had undergone a reaction, so that all his energies were restored. possibly negoro in his sudden assault had unintentionally loosened his fetters, for he certainly seemed to have greater play for his limbs, and fancied that by a slight effort he might succeed in disengaging his arms. even that amount of freedom, however, he knew could be of no real avail to him; he was a closely-guarded prisoner, without hope of succour from without; and now he had no other wish than cheerfully to meet the death that should unite him to the friends who had gone before. the hours passed on. the gleams of daylight that penetrated the thatched roof of the prison gradually faded into darkness; the few sounds on the chitoka, a great contrast to the hubbub of the day, became hushed into silence, and night fell upon the town of kazonndé. dick sands slept soundly for about a couple of hours, and woke up considerably refreshed. one of his arms, which was somewhat less swollen than the other, he was able to withdraw from its bonds; it was at any rate a relief to stretch it at his pleasure. the havildar, grasping the neck of a brandy-bottle which he had just drained, had sunk into a heavy slumber, and dick sands was contemplating the possibility of getting posssession of his gaoler's weapons when his attention was arrested by a scratching at the bottom of the door. by the help of his liberated arm he contrived to crawl noiselessly to the threshold, where the scratching increased in violence. for a moment he was in doubt whether the noise proceeded from the movements of a man or an animal. he gave a glance at the havildar, who was sound asleep, and placing his lips against the door murmured "hercules!" a low whining was the sole reply. "it must be dingo," muttered dick to himself; "negoro may have told me a lie; perhaps, after all, the dog is not dead." as though in answer to his thoughts, a dog's paw was pushed below the door. dick seized it eagerly; he had no doubt it was dingo's; but if the dog brought a message, it was sure to be tied to his neck, and there seemed to be no means of getting at it, except the hole underneath could be made large enough to admit the animal's head. dick determined to try and scrape away the soil at the threshold, and commenced digging with his nails. but he had scarcely set himself to his task when loud barkings, other than dingo's, were heard in the distance. the faithful creature had been scented out by the native dogs, and instinct dictated an immediate flight. alarm had evidently been taken, as several gun-shots were fired; the havildar half roused himself from his slumber, and dick was fain to roll himself once more into his corner, there to await the dawn of the day which was intended to be his last. [illustration: all his energies were restored.] throughout that day, the grave-digging was carried on with unremitted activity. a large number of the natives, under the superintendence of the queen's prime minister, were set to work, and according to the decree of moena, who seemed resolved to continue the rigorous sway of her departed husband, were bound, under penalty of mutilation, to accomplish their task within the proscribed time. as soon as the stream had been diverted into its temporary channel, there was hollowed out in the dry river bed a pit, fifty feet long, ten feet wide, and ten feet deep. this, towards the close of the day, was lined throughout with living women, selected from moené loonga's slaves; in ordinary cases it would have been their fate to be buried alive beside their master; but in recognition of his miraculous death it was ordained that they should be drowned beside his remains.[ ] [footnote : the horrible hecatombs that commemorate the death of any powerful chief in central africa defy all description. cameron relates that more than a hundred victims were sacrificed at the obsequies of the father of the king of kassongo.] generally, the royal corpse is arrayed in its richest vestments before being consigned to the tomb, but in this case, when the remains consisted only of a few charred bones, another plan was adopted. an image of the king, perhaps rather flattering to the original, was made of wicker-work; inside this were placed the fragments of bones and skin, and the effigy itself was then arrayed in the robes of state, which, as already mentioned, were not of a very costly description. cousin benedict's spectacles were not forgotten, but were firmly affixed to the countenance of the image. the masquerade had its ludicrous as well as its terrible side. when the evening arrived, a long procession was seen wending its way to the place of interment; the uproar was perfectly deafening; shouts, yells, the boisterous incantations of the musicians, the clang of musical instruments, and the reports of many old muskets, mingled in wild confusion. the ceremony was to take place by torch-light, and the whole population of kazonndé, native and otherwise, was bound to be present. alvez, coïmbra, negoro, the arab dealers and their havildars all helped to swell the numbers, the queen having given express orders that no one who had been at the lakoni should leave the town, and it was not deemed prudent to disobey her commands. the remains of the king were carried in a palanquin in the rear of the cortége, surrounded by the wives of the second class, some of whom were doomed to follow their master beyond the tomb. queen moena, in state array, marched behind the catafalque. night was well advanced when the entire procession reached the banks of the brook, but the resin-torches, waved on high by their bearers, shed a ruddy glare upon the teeming crowd. the grave, with its lining of living women, bound to its side by chains, was plainly visible; fifty slaves, some resigned and mute, others uttering loud and piteous cries, were there awaiting the moment when the rushing torrent should be opened upon them. the wives who were destined to perish had been selected by the queen herself and were all in holiday-attire. one of the victims, who bore the title of second wife, was forced down upon her hands and knees in the grave, in order to form a resting-place for the effigy, as she had been accustomed to do for the living sovereign; the third wife had to sustain the image in an upright position, and the fourth lay down at its feet to make a footstool. in front of the effigy, at the end of the grave, a huge stake, painted red, was planted firmly in the earth. bound to this stake, his body half naked, exhibiting marks of the tortures which by negoro's orders he had already undergone, friendless and hopeless, was dick sands! [illustration: friendless and hopeless.] the time, however, for opening the flood-gate had not yet arrived. first of all, at a sign from the queen, the fourth wife, forming the royal footstool had her throat cut by an executioner, her blood streaming into the grave. this barbarous deed was the commencement of a most frightful butchery. one after another, fifty slaves fell beneath the slaughterous knife, until the river-bed was a very cataract of blood. for half an hour the shrieks of the victims mingled with the imprecations of their murderers, without evoking one single expression of horror or sympathy from the gazing crowd around. at a second signal from the queen, the barrier, which retained the water above, was opened. by a refinement of cruelty the torrent was not admitted suddenly to the grave, but allowed to trickle gradually in. the first to be drowned were the slaves that carpeted the bottom of the trench, their frightful struggles bearing witness to the slow death that was overpowering them. dick was immersed to his knees, but he could be seen making what might seem one last frantic effort to burst his bonds. steadily rose the water; the stream resumed its proper course; the last head disappeared beneath its surface, and soon there remained nothing to indicate that in the depth below there was a tomb where a hundred victims had been sacrificed to the memory of the king of kazonndé. painful as they are to describe, it is impossible to ignore the reality of such scenes. chapter xiii. in captivity. so far from mrs. weldon and jack having succumbed to the hardships to which they had been exposed, they were both alive, and together with cousin benedict were now in kazonndé. after the assault upon the ant-hill they had all three been conveyed beyond the encampment to a spot where a rude palanquin was in readiness for mrs. weldon and her son. the journey hence to kazonndé was consequently accomplished without much difficulty; cousin benedict, who performed it on foot, was allowed to entomologize as much as he pleased upon the road, so that to him the distance was a matter of no concern. the party reached their destination a week sooner than ibn hamish's caravan, and the prisoners were lodged in alvez' quarters. jack was much better. after leaving the marshy districts he had no return of fever, and as a certain amount of indulgence had been allowed them on their journey, both he and his mother, as far as their health was concerned, might be said to be in a satisfactory condition. of the rest of her former companions mrs. weldon could hear nothing. she had herself been a witness of the escape of hercules, but of course knew nothing further of his fate; as for dick sands, she entertained a sanguine hope that his white skin would protect him from any severe treatment; but for nan and the other poor negroes, here upon african soil, she feared the very worst. being entirely shut off from communication with the outer world, she was quite unaware of the arrival of the caravan; even if she had heard the noisy commotion of the market she would not have known what it meant, and she was in ignorance alike of the death of harris, of the sale of tom and his companions, of the dreadful end of the king, and of the royal obsequies in which poor dick had been assigned so melancholy a share. during the journey from the coanza to kazonndé, harris and negoro had held no conversation with her, and since her arrival she had not been allowed to pass the inclosure of the establishment, so that, as far as she knew, she was quite alone, and being in negoro's power, was in a position from which it seemed only too likely nothing but death could release her. from cousin benedict, it is needless to repeat, she could expect no assistance; his own personal pursuits engrossed him, and he had no care nor leisure to bestow upon external circumstances. his first feeling, on being made to understand that he was not in america, was one of deep disappointment that the wonderful things he had seen were no discoveries at all; they were simply african insects common on african soil. this vexation, however, soon passed away, and he began to believe that "the land of the pharaohs" might possess as much entomological wealth as "the land of the incas." "ah," he would exclaim to mrs. weldon, heedless that she gave him little or no attention, "this is the country of the manticoræ, and wonderful coleoptera they are, with their long hairy legs, their sharp elytra and their big mandibles; the most remarkable of them all is the tuberous manticora. and isn't this, too, the land of the golden-tipped calosomi? and of the prickly-legged goliaths of guinea and gabon? here, too, we ought to find the spotted anthidia, which lay their eggs in empty snail-shells; and the sacred atenchus, which the old egyptians used to venerate as divine." "yes, yes;" he would say at another time, "this is the proper habitat of those death's-head sphinxes which are now so common everywhere; and this is the place for those 'idias bigoti,' so formidable to the natives of senegal. there must be wonderful discoveries to be made here if only those good people will let me." the "good people" referred to were negoro and harris, who had restored him much of the liberty of which dick sands had found it necessary to deprive him. with freedom to roam and in possession of his tin box, benedict would have been amongst the most contented of men, had it not been for the loss of his spectacles and magnifying-glass, now buried with the king of kazonndé. reduced to the necessity of poking every insect almost into his eyes before he could discover its characteristics, he would have sacrificed much to recover or replace his glasses, but as such articles were not to be procured at any price, he contented himself with the permission to go where he pleased within the limits of the palisade. his keepers knew him well enough to be satisfied that he would make no attempt to escape, and as the enclosure was nearly a mile in circumference, containing many shrubs and trees and huts with thatched roofs, besides being intersected by a running stream, it afforded him a very fair scope for his researches, and who should say that he would not discover some novel specimen to which, in the records of entomological science, his own name might be assigned? if thus the domain of antonio alvez was sufficient to satisfy benedict, to little jack it might well seem immense. but though allowed to ramble over the whole place as he liked, the child rarely cared to leave his mother; he would be continually inquiring about his father, whom he had now so long been expecting to see: he would ask why nan and hercules and dingo had gone away and left him; and perpetually he would be expressing his wonder where dick could be, and wishing he would come back again. mrs. weldon could only hide her tears and answer him by caresses. nothing, however, transpired to give the least intimation that any of the prisoners were to be treated otherwise than they had been upon the journey from the coanza. excepting such as were retained for old alvez' personal service, all the slaves had been sold, and the storehouses were now full of stuffs and ivory, the stuffs destined to be sent into the central provinces and the ivory to be exported. the establishment was thus no longer crowded as it had been, and mrs. weldon and jack were lodged in a different hut to cousin benedict. all three, however, took their meals together and were allowed a sufficient diet of mutton or goats'-flesh, vegetables, manioc, sorghum and native fruits. with the traders' servants they held no communication, but halima, a young slave who had been told off to attend to mrs. weldon, evinced for her new mistress an attachment which, though rough, was evidently sincere. [illustration: he contented himself with the permission to go where he pleased within the limits of the palisade.] old alvez, who occupied the principal house in thedépôt, was rarely seen; whilst the non-appearance of either harris or negoro caused mrs. weldon much surprise and perplexity. in the midst of all her troubles, too, she was haunted by the thought of the anxiety her husband must be suffering on her account. unaware of her having embarked on board the "pilgrim," at first he would have wondered at steamer after steamer arriving at san francisco without her. after a while the "pilgrim" would have been registered amongst the number of missing ships; and it was certain the intelligence would be forwarded to him by his correspondents, that the vessel had sailed from auckland with his wife and child on board. what was he to imagine? he might refuse to believe that they had perished at sea, but he would never dream of their having been carried to africa, and would certainly institute a search in no other direction than on the coast of america, or amongst the isles of the pacific. she had not the faintest hope of her whereabouts being discovered, and involuntarily her thoughts turned to the possibility of making an escape. she might well feel her heart sink within her at the bare idea; even if she should succeed in eluding the vigilance of the watch, there were two hundred miles of dense forest to be traversed before the coast could be reached; nevertheless, it revealed itself to her as her last chance, and failing all else, she resolved to hazard it. but, first of all, she determined, if it were possible, to discover the ultimate design of negoro. she was not kept long in suspense. on the th of june, just a week after the royal funeral, the portuguese entered the depót, in which he had not set foot since his return, and made his way straight to the hut in which he knew he should find the prisoner. benedict was out insect-hunting; jack, under halima's charge, was being taken for a walk. mrs. weldon was alone. negoro pushed open the door, and said abruptly,-- "mrs. weldon, i have come to tell you, that tom and his lot have been sold for the ujiji market; nan died on her way here; and dick sands is dead too." mrs. weldon uttered a cry of horror. "yes, mrs. weldon," he continued; "he has got what he deserved; he shot harris, and has been executed for the murder. and here you are alone! mark this! alone and in my power!" what negoro said was true; tom, bat, actæon, and austin had all been sent off that morning on their way to ujiji. mrs. weldon groaned bitterly. negoro went on. "if i chose, i could still further avenge upon you the ill-treatment i got on board that ship; but it does not suit my purpose to kill you. you and that boy of yours, and that idiot of a fly-catcher, all have a certain value in the market. i mean to sell you." "you dare not!" said mrs. weldon firmly; "you know you are making an idle threat; who do you suppose would purchase people of white blood?" "i know a customer who will give me the price i mean to ask," replied negoro with a brutal grin. she bent down her head; only too well she knew that such things were possible in this horrid land. "tell me who he is!" she said; "tell the name of the man who ..." "james weldon," he answered slowly. "my husband!" she cried; "what do you mean?" "i mean what i say. i mean to make your husband buy you back at my price; and if he likes to pay for them, he shall have his son and his cousin too." [illustration: "i suppose weldon will not mind coming to fetch you?"] "and when, and how, may i ask, do you propose to manage this?" replied mrs. weldon, forcing herself to be calm. "here, and soon too. i suppose weldon will not mind coming to fetch you." "he would not hesitate to come; but how could he know we are here?" "i will go to him. i have money that will take me to san francisco." "what you stole from the 'pilgrim'?" said mrs. weldon. "just so," replied negoro; "and i have plenty more i suppose when weldon hears that you are a prisoner in central africa, he will not think much of a hundred thousand dollars." "but how is he to know the truth of your statement?" "i shall take him a letter from you. you shall represent me as your faithful servant, just escaped from the hands of savages." "a letter such as that i will never write; never," said mrs. weldon decisively. "what? what? you refuse?" "i refuse." she had all the natural cravings of a woman and a wife, but so thoroughly was she aware of the treachery of the man she had to deal with, that she dreaded lest, as soon as he had touched the ransom, he would dispose of her husband altogether. there was a short silence. "you will write that letter," said negoro. "never!" repeated mrs. weldon. "remember your child!" mrs. weldon's heart beat violently, but she did not answer a word. "i will give you a week to think over this," hissed out negoro. mrs. weldon was still silent. "a week! i will come again in a week; you will do as i wish, or it will be the worse for you." he gnashed his teeth, turned on his heel, and left the hut. chapter xiv. a ray of hope. mrs. weldon's first feeling on being left alone was a sense of relief at having a week's respite. she had no trust in negoro's honesty, but she knew well enough that their "marketable value" would secure them from any personal danger, and she had time to consider whether some compromise might be effected by which her husband might be spared the necessity of coming to kazonndé. upon the receipt of a letter from herself, he would not hesitate for a moment in undertaking the journey, but she entertained no little fear that after all perhaps her own departure might not be permitted; the slightest caprice on the part of queen moena would detain her as a captive, whilst as to negoro, if once he should get the ransom he wanted, he would take no further pains in the matter. accordingly, she resolved to make the proposition that she should be conveyed to some point upon the coast, where the bargain could be concluded without mr. weldon's coming up the country. she had to weigh all the consequences that would follow any refusal on her part to fall in with negoro's demands. of course, he would spend the interval in preparing for his start to america, and when he should come back and find her still hesitating, was it not likely that he would find scope for his revenge in suggesting that she must be separated from her child. the very thought sent a pang through her heart, and she clasped her little boy tenderly to her side. "what makes you so sad, mamma?" asked jack. "i was thinking of your father, my child," she answered; "would you not like to see him?" "yes, yes; is he coming here?" "no, my boy, he must not come here." "then let us take dick, and tom, and hercules, and go to him." mrs. weldon tried to conceal her tears. "have you heard from papa?" "no." "then why do you not write to him?" "write to him?" repeated his mother, "that is the very thing i was thinking about." the child little knew the agitation that was troubling her mind. meanwhile mrs. weldon had another inducement which she hardly ventured to own to herself for postponing her final decision. was it absolutely impossible that her liberation should be effected by some different means altogether? a few days previously she had overheard a conversation outside her hut, and over this she had found herself continually pondering. alvez and one of the ujiji dealers, discussing the future prospects of their business, mutually agreed in denouncing the efforts that were being made for the suppression of the slave-traffic, not only by the cruisers on the coast, but by the intrusion of travellers and missionaries into the interior. alvez averred that all these troublesome visitors ought to be exterminated forthwith. "but kill one, and another crops up," replied the dealer. "yes, their exaggerated reports bring up a swarm of them," said alvez. it seemed a subject of bitter complaint that the markets of nyangwé, zanzibar, and the lake-district had been invaded by speke and grant and others, and although they congratulated each other that the western provinces had not yet been much persecuted, they confessed that now that the travelling epidemic had begun to rage, there was no telling how soon a lot of european and american busy-bodies might be among them. thedépôts at cassange and bihe had both been visited, and although kazonndé had hitherto been left quiet, there were rumours enough that the continent was to be tramped over from east to west.[ ] [footnote: this extraordinary feat was, it is universally known, subsequently accomplished by cameron.] "and it may be," continued alvez, "that that missionary fellow, livingstone, is already on his way to us; if he comes there can be but one result; there must be freedom for all the slaves in kazonndé." "freedom for the slaves in kazonndé!" these were the words which in connexion with dr. livingstone's name had arrested mrs. weldon's attention, and who can wonder that she pondered them over and over again, and ventured to associate them with her own prospects? here was a ray of hope! the mere mention of livingstone's name in association with this story seems to demand a brief survey of his career. born on the th of march, , david livingstone was the second of six children of a tradesman in the village of blantyre, in lanarkshire. after two years' training in medicine and theology, he was sent out by the london missionary society, and landed at the cape of good hope in , with the intention of joining moffat in south africa. after exploring the country of the bechuanas, he returned to kuruman, and, having married moffat's daughter, proceeded in to found a mission in the mabotsa valley. after four years he removed to kolobeng in the bechuana district, miles north of kuruman, whence, in , starting off with his wife, three children, and two friends, mr. oswell and mr. murray, he discovered lake ngami, and returned by descending the course of the zouga. the opposition of the natives had prevented his proceeding beyond lake ngami at his first visit, and he made a second with no better success. in a third attempt, however, he wended his way northwards with his family and mr. oswell along the chobé, an affluent of the zambesi, and after a difficult journey at length reached the district of the makalolos, of whom the chief, named sebituané, joined him at linyanté. the zambesi itself was discovered at the end of june, , and the doctor returned to the cape for the purpose of sending his family to england. [illustration: dr. livingstone. _page_ .] his next project was to cross the continent obliquely from south to west, but in this expedition he had resolved that he would risk no life but his own. accompanied, therefore, by only a few natives, he started in the following june, and skirting the kalahari desert entered litoubarouba on the last day of the year; here he found the bechuana district much ravaged by the boers, the original dutch colonists, who had formed the population of the cape before it came into the possession of the english. after a fortnight's stay, he proceeded into the heart of the district of the bamangonatos, and travelled continuously until the rd of may, when he arrived at linyanté, and was received with much honour by sekeletoo, who had recently become sovereign of the makalolos. a severe attack of fever detained the traveller here for a period, but he made good use of the enforced rest by studying the manners of the country, and became for the first time sensible of its terrible sufferings in consequence of the slave-trade. descending the course of the chobé to the zambesi, he next entered naniele, and after visiting katonga and libonta, advanced to the point of confluence of the leeba with the zambesi, where he determined upon ascending the former as far as the portuguese possessions in the west; it was an undertaking, however, that required considerable preparation, so that it was necessary for him to return to linyanté. on the th of november he again started. he was accompanied by twenty-seven makalolos, and ascended the leeba till, in the territory of the balonda, he reached a spot where it received the waters of its tributary the makondo. it was the first time a white man had ever penetrated so far. proceeding on their way, they arrived at the residence of shinté, the most powerful of the chieftains of the balonda, by whom they were well received, and having met with equal kindness from kateema, a ruler on the other side of the leeba, they encamped, on the th of february, , on the banks of lake dilolo. here it was that the real difficulty commenced; the arduous travelling, the attacks of the natives, and their exorbitant demands, the conspiracies of his own attendants and their desertions, would soon have caused any one of less energy to abandon his enterprise; but david livingstone was not a man to be daunted; resolutely he persevered, and on the th of april reached the banks of the coango, the stream that forms the frontier of the portuguese possessions, and joins the zaire on the north. six days later he passed through cassangé. here it was that alvez had seen him. on the st of may he arrived at st. paul de loanda, having traversed the continent in about two years. it was not long, however, before he was off again. following the banks of the coanza, the river which was to bring such trying experiences to dick sands and his party, he reached the lombé, and having met numbers of slave-caravans on his way, again passed through cassange, crossed the coango, and reached the zambesi at kewawa. by the th of the following june he was again at lake dilolo, and descending the river, he re-entered linyanté. here he stayed till the rd of november, when he commenced his second great journey, which was to carry him completely across africa from west to east. after visiting the famed victoria falls, the intrepid explorer quitted the zambesi, and took a north-easterly route. the transit of the territory of the batokas, a people brutalized by the inhalation of hemp; a visit to semalemboni the powerful chief of the district; the passage of the kafoni; a visit to king mbourouma; an inspection of the ruins of zumbo, an old portuguese town; a meeting with the chief mpendé, at that time at war with the portuguese, these were the principal events of this journey, and on the nd of april, livingstone left teté, and having descended the river as far as its delta, reached quilimané, just four years after his last departure from the cape. on the th of july he embarked for the mauritius, and on the nd of december, , he landed in england after an absence of sixteen years. [illustration: with none to guide him except a few natives.] loaded with honours by the geographical societies of london and paris, brilliantly entertained by all ranks, it would have been no matter of surprise if he had surrendered himself to a well-earned repose; but no thought of permanent rest occurred to him, and on the st of march, , accompanied by his brother charles, captain bedingfield, dr. kirk, dr. miller, mr. thornton, and mr. baines, he started again, with the intention of exploring the basin of the zambesi, and arrived in due time at the coast of mozambique. the party ascended the great river by the kongone mouth; they were on board a small steamer named the "ma-robert," and reached teté on the th of september. during the following year they investigated the lower course of the zambesi, and its left affluent the shiré, and having visited lake shirwa, they explored the territory of the manganjas, and discovered lake nyassa. in august, , they returned to the victoria falls. early in the following year, bishop mackenzie and his missionary staff arrived at the mouth of the zambesi. in march an exploration of the rovouma was made on board the "pioneer," the exploring party returning afterwards to lake nyassa, where they remained a considerable time. the th of january, , was signalized by the arrival of mrs. livingstone, and by the addition of another steamer, the "lady nyassa;" but the happiness of reunion was very transient; it was but a short time before the enthusiastic bishop mackenzie succumbed to the unhealthiness of the climate, and on the th of april mrs. livingstone expired in her husband's arms. a second investigation of the rovouma soon followed and at the end of november the doctor returned to the zambesi, and reascended the shire. in the spring of he lost his companion mr. thornton, and as his brother and dr. kirk were both much debilitated, he insisted upon their return to europe, while he himself returned for the third time to lake nyassa, and completed the hydrographical survey which already he had begun. a few months later found him once more at the mouth of the zambesi; thence he crossed over to zanzibar, and after five years' absence arrived in london, where he published his work, "the exploration of the zambesi and its affluents." still unwearied and insatiable in his longings, he was back again in zanzibar at the commencement of , ready to begin his fourth journey, this time attended only by a few sepoys and negroes. witnessing on his way some horrible scenes which were perpetrated as the result of the prosecution of the slave-trade, he proceeded to mokalaosé on the shores of lake nyassa, where nearly all his attendants deserted him, and returned to zanzibar with the report that he was dead. dr. livingstone meanwhile was not only alive, but undaunted in his determination to visit the country between the two lakes nyassa and tanganyika. with none to guide him except a few natives, he crossed the loangona, and in the following april discovered lake liemmba. here he lay for a whole month hovering between life and death, but rallying a little he pushed on to the north shore of lake moero. taking up his quarters at cazembé for six weeks, he made two separate explorations of the lake, and then started farther northwards, intending to reach ujiji, an important town upon lake tanganyika; overtaken, however, by floods, and again abandoned by his servants, he was obliged to retrace his steps. six weeks afterwards he had made his way southwards to the great lake bangweolo, whence once more he started towards tanganyika. this last effort was most trying, and the doctor had grown so weak that he was obliged to be carried, but he reached ujiji, where he was gratified by finding some supplies that had been thoughtfully forwarded to him by the oriental society at calcutta. [illustration: "you are dr. livingstone, i presume?"] his great aim now was to ascend the lake, and reach the sources of the nile. on the st of september he was at bambarré, in the country of the cannibal manyuema, upon the lualaba, the river afterwards ascertained by stanley to be the upper zaire or congo. at mamobela the doctor was ill for twenty-four days, tended only by three followers who continued faithful; but in july he made a vigorous effort, and although he was reduced to a skeleton, made his way back to ujiji. during this long time no tidings of livingstone reached europe, and many were the misgivings lest the rumours of his death were only too true. he was himself, too, almost despairing as to receiving any help. but help was closer at hand than he thought. on the rd of november, only eleven days after his return to ujiji, some gun shots were heard within half a mile of the lake. the doctor went out to ascertain whence they proceeded, and had not gone far before a white man stood before him. "you are dr. livingstone, i presume," said the stranger, raising his cap. "yes, sir, i am dr. livingstone, and am happy to see you," answered the doctor, smiling kindly. the two shook each other warmly by the hand. the new arrival was henry stanley, the correspondent of the _new york herald_, who had been sent out by mr. bennett, the editor, in search of the great african explorer. on receiving his orders in october, , without a day's unnecessary delay he had embarked at bombay for zanzibar, and, after a journey involving considerable peril, had arrived safely at ujiji. very soon the two travellers found themselves on the best of terms, and set out together on an excursion to the north of tanganyika. they proceeded as far as cape magala, and decided that the chief outlet of the lake must be an affluent of the lualaba, a conclusion that was subsequently confirmed by cameron. towards the end of the year stanley began to prepare to return. livingstone accompanied him as far as kwihara, and on the rd of the following march they parted. "you have done for me what few men would venture to do; i am truly grateful," said livingstone. stanley could scarcely repress his tears as he expressed his hope that the doctor might be spared to return to his friends safe and well. "good-bye!" said stanley, choked with emotion. "good-bye!" answered the veteran feebly. thus they parted, and in july, , stanley landed at marseilles. again david livingstone resumed his researches in the interior. after remaining five months at kwihara he gathered together a retinue consisting of his faithful followers suzi, chumah, amoda, and jacob wainwright, and fifty-six men sent to him by stanley, and lost no time in proceeding towards the south of tanganyika. in the course of the ensuing month the caravan encountered some frightful storms, but succeeded in reaching moura. there had previously been an extreme drought, which was now followed by the rainy season, which entailed the loss of many of the beasts of burden, in consequence of the bites of the tzetsy. on the th of january they were at chitounkwé, and in april, after rounding the east of lake bangweolo, they made their way towards the village of chitambo. at this point it was that livingstone had parted company with certain slave-dealers, who had carried the information to old alvez that the missionary traveller would very likely proceed by way of loanda to kazonndé. but on the th of june, the very day before negoro reckoned on obtaining from mrs. weldon the letter which should be the means of securing him a hundred thousand dollars, tidings were circulated in the district that on the st of may dr. livingstone had breathed his last. the report proved perfectly true. on the th of april the caravan had reached the village of chitambo, the doctor so unwell that he was carried on a litter. the following night he was in great pain, and after repeatedly murmuring in a low voice, "oh dear, oh dear!" he fell into a kind of stupor. a short time afterwards he called up suzi, and having asked for some medicine, told his attendant that he should not require anything more. "you can go now." about four o'clock next morning, when an anxious visit was made to his room, the doctor was found kneeling by the bed-side, his head in his hands, in the attitude of prayer. suzi touched him, but his forehead was icy with the coldness of death. he had died in the night. his body was carried by those who loved him, and in spite of many obstacles was brought to zanzibar, whence, nine months after his death, it was conveyed to england. on the th of april, , it was interred in westminster abbey, counted worthy to be deposited amongst those whom the country most delights to honour. chapter xv. an exciting chase. to say the truth, it was the very vaguest of hopes to which mrs. weldon had been clinging, yet it was not without some thrill of disappointment that she heard from the lips of old alvez himself that dr. livingstone had died at a little village on lake bangweolo. there had appeared to be a sort of a link binding her to the civilized world, but it was now abruptly snapped, and nothing remained for her but to make what terms she could with the base and heartless negoro. on the th, the day appointed for the interview, he made his appearance at the hut, firmly resolved to make no abatement in the terms that he had proposed, mrs. weldon, on her part, being equally determined not to yield to the demand. "there is only one condition," she avowed, "upon which i will acquiesce. my husband shall not be required to come up the country here." negoro hesitated; at length he said that he would agree to her husband being taken by ship to mossamedes, a small port in the south of angola, much frequented by slavers, whither also, at a date hereafter to be fixed, alvez should send herself with jack and benedict; the stipulation was confirmed that the ransom should be , dollars, and it was further made part of the contract that negoro should be allowed to depart as an honest man. mrs. weldon felt she had gained an important point in thus sparing her husband the necessity of a journey to kazonndé, and had no apprehensions about herself on her way to mossamedes, knowing that it was to the interest of alvez and negoro alike to attend carefully to her wants. upon the terms of the covenant being thus arranged, mrs. weldon wrote such a letter to her husband as she knew would bring him with all speed to mossamedes, but she left it entirely to negoro to represent himself in whatever light he chose. once in possession of the document, negoro lost no time in starting on his errand. the very next morning, taking with him about twenty negroes, he set off towards the north, alleging to alvez as his motive for taking that direction, that he was not only going to embark somewhere at the mouth of the congo, but that he was anxious to keep as far as possible from the prison-houses of the portuguese, with which already he had been involuntarily only too familiar. after his departure, mrs. weldon resolved to make the best of her period of imprisonment, aware that it could hardly be less than four months before he would return. she had no desire to go beyond the precincts assigned her, even had the privilege been allowed her; but warned by negoro that hercules was still free, and might at any time attempt a rescue, alvez had no thought of permitting her any unnecessary liberty. her life therefore soon resumed its previous monotony. the daily routine went on within the enclosure pretty much as in other parts of the town, the women all being employed in various labours for the benefit of their husbands and masters. the rice was pounded with wooden pestles; the maize was peeled and winnowed, previously to extracting the granulous substance for the drink which they call _mtyellé_; the sorghum had to be gathered in, the season of its ripening being marked by festive observances; there was a fragrant oil to be expressed from a kind of olive named the _mpafoo_; the cotton had to be spun on spindles, which were hardly less than a foot and a half in length; there was the bark of trees to be woven into textures for wearing; the manioc had to be dug up, and the cassava procured from its roots; and besides all this, there was the preparation of the soil for its future plantings, the usual productions of the country being the _moritsané_ beans, growing in pods fifteen inches long upon stems twenty feet high, the _arachides_, from which they procure a serviceable oil, the _chilobé_ pea, the blossoms of which are used to give a flavour to the insipid sorghum, cucumbers, of which the seeds are roasted as chestnuts, as well as the common crops of coffee, sugar, onions, guavas, and sesame. to the women's lot, too, falls the manipulation of all the fermented drinks, the _malafoo_, made from bananas, the _pombé_, and various other liquors. nor should the care of all the domestic animals be forgotten; the cows that will not allow themselves to be milked unless they can see their calf, or a stuffed representative of it; the short-horned heifers that not unfrequently have a hump; the goats that, like slaves, form part of the currency of the country; the pigs, the sheep, and the poultry. the men, meanwhile, smoke their hemp or tobacco, hunt buffaloes or elephants, or are hired by the dealers to join in the slave-raids; the harvest of slaves, in fact, being a thing of as regular and periodic recurrence as the ingathering of the maize. in her daily strolls, mrs. weldon would occasionally pause to watch the women, but they only responded to her notice by a long stare or by a hideous grimace; a kind of natural instinct made them hate a white skin, and they had no spark of commiseration for the stranger who had been brought among them; halima, however, was a marked exception, she grew more and more devoted to her mistress, and by degrees, the two became able to exchange many sentences in the native dialect. jack generally accompanied his mother. naturally enough he longed to get outside the enclosure, but still he found considerable amusement in watching the birds that built in a huge baobab that grew within; there were maraboos making their nests with twigs; there were scarlet-throated _souimangas_ with nests like weaver-birds; widow birds that helped themselves liberally to the thatch of the huts; _calaos_ with their tuneful song; grey parrots, with bright red tails, called _roufs_ by the manyuema, who apply the same name to their reigning chiefs; and insect-eating _drongos_, like grey linnets with large red beaks. hundreds of butterflies flitted about, especially in the neighbourhood of the brooks; but these were more to the taste of cousin benedict than of little jack; over and over again the child expressed his regret that he could not see over the walls, and more than ever he seemed to miss his friend dick, who had taught him to climb a mast, and who he was sure would have fine fun with him in the branches of the trees, which were growing sometimes to the height of a hundred feet. [illustration: the insufferable heat had driven all the residents within the depót indoors.] so long as the supply of insects did not fail, benedict would have been contented to stay on without a murmur in his present quarters. true, without his glasses he worked at a disadvantage; but he had had the good fortune to discover a minute bee that forms its cells in the holes of worm-eaten wood, and a "sphex" that practises the craft of the cuckoo, and deposits its eggs in an abode not prepared by itself. mosquitos abounded in swarms, and the worthy naturalist was so covered by their stings as to be hardly recognizable; but when mrs. weldon remonstrated with him for exposing himself so unnecessarily, he merely scratched the irritated places on his skin, and said-- "it is their instinct, you know; it is their instinct." on the th of june an adventure happened to him which was attended with unexpected consequences. it was about eleven o'clock in the morning. the insufferable heat had driven all the residents within the dépôt indoors, and not a native was to be seen in the streets of kazonndé. mrs. weldon was dozing; jack was fast asleep. benedict himself, sorely against his will, for he heard the hum of many an insect in the sunshine, had been driven to the seclusion of his cabin, and was falling into an involuntary siesta. suddenly a buzz was heard, an insect's wing vibrating some fifteen thousand beats a second! "a hexapod!" cried benedict, sitting up. short-sighted though he was, his hearing was acute, and his perception made him thoroughly convinced that he was in proximity to some giant specimen of its kind. without moving from his seat he did his utmost to ascertain what it was; he was determined not to flinch from the sharpest of stings if only he could get the chance of capturing it. presently he made out a large black speck flitting about in the few rays of daylight that were allowed to penetrate the hut. with bated breath he waited in eager expectation. the insect, after long hovering above him, finally settled on his head. a smile of satisfaction played about his lips as he felt it crawling lightly through his hair. equally fearful of missing or injuring it, he restrained his first impulse to grasp it in his hand. "i will wait a minute," he thought; "perhaps it may creep down my nose; by squinting a little perhaps i shall be able to see it." for some moments hope alternated with fear. there sat benedict with what he persuaded himself was some new african hexapod perched upon his head, and agitated by doubts as to the direction in which it would move. instead of travelling in the way he reckoned along his nose, might it not crawl behind his ears or down his neck, or, worse than all, resume its flight in the air? fortune seemed inclined to favour him. after threading the entanglement of the naturalist's hair the insect was felt to be descending his forehead. with a fortitude not unworthy of the spartan who suffered his breast to be gnawed by a fox, nor of the roman hero who plunged his hand into the red-hot coals, benedict endured the tickling of the six small feet, and made not a motion that might frighten the creature into taking wing. after making repeated circuits of his forehead, it passed just between his eyebrows; there was a moment of deep suspense lest it should once more go upwards; but it soon began to move again; neither to the right nor to the left did it turn, but kept straight on over the furrows made by the constant rubbing of the spectacles, right along the arch of the cartilage till it reached the extreme tip of the nose. like a couple of movable lenses, benedict's two eyes steadily turned themselves inwards till they were directed to the proper point. [illustration: before long the old black speck was again flitting just above his head. _page_ .] "good!" he whispered to himself. he was exulting at the discovery that what he had been waiting for so patiently was a rare specimen of the tribe of the cicindelidæ, peculiar to the districts of southern africa. "a tuberous manticora!" he exclaimed. the insect began to move again, and as it crawled down to the entrance of the nostrils the tickling sensation became too much for endurance, and benedict sneezed. he made a sudden clutch, but of course he only caught his own nose. his vexation was very great, but he did not lose his composure; he knew that the manticora rarely flies very high, and that more frequently than not it simply crawls. accordingly he groped about a long time on his hands and knees, and at last he found it basking in a ray of sunshine within a foot of him. his resolution was soon taken. he would not run the risk of crushing it by trying to catch it, but would make his observations on it as it crawled; and so with his nose close to the ground, like a dog upon the scent, he followed it on all fours, admiring it and examining it as it moved. regardless of the heat he not only left the doorway of his hut, but continued creeping along till he reached the enclosing palisade. at the foot of the fence the manticora, according to the habits of its kind, began to seek a subterranean retreat, and coming to the opening of a mole-track entered it at once. benedict quite thought he had now lost sight of his prize altogether, but his surprise was very great when he found that the aperture was at least two feet wide, and that it led into a gallery which would admit his whole body. his momentary feeling of astonishment, however, gave way to his eagerness to follow up the hexapod, and he continued burrowing like a ferret. without knowing it, he actually passed under the palisading, and was now beyond it;--the mole-track, in fact, was a communication that had been made between the interior and exterior of the enclosure. benedict had obtained his freedom, but so far from caring in the least for his liberty he continued totally absorbed in the pursuit upon which he had started. he watched with unflagging vigilance, and it was only when the hexapod expanded its wings as if for flight that he prepared to imprison it in the hollow of his hand. all at once, however, he was taken by surprise; a whizz and a whirr and the prize was gone! disappointed rather than despairing, benedict raised himself up, and looked about him. before long the old black speck was again flitting just above his head. there was every reason to hope that it would ultimately settle once more upon the ground, but on this side of the palisade there was a large forest a little way to the north, and if the manticora were to get into its mass of foliage all hope of keeping it in view would be lost, and there would be an end of the proud expectation of storing it in the tin box, to be preserved among the rest of the entomological wonders. after a while the insect descended to the earth; it did not rest at all, nor crawl as it had done previously, but made its advance by a series of rapid hops. this made the chase for the near-sighted naturalist a matter of great difficulty; he put his face as close to the ground as possible, and kept starting off and stopping and starting off again with his arms extended like a swimming frog, continually making frantic clutches to find as continually that his grasp had been eluded. after running till he was out of breath, and scratching his hands against the brushwood and the foliage till they bled, he had the mortification of feeling the insect dash past his ear with what might be a defiant buzz, and finding that it was out of sight for ever. "ungrateful hexapod!" he cried in dismay, "i intended to honour you with the best place in my collection." [illustration: for that day at least cousin benedict had lost his chance of being the happiest of entomologists. _page ._] he knew not what to do, and could not reconcile himself to the loss; he reproached himself for not having secured the manticora at the first; he gazed at the forest till he persuaded himself he could see the coveted insect in the distance, and, seized with a frantic impulse, exclaimed,-- "i will have you yet!" he did not even yet realize the fact that he had gained his liberty, but heedless of everything except his own burning disappointment, and at the risk of being attacked by natives or beset by wild beasts, he was just on the very point of dashing into the heart of the wood when suddenly a giant form confronted him, as suddenly a giant hand seized him by the nape of his neck, and, lifting him up, carried him off with apparently as little exertion as he could himself have carried off his hexapod! for that day at least cousin benedict had lost his chance of being the happiest of entomologists. chapter xvi. a magician. on finding that cousin benedict did not return to his quarters at the proper hour, mrs. weldon began to feel uneasy. she could not imagine what had become of him; his tin box with its contents were safe in his hut, and even if a chance of escape had been offered him, she knew that nothing would have induced him voluntarily to abandon his treasures. she enlisted the services of halima, and spent the remainder of the day in searching for him, until at last she felt herself driven to the conviction that he must have been confined by the orders of alvez himself; for what reason she could not divine, as benedict had undoubtedly been included in the number of prisoners to be delivered to mr. weldon for the stipulated ransom. but the rage of the trader when he heard of the escape of the captive was an ample proof that he had had no hand in his disappearance. a rigorous search was instituted in every direction, which resulted in the discovery of the mole-track. here beyond a question was the passage through which the fly-catcher had found his way. "idiot! fool! rascal!" muttered alvez, full of rage at the prospect of losing a portion of the redemption-money; "if ever i get hold of him, he shall pay dearly for this freak." the opening was at once blocked up, the woods were scoured all round for a considerable distance, but no trace of benedict was to be found. mrs. weldon was bitterly grieved and much overcome, but she had no alternative except to resign herself as best she could to the loss of her unfortunate relation; there was a tinge of bitterness in her anxiety, for she could not help being irritated at the recklessness with which he had withdrawn himself from the reach of her protection. meanwhile the weather for the time of year underwent a very unusual change. although the rainy season is ordinarily reckoned to terminate about the end of april, the sky had suddenly become overcast in the middle of june, rain had recommenced falling, and the downpour had been so heavy and continuous that all the ground was thoroughly sodden. to mrs. weldon personally this incessant rainfall brought no other inconvenience beyond depriving her of her daily exercise, but to the natives in general it was a very serious calamity. the ripening crops in the low-lying districts were completely flooded, and the inhabitants feared that they would be reduced to the greatest extremities; all agricultural pursuits had come to a standstill, and neither the queen nor her ministers could devise any expedient to avert or mitigate the misfortune. they resolved at last to have recourse to the magicians, not those who are called in request to heal diseases or to procure good luck, but to the _mganga_, sorcerers of a superior order, who are credited with the faculty of invoking or dispelling rain. but it was all to no purpose. it was in vain that the _mganga_ monotoned their incantations, flourished their rattles, jingled their bells, and exhibited their amulets; it was equally without avail that they rolled up their balls of dirt and spat in the faces of all the courtiers: the pitiless rain continued to descend, and the malign influences that were ruling the clouds refused to be propitiated. the prospect seemed to become more and more hopeless, when the report was brought to moena that there was a most wonderful _mganga_ resident in the north of angola. he had never been seen in this part of the country, but fame declared him to be a magician of the very highest order. application, without delay, should be made to him; he surely would be able to stay the rain. early in the morning of the th a great tinkling of bells announced the magician's arrival at kazonndé. the natives poured out to meet him on his way to the _chitoka_, their minds being already predisposed in his favour by a moderation of the downpour, and by sundry indications of a coming change of wind. the ordinary practice of the professors of the magical art is to perambulate the villages in parties of three or four, accompanied by a considerable number of acolytes and assistants. in this case the _mganga_ came entirely alone. he was a pure negro of most imposing stature, more than six feet high, and broad in proportion. all over his chest was a fantastic pattern traced in pipe-clay, the lower portion of his body being covered with a flowing skirt of woven grass, so long that it made a train. round his neck hung a string of birds' skulls, upon his head he wore a leathern helmet ornamented with pearls and plumes, and about his waist was a copper girdle, to which was attached bells that tinkled like the harness of a spanish mule. the only instrument indicating his art was a basket he carried made of a calabash containing shells, amulets, little wooden idols and other fetishes, together with what was more important than all, a large number of those balls of dung, without which no african ceremony of divination could ever be complete. one peculiarity was soon discovered by the crowd; the _mganga_ was dumb, and could utter only one low, guttural sound, which was quite unintelligible; this was a circumstance, however, that seemed only to augment their faith in his powers. with a stately strut that brought all his tinkling paraphernalia into full play, the magician proceeded to make the circuit of the market-place. the natives followed in a troop behind, endeavouring, like monkeys, to imitate his every movement. he turned into the main thoroughfare, and began to make his way direct to the royal residence, whence, as soon as the queen heard of his approach, she advanced to meet him. on seeing her, the _mganga_ bowed to the very dust; then, rearing himself to his full height, he pointed aloft, and by the significance of his animated gestures indicated that, although the fleeting clouds were now going to the west, they would soon return eastwards with a rotatory motion irresistibly strong. [illustration: the entire crowd joined in. _page_ .] all at once, to the surprise of the beholders, he stooped and took the hand of the mighty sovereign of kazonndé. the courtiers hurried forward to check the unprecedented breach of etiquette, but the foremost was driven back with so staggering a blow that the others deemed it prudent to retire. the queen herself appeared not to take the least offence at the familiarity; she bestowed a hideous grimace, which was meant for a smile, upon her illustrious visitor, who, still keeping his hold upon her hand, started off walking at a rapid pace, the crowd following in the rear. he directed his steps towards the residence of alvez, and finding the door closed, applied his strong shoulder to it with such effect, that it fell bodily to the ground, and the passive sovereign stood within the limits of the enclosure. the trader was about to summon his slaves and soldiers to repel the unceremonious invasion of his premises, but on beholding the queen all stepped back with respectful reverence. before alvez had time to ask the sovereign to what cause he was indebted for the honour of her visit, the magician had cleared a wide space around him, and had once again commenced his performances. brandishing his arms wildly he pointed to the clouds as though he were arresting them in their course; he inflated his huge cheeks and blew with all his strength, as if resolved to disperse the heavy masses, and then stretching himself to his full height, he appeared to clutch them in his giant grasp. deeply impressed, the superstitious moena was half beside herself with excitement; she uttered loud cries and involuntarily began herself to imitate every one of the _mganga's_ gestures. the entire crowd joined in, and very soon the low guttural note of the sorcerer was lost, totally drowned in the turmoil of howls, shrieks, and discordant songs. to the chagrin, however, both of the queen and her subjects, there was not the slightest intimation that the clouds above were going to permit a rift by which the rays of the tropical sun could find a passage. on the contrary, the tokens of improvement in the weather, which had been observed in the early morning, had all disappeared, the atmosphere was darker than ever, and heavy storm-drops began to patter down. a reaction was beginning to take place in the enthusiasm of the crowd. after all, then, it would seem that this famous _mganga_ from whom so much had been expected, had no power above the rest. disappointment every moment grew more keen, and soon there was a positive display of irritation. the natives pressed around him with closed fists and threatening gestures. a frown gathered on moena's face, and her lips opened with muttered words clear enough to make the magician understand that his ears were in jeopardy. his position was evidently becoming critical. an unexpected incident suddenly altered the aspect of affairs. the _mganga_ was quite tall enough to see over the heads of the crowd, and all at once pausing in the midst of his incantations, he pointed to a distant corner of the enclosure. all eyes were instantly turned in that direction. mrs. weldon and jack had just come out of their hut, and catching sight of them, the _mganga_ stood with his left hand pointing towards them and his right upstretched towards the heavens. intuitively the multitude comprehended his meaning. here was the explanation of the mystery. it was this white woman with her child that had been the cause of all their misery, it was owing to them that the clouds had poured down this desolating rain. with yells of execration the whole mob made a dash towards the unfortunate lady who, pale with fright and rigid as a statue, stood clasping her boy to her side. the _mganga_, however, anticipated them. having pushed his way through the infuriated throng, he seized the child and held him high in the air, as though about to hurl him to the ground, a peace-offering to the offended gods. [illustration: "here they are, captain! both of them!!"] mrs. weldon gave a piercing shriek, and fell senseless to the earth. lifting her up, and making a sign to the queen that all would now be right, the _mganga_ retreated carrying both mother and child through the crowd, who retreated before him and made an open passage. alvez now felt that it was time to interfere. already one of his prisoners had eluded his vigilance, and was he now to see two more carried off before his eyes? was he to lose the whole of the expected ransom? no, rather would he see kazonndé destroyed by a deluge, than resign his chance of securing so good a prize. darting forwards he attempted to obstruct the magician's progress; but public opinion was against him; at a sign from the queen, he was seized by the guards, and he was aware well enough of what would be the immediate consequence of resistance. he deemed it prudent to desist from his obstruction, but in his heart he bitterly cursed the stupid credulity of the natives for supposing that the blood of the white woman or the child could avail to put an end to the disasters they were suffering. making the natives understand that they were not to follow him, the magician carried off his burden as easily as a lion would carry a couple of kids. the lady was still unconscious, and jack was all but paralyzed with fright. once free of the enclosure the _mganga_ crossed the town, entered the forest, and after a march of three miles, during which he did not slacken his pace for a moment, reached the bank of a river which was flowing towards the north. here in the cavity of a rock, concealed by drooping foliage, a canoe was moored, covered with a kind of thatched roof; on this the magician deposited his burden, and sending the light craft into mid-stream with a vigorous kick, exclaimed in a cheery voice,-- "here they are, captain! both of them! mrs. weldon and master jack, both! we will be off now! i hope those idiots of kazonndé will have plenty more rain yet! off we go!" chapter xvii. drifting down the stream. "off we go!" it was the voice of hercules addressing dick sands, who, frightfully debilitated by recent sufferings, was leaning against cousin benedict for support. dingo was lying at his feet. mrs. weldon gradually recovered her consciousness. looking around her in amazement she caught sight of dick. "dick, is it you?" she muttered feebly. the lad with some difficulty arose, and took her hand in his, while jack overwhelmed him with kisses. "and who would have thought it was you, hercules, that carried us away?" said the child; "i did not know you a bit; you were so dreadfully ugly." "i was a sort of a devil, you know, master jack," hercules answered; "and the devil is not particularly handsome;" and he began rubbing his chest vigorously to get rid of the white pattern with which he had adorned it. mrs. weldon held out her hand to him with a grateful smile. "yes, mrs. weldon, he has saved you, and although he does not own it, he has saved me too," said dick. "saved!" repeated hercules, "you must not talk about safety, for you are not saved yet." and pointing to benedict, he continued,-- "that's where your thanks are due; unless he had come and informed me all about you and where you were, i should have known nothing, and should have been powerless to aid you." it was now five days since he had fallen in with the entomologist as he was chasing the manticora, and unceremoniously had carried him off. as the canoe drifted rapidly along the stream, hercules briefly related his adventures since his escape from the encampment on the coanza. he described how he had followed the kitanda which was conveying mrs. weldon; how in the course of his march he had found dingo badly wounded; how he and the dog together had reached the neighbourhood of kazonndé, and how he had contrived to send a note to dick, intending to inform him of mrs. weldon's destination. then he went on to say that since his unexpected _rencontre_ with cousin benedict he had watched very closely for a chance to get into the guardeddépôt, but until now had entirely failed. a celebrated _mganga_ had been passing on his way through the forest, and he had resolved upon impersonating him as a means of gaining the admittance he wanted. his strength made the undertaking sufficiently easy; and having stripped the magician of his paraphernalia, and bound him securely to a tree, he painted his own body with a pattern like that which he observed on his victim's chest, and having attired himself with the magical garments was quite equipped to impose upon the credulous natives. the result of his stratagem they had all that day witnessed. he had hardly finished his account of himself when mrs. weldon, smiling at his success, turned to dick. "and how, all this time, my dear boy, has it fared with you?" she asked. dick said,-- "i remember very little to tell you. i recollect being fastened to a stake in the river-bed and the water rising and rising till it was above my head. my last thoughts were about yourself and jack. then everything became a blank, and i knew nothing more until i found myself amongst the papyrus on the river-bank, with hercules tending me like a nurse." "you see i am the right sort of _mganga_" interposed hercules; "i am a doctor as well as a conjurer." "but tell me, hercules, how did you save him?" "oh, it was not a difficult matter by any means," answered hercules modestly; "it was dark, you know, so that at the proper moment it was quite possible to wade in amongst the poor wretches at the bottom of the trench, and to wrench the stake from its socket. anybody could have done it. cousin benedict could have done it. dingo, too, might have done it. perhaps, after all, it was dingo that did it." "no, no, hercules, that won't do," cried jack; "besides, look, dingo is shaking his head; he is telling you he didn't do it." "dingo must not tell tales, master jack," said hercules, laughing. but, nevertheless, although the brave fellow's modesty prompted him to conceal it, it was clear that he had accomplished a daring feat, of which few would have ventured to incur the risk. inquiry was next made after tom, bat, actæon, and austin. his countenance fell, and large tears gathered in his eyes as hercules told how he had seen them pass through the forest in a slave-caravan. they were gone; he feared they were gone for ever. mrs. weldon tried to console him with the hope that they might still be spared to meet again some day; but he shook his head mournfully. she then communicated to dick the terms of the compact that had been entered into for her own release, and observed that under the circumstances it might really have been more prudent for her to remain in kazonndé. "then i have made a mistake; i have been an idiot, in bringing you away," said hercules, ever ready to depreciate his own actions. "no," said dick; "you have made no mistake; you could not have done better; those rascals, ten chances to one, will only get mr. weldon into some trap. we must get to mossamedes before negoro arrives; once there, we shall find that the portuguese authorities will lend us their protection, and when old alvez arrives to claim his , dollars--" "he shall receive a good thrashing for his pains," said hercules, finishing dick's sentence, and chuckling heartily at the prospect. it was agreed on all hands that it was most important that negoro's arrival at mossamedes should be forestalled. the plan which dick had so long contemplated of reaching the coast by descending some river seemed now in a fair way of being accomplished, and from the northerly direction in which they were proceeding it was quite probable that they would ultimately reach the zaire, and in that case not actually arrive at s. paul de loanda; but that would be immaterial, as they would be sure of finding help anywhere in the colonies of lower guinea. on finding himself on the river-bank, dick's first thought had been to embark upon one of the floating islands that are continually to be seen upon the surface of the african streams, but it happened that hercules during one of his rambles found a native boat that had run adrift. it was just the discovery that suited their need. it was one of the long, narrow canoes, thirty feet in length by three or four in breadth, that with a large number of paddles can be driven with immense velocity, but by the aid of a single scull can be safely guided down the current of a stream. dick was somewhat afraid that, to elude observation, it would be necessary to proceed only by night, but as the loss of twelve hours out of the twenty-four would double the length of the voyage, he devised the plan of covering the canoe with a roof of long grass, supported by a horizontal pole from stem to stern, and this not only afforded a shelter from the sun, but so effectually concealed the craft, rudder-scull and all, that the very birds mistook it for one of the natural islets, and red-beaked gulls, black _arringhas_ and grey and white kingfishers would frequently alight upon it in search of food. though comparatively free from fatigue, the voyage must necessarily be long, and by no means free from danger, and the daily supply of provisions was not easy to procure. if fishing failed, dick had the one gun which hercules had carried away with him from the ant-hill, and as he was by no means a bad shot, he hoped to find plenty of game, either along the banks or by firing through a loophole in the thatch. the rate of the current, as far as he could tell, was about two miles an hour, enough to carry them about fifty miles a day; it was a speed, however, that made it necessary for them to keep a sharp look-out for any rocks or submerged trunks of trees, as well as to be on their guard against rapids and cataracts. dick's strength and spirits all revived at the delight of having mrs. weldon and jack restored to him, and he assumed his post at the bow of the canoe, directing hercules how to use the scull at the stern. a litter of soft grass was made for mrs. weldon, who spent most of her time lying thoughtfully in the shade. cousin benedict was very taciturn; he had not recovered the loss of the manticora, and frowned ever and again at hercules, as if he had not yet forgiven him for stopping him in the chase. jack, who had been told that he must not be noisy, amused himself by playing with dingo. the first two days passed without any special incident. the stock of provisions was quite enough for that time, so that there was no need to disembark, and dick merely lay to for a few hours in the night to take a little necessary repose. the stream nowhere exceeded feet in breadth. the floating islands moved at the same pace as the canoe, and except from some unforeseen circumstance, there could be no apprehension of a collision. the banks were destitute of human inhabitants, but were richly clothed with wild plants, of which the blossoms were of the most gorgeous colours; the asclepiae, the gladiolus, the clematis, lilies, aloes, umbelliferae, arborescent ferns and fragrant shrubs, combining on either hand to make a border of surpassing beauty. here and there the forest extended to the very shore, and copal-trees, acacias with their stiff foliage, bauhinias clothed with lichen, fig-trees with their masses of pendant roots, and other trees of splendid growth rose to the height of a hundred feet, forming a shade which the rays of the sun utterly failed to penetrate. [illustration: hercules could leave the boat without much fear of detection.] occasionally a wreath of creepers would form an arch from shore to shore, and on the th, to jack's great delight, a group of monkeys was seen crossing one of these natural bridges, holding on most carefully by their tails, lest the aerial pathway should snap beneath their weight. these monkeys, belonging to a smaller kind of chimpanzee, which are known in central africa by the name of _sokos_, were hideous creatures with low foreheads, bright yellow faces, and long, upright ears; they herd in troops of about ten, bark like dogs, and are much dreaded by the natives on account of their alleged propensity to carry off young children; there is no telling what predatory designs they might have formed against master jack if they had spied him out, but dick's artifice effectually screened him from their observation. twenty miles further on the canoe came to a sudden standstill. "what's the matter now, captain?" cried hercules from the stern. "we have drifted on to a grass barrier, and there is no hope for it, we shall have to cut our way through," answered dick. "all right, i dare say we shall manage it," promptly replied hercules, leaving his rudder to come in front. the obstruction was formed by the interlacing of masses of the tough, glossy grass known by the name of _tikatika_, which, when compressed, affords a surface so compact and resisting that travellers have been known by means of it to cross rivers dry-footed. splendid specimens of lotus plants had taken root amongst the vegetation. as it was nearly dark, hercules could leave the boat without much fear of detection, and so effectually did he wield his hatchet that, in two hours after the stoppage, the barrier was hewn asunder, and the light craft resumed the channel. it must be owned that it was with a sense of reluctance that benedict felt the boat was again beginning to move forward; the whole voyage appeared to him to be perfectly uninteresting and unnecessary; not a single insect had he observed since he left kazonndé, and his most ardent wish was that he could return there and regain possession of his invaluable tin box. but an unlooked for gratification was in store for him. hercules, who had been his pupil long enough to have an eye for the kind of creature benedict was ever trying to secure, on coming back from his exertions on the grass-barrier, brought a horrible-looking animal, and submitted it to the sullen entomologist. "is this of any use to you?" the amateur lifted it up carefully, and having almost poked it into his near-sighted eyes, uttered a cry of delight,-- "bravo, hercules! you are making amends for your past mischief; it is splendid! it is unique!" "is it really very curious?" said mrs. weldon. "yes, indeed," answered the enraptured naturalist; "it is really unique; it belongs to neither of the ten orders; it can be classed neither with the coleoptera, neuroptera, nor to the hymenoptera: if it had eight legs i should know how to classify it; i should place it amongst the second section of the arachnida; but it is a hexapod, a genuine hexapod; a spider with six legs; a grand discovery; it must be entered on the catalogue as 'hexapodes benedictus.'" once again mounted on his hobby, the worthy enthusiast continued to discourse with an unwonted vivacity to his indulgent ii* not over attentive audience. meanwhile the canoe was steadily threading its way over the dark waters, the silence of the night broken only by the rattle of the scales of some crocodiles, or by the snorting of hippopotamuses in the neighbourhood. once the travellers were startled by a loud noise, such as might proceed from some ponderous machinery in motion: it was caused by a troop of a hundred or more elephants that, after feasting through the day on the roots of the forest, had come to quench their thirst at the river-side. [illustration: it was caused by a troop of a hundred or more elephants.] but no danger was to be apprehended; lighted by the pale moon that rose over the tall trees, the canoe throughout the night pursued in safety its solitary voyage. chapter xviii. an anxious voyage. thus the canoe drifted on for a week, the forests that for many miles had skirted the river ultimately giving place to extensive jungles that stretched far away to the horizon. destitute, fortunately for the travellers, of human inhabitants, the district abounded in a large variety of animal life; zebras, elands, caamas, sported on the bank, disappearing at night-fall before howling leopards and roaring lions. it was dick's general custom, as he lay to for a while in the afternoon, to go ashore in search of food, and as the manioc, maize, and sorghum that were to be found were of a wild growth and consequently not fit for consumption, he was obliged to run the risk of using his gun. on the th of july he succeeded by a single shot in killing _pokoo_, a kind of antelope about five feet long, with annulated horns, a tawny skin dappled with bright spots, and a white belly. the venison proved excellent, and was roasted over a fire procured by the primitive method, practised, it is said, even by gorillas, of rubbing two sticks together. in spite of these halts, and the time taken for the night's rest, the distance accomplished by the th could not be estimated at less than a hundred miles. the river, augmented by only a few insignificant tributaries, had not materially increased in volume; its direction, however, had slightly changed more to the north-west. it afforded a very fair supply of fish, which were caught by lines made of the long stems of creepers furnished with thorns instead of fish-hooks, a considerable proportion being the delicate _sandjtkas_, which when dried may be transported to any climate; besides these there were the black _usakas_, the wide-headed _monndés_, and occasionally the little _dagalas_, resembling thames whitebait. [illustration: he stood face to face with his foe.] next day, dick met with an adventure that put all his courage and composure to the test. he had noticed the horns of a caama projecting above the brushwood, and went ashore alone with the intention of securing it. he succeeded in getting tolerably close to it and fired, but he was terribly startled when a formidable creature bounded along some thirty paces ahead, and took possession of the prey he had just wounded. it was a majestic lion, at least five feet in height, of the kind called _káramoo_, in distinction to the maneless species known as the _nyassi-lion_. before dick had time to reload, the huge brute had caught sight of him, and without relaxing its hold upon the writhing antelope beneath its claws, glared upon him fiercely. dick's presence of mind did not forsake him; flight he knew was not to be thought of; his only chance he felt intuitively would be by keeping perfectly still; and aware that the beast would be unlikely to give up a struggling prey for another that was motionless, he stood face to face with his foe, not venturing to move an eyelid. in a few minutes the lion's patience seemed to be exhausted; with a grand stateliness, it picked up the caama as easily as a dog would lift a hare, turned round, and lashing the bushes with its tail, disappeared in the jungle. it took dick some little time to recover himself sufficiently to return to the canoe. on arriving, he said nothing of the peril to which he had been exposed, but heartily congratulated himself that they had means of transport without making their way through jungles and forests. as they advanced, they repeatedly came across evidences that the country had not been always, as now it was, utterly devoid of population; more than once, they observed traces which betokened the former existence of villages; either some ruined palisades or the _débris_ of some thatched huts, or some solitary sacred tree within an enclosure would indicate that the death of a chief had, according to custom, made a native tribe migrate to new quarters. if natives were still dwelling in the district, as was just probable, they must have been living underground, only emerging at night like beasts of prey, from which they were only a grade removed. dick sands had every reason to feel convinced that cannibalism had been practised in the neighbourhood, three times, as he was wandering in the forest, he had come upon piles of ashes and half-charred human bones, the remnants, no doubt, of a ghastly meal, and although he mentioned nothing of what he had seen to mrs. weldon, he made up his mind to go ashore as seldom as possible, and as often as he found it absolutely necessary to go, he gave hercules strict directions to push off into mid-stream at the very first intimation of danger. a new cause of anxiety arose on the following evening, and made it necessary for them to take the most guarded measures of precaution. the river-bed had widened out into a kind of lagoon, and on the right side of this, built upon piles in the water, not only was there a collection of about thirty huts, but the fires gleaming under the thatch, made it evident that they were all inhabited. unfortunately the only channel of the stream flowed close under the huts, the river elsewhere being so obstructed with rocks that navigation of any kind was impossible. nothing was more probable than that the natives would have set their nets all across the piles, and if so, the canoe would be sure to be obstructed, and an alarm must inevitably be raised. every caution seemed to be unavailing, because the canoe must follow the stream; however, in the lowest of whispers dick ordered hercules to keep clear as much as he could of the worm-eaten timber. the night was not very dark, which was equally an advantage and a disadvantage, as while it permitted those on board to steer as they wanted, it did not prevent them from being seen. the situation became more and more critical. about a hundred feet ahead, the channel was very contracted; two natives, gesticulating violently, were seen squatting on the pilework; a few moments more and their voices could be heard; it was obvious that they had seen the floating mass; apprehending that it was going to destroy their nets, they yelled aloud and shouted for assistance; instantly five or six negroes scrambled down the piles, and perched themselves upon the cross-beams. on board the canoe the profoundest silence was maintained. dick only signalled his directions to hercules, without uttering a word, while jack performed his part by holding dingo's mouth tightly closed, to stop the low growlings which the faithful watch-dog seemed resolved to make; but fortunately every sound was overpowered by the rushing of the stream and the clamour of the negroes, as they hurriedly drew in their nets. if they should raise them in time, all might be well, but if, on the other hand, the canoe should get entangled, the consequences could hardly fail to be disastrous. the current in its narrow channel was so strong that dick was powerless either to modify his course or to slacken it. half a minute more, and the canoe was right under the woodwork, but the efforts of the natives had already elevated the nets so that the anticipated danger was happily escaped; but it chanced that in making its way through the obstacle, a large piece of the grass-thatch got detached. one of the negroes raised a sudden shout of alarm, and it seemed only too probable that he had caught a sight of the travellers below and was informing his companions. this apprehension, too, was only momentary; the current had changed almost to a rapid, and carried the canoe along with such velocity that the lacustrine village was quickly out of sight. "steer to the left!" cried dick, finding that the riverbed had again become clear. a stiff pull at the tiller made the craft fly in that direction. dick went to the stern, and scanned the moonlit waters. all was perfectly still, no canoe was in pursuit; perhaps the natives had not one to use; but certain it was that when daylight dawned no vestige of an inhabitant was to be seen. nevertheless dick thought it prudent for a while to steer close under the shelter of the left-hand shore. [illustration: instantly five or six negroes scrambled down the piles.] by the end of the next four days the aspect of the country had undergone a remarkable change, the jungle having given place to a desert as dreary as the kalahari itself. the river appeared interminable, and it became a matter of serious consideration how to get a sufficiency of food. fish was scarce, or at least hard to catch, and the arid soil provided no means of sustenance for antelopes, so that nothing was to be gained from the chase. carnivorous animals also had quite disappeared, and the silence of the night was broken, not by the roar of wild beasts, but by the croaking of frogs in a discordant chorus, which cameron has compared to the clanking of hammers and the grating of files in a ship-builder's yard. far away both to the east and west the outlines of hills could be faintly discerned, but the shores on either hand were perfectly flat and devoid of trees. euphorbias, it is true, grew in considerable numbers, but as they were only of the oil-producing species, and not the kind from which cassava or manioc is procured, they were useless in an alimentary point of view. dick was becoming more and more perplexed, when hercules happened to mention that the natives often eat young fern-fronds and the pith of the papyrus, and that before now he had himself been reduced to the necessity of subsisting on nothing better. "we must try them," said dick. both ferns and papyrus abounded on the banks, and a meal was prepared, the sweet soft pith of the papyrus being found very palatable. jack in particular appeared to enjoy it extremely, but it was not in any way a satisfying diet. thanks to cousin benedict, a fresh variety in the matter of food was found on the following day. since the discovery of the "hexapodes benedictus" he had recovered his spirits, and, having fastened his prize safely inside his hat, he wandered about, as often as he had a chance, in his favourite pursuit of insect-hunting. as he was rummaging in the long grass, he put up a bird which flew but a very short distance. benedict recognized it by its peculiar note, and, seeing dick take his gun to aim at it, exclaimed,-- "don't fire, don't fire! that bird will be worth nothing for food among five of us." "it will be dinner enough for jack," said dick, who, finding that the bird did not seem in a hurry to make its escape, delayed his shot for a moment, without intending to be diverted from his purpose of securing it. "you mustn't fire," insisted benedict, "it is an indicator; it will show you where there are lots of honey." aware that a few pounds of honey would really be of more value than a little bird, dick lowered his gun, and in company with the entomologist set off to follow the indicator, which seemed, by alternately flying and stopping, to be inviting them to come on, and they had but a little way to go before they observed several swarms of bees buzzing around some old stems hidden amongst the euphorbias. notwithstanding benedict's remonstrances against depriving the bees of the fruits of their industry, dick instantly set to work, and without remorse suffocated them by burning dry grass underneath. having secured a good amount of honey, he left the comb to the indicator as its share of the booty, and went back with his companion to the canoe. the honey was acceptable, but it did not do much to alleviate the cravings of hunger. next day it happened that they had just stopped for their accustomed rest, when they observed that an enormous swarm of grasshoppers had settled at the mouth of a creek close by. two or three deep they covered the soil, myriads and myriads of them adhering to every shrub. "the natives eat those grasshoppers," said benedict, "and like them too." the remark produced an instant effect; all hands were busied in collecting them, and a large supply was quickly gathered: the canoe might have been filled ten times over. grilled over a slow fire, they were found to be very palatable eating, and, spite of his qualms of conscience, benedict himself made a hearty meal. but although the gnawings of absolute hunger were thus assuaged, all the travellers began to long most anxiously for the voyage to come to an end. the mode of transit indeed might be less exhausting to the bodily powers than a land march would have been, but the excessive heat by day, the damp mists at night, and the incessant attacks of mosquitoes, all combined to render the passage extremely trying. there was no telling how long it would last, and dick was equally uncertain whether it might end in a few days, or be protracted for a month. the direction which the stream was taking was itself a subject of perplexity. a fresh surprise was now in store. as jack, a few mornings afterwards, was standing at the bow peering through an aperture in the grass canopy above him, he suddenly turned round and cried,-- "the sea! the sea!" dick started forwards, and looked eagerly in the same direction. a large expanse of water was visible in the horizon, but after having surveyed it for a moment or two, he said,-- "no, jack, it is not the sea, it is a great river; it is running west, and i suppose this river runs into it. perhaps it is the zaire." "let us hope it is," said mrs. weldon earnestly. most cordially did dick sands re-echo her words, being well aware that at the mouth of that river were portuguese villages, where a refuge might assuredly be found. for several succeeding days the canoe, still concealed by its covering, floated on the silvery surface of this new-found stream. on either side the banks became less arid, and there seemed everything to encourage the few survivors of the "pilgrim" to believe that they would soon see the last of the perils and toils of their journey. they were too sanguine. towards three o'clock on the morning of the th, dick, who was at his usual post at the bow, fancied he heard a dull rumbling towards the west. mrs. weldon, jack, and benedict were all asleep. calling hercules to him, he asked him whether he could not hear a strange noise. the night was perfectly calm, and not a breath of air was stirring. the negro listened attentively, and suddenly, his eyes sparkling with delight, exclaimed,-- "yes, captain, i hear the sea!" dick shook his head and answered,-- "it is not the sea, hercules." "not the sea!" cried the negro, "then what can it be?" "we must wait till daybreak," replied dick, "and meanwhile we shall have to keep a sharp look-out." hercules returned to his place, but only to continue listening with ever-increasing curiosity. the rumbling perceptibly increased till it became a continued roar. with scarcely any intervening twilight night passed into day. just in front, scarcely more than half a mile ahead, a great mist was hanging over the river; it was not an ordinary fog, and when the sun rose, the light of the dawn caused a brilliant rainbow to arch itself from shore to shore. in a voice so loud that it awoke mrs. weldon, dick gave his order to hercules to steer for the bank:-- "quick, quick, hercules! ashore! ashore! there are cataracts close ahead!" and so it was. within little more than a quarter of a mile the bed of the river sank abruptly some hundred feet, and the foaming waters rushed down in a magnificent fall with irresistible velocity. a few minutes more and the canoe must have been swallowed in the deep abyss. chapter xix. an attack. the canoe inclined to the west readily enough; the fall in the river-bed was so sudden that the current remained quite unaffected by the cataract at a distance of three hundred yards. on the bank were woods so dense that sunlight could not penetrate the shade. dick was conscious of a sad misgiving when he looked at the character of the territory through which they must necessarily pass. it did not seem practicable by any means to convey the canoe below the falls. as they neared the shore, dingo became intensely agitated. at first dick suspected that a wild beast or a native might be lurking in the papyrus, but it soon became obvious that the dog was excited by grief rather than by rage. "dingo is crying," said jack; "poor dingo!" and the child laid his arms over the creature's neck. the dog, however, was too impatient to be caressed; bounding away, he sprang into the water, swam across the twenty feet that intervened between the shore, and disappeared in the grass. in a few moments the boat had glided on to a carpet of confervas and other aquatic plants, starting a few kingfishers and some snow-white herons. hercules moored it to the stump of a tree, and the travellers went ashore. there was no pathway through the forest, only the trampled moss showed that the place had been recently visited either by animals or men. [illustration: upon the smooth wood were two great letters in dingy red.] dick took his gun and hercules his hatchet, and they set out to search for dingo. they had not far to go before they saw him with his nose close to the ground, manifestly following a scent; the animal raised his head for a moment, as if beckoning them to follow, and kept on till he reached an old sycamore-stump. having called out to the rest of the party to join them, dick made his way farther into the wood till he got up to dingo, who was whining piteously at the entrance of a dilapidated hut. the rest were not long in following, and they all entered the hut together. the floor was strewn with bones whitened by exposure. "some one has died here," said mrs. weldon. "perhaps," added dick, as if struck by a sudden thought, "it was dingo's old master. look at him! he is pointing with his paw." the portion of the sycamore-trunk which formed the farther side of the hut had been stripped of its bark, and upon the smooth wood were two great letters in dingy red almost effaced by time, but yet plain enough to be distinguished. "s. v.," cried dick, as he looked where the dog's paw rested; "the same initials that dingo has upon his collar. there can be no mistake. s. v." a small copper box, green with verdigris, caught his eye, and he picked it up. it was open, but contained a scrap of discoloured paper. the writing upon this consisted of a few sentences, of which only detached words could be made out, but they revealed the sad truth only too plainly. "robbed by negoro--murdered--dingo--help--negoro guide-- miles from coast--december rd, --write no more. "s. vernon." here was the clue to a melancholy story. samuel vernon, under the guidance of negoro, and taking with him his dog dingo, had set out on an exploration of a district of central africa; he had taken a considerable quantity of money to procure the necessary supplies on the way, and this had excited the cupidity of his guide, who seized the opportunity, whilst they were encamping on the banks of the congo, to assassinate his employer, and get possession of his property. negoro, however, had not escaped; he had fallen into the hands of the portuguese, by whom he was recognized as an agent of the slave-dealer alvez, and condemned to spend the rest of his days in prison. he contrived after a while to make his escape, and, as has been already mentioned, found his way to new zealand, whence he had returned by securing an engagement on board the "pilgrim." between the time when he was attacked by negoro and the moment of his death, vernon had managed to write the few brief lines of which the fragments still survived, and to deposit the document in the box from which the money had been stolen, and by a last effort had traced out his initials in blood upon the naked wood which formed the wall of the hut. for many days dingo watched beside his master, and throughout that time his eyes were resting so perpetually upon the two crimson letters in front of him, that mere instinct seemed to fasten them indelibly on his memory. quitting his watch one day, perhaps to pacify his hunger, the dog wandered to the coast, where he was picked up by the captain of the "waldeck," afterwards to be transferred to the very ship on which his owner's murderer had been engaged as cook. all throughout this time poor vernon's bones had been bleaching in the african forest, and the first resolution of dick and mrs. weldon was to give the residue of his remains some semblance of a decent burial. they were just proceeding to their task when dingo gave a furious growl, and dashed out of the hut; another moment, and a terrible shriek made it evident that he was in conflict with some dread antagonist. hercules was quickly in pursuit, and the whole party followed in time to witness the giant hurl himself upon a man with whom already dingo was in mortal combat. [illustration: the dog was griping the man by the throat] the dog was griping the man by the throat, the man was lifting his cutlass high above the head of the dog. that man was negoro. the rascal, on getting his letter at kazonndé, instead of embarking at once for america, had left his native escort for a while, and returned to the scene of his crime to secure the treasure which he had left buried at a little distance in a spot that he had marked. at this very moment he was in the act of digging up the gold he had concealed; some glistening coins scattered here and there betrayed his purpose; but in the midst of his labours he had been startled by the dashing forward of a dog; another instant, and the dog had fixed itself upon his throat, whilst he, in an agony of desperation, had drawn his cutlass and plunged it deep into the creature's side. hercules came up at the very climax of the death-struggle. "you villain! you accursed villain! i have you now!" he cried, about to seize hold of his victim. but vengeance was already accomplished. negoro gave no sign of life; death had overtaken him on the very scene of his guilt. dingo, too, had received a mortal wound; he dragged himself back to the hut, lay down beside the remains of his master, and expired. the sad task of burying vernon's bones, and laying his faithful dog beside them having been accomplished, the whole party was obliged to turn their thoughts to their own safety. although negoro was dead, it as very likely that the natives that he had taken with him were at no great distance, and would come to search for him. a hurried conference was held as to what steps had best be taken. the few words traceable on the paper made them aware that they were on the banks of the congo, and that they were still miles from the coast. the fall just ahead was probably the cataract of memo, but whatever it was, no doubt it effectually barred their farther progress by water. there seemed no alternative but that they should make their way by one bank or the other a mile or two below the waterfall, and there construct a raft on which once again they could drift down the stream. the question that pressed for immediate settlement was which bank it should be. here, on the left bank, would be the greater risk of encountering the negro escort of negoro, while as to the farther shore they could not tell what obstacles it might present. altogether mrs. weldon advocated trying the other side, but dick insisted upon crossing first by himself to ascertain whether an advance by that route were really practicable. "the river is only about yards wide," he urged; "i can soon get across. i shall leave hercules to look after you all." mrs. weldon demurred for a while, but dick seemed resolute, and as he promised to take his gun and not to attempt to land if he saw the least symptom of danger, she at last consented, but with so much reluctance that even after he had entered the canoe she said,-- "i think, dick, it would be really better for us all to go together." "no, mrs. weldon, indeed, no; i am sure it is best for me to go alone; i shall be back in an hour." "if it must be so, it must," said the lady. "keep a sharp look-out, hercules!" cried the youth cheerily, as he pushed off from the land. the strength of the current was by no means violent, but quite enough to make the direction of dick's course somewhat oblique. the roar of the cataract reverberated in his ears, and the spray, wafted by the westerly wind, brushed lightly past his face, and he shuddered as he felt how near they must have been to destruction if he had relaxed his watch throughout the night. it took him hardly a quarter of an hour to reach the opposite bank, and he was just preparing to land when there arose a tremendous shout from about a dozen natives, who, rushing forward, began to tear away the canopy of grass with which the canoe was covered. dick's horror was great. it would have been greater still if he had known that they were cannibals. they were the natives settled at the lacustrine village higher up the river. when the piece of thatch had been knocked off in passing the piles a glimpse had been caught of the passengers below, and aware that the cataract ahead must ultimately bring them to a standstill, the eager barbarians had followed them persistently day by day for the last eight days. now they thought they had secured their prize, but loud was their yell of disappointment when on stripping off the thatch they found only one person, and that a mere boy, standing beneath it. dick stood as calmly as he could at the bow, and pointed his gun towards the savages, who were sufficiently acquainted with the nature of fire-arms to make them afraid to attack him. mrs. weldon with the others, in their eagerness to watch dick's movements, had remained standing upon the shore of the river, and at this instant were caught sight of by one of the natives, who pointed them out to his companions. a sudden impulse seized the whole of them, and they sprang into the canoe; there seemed to be a practised hand amongst them, which caught hold of the rudder-oar, and the little craft was quickly on its way back. although he gave up all as now well-nigh lost, dick neither moved nor spoke. he had one lingering hope yet left. was it not possible even now that by sacrificing his own life he could save the lives of those that were entrusted to him? when the canoe had come near enough to the shore for his voice to be heard, he shouted with all his might,-- "fly, mrs. weldon; fly, all of you; fly for your lives!" but neither mrs. weldon nor hercules stirred; they seemed rooted to the ground. "fly, fly, fly!" he continued shouting. but though he knew they must hear him, yet he saw them make no effort to escape. he understood their meaning; of what avail was flight when the savages would be upon their track in a few minutes after? a sudden thought crossed his mind. he raised his gun and fired at the man who was steering; the bullet shattered the rudder-scull into fragments. the cannibals uttered a yell of terror. deprived of guidance, the canoe was at the mercy of the current, and, borne along with increasing speed, was soon within a hundred feet of the cataract. the anxious watchers on the bank instantly discerned dick's purpose, and understood that in order to save them he had formed the resolution of precipitating himself with the savages into the seething waters. nothing could avail to arrest the swift descent. mrs weldon in an agony of despair waved her hands in a last sad farewell, jack and benedict seemed paralyzed, whilst hercules involuntarily extended his great strong arm that was powerless to aid. suddenly the natives, impelled by a last frantic effort to reach the shore, plunged into the water, but then movement capsized the boat. face to face with death, dick lost nothing of his indomitable presence of mind. might not that light canoe, floating bottom upwards, be made the means for yet another grasp at life? the danger that threatened him was twofold, there was the risk of suffocation as well as the peril of being drowned; could not the inverted canoe be used for a kind of float at once to keep his head above water and to serve as a screen from the rushing air? he had some faint recollection of how it had been proved possible under some such conditions to descend in safety the falls of niagara. quick as lightning he seized hold of the cross-bench of the canoe, and with his head out of water beneath the upturned keel, he was dashed down the furious and well-nigh perpendicular fall. the craft sank deep into the abyss, but rose quickly again to the surface. here was dick's chance, he was a good swimmer, and his life depended now upon his strength of arm. it was a hard struggle, but he succeeded. in a quarter of an hour he had landed on the left hand bank, where he was greeted with the joyful congratulations of his friends, who had hurried to the foot of the fall to assure themselves of his fate. [illustration: the bullet shattered the rudder scull into fragments] the cannibals had all disappeared in the surging waters. unprotected in their fall, they had doubtless ceased to breathe before reaching the lowest depths of the cataract where their lifeless bodies would soon be dashed to pieces against the sharp rocks that were scattered along the lower course of the stream. chapter xx. a happy reunion. two days after dick's marvellous deliverance the party had the good fortune to fall in with a caravan of honest portuguese ivory-traders on their way to emboma, at the mouth of the congo. they rendered the fugitives every assistance, and thus enabled them to reach the coast without further discomfort. this meeting with the caravan was a most fortunate occurrence, as any project of launching a raft upon the zaire would have been quite impracticable, the river between the ntemo and yellala falls being a continuous series of cataracts. stanley counted as many as sixty-two, and it was hereabouts that that brave traveller sustained the last of thirty-one conflicts with the natives, escaping almost by a miracle from the mbelo cataract. before the middle of august the party arrived at emboma, where they were hospitably received by m. motta viega and mr. harrison. a steamer was just on the point of starting for the isthmus of panama; in this they took their passage, and in due time set foot once more upon american soil. forthwith a message was despatched to mr. weldon, apprising him of the return of the wife and child over whose loss he had mourned so long on the th the railroad deposited the travellers at san francisco, the only thing to mar their happiness being the recollection that tom and his partners were not with them to share their joy. mr. weldon had every reason to congratulate himself that negoro had failed to reach him. no doubt he would have been ready to sacrifice the bulk of his fortune, and without a moment's hesitation would have set out for the coast of africa, but who could question that he would there have been exposed to the vilest treachery? he felt that to dick sands and to hercules he owed a debt of gratitude that it would be impossible to repay; dick assumed more than ever the place of an adopted son, whilst the brave negro was regarded as a true and faithful friend. cousin benedict, it must be owned, failed to share for long the general joy. after giving mr. weldon a hasty shake of the hand, he hurried off to his private room, and resumed his studies almost as if they had never been interrupted. he set himself vigorously to work with the design of producing an elaborate treatise upon the "hexapodes benedictus" hitherto unknown to entomological research. here in his private chamber spectacles and magnifying-glass were ready for his use, and he was now able for the first time with the aid of proper appliances to examine the unique production of central africa. a shriek of horror and disappointment escaped his lips. the hexapodes benedictus was not a hexapod at all. it was a common spider. hercules, in catching it, had unfortunately broken off its two front legs, and benedict, almost blind as he was, had failed to detect the accident. his chagrin was most pitiable, the wonderful discovery that was to have exalted his name high in the annals of science belonged simply to the common order of the arachnidæ the blow to his aspirations was very heavy; it brought on a fit of illness from which it took him some time to recover. for the next three years dick was entrusted with the education of little jack during the intervals he could spare from the prosecution of his own studies, into which he threw himself with an energy quickened by a kind of remorse. "if only i had known what a seaman ought to know when i was left to myself on board the 'pilgrim,'" he would continually say, "what misery and suffering we might have been spared!" so diligently did he apply himself to the technical branches of his profession that at the age of eighteen he received a special certificate of honour, and was at once raised to the rank of a captain in mr. weldon's firm. thus by his industry and good conduct did the poor foundling of sandy hook rise to a post of distinction. in spite of his youth, he commanded universal respect; his native modesty and straightforwardness never failed him, and for his own part, he seemed to be unconscious of those fine traits in his character which had impelled him to deeds that made him little short of a hero. his leisure moments, however, were often troubled by one source of sadness; he could never forget the four negroes for whose misfortunes he held himself by his own inexperience to be in a way responsible. mrs. weldon thoroughly shared his regret, and would have made many sacrifices to discover what had become of them. this anxiety was at length relieved. owing to the large correspondence of mr. weldon in almost every quarter of the world, it was discovered that the whole of them had been sold in one lot, and that they were now in madagascar. without listening for a moment to dick's proposal to apply all his savings to effect their liberation, mr. weldon set his own agents to negotiate for their freedom, and on the th of november, , tom, bat, actæon, and austin awaited their welcome at the merchant's door. it is needless to say how warm were the greetings they received. out of all the survivors of the "pilgrim" that had been cast upon the fatal coast of africa, old nan alone was wanting to complete the number. considering what they had all undergone, and the perils to which they had been exposed, it seemed little short of a miracle that she and poor dingo should be the only victims. high was the festivity that night in the house of the californian merchant, and the toast, proposed at mrs. weldon's request, that was received with the loudest acclamation was "dick sands, the boy captain!" the end. dick sand; or, a captain at fifteen by jules verne [redactor's note: _dick sand; or, a captain at fifteen_, number v in the t&m listing of the works of jules verne, is a translation of _un capitaine de quinze ans ( )_. this translation was first published by george munro (n.y.) in and reprinted many times in the u.s. this is a different translation from that of ellen e. frewer who translated the book for sampson and low in london entitled _dick sands, the boy captain_. american translations were often free of the religious and colonial bias inserted by the english translators of verne's works.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ dick sand; or, a captain at fifteen. by jules verne, _author of "eight hundred leagues on the amazon," "twenty thousand leagues under the sea," "the mysterious island," "tour of the world in eighty days," "michael strogoff," etc., etc._ a. l. burt company, publishers - duane street, new york. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ contents. _part i._ chapter i. the brig-schooner "pilgrim." chapter ii. dick sand. chapter iii. the wreck. chapter iv. the survivors of the "waldeck." chapter v. "s. v." chapter vi. a whale in sight. chapter vii. preparations. chapter viii. the jubarte. chapter ix. captain sand. chapter x. the four days which follow. chapter xi. tempest. chapter xii. on the horizon. chapter xiii. land! land. chapter xiv. the best to do. chapter xv. harris. chapter xvi. on the way. chapter xvii. a hundred miles in ten days. chapter xviii. the terrible word. _part ii._ chapter i. the slave trade. chapter ii. harris and negoro. chapter iii. on the march. chapter iv. the bad roads of angola. chapter v. ants and their dwelling. chapter vi. the diving-bell. chapter vii. in camp on the banks of the coanza. chapter viii. some of dick sand's notes. chapter ix. kazounde. chapter x. the great market-day. chapter xi. the king of kazounde is offered a punch. chapter xii. a royal burial. chapter xiii. the interior of a factory. chapter xiv. some news of dr. livingston. chapter xv. where a manticore may lead. chapter xvi. a magician. chapter xvii. drifting. chapter xviii. various incidents. chapter xix. "s. v." chapter xx. conclusion. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ dick sand _part i._ chapter i. the brig-schooner "pilgrim." on february , , the schooner "pilgrim" was in latitude ° ' south, and in longitude ° ' west of the meridian of greenwich. this vessel, of four hundred tons, fitted out at san francisco for whale-fishing in the southern seas, belonged to james w. weldon, a rich californian ship-owner, who had for several years intrusted the command of it to captain hull. the "pilgrim" was one of the smallest, but one of the best of that flotilla, which james w. weldon sent each season, not only beyond behring strait, as far as the northern seas, but also in the quarters of tasmania or of cape horn, as far as the antarctic ocean. she sailed in a superior manner. her very easily managed rigging permitted her to venture, with a few men, in sight of the impenetrable fields of ice of the southern hemisphere. captain hull knew how to disentangle himself, as the sailors say, from among those icebergs, which, during the summer, drift by the way of new zealand or the cape of good hope, under a much lower latitude than that which they reach in the northern seas of the globe. it is true that only icebergs of small dimensions were found there; they were already worn by collisions, eaten away by the warm waters, and the greater number of them were going to melt in the pacific or the atlantic. under the command of captain hull, a good seaman, and also one of the most skilful harpooners of the flotilla, was a crew composed of five sailors and a novice. it was a small number for this whale-fishing, which requires a good many persons. men are necessary as well for the management of the boats for the attack, as for the cutting up of the captured animals. but, following the example of certain ship-owners, james w. weldon found it much more economical to embark at san francisco only the number of sailors necessary for the management of the vessel. new zealand did not lack harpooners, sailors of all nationalities, deserters or others, who sought to be hired for the season, and who followed skilfully the trade of fishermen. the busy period once over, they were paid, they were put on shore, and they waited till the whalers of the following year should come to claim their services again. there was obtained by this method better work from the disposable sailors, and a much larger profit derived by their co-operation. they had worked in this way on board the "pilgrim." the schooner had just finished her season on the limit of the antarctic circle. but she had not her full number of barrels of oil, of coarse whalebones nor of fine. even at that period, fishing was becoming difficult. the whales, pursued to excess, were becoming rare. the "right" whale, which bears the name of "north caper," in the northern ocean, and that of "sulphur bottom," in the south sea, was likely to disappear. the whalers had been obliged to fall back on the finback or jubarte, a gigantic mammifer, whose attacks are not without danger. this is what captain hull had done during this cruise; but on his next voyage he calculated on reaching a higher latitude, and, if necessary, going in sight of clarie and adelie lands, whose discovery, contested by the american wilkes, certainly belongs to the illustrious commander of the "astrolabe" and the zelee, to the frenchman, dumont d'urville. in fact, the season had not been favorable for the "pilgrim." in the beginning of january, that is to say, toward the middle of the southern summer, and even when the time for the whalers to return had not yet arrived captain hull had been obliged to abandon the fishing places. his additional crew--a collection of pretty sad subjects--gave him an excuse, as they say, and he determined to separate from them. the "pilgrim" then steered to the northwest, for new zealand, which she sighted on the th of january. she arrived at waitemata, port of auckland, situated at the lowest end of the gulf of chouraki, on the east coast of the northern island, and landed the fishermen who had been engaged for the season. the crew was not satisfied. the cargo of the "pilgrim" was at least two hundred barrels of oil short. there had never been worse fishing. captain hull felt the disappointment of a hunter who, for the first time, returns as he went away--or nearly so. his self-love, greatly excited, was at stake, and he did not pardon those scoundrels whose insubordination had compromised the results of his cruise. it was in vain that he endeavored to recruit a new fishing crew at auckland. all the disposable seamen were embarked on the other whaling vessels. he was thus obliged to give up the hope of completing the "pilgrim's" cargo, and captain hull was preparing to leave auckland definitely, when a request for a passage was made which he could not refuse. mrs. weldon, wife of the "pilgrim's" owner, was then at auckland with her young son jack, aged about five years, and one of her relatives, her cousin benedict. james w. weldon, whom his business operations sometimes obliged to visit new zealand, had brought the three there, and intended to bring them back to san francisco. but, just as the whole family was going to depart, little jack became seriously ill, and his father, imperatively recalled by his business, was obliged to leave auckland, leaving his wife, his son, and cousin benedict there. three months had passed away--three long months of separation, which were extremely painful to mrs. weldon. meanwhile her young child was restored to health, and she was at liberty to depart, when she was informed of the arrival of the "pilgrim." now, at that period, in order to return to san francisco, mrs. weldon found herself under the necessity of going to australia by one of the vessels of the golden age trans-oceanic company, which ply between melbourne and the isthmus of panama by papeiti. then, once arrived at panama, it would be necessary for her to await the departure of the american steamer, which establishes a regular communication between the isthmus and california. thence, delays, trans-shipments, always disagreeable for a woman and a child. it was just at this time that the "pilgrim" came into port at auckland. mrs. weldon did not hesitate, but asked captain hull to take her on board to bring her back to san francisco--she, her son, cousin benedict, and nan, an old negress who had served her since her infancy. three thousand marine leagues to travel on a sailing vessel! but captain hull's ship was so well managed, and the season still so fine on both sides of the equator! captain hull consented, and immediately put his own cabin at the disposal of his passenger. he wished that, during a voyage which might last forty or fifty days, mrs. weldon should be installed as well as possible on board the whaler. there were then certain advantages for mrs. weldon in making the voyage under these conditions. the only disadvantage was that this voyage would be necessarily prolonged in consequence of this circumstance--the "pilgrim" would go to valparaiso, in chili, to effect her unloading. that done, there would be nothing but to ascend the american coast, with land breezes, which make these parts very agreeable. besides, mrs. weldon was a courageous woman, whom the sea did not frighten. then thirty years of age, she was of robust health, being accustomed to long voyages, for, having shared with her husband the fatigues of several passages, she did not fear the chances more or less contingent, of shipping on board a ship of moderate tonnage. she knew captain hull to be an excellent seaman, in whom james w. weldon had every confidence. the "pilgrim" was a strong vessel, capital sailer, well quoted in the flotilla of american whalers. the opportunity presented itself. it was necessary to profit by it. mrs. weldon did profit by it. cousin benedict--it need not be said--would accompany her. this cousin was a worthy man, about fifty years of age. but, notwithstanding his fifty years, it would not have been prudent to let him go out alone. long, rather than tall, narrow, rather than thin, his figure bony, his skull enormous and very hairy, one recognized in his whole interminable person one of those worthy savants, with gold spectacles, good and inoffensive beings, destined to remain great children all their lives, and to finish very old, like centenaries who would die at nurse. "cousin benedict"--he was called so invariably, even outside of the family, and, in truth, he was indeed one of those good men who seem to be the born cousins of all the world--cousin benedict, always impeded by his long arms and his long limbs, would be absolutely incapable of attending to matters alone, even in the most ordinary circumstances of life. he was not troublesome, oh! no, but rather embarrassing for others, and embarrassed for himself. easily satisfied, besides being very accommodating, forgetting to eat or drink, if some one did not bring him something to eat or drink, insensible to the cold as to the heat, he seemed to belong less to the animal kingdom than to the vegetable kingdom. one must conceive a very useless tree, without fruit and almost without leaves, incapable of giving nourishment or shelter, but with a good heart. such was cousin benedict. he would very willingly render service to people if, as mr. prudhomme would say, he were capable of rendering it. finally, his friends loved him for his very feebleness. mrs. weldon regarded him as her child--a large elder brother of her little jack. it is proper to add here that cousin benedict was, meanwhile, neither idle nor unoccupied. on the contrary, he was a worker. his only passion--natural history--absorbed him entirely. to say "natural history" is to say a great deal. we know that the different parts of which this science is composed are zoology, botany, mineralogy, and geology. now cousin benedict was, in no sense, a botanist, nor a mineralogist, nor a geologist. was he, then, a zoologist in the entire acceptation of the word, a kind of cuvier of the new world, decomposing an animal by analysis, or putting it together again by synthesis, one of those profound connoisseurs, versed in the study of the four types to which modern science refers all animal existence, vertebrates, mollusks, articulates, and radiates? of these four divisions, had the artless but studious savant observed the different classes, and sought the orders, the families, the tribes, the genera, the species, and the varieties which distinguish them? no. had cousin benedict devoted himself to the study of the vertebrates, mammals, birds, reptiles, and fishes? no. was it to the mollusks, from the cephalopodes to the bryozoans, that he had given his preference, and had malacology no more secrets for him? not at all. then it was on the radiates, echinoderms, acalephes, polypes, entozoons, sponges, and infusoria, that he had for such a long time burned the midnight oil? it must, indeed, be confessed that it was not on the radiates. now, in zoology there only remains to be mentioned the division of the articulates, so it must be that it was on this division that cousin benedict's only passion was expended. yes, and still it is necessary to select. this branch of the articulates counts six classes: insects, myriapodes, arachnides, crustaceans, cirrhopodes, and annelides. now, cousin benedict, scientifically speaking, would not know how to distinguish an earth-worm from a medicinal leech, a sand-fly from a glans-marinus, a common spider from a false scorpion, a shrimp from a frog, a gally-worm from a scolopendra. but, then, what was cousin benedict? simply an entomologist--nothing more. to that, doubtless, it may be said that in its etymological acceptation, entomology is that part of the natural sciences which includes all the articulates. that is true, in a general way; but it is the custom to give this word a more restricted sense. it is then only applied, properly speaking, to the study of insects, that is to say: "all the articulate animals of which the body, composed of rings placed end to end, forms three distinct segments, and which possesses three pairs of legs, which have given them the name of hexapodes." now, as cousin benedict had confined himself to the study of the articulates of this class, he was only an entomologist. but, let us not be mistaken about it. in this class of the insects are counted not less than ten orders: . orthopterans as grasshoppers, crickets, etc. . neuropters as ant-eaters, dragon-flies or libellula. . hymenopters as bees, wasps, ants. . lepidopters as butterflies, etc. . hemipters as cicada, plant-lice, fleas, etc. . coleopters as cockchafers, fire-flies, etc. . dipters as gnats, musquitoes, flies. . rhipipters as stylops. . parasites as acara, etc. . thysanurans as lepidotus, flying-lice, etc. now, in certain of these orders, the coleopters, for example, there are recognized thirty thousand species, and sixty thousand in the dipters; so subjects for study are not wanting, and it will be conceded that there is sufficient in this class alone to occupy a man! thus, cousin benedict's life was entirely and solely consecrated to entomology. to this science he gave all his hours--all, without exception, even the hours of sleep, because he invariably dreamt "hexapodes." that he carried pins stuck in his sleeves and in the collar of his coat, in the bottom of his hat, and in the facings of his vest, need not be mentioned. when cousin benedict returned from some scientific promenade his precious head-covering in particular was no more than a box of natural history, being bristling inside and outside with pierced insects. and now all will be told about this original when it is stated, that it was on account of his passion for entomology that he had accompanied mr. and mrs. weldon to new zealand. there his collection was enriched by some rare subjects, and it will be readily understood that he was in haste to return to classify them in the cases of his cabinet in san francisco. so, as mrs. weldon and her child were returning to america by the "pilgrim," nothing more natural than for cousin benedict to accompany them during that passage. but it was not on him that mrs. weldon could rely, if she should ever find herself in any critical situation. very fortunately, the prospect was only that of a voyage easily made during the fine season, and on board of a ship whose captain merited all her confidence. during the three days that the "pilgrim" was in port at waitemata, mrs. weldon made her preparations in great haste, for she did not wish to delay the departure of the schooner. the native servants whom she employed in her dwelling in auckland were dismissed, and, on the d january, she embarked on board the "pilgrim," bringing only her son jack, cousin benedict, and nan, her old negress. cousin benedict carried all his curious collection of insects in a special box. in this collection figured, among others, some specimens of those new staphylins, species of carnivorous coleopters, whose eyes are placed above the head, and which, till then, seemed to be peculiar to new caledonia. a certain venomous spider, the "katipo," of the maoris, whose bite is often fatal to the natives, had been very highly recommended to him. but a spider does not belong to the order of insects properly so called; it is placed in that of the arachnida, and, consequently, was valueless in cousin benedict's eyes. thus he scorned it, and the most beautiful jewel of his collection was a remarkable staphylin from new zealand. it is needless to say that cousin benedict, by paying a heavy premium, had insured his cargo, which to him seemed much more precious than all the freight of oil and bones stowed away in the hold of the "pilgrim." just as the "pilgrim" was getting under sail, when mrs. weldon and her companion for the voyage found themselves on the deck of the schooner, captain hull approached his passenger: "it is understood, mrs. weldon," he said to her, "that, if you take passage on board the 'pilgrim,' it is on your own responsibility." "why do you make that observation to me, mr. hull?" asked mrs. weldon. "because i have not received an order from your husband in regard to it, and, all things considered, a schooner cannot offer you the guarantees of a good passage, like a packet-boat, specially intended to carry travelers." "if my husband were here," replied mrs. weldon, "do you think, mr. hull, that he would hesitate to embark on the 'pilgrim,' in company with his wife and child?" "no, mrs. weldon, he would not hesitate," said captain hull; "no, indeed! no more than i should hesitate myself! the 'pilgrim' is a good ship after all, even though she has made but a sad cruise, and i am sure of her, as much so as a seaman can be of the ship which he has commanded for several years. the reason i speak, mrs. weldon, is to get rid of personal responsibility, and to repeat that you will not find on board the comfort to which you have been accustomed." "as it is only a question of comfort, mr. hull," replied mrs. weldon, "that should not stop me. i am not one of those troublesome passengers who complain incessantly of the narrowness of the cabins, and the insufficiency of the table." then, after looking for a few moments at her little jack, whom she held by the hand, mrs. weldon said: "let us go, mr. hull!" the orders were given to get under way at once, the sails were set, and the "pilgrim," working to get out to sea in the shortest time possible, steered for the american coast. but, three days after her departure, the schooner, thwarted by strong breezes from the east, was obliged to tack to larboard to make headway against the wind. so, at the date of february d, captain hull still found himself in a higher latitude than he would have wished, and in the situation of a sailor who wanted to double cape horn rather than reach the new continent by the shortest course. chapter ii. dick sand. meanwhile the sea was favorable, and, except the delays, navigation would be accomplished under very supportable conditions. mrs. weldon had been installed on board the "pilgrim" as comfortably as possible. neither poop nor "roufle" was at the end of the deck. there was no stern cabin, then, to receive the passengers. she was obliged to be contented with captain hull's cabin, situated aft, which constituted his modest sea lodging. and still it had been necessary for the captain to insist, in order to make her accept it. there, in that narrow lodging, was installed mrs. weldon, with her child and old nan. she took her meals there, in company with the captain and cousin benedict, for whom they had fitted up a kind of cabin on board. as to the commander of the "pilgrim," he had settled himself in a cabin belonging to the ship's crew--a cabin which would be occupied by the second officer, if there were a second one on board. but the brig-schooner was navigated, we know, under conditions which enabled her to dispense with the services of a second officer. the men of the "pilgrim," good and strong seamen, were very much united by common ideas and habits. this fishing season was the fourth which they had passed together. all americans of the west, they were acquainted for a long period, and belonged to the same coast of the state of california. these brave men showed themselves very thoughtful towards mrs. weldon, the wife of the owner of their ship, for whom they professed boundless devotion. it must be said that, largely interested in the profits of the ship, they had navigated till then with great gain. if, by reason of their small number, they did not spare themselves, it was because every labor increased their earnings in the settling of accounts at the end of each season. this time, it is true, the profit would be almost nothing, and that gave them just cause to curse and swear against those new zealand scoundrels. one man on board, alone among all, was not of american origin. portuguese by birth, but speaking english fluently, he was called negoro, and filled the humble position of cook on the schooner. the "pilgrim's" cook having deserted at auckland, this negoro, then out of employment, offered himself for the place. he was a taciturn man, not at all communicative, who kept to himself, but did his work satisfactorily. in engaging him, captain hull seemed to be rather fortunate, and since embarking, the master cook had merited no reproach. meanwhile, captain hull regretted not having had the time to inform himself sufficiently about negoro's antecedents. his face, or rather his look, was only half in his favor, and when it is necessary to bring an unknown into the life on board, so confined, so intimate, his antecedents should be carefully inquired into. negoro might be forty years old. thin, nervous, of medium height, with very brown hair, skin somewhat swarthy, he ought to be strong. had he received any instruction? yes; that appeared in certain observations which escaped him sometimes. besides, he never spoke of his past life, he said not a word about his family. whence he came, where he had lived, no one could tell. what would his future be? no one knew any more about that. he only announced his intention of going on shore at valparaiso. he was certainly a singular man. at all events, he did not seem to be a sailor. he seemed to be even more strange to marine things than is usual with a master cook, part of whose existence is passed at sea. meanwhile, as to being incommoded by the rolling and pitching of the ship, like men who have never navigated, he was not in the least, and that is something for a cook on board a vessel. finally, he was little seen. during the day, he most generally remained confined in his narrow kitchen, before the stove for melting, which occupied the greater part of it. when night came and the fire in the stove was out, negoro went to the cabin which was assigned to him at the end of the crew's quarters. then he went to bed at once and went to sleep. it has been already said that the "pilgrim's" crew was composed of five sailors and a novice. this young novice, aged fifteen, was the child of an unknown father and mother. this poor being, abandoned from his birth, had been received and brought up by public charity. dick sand--that was his name--must have been originally from the state of new york, and doubtless from the capital of that state. if the name of dick--an abbreviation of richard--had been given to the little orphan, it was because it was the name of the charitable passer-by who had picked him up two or three hours after his birth. as to the name of sand, it was attributed to him in remembrance of the place where he had been found; that is to say, on that point of land called sandy-hook, which forms the entrance of the port of new york, at the mouth of the hudson. dick sand, when he should reach his full growth, would not exceed middle height, but he was well built. one could not doubt that he was of anglo-saxon origin. he was brown, however, with blue eyes, in which the crystalline sparkled with ardent fire. his seaman's craft had already prepared him well for the conflicts of life. his intelligent physiognomy breathed forth energy. it was not that of an audacious person, it was that of a darer. these three words from an unfinished verse of virgil are often cited: "audaces fortuna juvat".... but they are quoted incorrectly. the poet said: "audentes fortuna juvat".... it is on the darers, not on the audacious, that fortune almost always smiled. the audacious may be unguarded. the darer thinks first, acts afterwards. there is the difference! dick sand was _audens_. at fifteen he already knew how to take a part, and to carry out to the end whatever his resolute spirit had decided upon. his manner, at once spirited and serious, attracted attention. he did not squander himself in words and gestures, as boys of his age generally do. early, at a period of life when they seldom discuss the problems of existence, he had looked his miserable condition in the face, and he had promised "to make" himself. and he had made himself--being already almost a man at an age when others are still only children. at the same time, very nimble, very skilful in all physical exercises, dick sand was one of those privileged beings, of whom it may be said that they were born with two left feet and two right hands. in that way, they do everything with the right hand, and always set out with the left foot. public charity, it has been said, had brought up the little orphan. he had been put first in one of those houses for children, where there is always, in america, a place for the little waifs. then at four, dick learned to read, write and count in one of those state of new york schools, which charitable subscriptions maintain so generously. at eight, the taste for the sea, which dick had from birth, caused him to embark as cabin-boy on a packet ship of the south sea. there he learned the seaman's trade, and as one ought to learn it, from the earliest age. little by little he instructed himself under the direction of officers who were interested in this little old man. so the cabin-boy soon became the novice, expecting something better, of course. the child who understands, from the beginning, that work is the law of life, the one who knows, from an early age, that he will gain his bread only by the sweat of his brow--a bible precept which is the rule of humanity--that one is probably intended for great things; for some day he will have, with the will, the strength to accomplish them. it was, when he was a cabin-boy on board a merchant vessel, that dick sand was remarked by captain hull. this honest seaman immediately formed a friendship with this honest young boy, and later he made him known to the ship-owner, james w. weldon. the latter felt a lively interest in this orphan, whose education he completed at san francisco, and he had him brought up in the catholic religion, to which his family adhered. during the course of his studies, dick sand showed a particular liking for geography, for voyages, while waiting till he was old enough to learn that branch of mathematics which relates to navigation. then to this theoretical portion of his instruction, he did not neglect to join the practical. it was as novice that he was able to embark for the first time on the "pilgrim." a good seaman ought to understand fishing as well as navigation. it is a good preparation for all the contingencies which the maritime career admits of. besides, dick sand set out on a vessel of james w. weldon's, his benefactor, commanded by his protector, captain hull. thus he found himself in the most favorable circumstances. to speak of the extent of his devotion to the weldon family, to whom he owed everything, would be superfluous. better let the facts speak for themselves. but it will be understood how happy the young novice was when he learned that mrs. weldon was going to take passage on board the "pilgrim." mrs. weldon for several years had been a mother to him, and in jack he saw a little brother, all the time keeping in remembrance his position in respect to the son of the rich ship-owner. but--his protectors knew it well--this good seed which they had sown had fallen on good soil. the orphan's heart was filled with gratitude, and some day, if it should be necessary to give his life for those who had taught him to instruct himself and to love god, the young novice would not hesitate to give it. finally, to be only fifteen, but to act and think as if he were thirty, that was dick sand. mrs. weldon knew what her _protégé_ was worth. she could trust little jack with him without any anxiety. dick sand cherished this child, who, feeling himself loved by this "large brother," sought his company. during those long leisure hours, which are frequent in a voyage, when the sea is smooth, when the well set up sails require no management, dick and jack were almost always together. the young novice showed the little boy everything in his craft which seemed amusing. without fear mrs. weldon saw jack, in company with dick sand, spring out on the shrouds, climb to the top of the mizzen-mast, or to the booms of the mizzen-topmast, and come down again like an arrow the whole length of the backstays. dick sand went before or followed him, always ready to hold him up or keep him back, if his six-year-old arms grew feeble during those exercises. all that benefited little jack, whom sickness had made somewhat pale; but his color soon came back on board the "pilgrim," thanks to this gymnastic, and to the bracing sea-breezes. so passed the time. under these conditions the passage was being accomplished, and only the weather was not very favorable, neither the passengers nor the crew of the "pilgrim" would have had cause to complain. meanwhile this continuance of east winds made captain hull anxious. he did not succeed in getting the vessel into the right course. later, near the tropic of capricorn, he feared finding calms which would delay him again, without speaking of the equatorial current, which would irresistibly throw him back to the west. he was troubled then, above all, for mrs. weldon, by the delays for which, meanwhile, he was not responsible. so, if he should meet, on his course, some transatlantic steamer on the way toward america, he already thought of advising his passenger to embark on it. unfortunately, he was detained in latitudes too high to cross a steamer running to panama; and, besides, at that period communication across the pacific, between australia and the new world, was not as frequent as it has since become. it then was necessary to leave everything to the grace of god, and it seemed as if nothing would trouble this monotonous passage, when the first incident occurred precisely on that day, february d, in the latitude and longitude indicated at the beginning of this history. dick sand and jack, toward nine o'clock in the morning, in very clear weather, were installed on the booms of the mizzen-topmast. thence they looked down on the whole ship and a portion of the ocean in a largo circumference. behind, the perimeter of the horizon was broken to their eyes, only by the mainmast, carrying brigantine and fore-staff. that beacon hid from them a part of the sea and the sky. in the front, they saw the bowsprit stretching over the waves, with its three jibs, which were hauled tightly, spread out like three great unequal wings. underneath rounded the foremast, and above, the little top-sail and the little gallant-sail, whose bolt-rope quivered with the pranks of the breeze. the schooner was then running on the larboard tack, and hugging the wind as much as possible. dick sand explained to jack how the "pilgrim," ballasted properly, well balanced in all her parts, could not capsize, even if she gave a pretty strong heel to starboard, when the little boy interrupted him. "what do i see there?" said he. "you see something, jack?" demanded dick sand, who stood up straight on the booms. "yes--there!" replied little jack, showing a point of the sea, left open by the interval between the stays of the standing-jib and the flying-jib. dick sand looked at the point indicated attentively, and forthwith, with a loud voice, he cried; "a wreck to windward, over against starboard!" * * * * * chapter iii. the wreck. dick sand's cry brought all the crew to their feet. the men who were not on watch came on deck. captain hull, leaving his cabin, went toward the bow. mrs. weldon, nan, even the indifferent cousin benedict himself, came to lean over the starboard rail, so as to see the wreck signaled by the young novice. negoro, alone, did not leave the cabin, which served him for a kitchen; and as usual, of all the crew, he was the only one whom the encounter with a wreck did not appear to interest. then all regarded attentively the floating object which the waves were rocking, three miles from the "pilgrim." "ah! what can that be?" said a sailor. "some abandoned raft," replied another. "perhaps there are some unhappy shipwrecked ones on that raft," said mrs. weldon. "we shall find out," replied captain hull. "but that wreck is not a raft. it is a hull thrown over on the side." "ah! is it not more likely to be some marine animal--some mammifer of great size?" observed cousin benedict. "i do not think so," replied the novice. "then what is your idea, dick?" asked mrs. weldon. "an overturned hull, as the captain has said, mrs. weldon. it even seems to me that i see its copper keel glistening in the sun." "yes--indeed," replied captain hull. then addressing the helmsman: "steer to the windward, bolton. let her go a quarter, so as to come alongside the wreck." "yes, sir," replied the helmsman. "but," continued cousin benedict, "i keep to what i have said. positively it is an animal." "then this would be a whale in copper," replied captain hull, "for, positively, also, i see it shine in the sun!" "at all events, cousin benedict," added mrs. weldon, "you will agree with us that this whale must be dead, for it is certain that it does not make the least movement." "ah! cousin weldon," replied cousin benedict, who was obstinate, "this would not be the first time that one has met a whale sleeping on the surface of the waves." "that is a fact," replied captain hull; "but to-day, the thing is not a whale, but a ship." "we shall soon see," replied cousin benedict, who, after all, would give all the mammifers of the arctic or antarctic seas for an insect of a rare species. "steer, bolton, steer!" cried captain hull again, "and do not board the wreck. keep a cable's length. if we cannot do much harm to this hull, it might cause us some damage, and i do not care to hurt the sides of the 'pilgrim' with it. tack a little, bolton, tack!" the "pilgrim's" prow, which had been directed toward the wreck, was turned aside by a slight movement of the helm. the schooner was still a mile from the capsized hull. the sailors were eagerly looking at it. perhaps it held a valuable cargo, which it would be possible to transfer to the "pilgrim." we know that, in these salvages, the third of the value belongs to the rescuers, and, in this case, if the cargo was not damaged, the crew, as they say, would make "a good haul." this would be a fish of consolation for their incomplete fishing. a quarter of an hour later the wreck was less than a mile from the "pilgrim." it was indeed a ship, which presented itself on its side, to the starboard. capsized as far as the nettings, she heeled so much that it would be almost impossible to stand upon her deck. nothing could be seen beyond her masts. from the port-shrouds were banging only some ends of broken rope, and the chains broken by the cloaks of white-crested waves. on the starboard side opened a large hole between the timbers of the frame-work and the damaged planks. "this ship has been run into," cried dick sand. "there is no doubt of that," replied captain hull; "and it is a miracle that she did not sink immediately." "if there has been a collision," observed mrs. weldon, "we must hope that the crew of this ship has been picked up by those who struck her." "it is to be hoped so, mrs. weldon," replied captain, hull, "unless this crew sought refuge in their own boats after the collision, in case the colliding vessel should sail right on--which, alas! sometimes happens." "is it possible? that would be a proof of very great inhumanity, mr. hull." "yes, mrs. weldon. yes! and instances are not wanting. as to the crew of this ship, what makes me believe that it is more likely they have left it, is that i do not see a single boat; and, unless the men on board have been picked up, i should be more inclined to think that they have tried to roach the land. but, at this distance from the american continent, or from the islands of oceanica, it is to be feared that they have not succeeded." "perhaps," said mrs. weldon, "we shall never know the secret of this catastrophe. meanwhile, it might be possible that some man of the crew is still on board." "that is not probable, mrs. weldon," replied captain hull. "our approach would be already known, and they would make some signals to us. but we shall make sure of it.--luff a little, bolton, luff," cried captain hull, while indicating with his hand what course to take. the "pilgrim" was now only three cables' length from the wreck, and they could no longer doubt that this hull had been completely abandoned by all its crew. but, at that moment, dick sand made a gesture which imperiously demanded silence. "listen, listen!" said he. each listened. "i hear something like a bark!" cried dick sand. in fact, a distant barking resounded from the interior of the hull. certainly there was a living dog there, imprisoned perhaps, for it was possible that the hatches were hermetically closed. but they could not see it, the deck of the capsized vessel being still invisible. "if there be only a dog there, mr. hull," said mrs. "weldon," we shall save it." "yes, yes!" cried little jack, "we shall save it. i shall give it something to eat! it will love us well! mama, i am going to bring it a piece of sugar!" "stay still, my child," replied mrs. weldon smiling. "i believe that the poor animal is dying of hunger, and it will prefer a good mess to your morsel of sugar." "well, then, let it have my soup," cried little jack. "i can do without it very well." at that moment the barking was more distinctly heard. three hundred feet, at the most, separated the two ships. almost immediately a dog of great height appeared on the starboard netting, and clung there, barking more despairingly than ever. "howik," said captain hull, turning toward the master of the "pilgrim's" crew, "heave to, and lower the small boat." "hold on, my dog, hold on!" cried little jack to the animal, which seemed to answer him with a half-stifled bark. the "pilgrim's" sails were rapidly furled, so that the ship should remain almost motionless, less than half a cable's length from the wreck. the boat was brought alongside. captain hull, dick sand and two sailors got into it at once. the dog barked all the time. it tried to hold on to the netting, but every moment it fell back on the deck. one would say that its barks were no longer addressed to those who were coming to him. were they then addressed to some sailors or passengers imprisoned in this ship? "is there, then, on board some shipwrecked one who has survived?" mrs. weldon asked herself. a few strokes of the oars and the "pilgrim's" boat would reach the capsized hull. but, suddenly, the dog's manner changed. furious barks succeeded its first barks inviting the rescuers to come. the most violent anger excited the singular animal. "what can be the matter with that dog?" said captain hull, while the boat was turning the stern of the vessel, so as to come alongside of the part of the deck lying under the water. what captain hull could not then observe, what could not be noticed even on board the "pilgrim," was that the dog's fury manifested itself just at the moment when negoro, leaving his kitchen, had just come toward the forecastle. did the dog then know and recognize the master cook? it was very improbable. however that may be, after looking at the dog, without showing any surprise, negoro, who, however, frowned for an instant, returned to the crew's quarters. meanwhile the boat had rounded the stern of the ship. her aftboard carried this single name: "waldeck." "waldeck," and no designation of the port attached. but, by the form of the hull, by certain details which a sailor seizes at the first glance, captain hull had, indeed, discovered that this ship was of american construction. besides, her name confirmed it. and now, this hull, it was all that remained of a large brig of five hundred tons. at the "waldeck's" prow a large opening indicated the place where the collision had occurred. in consequence of the capsizing of the hull, this opening was then five or six feet above the water--which explained why the brig had not yet foundered. on the deck, which captain hull saw in its whole extent, there was nobody. the dog, having left the netting, had just let itself slip as far as the central hatch, which was open; and it barked partly toward the interior, partly toward the exterior. "it is very certain that this animal is not alone on board!" observed dick sand. "no, in truth!" replied captain hull. the boat then skirted the larboard netting, which was half under water. a somewhat strong swell of the sea would certainly submerge the "waldeck" in a few moments. the brig's deck had been swept from one end to the other. there was nothing left except the stumps of the mainmast and of the mizzen-mast, both broken off two feet above the scuttles, and which had fallen in the collision, carrying away shrouds, back-stays, and rigging. meanwhile, as far as the eye could see, no wreck was visible around the "waldeck"--which seemed to indicate that the catastrophe was already several days old. "if some unhappy creatures have survived the collision," said captain hull, "it is probable that either hunger or thirst has finished them, for the water must have gained the store-room. there are only dead bodies on board!" "no," cried dick sand, "no! the dog would not bark that way. there are living beings on board!" at that moment the animal, responding to the call of the novice, slid to the sea, and swam painfully toward the boat, for it seemed to be exhausted. they took it in, and it rushed eagerly, not for a piece of bread that dick sand offered it first, but to a half-tub which contained a little fresh water. "this poor animal is dying of thirst!" cried dick sand. the boat then sought a favorable place to board the "waldeck" more easily, and for that purpose it drew away a few strokes. the dog evidently thought that its rescuers did not wish to go on board, for he seized dick sand by his jacket, and his lamentable barks commenced again with new strength. they understood it. its pantomime and its language were as clear as a man's language could be. the boat was brought immediately as far as the larboard cat-head. there the two sailors moored it firmly, while captain hull and dick sand, setting foot on the deck at the same time as the dog, raised themselves, not without difficulty, to the hatch which opened between the stumps of the two masts. by this hatch the two made their way into the hold. the "waldeck's" hold, half full of water, contained no goods. the brig sailed with ballast--a ballast of sand which had slid to larboard and which helped to keep the ship on her side. on that head, then, there was no salvage to effect. "nobody here," said captain hull. "nobody," replied the novice, after having gone to the foremost part of the hold. but the dog, which was on the deck, kept on barking and seemed to call the captain's attention more imperatively. "let us go up again," said captain hull to the novice. both appeared again on the deck. the dog, running to them, sought to draw them to the poop. they followed it. there, in the square, five bodies--undoubtedly five corpses--were lying on the floor. by the daylight which entered in waves by the opening, captain hull discovered the bodies of five negroes. dick sand, going from one to the other, thought he felt that the unfortunates were still breathing. "on board! on board!" cried captain hull. the two sailors who took care of the boat were called, and helped to carry the shipwrecked men out of the poop. this was not without difficulty, but two minutes after, the five blacks were laid in the boat, without being at all conscious that any one was trying to save them. a few drops of cordial, then a little fresh water prudently administered, might, perhaps, recall them to life. the "pilgrim" remained a half cable's length from the wreck, and the boat would soon reach her. a girt-line was let down from the main-yard, and each of the blacks drawn up separately reposed at last on the "pilgrim's" deck. the dog had accompanied them. "the unhappy creatures!" cried mrs. weldon, on perceiving those poor men, who were only inert bodies. "they are alive, mrs. weldon. we shall save them. yes, we shall save them," cried dick sand. "what has happened to them?" demanded cousin benedict. "wait till they can speak," replied captain hull, "and they will tell us their history. but first of all, let us make them drink a little water, in which we shall mix a few drops of rum." then, turning round: "negoro!" he called. at that name the dog stood up as if it knew the sound, its hair bristling, its mouth open. meanwhile, the cook did not appear. "negoro!" repeated captain hull. the dog again gave signs of extreme fury. negoro left the kitchen. hardly had he shown himself on the deck, than the dog sprang on him and wanted to jump at his throat. with a blow from the poker with which he was armed, the cook drove away the animal, which some of the sailors succeeded in holding. "do you know this dog?" captain hull asked the master cook. "i?" replied negoro. "i have never seen it." "that is singular," murmured dick sand. * * * * * chapter iv. the survivors of the "waldeck." the slave trade was still carried on, on a large scale, in all equinoctial africa. notwithstanding the english and french cruisers, ships loaded with slaves leave the coasts of angola and mozambique every year to transport negroes to various parts of the world, and, it must be said, of the civilized world. captain hull was not ignorant of it. though these parts were not ordinarily frequented by slave-ships, he asked himself if these blacks, whose salvage he had just effected, were not the survivors of a cargo of slaves that the "waldeck" was going to sell to some pacific colony. at all events, if that was so, the blacks became free again by the sole act of setting foot on his deck, and he longed to tell it to them. meanwhile the most earnest care had been lavished on the shipwrecked men from the "waldeck." mrs. weldon, aided by nan and dick sand, had administered to them a little of that good fresh water of which they must have been deprived for several days, and that, with some nourishment, sufficed to restore them to life. the eldest of these blacks--he might be about sixty years old--was soon able to speak, and he could answer in english the questions which were addressed to him. "the ship which carried you was run into?" asked captain hull, first of all. "yes," replied the old black. "ten days ago our ship was struck, during a very dark night. we were asleep----" "but the men of the 'waldeck'--what has become of them?" "they were no longer there, sir, when my companions and i reached the deck." "then, was the crew able to jump on board the ship which struck the 'waldeck'?" demanded captain hull. "perhaps, and we must indeed hope so for their sakes." "and that ship, after the collision, did it not return to pick you up?" "no." "did she then go down herself?" "she did not founder," replied the old black, shaking his head, "for we could see her running away in the night." this fact, which was attested by all the survivors of the "waldeck," may appear incredible. it is only too true, however, that captains, after some terrible collision, due to their imprudence, have often taken flight without troubling themselves about the unfortunate ones whom they had put in danger, and without endeavoring to carry assistance to them. that drivers do as much and leave to others, on the public way, the trouble of repairing the misfortune which they have caused, that is indeed to be condemned. still, their victims are assured of finding immediate help. but, that men to men, abandon each other thus at sea, it is not to be believed, it is a shame! meanwhile, captain hull knew several examples of such inhumanity, and he was obliged to tell mrs. weldon that such facts, monstrous as they might be, were unhappily not rare. then, continuing: "whence came the 'waldeck?'" he asked. "from melbourne." "then you are not slaves?" "no, sir!" the old black answered quickly, as he stood up straight. "we are subjects of the state of pennsylvania, and citizens of free america!" "my friends," replied captain hull, "believe me that you have not compromised your liberty in coming on board of the american brig, the 'pilgrim.'" in fact, the five blacks which the "waldeck" carried belonged to the state of pennsylvania. the oldest, sold in africa as a slave at the age of six years, then brought to the united states, had been freed already many years ago by the emancipation proclamation. as to his companions, much younger than he, sons of slaves liberated before their birth, they were born free; no white had ever had the right of property over them. they did not even speak that "negro" language, which does not use the article, and only knows the infinitive of the verbs--a language which has disappeared little by little, indeed, since the anti-slavery war. these blacks had, then, freely left the united states, and they were returning to it freely. as they told captain hull, they were engaged as laborers at an englishman's who owned a vast mine near melbourne, in southern australia. there they had passed three years, with great profit to themselves; their engagement ended, they had wished to return to america. they then had embarked on the "waldeck," paying their passage like ordinary passengers. on the th of december they left melbourne, and seventeen days after, during a very black night, the "waldeck" had been struck by a large steamer. the blacks were in bed. a few seconds after the collision, which was terrible, they rushed on the deck. already the ship's masts had fallen, and the "waldeck" was lying on the side; but she would not sink, the water not having invaded the hold sufficiently to cause it. as to the captain and crew of the "waldeck," all had disappeared, whether some had been precipitated into the sea, whether others were caught on the rigging of the colliding ship, which, after the collision, had fled to return no more. the five blacks were left alone on board, on a half-capsized hull, twelve hundred miles from any land. then oldest of the negroes was named tom. his age, as well as his energetic character, and his experience, often put to the proof during a long life of labor, made him the natural head of the companions who were engaged with him. the other blacks were young men from twenty-five to thirty years old, whose names were bat (abbreviation of bartholomew), son of old tom, austin, acteon, and hercules, all four well made and vigorous, and who would bring a high price in the markets of central africa. even though they had suffered terribly, one could easily recognize in them magnificent specimens of that strong race, on which a liberal education, drawn from the numerous schools of north america, had already impressed its seal. tom and his companions then found themselves alone on the "waldeck" after the collision, having no means of raising that inert hull, without even power to leave it, because the two boats on board had been shattered in the boarding. they were reduced to waiting for the passage of a ship, while the wreck drifted little by little under the action of the currents. this action explained why she had been encountered so far out of her course, for the "waldeck," having left melbourne, ought to be found in much lower latitude. during the ten days which elapsed between the collision and the moment when the "pilgrim" arrived in sight of the shipwrecked vessel the five blacks were sustained by some food which they had found in the office of the landing-place. but, not being able to penetrate into the steward's room, which the water entirely covered, they had had no spirits to quench their thirst, and they had suffered cruelly, the water casks fastened to the deck having been stove in by the collision. since the night before, tom and his companions, tortured by thirst, had become unconscious. such was the recital which tom gave, in a few words, to captain hull. there was no reason to doubt the veracity of the old black. his companions confirmed all that he had said; besides, the facts pleaded for the poor men. another living being, saved on the wreck, would doubtless have spoken with the same sincerity if it had been gifted with speech. it was that dog, that the sight of negoro seemed to affect in such a disagreeable manner. there was in that some truly inexplicable antipathy. dingo--that was the name of the dog--belonged to that race of mastiffs which is peculiar to new holland. it was not in australia, however, that the captain of the "waldeck" had found it. two years before dingo, wandering half dead of hunger, had been met on the western coast of africa, near the mouth of the congo. the captain of the "waldeck" had picked up this fine animal, who, being not very sociable, seemed to be always regretting some old master, from whom he had been violently separated, and whom it would be impossible to find again in that desert country. s. v.--those two letters engraved on his collar--were all that linked this animal to a past, whose mystery one would seek in vain to solve. dingo, a magnificent and robust beast, larger than the dogs of the pyrenees, was then a superb specimen of the new holland variety of mastiffs. when it stood up, throwing its head back, it equaled the height of a man. its agility--its muscular strength, would be sufficient for one of those animals which without hesitation attack jaguars and panthers, and do not fear to face a bear. its long tail of thick hair, well stocked and stiff like a lion's tail, its general hue dark fawn-color, was only varied at the nose by some whitish streaks. this animal, under the influence of anger, might become formidable, and it will be understood that negoro was not satisfied with the reception given him by this vigorous specimen of the canine race. meanwhile, dingo, if it was not sociable, was not bad. it seemed rather to be sad. an observation which had been made by old tom on board the "waldeck" was that this dog did not seem to like blacks. it did not seek to harm them, but certainly it shunned them. may be, on that african coast where it wandered, it had suffered some bad treatment from the natives. so, though tom and his companions were honest men, dingo was never drawn toward them. during the ten days that the shipwrecked dog had passed on the "waldeck," it had kept at a distance, feeding itself, they knew not how, but having also suffered cruelly from thirst. such, then, were the survivors of this wreck, which the first surge of the sea would submerge. no doubt it would have carried only dead bodies into the depths of the ocean if the unexpected arrival of the "pilgrim," herself kept back by calms and contrary winds, had not permitted captain hull to do a work of humanity. this work had only to be completed by bringing back to their country the shipwrecked men from the "waldeck," who, in this shipwreck, had lost their savings of three years of labor. this is what was going to be done. the "pilgrim," after having effected her unloading at valparaiso, would ascend the american coast as far as california. there tom and his companions would be well received by james w. weldon--his generous wife assured them of it--and they would be provided with all that would be necessary for them to return to the state of pennsylvania. these honest men, reassured about the future, had only to thank mrs. weldon and captain hull. certainly they owed them a great deal, and although they were only poor negroes, perhaps, they did not despair of some day paying this debt of gratitude. chapter v. s. v. meanwhile, the "pilgrim" had continued her course, making for the east as much as possible. this lamentable continuance of calms did not cease to trouble captain hull--not that he was uneasy about two or three weeks' delay in a passage from new zealand to valparaiso, but because of the extra fatigue which this delay might bring to his lady passenger. meanwhile, mrs. weldon did not complain, and philosophically took her misfortune in patience. that same day, february d, toward evening, the wreck was lost sight of. captain hull was troubled, in the first place, to accommodate tom and his companions as conveniently as possible. the crew's quarters on the "pilgrim," built on the deck in the form of a "roufle," would be too small to hold them. an arrangement was then made to lodge them under the forecastle. besides, these honest men, accustomed to rude labors, could not be hard to please, and with fine weather, warm and salubrious, this sleeping-place ought to suffice for the whole passage. the life on board, shaken for a moment from its monotony by this incident, then went on as usual. tom, austin, bat, acteon, and hercules would indeed wish to make themselves useful. but with these constant winds, the sails once set, there was nothing more to do. meanwhile, when there was a veering about, the old black and his companions hastened to give a hand to the crew, and it must be confessed that when the colossal hercules hauled some rope, they were aware of it. this vigorous negro, six feet high, brought in a tackle all by himself. it was joy for little jack to look at this giant. he was not afraid of him, and when hercules hoisted him up in his arms, as if he were only a cork baby, there were cries of joy to go on. "lift me very high," said little jack. "there, master jack!" replied hercules. "am i very heavy?" "i do not even feel you." "well, higher still! to the end of your arm!" and hercules, holding the child's two little feet in his large hand, walked him about like a gymnast in a circus. jack saw himself, tall, taller, which amused him very much. he even tried to make himself heavy--which the colossus did not perceive at all. dick sand and hercules, they were two friends for little jack. he was not slow in making himself a third--that was dingo. it has been said that dingo was not a sociable dog. doubtless that held good, because the society of the "waldeck" did not suit it. on board the "pilgrim" it was quite another thing. jack probably knew how to touch the fine animal's heart. the latter soon took pleasure in playing with the little boy, whom this play pleased. it was soon discovered that dingo was one of those dogs who have a particular taste for children. besides, jack did it no harm. his greatest pleasure was to transform dingo into a swift steed, and it is safe to affirm that a horse of this kind is much superior to a pasteboard quadruped, even when it has wheels to its feet. so jack galloped bare-back on the dog, which let him do it willingly, and, in truth, jack was no heavier to it than the half of a jockey to a race-horse. but what a break each day in the stock of sugar in the store-room! dingo soon became a favorite with the whole crew. alone, negoro continued to avoid any encounter with the animal, whose antipathy was always as strong as it was inexplicable. meanwhile, little jack had not neglected dick sand, his friend of old, for dingo. all the time that was unclaimed by his duties on board, the novice passed with the little boy. mrs. weldon, it is needless to say, always regarded this intimacy with the most complete satisfaction. one day, february th, she spoke of dick to captain hull, and the captain praised the young novice in the highest terms. "that boy," he said to mrs. weldon, "will be a good seaman some day, i'll guarantee. he has truly a passion for the sea, and by this passion he makes up for the theoretical parts of the calling which he has not yet learned. what he already knows is astonishing, when we think of the short time he has had to learn." "it must be added," replied mrs. weldon, "that he is also an excellent person, a true boy, very superior to his age, and who has never merited any blame since we have known him." "yes, he is a good young man," continued the captain, "justly loved and appreciated by all." "this cruise finished," said mrs. weldon, "i know that my husband's intention is to have him follow a course of navigation, so that, he may afterwards obtain a captain's commission." "and mr. weldon is right," replied captain hull. "dick sand will one day do honor to the american marine." "this poor orphan commenced life sadly," observed mrs. weldon. "he has been in a hard school!" "doubtless, mrs. weldon; but the lessons have not been lost on him. he has learned that he must make his own way in this world, and he is in a fair way to do it." "yes, the way of duty!" "look at him now, mrs. weldon," continued captain hull. "he is at the helm, his eye fixed on the point of the foresail. no distraction on the part of this young novice, as well as no lurch to the ship. dick sand has already the confidence of an old steersman. a good beginning for a seaman. our craft, mrs. weldon, is one of those in which it is necessary to begin very young. he who has not been a cabin-boy will never arrive at being a perfect seaman, at least in the merchant marine. everything must be learned, and, consequently, everything must be at the same time instinctive and rational with the sailor--the resolution to grasp, as well as the skill to execute." "meanwhile, captain hull," replied mrs. weldon, "good officers are not lacking in the navy." "no," replied captain hull; "but, in my opinion, the best have almost all begun their career as children, and, without speaking of nelson and a few others, the worst are not those who began by being cabin-boys." at that moment they saw cousin benedict springing up from the rear companion-way. as usual he was absorbed, and as little conscious of this world as the prophet elias will be when he returns to the earth. cousin benedict began to walk about on the deck like an uneasy spirit, examining closely the interstices of the netting, rummaging under the hen-cages, putting his hand between the seams of the deck, there, where the pitch had scaled off. "ah! cousin benedict," asked mrs. weldon, "do you keep well?" "yes--cousin weldon--i am well, certainly--but i am in a hurry to get on land." "what are you looking for under that bench, mr. benedict?" asked captain hull. "insects, sir," returned cousin benedict. "what do you expect me to look for, if not insects?" "insects! faith, i must agree with you; but it is not at sea that you will enrich your collection." "and why not, sir? it is not impossible to find on board some specimen of----" "cousin benedict," said mrs. weldon, "do you then slander captain hull? his ship is so well kept, that you will return empty-handed from your hunt." captain hull began to laugh. "mrs. weldon exaggerates," replied he. "however, mr. benedict, i believe you will lose your time rummaging in our cabins." "ah! i know it well," cried cousin benedict, shrugging his shoulders. "i have had a good search----" "but, in the 'pilgrim's' hold," continued captain hull, "perhaps you will find some cockroaches--subjects of little interest, however." "of little interest, those nocturnal orthopters which have incurred the maledictions of virgil and horace!" retorted cousin benedict, standing up straight. "of little interest, those near relations of the 'periplaneta orientalis' and of the american kakerlac, which inhabit----" "which infest!" said captain hull. "which reign on board!" retorted cousin benedict, fiercely. "amiable sovereignty!" "ah! you are not an entomologist, sir?" never at my own expense." "now, cousin benedict," said mrs. weldon, smiling, "do not wish us to be devoured for love of science." "i wish, nothing, cousin weldon," replied, the fiery entomologist, "except to be able to add to my collection some rare subject which might do it honor." "are you not satisfied, then, with the conquests that you have made in new zealand?" "yes, truly, cousin weldon. i have been rather fortunate in conquering one of those new staphylins which till now had only been found some hundreds of miles further, in new caledonia." at that moment dingo, who was playing with jack, approached cousin benedict, gamboling. "go away! go away!" said the latter, pushing off the animal. "to love cockroaches and detest dogs!" cried captain hull. "oh! mr. benedict!" "a good dog, notwithstanding," said little jack, taking dingo's great head in his small hands. "yes. i do not say no," replied cousin benedict. "but what do you want? this devil of an animal has not realized the hopes i conceived on meeting it." "ah! my goodness!" cried mrs. weldon, "did you, then, hope to be able to classify it in the order of the dipters or the hymenopters?" "no," replied cousin benedict, seriously. "but is it not true that this dingo, though it be of the new zealand race, was picked up on the western coast of africa?" "nothing is more true," replied mrs. weldon, "and tom had often heard the captain of the 'waldeck' say so." "well, i had thought--i had hoped--that this dog would have brought away some specimens of hemipteras peculiar to the african fauna." "merciful heavens!" cried mrs. weldon. "and that perhaps," added cousin benedict, "some penetrating or irritating flea--of a new species----" "do you understand, dingo?" said captain hull. "do you understand, my dog? you have failed in all your duties!" "but i have examined it well," added the entomologist, with an accent of deep regret. "i have not been able to find a single insect." "which you would have immediately and mercilessly put to death, i hope!" cried captain hull. "sir," replied cousin benedict, dryly, "learn that sir john franklin made a scruple of killing the smallest insect, be it a mosquito, whose attacks are otherwise formidable as those of a flea; and meanwhile you will not hesitate to allow, that sir john franklin was a seaman who was as good as the next." "surely," said captain hull, bowing. "and one day, after being frightfully devoured by a dipter, he blew and sent it away, saying to it, without even using _thou_ or _thee_: 'go! the world is large enough for you and for me!'" "ah!" ejaculated captain hull. "yes, sir." "well, mr. benedict," retorted captain hull, "another had said that long before sir john franklin." "another?" "yes; and that other was uncle toby." "an entomologist?" asked cousin benedict, quickly. "no! sterne's uncle toby, and that worthy uncle pronounced precisely the same words, while setting free a mosquito that annoyed him, but which he thought himself at liberty to _thee_ and _thou_: 'go, poor devil,' he said to it, 'the world is large enough to contain us, thee and me!'" "an honest man, that uncle toby!" replied cousin benedict. "is he dead?" "i believe so, indeed," retorted captain hull, gravely, "as he has never existed!" and each began to laugh, looking at cousin benedict. thus, then, in these conversations, and many others, which invariably bore on some point of entomological science, whenever cousin benedict took part, passed away long hours of this navigation against contrary winds. the sea always fine, but winds which obliged the schooner to tack often. the "pilgrim" made very little headway toward the east--the breeze was so feeble; and they longed to reach those parts where the prevailing winds would be more favorable. it must be stated here that cousin benedict had endeavored to initiate the young novice into the mysteries of entomology. but dick sand had shown himself rather refractory to these advances. for want of better company the savant had fallen back on the negroes, who comprehended nothing about it. tom, acteon, bat, and austin had even finished by deserting the class, and the professor found himself reduced to hercules alone, who seemed to him to have some natural disposition to distinguish a parasite from a thysanuran. so the gigantic black lived in the world of coleopteras, carnivorous insects, hunters, gunners, ditchers, cicindelles, carabes, sylphides, moles, cockchafers, horn-beetles, tenebrions, mites, lady-birds, studying all cousin benedict's collection, not but the latter trembled on seeing his frail specimens in hercules' great hands, which were hard and strong as a vise. but the colossal pupil listened so quietly to the professor's lessons that it was worth risking something to give them. while cousin benedict worked in that manner, mrs. weldon did not leave little jack entirely unoccupied; she taught him to read and to write. as to arithmetic, it was his friend dick sand who inculcated the first elements. at the age of five, one is still only a little child, and is perhaps better instructed by practical games than by theoretical lessons necessarily a little arduous. jack learned to read, not in a primer, but by means of movable letters, printed in red on cubes of wood. he amused himself by arranging the blocks so as to form words. sometimes mrs. weldon took these cubes and composed a word; then she disarranged them, and it was for jack to replace them in the order required. the little boy liked this manner of learning to read very much. each day he passed some hours, sometimes in the cabin, sometimes on the deck, in arranging and disarranging the letters of his alphabet. now, one day this led to an incident so extraordinary, so unexpected, that it is necessary to relate with some detail. it was on the morning of february th, jack, half-lying on the deck, was amusing himself forming a word which old tom was to put together again, after the letters had been mixed. tom, with his hand over his eyes so as not to cheat, as he agreed, would see nothing, and did see nothing of the work of the little boy. of these different letters, about fifty in number, some were large, others small. besides, some of these cubes carried a figure, which taught the child to form numbers as well as to form words. these cubes were arranged on the deck, and little jack was taking sometimes one, sometimes another, to make a word--a truly great labor. now, for same moments, dingo was moving round the young child, when suddenly it stopped. its eyes became fixed, its right paw was raised, its tail wagged convulsively. then, suddenly throwing itself on one of the cubes, it seized it in its mouth and laid it on the deck a few steps from jack. this cube bore a large letter--the letter s. "dingo, well dingo!" cried the little boy, who at first was afraid that his s was swallowed by the dog. but dingo had returned, and, beginning the same performance again, it seized another cube, and went to lay it near the first. this second cube was a large v. this time jack gave a cry. at this cry, mrs. weldon, captain hull, and the young novice, who were walking on the deck, assembled. little jack then told them what had just passed. dingo knew its letters; dingo knew how to read! that was very certain, that! jack had seen it! dick sand wanted to go and take the two cubes, to restore them to his friend jack, but dingo showed him its teeth. however, the novice succeeded in gaining possession of the two cubes, and he replaced them in the set. dingo advanced again, seized again the same two letters, and carried them to a distance. this time its two paws lay on them; it seemed decided to guard them at all hazards. as to the other letters of the alphabet, it did not seem as if it had any knowledge of them. "that is a curious thing," said mrs. weldon. "it is, in fact, very singular," replied captain hull, who was looking attentively at the two letters. "s. v.," said mrs. weldon. "s. v.," repeated captain hull. "but those are precisely the letters which are on dingo's collar!" then, all at once, turning to the old black: "tom," he asked, "have you not told me that this dog only belonged to the captain of the 'waldeck' for a short time?" "in fact, sir," replied tom, "dingo was only on board two years at the most." "and have you not added that the captain of the 'waldeck' had picked up this dog on the western coast of africa?" "yes, sir, in the neighborhood of the mouth of the congo. i have often heard the captain say so." "so," asked captain hull, "it has never been known to whom this dog had belonged, nor whence it came?" "never, sir. a dog found is worse than a child! that has no papers, and, more, it cannot explain." captain hull was silent, and reflected. "do those two letters, then, awake some remembrance?" mrs. weldon asked captain hull, after leaving him to his reflections for some moments. "yes, mrs. weldon, a remembrance, or rather a coincidence at least singular." what?" "those two letters might well have a meaning, and fix for us the fate of an intrepid traveler." "what do you mean?" demanded mrs. weldon. "here is what i mean, mrs. weldon. in --consequently two years ago--a french traveler set out, under the auspices of the paris geographical society, with the intention of crossing africa from the west to the east. his point of departure was precisely the mouth of the congo. his point of arrival would be as near as possible to cape deldago, at the mouths of the rovuma, whose course he would descend. now, this french traveler was named samuel vernon." "samuel vernon!" repeated mrs. weldon. "yes, mrs. weldon; and those two names begin precisely by those two letters which dingo has chosen among all the others, and which are engraved on its collar." "exactly," replied mrs. weldon. "and that traveler----" "that traveler set out," replied captain hull, "and has not been heard of since his departure." "never?" said the novice. "never," repeated captain hull. "what do you conclude from it?" asked mrs. weldon. "that, evidently, samuel vernon has not been able to reach the eastern coast of africa, whether he may have been made prisoner by the natives, whether death may have struck him on the way." "and then this dog?" "this dog would have belonged to him; and, more fortunate than its master, if my hypothesis is true, it would have been able to return to the congo coast, because it was there, at the time when these events must have taken place, that it was picked up by the captain of the 'waldeck.'" "but," observed mrs. weldon, "do you know if this french traveler was accompanied on his departure by a dog? is it not a mere supposition on your part?" "it is only a supposition, indeed, mrs. weldon," replied captain hull. "but what is certain is, that dingo knows these two letters s and v, which are precisely the initials of the two names of the french traveler. now, under what circumstances this animal would learn to distinguish them is what i cannot explain; but, i repeat it, it very certainly knows them; and look, it pushes them with its paw, and seems to invite us to read them with it." in fact, they could not misunderstand dingo's intention. "then was samuel vernon alone when he left the sea-coast of the congo?" ask dick sand. "that i know not," replied captain hull. "however, it is probable that he would take a native escort." at that moment negoro, leaving his post, showed himself on the deck. at first no one remarked his presence, and could not observe the singular look he cast on the dog when he perceived the two letters over which the animal seem to mount guard. but dingo, having perceived the master-cook, began to show signs of the most extreme fury. negoro returned immediately to the crew's quarters, not without a menacing gesture at the dog's skill having escaped him. "there is some mystery there," murmured captain hull, who had lost none of this little scene. "but, sir," said the novice, "is it not very astonishing that a dog should know the letters of the alphabet?" "no!" cried little jack. "mama has often told me the story of a dog which knew how to read and write, and even play dominoes, like a real schoolmaster!" "my dear child," replied mrs. weldon, smiling, "that dog, whose name was munito, was not a savant, as you suppose. if i may believe what has been told me about it, munito would not have been able to distinguish the letters which served to compose the words. but its master, a clever american, having remarked what fine hearing munito had, applied himself to cultivating that sense, and to draw from it some very curious effects." "how did he set to work, mrs. weldon?" asked dick sand, whom the history interested almost as much as little jack. "in this way, my friend." when munito was 'to appear' before the public, letters similar to these were displayed on a table. on that table the poodle walked about, waiting till a word was proposed, whether in a loud voice or in a low voice. only, one essential condition was that its master should know the word." "and, in the absence of its master--" said the novice. "the dog could have done nothing," replied mrs. weldon, "and here is the reason. the letters spread out on the table, munito walked about through this alphabet. when it arrived before the letter which it should choose to form the word required, it stopped; but if it stopped it was because it heard the noise--imperceptible to all others--of a toothpick that the american snapped in his pocket. that noise was the signal for munito to take the letter and arrange it in suitable order." "and that was all the secret?" cried dick sand. "that was the whole secret," replied mrs. weldon. "it is very simple, like all that is done in the matter of prestidigitation. in case of the american's absence, munito would be no longer munito. i am, then, astonished, his master not being there--if, indeed, the traveler, samuel vernon, has ever been its master--that dingo could have recognized those two letters." "in fact," replied captain hull, "it is very astonishing. but, take notice, there are only two letters in question here, two particular letters, and not a word chosen by chance. after all, that dog which rang at the door of a convent to take possession of the plate intended for the poor passers-by, that other which commissioned at the same time with one of its kind, to turn the spit for two days each, and which refused to fill that office when its turn had not come, those two dogs, i say, advanced farther than dingo into that domain of intelligence reserved for man. besides, we are in the presence of an inscrutable fact. of all the letters of that alphabet, dingo has only chosen these two: s and v. the others it does not even seem to know. therefore we must conclude that, for a reason which escapes us, its attention has been especially drawn to those two letters." "ah! captain hull," replied the young novice, "if dingo could speak! perhaps he would tell us what those two letters signify, and why it has kept a tooth ready for our head cook." "and what a tooth!" replied captain hull, as dingo, opening its mouth, showed its formidable fangs. * * * * * chapter vi. a whale in sight. it will be remembered that this singular incident was made, more than once, the subject of conversation held in the stern of the "pilgrim" between mrs. weldon, captain hull, and the young novice. the latter, more particularly, experienced an instinctive mistrust with regard to negoro, whose conduct, meanwhile, merited no reproach. in the prow they talked of it also, but they did not draw from it the same conclusions. there, among the ship's crew, dingo passed merely for a dog that knew how to read, and perhaps even write, better than more than one sailor on board. as for talking, if he did not do it, it was probably for good reasons that he kept silent. "but, one of these fine days," says the steersman, bolton, "one fine day that dog will come and ask us how we are heading; if the wind is to the west-north-west-half-north, and we will have to answer him! there are animals that speak! well, why should not a dog do as much if he took it into his head? it is more difficult to talk with a beak than with a mouth!" "no doubt," replied the boatswain, howik. "only it has never been known." it would have astonished these brave men to tell them that, on the contrary, it had been known, and that a certain danish servant possessed a dog which pronounced distinctly twenty words. but whether this animal comprehended what he said was a mystery. very evidently this dog, whose glottis was organized in a manner to enable him to emit regular sounds, attached no more sense to his words than do the paroquets, parrots, jackdaws, and magpies to theirs. a phrase with animals is nothing more than a kind of song or spoken cry, borrowed from a strange language of which they do not know the meaning. however that might be, dingo had become the hero of the deck, of which fact he took no proud advantage. several times captain hull repeated the experiment. the wooden cubes of the alphabet were placed before dingo, and invariably, without an error, without hesitation, the two letters, s and v, were chosen from among all by the singular animal, while the others never attracted his attention. as for cousin benedict, this experiment was often renewed before him, without seeming to interest him. "meanwhile," he condescended to say one day, "we must not believe that the dogs alone have the privilege of being intelligent in this manner. other animals equal them, simply in following their instinct. look at the rats, who abandon the ship destined to founder at sea; the beavers, who know how to foresee the rising of the waters, and build their dams higher in consequence; those horses of nicomedes, of scanderberg, and of oppien, whose grief was such that they died when their masters did; those asses, so remarkable for their memory, and many other beasts which have done honor to the animal kingdom. have we not seen birds, marvelously erect, that correctly write words dictated by their professors; cockatoos that count, as well as a reckoner in the longitude office, the number of persons present in a parlor? has there not existed a parrot, worth a hundred gold crowns, that recited the apostle's creed to the cardinal, his master, without missing a word? finally, the legitimate pride of an entomologist should be raised to the highest point, when he sees simple insects give proofs of a superior intelligence, and affirm eloquently the axiom: "'in minimis maximus deus,' those ants which, represent the inspectors of public works in the largest cities, those aquatic _argyronetes_ which manufacture diving-bells, without having ever learned the mechanism; those fleas which draw carriages like veritable coachmen, which go through the exercise as well as riflemen, which fire off cannon better than the commissioned artillerymen of west point? no! this dingo does not merit so many eulogies, and if he is so strong on the alphabet, it is, without doubt, because he belongs to a species of mastiff, not yet classified in zoological science, the _canis alphabeticus_ of new zealand." in spite of these discourses and others of the envious entomologist, dingo lost nothing in the public estimation, and continued to be treated as a phenomenon in the conversations of the forecastle. all this time, it is probable that negoro did not share the enthusiasm of the ship in regard to the animal. perhaps he found it too intelligent. however, the dog always showed the same animosity against the head cook, and, doubtless, would have brought upon itself some misfortune, if it had not been, for one thing, "a dog to defend itself," and for another, protected by the sympathy of the whole crew. so negoro avoided coming into dingo's presence more than ever. but dick sand had observed that since the incident of the two letters, the reciprocal antipathy between the man and the dog was increased. that was truly inexplicable. on february th, the wind from the northeast, which, till then, had always succeeded those long and overwhelming calms, during which the "pilgrim" was stationary, began to abate perceptibly. captain hull then could hope that a change in the direction of the atmospheric currents was going to take place. perhaps the schooner would finally sail with the wind. it was still only nineteen days since her departure from the port of auckland. the delay was not yet of much account, and, with a favorable wind, the "pilgrim," well rigged, would easily make up for lost time. but several days must still elapse before the breezes would blow right from the west. this part of the pacific was always deserted. no vessel showed itself in these parts. it was a latitude truly forsaken by navigators. the whalers of the southern seas were not yet prepared to go beyond the tropic. on the "pilgrim," which peculiar circumstances had obliged to leave the fishing grounds before the end of the season, they must not expect to cross any ship bound for the same destination. as to the trans-pacific packet-boats, it has been already said that they did not follow so high a parallel in their passages between australia and the american continent. however, even if the sea is deserted, one must not give up observing it to the extreme limits of the horizon. monotonous as it may appear to heedless minds, it is none the less infinitely varied for him who knows how to comprehend it. its slightest changes charm the imagination of one who feels the poetry of the ocean. a marine herb which floats up and down on the waves, a branch of sargasso whose light track zebras, the surface of the waters, and end of a board, whose history he would wish to guess, he would need nothing more. facing this infinite, the mind is no longer stopped by anything. imagination runs riot. each of those molecules of water, that evaporation is continually changing from the sea to the sky, contains perhaps the secret of some catastrophe. so, those are to be envied, whose inner consciousness knows how to interrogate the mysteries of the ocean, those spirits who rise from its moving surface to the heights of heaven. besides, life always manifests itself above as well as below the seas. the "pilgrim's" passengers could see flights of birds excited in the pursuit of the smallest fishes, birds which, before winter, fly from the cold climate of the poles. and more than once, dick sand, a scholar of mrs. weldon's in that branch as in others, gave proofs of marvelous skill with the gun and pistol, in bringing down some of those rapid-winged creatures. there were white petrels here; there, other petrels, whose wings were embroidered with brown. sometimes, also, companies of _damiers_ passed, or some of those penquins whose gait on land is so heavy and so ridiculous. however, as captain hull remarked, these penquins, using their stumps like true fins, can challenge the most rapid fishes in swimming, to such an extent even, that sailors have often confounded them with bonitoes. higher, gigantic albatrosses beat the air with great strokes, displaying an extent of ten feet between the extremities of their wings, and then came to light on the surface of the waters, which they searched with their beaks to get their food. all these scenes made a varied spectacle, that only souls closed to the charms of nature would have found monotonous. that day mrs. weldon was walking aft on the "pilgrim," when a rather curious phenomenon attracted her attention. the waters of the sea had become reddish quite suddenly. one might have believed that they had just been stained with blood; and this inexplicable tinge extended as far as the eye could reach. dick sand. was then with little jack near mrs. weldon. "dick," she said to the young novice, "do you see that singular color of the waters of the pacific? is it due to the presence of a marine herb?" "no, mrs. weldon," replied dick sand, "that tinge is produced by myriads of little crustaceans, which generally serve to nourish the great mammifers. fishermen call that, not without reason, 'whales' food.'" "crustaceans!" said mrs. weldon. "but they are so small that we might almost call them sea insects. perhaps cousin benedict would be very much enchanted to make a collection of them." then calling: "cousin benedict!" cried she. cousin benedict appeared out of the companion-way almost at the same time as captain hull. "cousin benedict," said mrs. weldon, "see that immense reddish field which extends as far as we can see." "hold!" said captain hull. "that is whales' food. mr. benedict, a fine occasion to study this curious species of crustacea." "phew!" from the entomologist. "how--phew!" cried the captain. "but you have no right to profess such indifference. these crustaceans form one of the six classes of the articulates, if i am not mistaken, and as such----" "phew!" said cousin benedict again, shaking his lead. "for instance----i find you passably disdainful for an entomologist!" "entomologist, it may be," replied cousin benedict, "but more particularly hexapodist, captain hull, please remember." "at all events," replied captain hull, "if these crustaceans do not interest you, it can't be helped; but it would be otherwise if you possessed a whale's stomach. then what a regale! do you see, mrs. weldon, when we whalers, during the fishing season, arrive in sight of a shoal of these crustaceans, we have only time to prepare our harpoons and our lines. we are certain that the game is not distant." "is it possible that such little beasts can feed such large ones?" cried jack. "ah! my boy," replied captain hull, "little grains of vermicelli, of flour, of fecula powder, do they not make very good porridge? yes; and nature has willed that it should be so. when a whale floats in the midst of these red waters, its soup is served; it has only to open its immense mouth. myriads of crustaceans enter it. the numerous plates of those whalebones with which the animal's palate is furnished serve to strain like fishermen's nets; nothing can get out of them again, and the mass of crustaceans is ingulfed in the whale's vast stomach, as the soup of your dinner in yours." "you think right, jack," observed dick sand, "that madam whale does not lose time in picking these crustaceans one by one, as you pick shrimps." "i may add," said captain hull, "that it is just when the enormous gourmand is occupied in this way, that it is easiest to approach it without exciting its suspicion. that is the favorable moment to harpoon it with some success." at that instant, and as if to corroborate captain hull, a sailor's voice was heard from the front of the ship: "a whale to larboard!" captain hull strode up. "a whale!" cried he. and his fisherman's instinct urging him, he hastened to the "pilgrim's" forecastle. mrs. weldon, jack, dick sand, cousin benedict himself, followed him at once. in fact, four miles to windward a certain bubbling indicated that a huge marine mammifer was moving in the midst of the red waters. whalers could not be mistaken in it. but the distance was still too considerable to make it possible to recognize the species to which this mammifer belonged. these species, in fact, are quite distinct. was it one of those "right" whales, which the fishermen of the northern ocean seek most particularly? those cetaceans, which lack the dorsal fin, but whose skin covers a thick stratum of lard, may attain a length of eighty feet, though the average does not exceed sixty, and then a single one of those monsters furnishes as much as a hundred barrels of oil. was it, on the contrary, a "humpback," belonging to the species of baloenopters, a designation whose termination should at least gain it the entomologist's esteem? these possess dorsal fins, white in color, and as long as half the body, which resemble a pair of wings--something like a flying whale. had they not in view, more likely, a "finback" mammifer, as well known by the name "jubarte," which is provided with a dorsal fin, and whose length may equal that of the "right" whale? captain hull and his crew could not yet decide, but they regarded the animal with more desire than admiration. if it is true that a clockmaker cannot find himself in a room in the presence of a clock without experiencing the irresistible wish to wind it up, how much more must the whaler, before a whale, be seized with the imperative desire to take possession of it? the hunters of large game, they say, are more eager than the hunters of small game. then, the larger the animal, the more it excites covetousness. then, how should hunters of elephants and fishers of whalers feel? and then there was that disappointment, felt by all the "pilgrim's" crew, of returning with an incomplete cargo. meanwhile, captain hull tried to distinguish the animal which had been signaled in the offing. it was not very visible from that distance. nevertheless, the trained eye of a whaler could not be deceived in certain details easier to discern at a distance. in fact, the water-spout, that is, that column of vapor and water which the whale throws back by its rents, would attract captain hull's attention, and fix it on the species to which this cetacean belonged. "that is not a 'right' whale," cried he. "its water-spout would be at once higher and of a smaller volume. on the other hand, if the noise made by that spout in escaping could be compared to the distant noise of a cannon, i should be led to believe that that whale belongs to the species of 'humpbacks;' but there is nothing of the kind, and, on listening, we are assured that this noise is of quite a different nature. what is your opinion on this subject, dick?" asked captain hull, turning toward the novice. "i am ready to believe, captain," replied dick sand, "that we have to do with a jubarte. see how his rents throw that column of liquid violently into the air. does it not seem to you also--which would confirm my idea--that that spout contains more water than condensed vapor? and, if i am not mistaken, it is a special peculiarity of the jubarte." "in fact, dick," replied captain hull, "there is no longer any doubt possible! it is a jubarte which floats on the surface of these red waters." "that's fine," cried little jack. "yes, my boy! and when we think that the great beast is there, in process of breakfasting, and little suspecting that the whalers are watching it." "i would dare to affirm that it is a jubarte of great size," observed dick sand. "truly," replied captain hull, who was gradually becoming more excited. "i think it is at least seventy feet long!" "good!" added the boatswain. "half a dozen whales of that size would suffice to fill a ship as large as ours!" "yes, that would be sufficient," replied captain hull, who mounted on the bowsprit to see better. "and with this one," added the boatswain, "we should take on board in a few hours the half of the two hundred barrels of oil which we lack." "yes!--truly--yes!" murmured captain hull. "that is true," continued dick sand; "but it is sometimes a hard matter to attack those enormous jubartes!" "very hard, very hard!" returned captain hull. "those baloenopters have formidable tails, which must not be approached without distrust. the strongest pirogue would not resist a well-given blow. but, then, the profit is worth the trouble!" "bah!" said one of the sailors, "a fine jubarte is all the same a fine capture!" "and profitable!" replied another. "it would be a pity not to salute this one on the way!" it was evident that these brave sailors were growing excited in looking at the whale. it was a whole cargo of barrels of oil that was floating within reach of their hands. to hear them, without doubt there was nothing more to be done, except to stow those barrels in the "pilgrim's" hold to complete her lading. some of the sailors, mounted on the ratlines of the fore-shrouds, uttered longing cries. captain hull, who no longer spoke, was in a dilemma. there was something there, like an irresistible magnet, which attracted the "pilgrim" and all her crew. "mama, mama!" then cried little jack, "i should like to have the whale, to see how it is made." "ah! you wish to have this whale, my boy? ah! why not, my friends?" replied captain hull, finally yielding to his secret desire. "our additional fishermen are lacking, it is true, but we alone----" "yes! yes!" cried the sailors, with a single voice. "this will not be the first time that i have followed the trade of harpooner," added captain hull, "and you will see if i still know how to throw the harpoon!" "hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" responded the crew. * * * * * chapter vii. preparations. it will be understood that the sight of this prodigious mammifer was necessary to produce such excitement on board the "pilgrim." the whale, which floated in the middle of the red waters, appeared enormous. to capture it, and thus complete the cargo, that was very tempting. could fishermen let such an occasion escape them? however, mrs. weldon believed she ought to ask captain hull if it was not dangerous for his men and for him to attack a whale under those circumstances. "no, mrs. weldon," replied captain hull. "more than once it has been my lot to hunt the whale with a single boat, and i have always finished by taking possession of it. i repeat it, there is no danger for us, nor, consequently, for yourself." mrs. weldon, reassured, did not persist. captain hull at once made his preparations for capturing the jubarte. he knew by experience that the pursuit of that baloenopter was not free from difficulties, and he wished to parry all. what rendered this capture less easy was that the schooner's crew could only work by means of a single boat, while the "pilgrim" possessed a long-boat, placed on its stocks between the mainmast and the mizzen-mast, besides three whale-boats, of which two were suspended on the larboard and starboard pegs, and the third aft, outside the crown-work. generally these three whale-boats were employed simultaneously in the pursuit of cetaceans. but during the fishing season, we know, an additional crew, hired at the stations of new zealand, came to the assistance of the "pilgrim's" sailors. now, in the present circumstances, the "pilgrim" could only furnish the five sailors on board--that is, enough to arm a single whale-boat. to utilize the group of tom and his friends, who had offered themselves at once, was impossible. in fact, the working of a fishing pirogue requires very well trained seamen. a false move of the helm, or a false stroke of an oar, would be enough to compromise the safety of the whale-boat during an attack. on the other hand, captain hull did not wish to leave his ship without leaving on board at least one man from the crew, in whom he had confidence. it was necessary to provide for all eventualities. now captain hull, obliged to choose strong seamen to man the whale-boat, was forced to put on dick sand the care of guarding the "pilgrim." "dick," said he to him, "i shall charge you to remain on board during my absence, which i hope will be short." "well, sir," replied the young novice. dick sand would have wished to take part in this fishing, which had a great attraction for him, but he understood that, for one reason, a man's arms were worth more than his for service in a whale-boat, and that for another, he alone could replace captain hull. so he was satisfied. the whale-boat's crew must be composed of the five men, including the master, howik, which formed the whole crew of the "pilgrim." the four sailors were going to take their places at the oars, and howik would hold the stern oar, which serves to guide a boat of this kind. a simple rudder, in fact, would not have a prompt enough action, and in case the side oars should be disabled, the stern oar, well handled, could put the whale-boat beyond the reach of the monster's blows. there was only captain hull besides. he had reserved to himself the post of harpooner, and, as he had said, this would not be his first attempt. it was he who must first throw the harpoon, then watch the unrolling of the long line fastened at its end; then, finally finish the animal with spears, when it should return to the surface of the ocean. whalers sometimes employ firearms for this kind of fishing. by means of a special instrument, a sort of small cannon, stationed either on board the ship or at the front of the boat, they throw either a harpoon, which draws with it the rope fastened to its end, or explosive balls, which produce great ravages in the body of the animal. but the "pilgrim" was not furnished with apparatus of this kind. this was, besides, an instrument of high price, rather difficult to manage, and fishermen, but little friendly to innovations, seem to prefer the employment of primitive weapons, which they use skilfully--that is to say,--the harpoon and spear. it was then by the usual method, attacking the whale with the sword, that captain hull was going to attempt to capture the jubarte signaled five miles from his ship. besides, the weather would favor this expedition. the sea, being very calm, was propitious for the working of a whale-boat. the wind was going down, and the "pilgrim" would only drift in an insensible manner while her crew were occupied in the offing. so the starboard whale-boat was immediately lowered, and the four sailors went into it. howik passed them two of those long spears which serve as harpoons, then two long lances with sharp points. to those offensive arms he added five coils of those strong flexible ropes that the whalers call "lines," and which measure six hundred feet in length. less would not do, for it sometimes happens that these cords, fastened end to end, are not enough for the "demand," the whale plunges down so deep. such were the different weapons which were carefully disposed in the front of the boat. howik and the four sailors only waited for the order to let go the rope. a single place was vacant in the prow of the whale-boat--that which captain hull would occupy. it is needless to say that the "pilgrim's" crew, before quitting her, had brought the ship's sails aback. in other words, the yards were braced in such a manner that the sails, counteracting their action, kept the vessel almost stationary. just as he was about to embark, captain hull gave a last glance at his ship. he was sure that all was in order, the halliards well turned, the sails suitably trimmed. as he was leaving the young novice on board during an absence which might last several hours, he wished, with a good reason, that unless for some urgent cause, dick sand would not have to execute a single maneuver. at the moment of departing he gave the young man some last words of advice. "dick," said he, "i leave you alone. watch over everything. if, as is possible, it should become necessary to get the ship under way, in case we should be led too far in pursuit of this jubarte, tom and his companions could come to your aid perfectly well. after telling them clearly what they would have to do, i am assured that they would do it." "yes, captain hull," replied old tom, "and mr. dick can count on us." "command! command!" cried bat. "we have such a strong desire to make ourselves useful." "on what must we pull?" asked hercules, turning up the large sleeves of his jacket. "on nothing just now," replied dick sand, smiling. "at your service," continued the colossus. "dick," continued captain hull, "the weather is beautiful. the wind has gone down. there is no indication that it will freshen again. above all, whatever may happen, do not put a boat to sea, and do not leave the ship." "that is understood." "if it should become necessary for the 'pilgrim' to come to us, i shall make a signal to you, by hoisting a flag at the end of a boat-hook." "rest assured, captain, i shall not lose sight of the whale-boat," replied dick sand. "good, my boy," replied captain hull. "courage and coolness. behold yourself assistant captain. do honor to your grade. no one has been such at your age!" dick sand did not reply, but he blushed while smiling. captain hull understood that blush and that smile. "the honest boy!" he said to himself; "modesty and good humor, in truth, it is just like him!" meanwhile, by these urgent recommendations, it was plain that, even though there would be no danger in doing it, captain hull did not leave his ship willingly, even for a few hours. but an irresistible fisherman's instinct, above all, the strong desire to complete his cargo of oil, and not fall short of the engagements made by james w. weldon in valparaiso, all that told him to attempt the adventure. besides, that sea, so fine, was marvelously conducive to the pursuit of a cetacean. neither his crew nor he could resist such a temptation. the fishing cruise would be finally complete, and this last consideration touched captain hull's heart above everything. captain hull went toward the ladder. "i wish you success," said mrs. weldon to him. "thank you, mrs. weldon." "i beg you, do not do too much harm to the poor whale," cried little jack. "no, my boy," replied captain hull. "take it very gently, sir." "yes--with gloves, little jack." "sometimes," observed cousin benedict, "we find rather curious insects on the back of these large mammals." "well, mr. benedict," replied captain hull, laughing, "you shall have the right to 'entomologize' when our jubarte will be alongside of the 'pilgrim.'" then turning to tom: "tom, i count on your companions and you," said he, "to assist us in cutting up the whale, when it is lashed to the ship's hull--which will not be long." "at your disposal, sir," replied the old black. "good!" replied captain hull. "dick, these honest men will aid you in preparing the empty barrels. during our absence they will bring them on deck, and by this means the work will go fast on our return." "that shall be done, captain." for the benefit of those who do not know, it is necessary to say that the jubarte, once dead, must be towed as far as the "pilgrim," and firmly lashed to her starboard side. then the sailors, shod in boots, with cramp-hooks would take their places on the back of the enormous cetacean, and cut it up methodically in parallel bands marked off from the head to the tail. these bands would be then cut across in slices of a foot and a half, then divided into pieces, which, after being stowed in the barrels, would be sent to the bottom of the hold. generally the whaling ship, when the fishing is over, manages to land as soon as possible, so as to finish her manipulations. the crew lands, and then proceeds to melt the lard, which, under the action of the heat, gives up all its useful part--that is, the oil. in this operation, the whale's lard weighs about a third of its weight. but, under present circumstances, captain hull could not dream of putting back to finish that operation. he only counted on melting this quantity of lard at valparaiso. besides, with winds which could not fail to hail from the west, he hoped to make the american coast before twenty days, and that lapse of time could not compromise the results of his fishing. the moment for setting out had come. before the "pilgrim's" sails had been brought aback, she had drawn a little nearer to the place where the jubarte continued to signal its presence by jets of vapor and water. the jubarte was all this time swimming in the middle of the vast red field of crustaceans, opening its large mouth automatically, and absorbing at each draught myriads of animalcules. according to the experienced ones on board, there was no fear that the whale dreamt of escaping. it was, doubtless, what the whalers call a "fighting" whale. captain hull strode over the netting, and, descending the rope ladder, he reached the prow of the whale-boat. mrs. weldon, jack, cousin benedict, tom, and his companions, for a last time wished the captain success. dingo itself, rising on its paws and passing its head above the railing, seemed to wish to say good-by to the crew. then all returned to the prow, so as to lose none of the very attractive movements of such a fishing. the whale-boat put off, and, under the impetus of its four oars, vigorously handled, it began to distance itself from the "pilgrim." "watch well, dick, watch well!" cried captain hull to the young novice for the last time. "count on me, sir." "one eye for the ship, one eye for the whale-boat, my boy. do not forget it." "that shall be done, captain," replied dick sand, who went to take his place near the helm. already the light boat was several hundred feet from the ship. captain hull, standing at the prow, no longer able to make himself heard, renewed his injunctions by the most expressive gestures. it was then that dingo, its paws still resting on the railing, gave a sort of lamentable bark, which would have an unfavorable effect upon men somewhat given to superstition. that bark even made mrs. weldon shudder. "dingo," said she, "dingo, is that the way you encourage your friends? come, now, a fine bark, very clear, very sonorous, very joyful." but the dog barked no more, and, letting itself fall back on its paws, it came slowly to mrs. weldon, whose hand it licked affectionately. "it does not wag its tail," murmured tom in a low tone. "bad sign--bad sign." but almost at once dingo stood up, and a howl of anger escaped it. mrs. weldon turned round. negoro had just left his quarters, and was going toward the forecastle, with the intention, no doubt, of looking for himself at the movements of the whale-boat. dingo rushed at the head cook, a prey to the strongest as well as to the most inexplicable fury. negoro seized a hand-spike and took an attitude of defense. the dog was going to spring at his throat. "here, dingo, here!" cried dick sand, who, leaving his post of observation for an instant, ran to the prow of the ship. mrs. weldon on her side, sought to calm the dog. dingo obeyed, not without repugnance, and returned to the young novice, growling secretly. negoro had not pronounced a single word, but his face had grown pale for a moment. letting go of his hand-spike, he regained his cabin. "hercules," then said dick sand, "i charge you especially to watch over that man." "i shall watch," simply replied hercules, clenching his two enormous fists in sign of assent. mrs. weldon and dick sand then turned their eyes again on the whale-boat, which the four oarsmen bore rapidly away. it was nothing but a speck on the sea. * * * * * chapter viii. the jubarte. captain hull, an experienced whaler, would leave nothing to chance. the capture of a jubarte is a difficult thing. no precaution ought to be neglected. none was in this case. and, first of all, captain hull sailed so as to come up to the whale on the leeward, so that no noise might disclose the boat's approach. howik then steered the whale-boat, following the rather elongated curve of that reddish shoal, in the midst of which floated the jubarte. they would thus turn the curve. the boatswain, set over this work, was a seaman of great coolness, who inspired captain hull with every confidence. he had not to fear either hesitation or distraction from howik. "attention to the steering, howik," said captain hull. "we are going to try to surprise the jubarte. we will only show ourselves when we are near enough to harpoon it." "that is understood, sir," replied the boatswain. "i am going to follow the contour of these reddish waters, so as to keep to the leeward." "good!" said captain hull. "boys, as little noise as possible in rowing." the oars, carefully muffled with straw, worked silently. the boat, skilfully steered by the boatswain, had reached the large shoal of crustaceans. the starboard oars still sank in the green and limpid water, while those to larboard, raising the reddish liquid, seemed to rain drops of blood. "wine and water!" said one of the sailors. "yes," replied captain hull, "but water that we cannot drink, and wine that we cannot swallow. come, boys, let us not speak any more, and heave closer!" the whale-boat, steered by the boatswain, glided noiselessly on the surface of those half-greased waters, as if it were floating on a bed of oil. the jubarte did not budge, and did not seem to have yet perceived the boat, which described a circle around it. captain hull, in making the circuit, necessarily went farther than the "pilgrim," which gradually grew smaller in the distance. this rapidity with which objects diminish at sea has always an odd effect. it seems as if we look at them shortened through the large end of a telescope. this optical illusion evidently takes place because there are no points of comparison on these large spaces. it was thus with the "pilgrim," which decreased to the eye and seemed already much more distant than she really was. half an hour after leaving her, captain hull and his companions found themselves exactly to the leeward of the whale, so that the latter occupied an intermediate point between the ship and the boat. so the moment had come to approach, while making as little noise as possible. it was not impossible for them to get beside the animal and harpoon it at good range, before its attention would be attracted. "row more slowly, boys," said captain hull, in a low voice. "it seems to me," replied howik, "that the gudgeon suspects something. it breathes less violently than it did just now!" "silence! silence!" repeated captain hull. five minutes later the whale-boat was at a cable's length from the jubarte. a cable's length, a measure peculiar to the sea, comprises a length of one hundred and twenty fathoms, that is to say, two hundred meters. the boatswain, standing aft, steered in such a manner as to approach the left side of the mammal, but avoiding, with the greatest care, passing within reach of the formidable tail, a single blow of which would be enough to crush the boat. at the prow captain hull, his legs a little apart to maintain his equilibrium, held the weapon with which he was going to give the first blow. they could count on his skill to fix that harpoon in the thick mass which emerged from the waters. near the captain, in a pail, was coiled the first of the five lines, firmly fastened to the harpoon, and to which they would successively join the other four if the whale plunged to great depths. "are we ready, boys?" murmured captain hull. "yes," replied howik, grasping his oar firmly in his large hands. "alongside! alongside!" the boatswain obeyed the order, and the whale-boat came within less than ten feet of the animal. the latter no longer moved, and seemed asleep. whales thus surprised while asleep offer an easier prize, and it often happens that the first blow which is given wounds them mortally. "this immovableness is quite astonishing!" thought captain hull. "the rascal ought not to be asleep, and nevertheless----there is something there!" the boatswain thought the same, and he tried to see the opposite side of the animal. but it was not the moment to reflect, but to attack. captain hull, holding his harpoon by the middle of the handle, balanced it several times, to make sure of good aim, while he examined the jubarte's side. then he threw it with all the strength of his arm. "back, back!" cried he at once. and the sailors, pulling together, made the boat recoil rapidly, with the intention of prudently putting it in safety from the blows of the cetacean's tail. but at that moment a cry from the boatswain made them understand why the whale was so extraordinarily motionless for so long a time on the surface of the sea. "a young whale!" said he. in fact, the jubarte, after having been struck by the harpoon, was almost entirely overturned on the side, thus discovering a young whale, which she was in process of suckling. this circumstance, as captain hull well knew, would render the capture of the jubarte much more difficult. the mother was evidently going to defend herself with greater fury, as much for herself as to protect her "little one "--if, indeed, we can apply that epithet to an animal which did not measure less than twenty feet. meanwhile, the jubarte did not rush at the boat, as there was reason to fear, and there was no necessity, before taking flight, to quickly cut the line which connected the boat with the harpoon. on the contrary, and as generally happens, the whale, followed by the young one, dived, at first in a very oblique line; then rising again with an immense bound, she commenced to cleave the waters with extreme rapidity. but before she had made her first plunge, captain hull and the boatswain, both standing, had had time to see her, and consequently to estimate her at her true value. this jubarte was, in reality, a whale of the largest size. from the head to the tail, she measured at least eighty feet. her skin, of a yellowish brown, was much varied with numerous spots of a darker brown. it would indeed be a pity, after an attack so happily begun, to be under the necessity of abandoning so rich a prey. the pursuit, or rather the towing, had commenced. the whale-boat, whose oars had been raised, darted like an arrow while swinging on the tops of the waves. howik kept it steady, notwithstanding those rapid and frightful oscillations. captain hull, his eye on his prey, did not cease making his eternal refrain: "be watchful, howik, be watchful!" and they could be sure that the boatswain's vigilance would not be at fault for an instant. meanwhile, as the whale-boat did not fly nearly as fast as the whale, the line of the harpoon spun out with such rapidity that it was to be feared that it would take fire in rubbing against the edge of the whale-boat. so captain hull took care to keep it damp, by filling with water the pail at the bottom of which the line was coiled. all this time the jubarte did not seem inclined to stop her flight, nor willing to moderate it. the second line was then lashed to the end of the first, and it was not long before it was played out with the same velocity. at the end of five minutes it was necessary to join on the third line, which ran off under the water. the jubarte did not stop. the harpoon had evidently not penetrated into any vital part of the body. they could even observe, by the increased obliquity of the line, that the animal, instead of returning to the surface, was sinking into lower depths. "the devil!" cried captain hull, "but that rascal will use up our five lines!" "and lead us to a good distance from the 'pilgrim,'" replied the boatswain. "nevertheless, she must return to the surface to breathe," replied captain hull. "she is not a fish, and she must have the provision of air like a common individual." "she has held her breath to run better," said one of the sailors, laughing. in fact, the line was unrolling all the time with equal rapidity. to the third line, it was soon necessary to join the fourth, and that was not done without making the sailors somewhat anxious touching their future part of the prize. "the devil! the devil!" murmured captain hull. "i have never seen anything like that! devilish jubarte!" finally the fifth line had to be let out, and it was already half unrolled when it seemed to slacken. "good! good!" cried captain hull. "the line is less stiff. the jubarte is getting tired." at that moment, the "pilgrim" was more than five miles to the leeward of the whale-boat. captain hull, hoisting a flag at the end of a boat-hook, gave the signal to come nearer. and almost at once, he could see that dick sand, aided by tom and his companions, commenced to brace the yards in such a manner as to trim them close to the wind. but the breeze was feeble and irregular. it only came in short puffs. most certainly, the "pilgrim" would have some trouble in joining the whale-boat, if indeed she could reach it. meanwhile, as they had foreseen, the jubarte had returned to the surface of the water to breathe, with the harpoon fixed in her side all the time. she then remained almost motionless, seeming to wait for her young whale, which this furious course must have left behind. captain hull made use of the oars so as to join her again, and soon he was only a short distance from her. two oars were laid down and two sailors armed themselves, as the captain had done, with long lances, intended to strike the enemy. howik worked skilfully then, and held himself ready to make the boat turn rapidly, in case the whale should turn suddenly on it. "attention!" cried captain hull. "do not lose a blow! aim well, boys! are we ready, howik?" "i am prepared, sir," replied the boatswain, "but one thing troubles me. it is that the beast, after having fled so rapidly, is very quiet now." "in fact, howik, that seems to me suspicious. let us be careful!" "yes, but let us go forward." captain hull grew more and more animated. the boat drew still nearer. the jubarte only turned in her place. her young one was no longer near her; perhaps she was trying to find it again. suddenly she made a movement with her tail, which took her thirty feet away. was she then going to take flight again, and must they take up this interminable pursuit again on the surface of the waters? "attention!" cried captain hull. "the beast is going to take a spring and throw herself on us. steer, howik, steer!" the jubarte, in fact, had turned in such a manner as to present herself in front of the whale-boat. then, beating the sea violently with her enormous fins, she rushed forward. the boatswain, who expected this direct blow, turned in such a fashion that the jubarte passed by the boat, but without reaching it. captain hull and the two sailors gave her three vigorous thrusts on the passage, seeking to strike some vital organ. the jubarte stopped, and, throwing to a great height two columns of water mingled with blood, she turned anew on the boat, bounding, so to say, in a manner frightful to witness. these seamen must have been expert fishermen, not to lose their presence of mind on this occasion. howik again skilfully avoided the jubarte's attack, by darting the boat aside. three new blows, well aimed, again gave the animal three new wounds. but, in passing, she struck the water so roughly with her formidable tail, that an enormous wave arose, as if the sea were suddenly opened. the whale-boat almost capsized, and, the water rushing in over the side, it was half filled. "the bucket, the bucket!" cried captain hull. the two sailors, letting go their oars, began to bale out the boat rapidly, while the captain cut the line, now become useless. no! the animal, rendered furious by grief, no longer dreamt of flight. it was her turn to attack, and her agony threatened to be terrible. a third time she turned round, "head to head," a seaman would say, and threw herself anew on the boat. but the whale-boat, half full of water, could no longer move with the same facility. in this condition, how could it avoid the shock which threatened it? if it could be no longer steered, there was still less power to escape. and besides, no matter how quickly the boat might be propelled, the swift jubarte would have always overtaken it with a few bounds. it was no longer a question of attack, but of defense. captain hull understood it all. the third attack of the animal could not be entirely kept off. in passing she grazed the whale-boat with her enormous dorsal fin, but with so much force that howik was thrown down from his bench. the three lances, unfortunately affected by the oscillation, this time missed their aim. "howik! howik!" cried captain hull, who himself had been hardly able to keep his place. "present!" replied the boatswain, as he got up. but he then perceived that in his fall his stern oar had broken in the middle. "another oar!" said captain hull. "i have one," replied howik. at that moment, a bubbling took place under the waters only a few fathoms from the boat. the young whale had just reappeared. the jubarte saw it, and rushed towards it. this circumstance could only give a more terrible character to the contest. the whale was going to fight for two. captain hull looked toward the "pilgrim." his hand shook the boat-hook, which bore the flag, frantically. what could dick sand do that had not been already done at the first signal from the captain? the "pilgrim's" sails were trimmed, and the wind commenced to fill them. unhappily the schooner did not possess a helix, by which the action could be increased to sail faster. to lower one of the boats, and, with the aid of the blacks, row to the assistance of the captain, would be a considerable loss of time; besides, the novice had orders not to quit the ship, no matter what happened. however, he had the stern-boat lowered from its pegs, and towed it along, so that the captain and his companions might take refuge in it, in case of need. at that moment the jubarte, covering the young whale with her body, had returned to the charge. this time she turned in such a manner as to reach the boat exactly. "attention, howik!" cried captain hull, for the last time. but the boatswain was, so to speak, disarmed. instead of a lever, whose length gave force, he only held in his hand an oar relatively short. he tried to put about; it was impossible. the sailors knew that they were lost. all rose, giving a terrible cry, which was perhaps heard on the "pilgrim." a terrible blow from the monster's tail had just struck the whale-boat underneath. the boat, thrown into the air with irresistible violence, fell back, broken in three pieces, in the midst of waves furiously lashed by the whale's bounds. the unfortunate sailors, although grievously wounded, would have had, perhaps, the strength to keep up still, either by swimming or by hanging on to some of the floating wreck. that is what captain hull did, for he was seen for a moment hoisting the boatswain on a wreck. but the jubarte, in the last degree of fury, turned round, sprang up, perhaps in the last pangs of a terrible agony, and with her tail she beat the troubled waters frightfully, where the unfortunate sailors were still swimming. for some minutes one saw nothing but a liquid water-spout scattering itself in sheafs on all sides. a quarter of an hour after, when dick sand, who, followed by the blacks, had rushed into the boat, had reached the scene of the catastrophe, every living creature had disappeared. there was nothing left but some pieces of the whale-boat on the surface of the waters, red with blood. * * * * * chapter ix. captain sand. the first impression felt by the passengers of the "pilgrim" in presence of this terrible catastrophe was a combination of pity and horror. they only thought of this frightful death of captain hull and the five sailors. this fearful scene had just taken place almost under their eyes, while they could do nothing to save the poor men. they had not even been able to arrive in time to pick up the whale-boat's crew, their unfortunate companions, wounded, but still living, and to oppose the "pilgrim's" hull to the jubarte's formidable blows. captain hull and his men had forever disappeared. when the schooner arrived at the fatal place, mrs. weldon fell on her knees, her hands raised toward heaven. "let us pray!" said the pious woman. she was joined by her little jack, who threw himself on his knees, weeping, near his mother. the poor child understood it all. dick sand, nan, tom, and the other blacks remained standing, their heads bowed. all repeated the prayer that mrs. weldon addressed to god, recommending to his infinite goodness those who had just appeared before him. then mrs. weldon, turning to her companions, "and now, my friends," said she, "let us ask heaven for strength and courage for ourselves." yes! they could not too earnestly implore the aid of him who can do all things, for their situation was one of the gravest! this ship which carried them had no longer a captain to command her, no longer a crew to work her. she was in the middle of that immense pacific ocean, hundreds of miles from any land, at the mercy of the winds and waves. what fatality then had brought that whale in the "pilgrim's" course? what still greater fatality had urged the unfortunate captain hull, generally so wise, to risk everything in order to complete his cargo? and what a catastrophe to count among the rarest of the annals of whale-fishing was this one, which did not allow of the saving of one of the whale-boat's sailors! yes, it was a terrible fatality! in fact, there was no longer a seaman on board the "pilgrim." yes, one--dick sand--and he was only a beginner, a young man of fifteen. captain, boatswain, sailors, it may be said that the whole crew was now concentrated in him. on board there was one lady passenger, a mother and her son, whose presence would render the situation much more difficult. then there were also some blacks, honest men, courageous and zealous without a doubt, ready to obey whoever should undertake to command them, but ignorant of the simplest notions of the sailor's craft. dick sand stood motionless, his arms crossed, looking at the place where captain hull had just been swallowed up--captain hull, his protector, for whom he felt a filial affection. then his eyes searched the horizon, seeking to discover some ship, from which he would demand aid and assistance, to which he might be able at least to confide mrs. weldon. he would not abandon the "pilgrim," no, indeed, without having tried his best to bring her into port. but mrs. weldon and her little boy would be in safety. he would have had nothing more to fear for those two beings, to whom he was devoted body and soul. the ocean was deserted. since the disappearance of the jubarte, not a speck came to alter the surface. all was sky and water around the "pilgrim." the young novice knew only too well that he was beyond the routes followed by the ships of commerce, and that the other whalers were cruising still farther away at the fishing-grounds. however, the question was, to look the situation in the face, to see things as they were. that is what dick sand did, asking god, from the depths of his heart, for aid and succor. what resolution was he going to take? at that moment negoro appeared on the deck, which he had left after the catastrophe. what had been felt in the presence of this irreparable misfortune by a being so enigmatical, no one could tell. he had contemplated the disaster without making a gesture, without departing from his speechlessness. his eye had evidently seized all the details of it. but if at such a moment one could think of observing him, he would be astonished at least, because not a muscle of his impassible face had moved. at any rate, and as if he had not heard it, he had not responded to the pious appeal of mrs. weldon, praying for the engulfed crew. negoro walked aft, there even where dick sand was standing motionless. he stopped three steps from the novice. "you wish to speak to me?" asked dick sand. "i wish to speak to captain hull," replied negoro, coolly, "or, in his absence, to boatswain howik." "you know well that both have perished!" cried the novice. "then who commands on board now?" asked negoro, very insolently. "i," replied dick sand, without hesitation. "you!" said negoro, shrugging his shoulders. "a captain of fifteen years?" "a captain of fifteen years!" replied the novice, advancing toward the cook. the latter drew back. "do not forget it," then said mrs. weldon. "there is but one captain here--captain sand, and it is well for all to remember that he will know how to make himself obeyed." negoro bowed, murmuring in an ironical tone a few words that they could not understand, and he returned to his post. we see, dick's resolution was taken. meanwhile the schooner, under the action of the breeze, which commenced to freshen, had already passed beyond the vast shoal of crustaceans. dick sand examined the condition of the sails; then his eyes were cast on the deck. he had then this sentiment, that, if a frightful responsibility fell upon him in the future, it was for him to have the strength to accept it. he dared to look at the survivors of the "pilgrim," whose eyes were now fixed on him. and, reading in their faces that he could count on them, he said to them in two words, that they could in their turn count on him. dick sand had, in all sincerity, examined his conscience. if he was capable of taking in or setting the sails of the schooner, according to circumstances, by employing the arms of tom and his companions, he evidently did not yet possess all the knowledge necessary to determine his position by calculation. in four or five years more, dick sand would know thoroughly that beautiful and difficult sailor's craft. he would know how to use the sextant--that instrument which captain hull's hand had held every day, and which gave him the height of the stars. he would read on the chronometer the hour of the meridian of greenwich, and from it would be able to deduce the longitude by the hour angle. the sun would be made his counselor each day. the moon--the planets would say to him, "there, on that point of the ocean, is thy ship!" that firmament, on which the stars move like the hands of a perfect clock, which nothing shakes nor can derange, and whose accuracy is absolute--that firmament would tell him the hours and the distances. by astronomical observations he would know, as his captain had known every day, nearly to a mile, the place occupied by the "pilgrim," and the course followed as well as the course to follow. and now, by reckoning, that is by the progress measured on the log, pointed out by the compass, and corrected by the drift, he must alone ask his way. however, he did not falter. mrs. weldon understood all that was passing in the young novice's resolute heart. "thank you, dick," she said to him, in a voice which did not tremble. "captain hull is no more. all his crew have perished with him. the fate of the ship is in your hands! dick, you will save the ship and those on board!" "yes, mrs. weldon," replied dick sand, "yes! i shall attempt it, with the aid of god!" "tom and his companions are honest men on whom you can depend entirely." "i know it, and i shall make sailors of them, and we shall work together. with fine weather that will be easy. with bad weather--well, with bad weather, we shall strive, and we shall save you yet, mrs. weldon--you and your little jack, both! yes, i feel that i shall do it." and he repeated: "with the aid of god!" "now, dick, can you tell where the 'pilgrim' is?" asked mrs. weldon. "easily," replied the novice. "i have only to consult the chart on board, on which her position was marked yesterday by captain hull." "and will you be able to put the ship in the right direction?" "yes, i shall be able to put her prow to the east, nearly at the point of the american coast that we must reach." "but, dick," returned mrs. weldon, "you well understand, do you not, that this catastrophe may, and indeed must, modify our first projects? it is no longer a question of taking the 'pilgrim' to valparaiso. the nearest port of the american coast is now her port of destination." "certainly, mrs. weldon," replied the novice. "so fear nothing! we cannot fail to reach that american coast which stretches so far to the south." "where is it situated?" asked mrs. weldon. "there, in that direction," replied dick sand, pointing to the east, which he knew by means of the compass. "well, dick, we may reach valparaiso, or any other part of the coast. what matter? what we want is to land." "and we shall do it, mrs. weldon, and i shall land you on a good place," replied the young man, in a firm voice. "besides, in standing in for the land, i do not renounce the hope of encountering some of those vessels which do the coasting trade on that shore. ah! mrs. weldon, the wind begins to blow steadily from the northwest! god grant that it may keep on; we shall make progress, and good progress. we shall drive in the offing with all our sails set, from the brigantine to the flying-jib!" dick sand had spoken with the confidence of the seaman, who feels that he stands on a good ship, a ship of whose every movement he is master. he was going to take the helm and call his companions to set the sails properly, when mrs. weldon reminded him that he ought first to know the "pilgrim's" position. it was, indeed, the first thing to do. dick sand went into the captain's cabin for the chart on which the position of the day before was indicated. he could then show mrs. weldon that the schooner was in latitude ° ', and in longitude ° ', for, in the last twenty-four hours, she had not, so to say, made any progress. mrs. weldon leaned over this chart. she looked at the brown color which represented the land on the right of the ocean. it was the coast of south america, an immense barrier thrown between the pacific and the atlantic from cape horn to the shores of columbia. to consider it in that way, that chart, which, was then spread out under her eyes, on which was drawn a whole ocean, gave the impression that it would be easy to restore the "pilgrim's" passengers to their country. it is an illusion which is invariably produced on one who is not familiar with the scale on which marine charts are drawn. and, in fact, it seemed to mrs. weldon that the land ought to be in sight, as it was on that piece of paper! and, meanwhile, on that white page, the "pilgrim" drawn on an exact scale, would be smaller than the most microscopic of infusoria! that mathematical point, without appreciable dimensions, would appear lost, as it was in reality in the immensity of the pacific! dick sand himself had not experienced the same impression as mrs. weldon. he knew how far off the land was, and that many hundreds of miles would not suffice to measure the distance from it. but he had taken his part; he had become a man under the responsibility which had fallen upon him. the moment to act had come. he must profit by this northwest breeze which was blowing up. contrary winds had given place to favorable winds, and some clouds scattered in the zenith under the cirrous form, indicated that they would blow steadily for at least a certain time. dick called tom and his companions. "my friends," he said to them, "our ship has no longer any crew but you. i cannot work without your aid. you are not sailors, but you have good arms. place them, then, at the 'pilgrim's' service and we can steer her. every one's salvation depends on the good work of every one on board." "mr. dick," replied tom, "my companions and i, we are your sailors. our good will shall not be wanting. all that men can do, commanded by you, we shall do it." "well spoken, old tom," said mrs. weldon. "yes, well spoken," continued dick sand; "but we must be prudent, and i shall not carry too much canvas, so as not to run any risk. circumstances require a little less speed, but more security. i will show you, my friends, what each will have to do in the work. as to me, i shall remain at the helm, as long as fatigue does not oblige me to leave it. from time to time a few hours' sleep will be sufficient to restore me. but, during those few hours, it will be very necessary for one of you to take my place. tom, i shall show you how we steer by means of the mariner's compass. it is not difficult, and, with a little attention, you will soon learn to keep the ship's head in the right direction." "whenever you like, mr. dick," replied the old black. "well," replied the novice, "stay near me at the helm till the end of the day, and if fatigue overcomes me, you will then be able to replace me for a few hours." "and i," said little jack, "will i not be able to help my friend, dick, a little?" "yes, dear child," replied mrs. weldon, clasping jack in her arms, "you shall learn to steer, and i am sure that while you are at the helm we shall have good winds." "very sure--very sure. mother, i promise it to you," replied the little boy, clapping his hands. "yes," said the young novice, smiling, "good cabin-boys know how to maintain good winds. that is well known by old sailors." then, addressing tom, and the other blacks: "my friends," he said to them, "we are going to put the 'pilgrim' under full sail. you will only have to do what i shall tell you." "at your orders," replied tom, "at your orders, captain sand." * * * * * chapter x. the four days which follow. dick sand was then captain of the "pilgrim," and, without losing an instant, he took the necessary measures for putting the ship under full sail. it was well understood that the passengers could have only one hope--that of reaching some part of the american coast, if not valparaiso. what dick sand counted on doing was to ascertain the direction and speed of the "pilgrim," so as to get an average. for that, it was sufficient to make each day on the chart the way made, as it has been said, by the log and the compass. there was then on board one of those "patent logs," with an index and helix, which give the speed very exactly for a fixed time. this useful instrument, very easily handled, could render the most useful services, and the blacks were perfectly adapted to work it. a single cause of error would interfere--the currents. to combat it, reckoning would be insufficient; astronomical observations alone would enable one to render an exact calculation from it. now, those observations the young novice was still unable to make. for an instant dick sand had thought of bringing the "pilgrim" back to new zealand. the passage would be shorter, and he would certainly have done it if the wind, which, till then, had been contrary, had not become favorable. better worth while then to steer for america. in fact, the wind had changed almost to the contrary direction, and now it blew from the northwest with a tendency to freshen. it was then necessary to profit by it and make all the headway possible. so dick sand prepared to put the "pilgrim" under full sail. in a schooner brig-rigged, the foremast carries four square sails; the foresail, on the lower mast; above, the top-sail, on the topmast; then, on the top-gallant mast, a top-sail and a royal. the mainmast, on the contrary, has fewer sails. it only carries a brigantine below, and a fore-staffsail above. between these two masts, on the stays which support them at the prow, a triple row of triangular sails may be set. finally, at the prow, on the bowsprit, and its extreme end, were hauled the three jibs. the jibs, the brigantine, the fore-staff, and the stay-sails are easily managed. they can be hoisted from the deck without the necessity of climbing the masts, because they are not fastened on the yards by means of rope-bands, which must be previously loosened. on the contrary, the working of the foremast sails demands much greater proficiency in seamanship. in fact, when it is necessary to set them, the sailors must climb by the rigging--it may be in the foretop, it may be on the spars of the top-gallant mast, it may be to the top of the said mast--and that, as well in letting them fly as in drawing them in to diminish their surface in reefing them. thence the necessity of running out on foot-ropes--movable ropes stretched below the yards--of working with one hand while holding on by the other--perilous work for any one who is not used to it. the oscillation from the rolling and pitching of the ship, very much increased by the length of the lever, the flapping of the sails under a stiff breeze, have often sent a man overboard. it was then a truly dangerous operation for tom and his companions. very fortunately, the wind was moderate. the sea had not yet had time to become rough. the rolling and pitching kept within bounds. when dick sand, at captain hull's signal, had steered toward the scene of the catastrophe, the "pilgrim" only carried her jibs, her brigantine, her foresail, and her top-sail. to get the ship under way as quickly as possible, the novice had only to make use of, that is, to counter-brace, the foresail. the blacks had easily helped him in that maneuver. the question now was to get under full sail, and, to complete the sails, to hoist the top-sails, the royal, the fore-staff, and the stay-sails. "my friends," said the novice to the five blacks, "do as i tell you, and all will go right." dick sand was standing at the wheel of the helm. "go!" cried he. "tom, let go that rope quickly!" "let go?" said tom, who did not understand that expression. "yes, loosen it! now you, bat--the same thing! good! heave--haul taut. let us see, pull it in!" "like that?" said bat. "yes, like that. very good. come, hercules--strong. a good pull there!" to say "strong" to hercules was, perhaps, imprudent. the giant of course gave a pull that brought down the rope. "oh! not so strong, my honest fellow!" cried dick sand, smiling. "you are going to bring down the masts!" "i have hardly pulled," replied hercules. "well, only make believe! you will see that that will be enough! well, slacken--cast off! make fast--make fast--like that! good! all together! heave--pull on the braces." and the whole breadth of the foremast, whose larboard braces had been loosened, turned slowly. the wind then swelling the sails imparted a certain speed to the ship. dick sand then had the jib sheet-ropes loosened. then he called the blacks aft: "behold what is done, my friends, and well done. now let us attend to the mainmast. but break nothing, hercules." "i shall try," replied the colossus, without being willing to promise more. this second operation was quite easy. the main-boom sheet-rope having been let go gently, the brigantine took the wind more regularly, and added its powerful action to that of the forward sails. the fore-staff was then set above the brigantine, and, as it is simply brailed up, there was nothing to do but bear on the rope, to haul aboard, then to secure it. but hercules pulled so hard, along with his friend acteon, without counting little jack, who had joined them, that the rope broke off. all three fell backwards--happily, without hurting themselves. jack was enchanted. "that's nothing! that's nothing!" cried the novice. "fasten the two ends together for this time and hoist softly!" that was done under dick sand's eyes, while he had not yet left the helm. the "pilgrim" was already sailing rapidly, headed to the east, and there was nothing more to be done but keep it in that direction. nothing easier, because the wind was favorable, and lurches were not to be feared. "good, my friends!" said the novice. "you will be good sailors before the end of the voyage!" "we shall do our best, captain sand," replied tom. mrs. weldon also complimented those honest men. little jack himself received his share of praise, for he had worked bravely. "indeed, i believe, mr. jack," said hercules, smiling, "that it was you who broke the rope. what a good little fist you have. without you we should have done nothing right." and little jack, very proud of himself, shook his friend hercules' hand vigorously. the setting of the "pilgrim's" sails was not yet complete. she still lacked those top-sails whose action is not to be despised under this full-sail movement. top-sail, royal, stay-sails, would add sensibly to the schooner's speed, and dick sand resolved to set them. this operation would be more difficult than the others, not for the stay-sails, which could be hoisted, hauled aboard and fastened from below, but for the cross-jacks of the foremast. it was necessary to climb to the spars to let them out, and dick sand, not wishing to expose any one of his improvised crew, undertook to do it himself. he then called tom and put him at the wheel, showing him how he should keep the ship. then hercules, bat, acteon and austin being placed, some at the royal halyards, others at those of the top-sails, he proceeded up the mast. to climb the rattlings of the fore-shrouds, then the rattlings of the topmast-shrouds, to gain the spars, that was only play for the young novice. in a minute he was on the foot-rope of the top-sail yard, and he let go the rope-bands which kept the sail bound. then he stood on the spars again and climbed on the royal yard, where he let out the sail rapidly. dick sand had finished his task, and seizing one of the starboard backstays, he slid to the deck. there, under his directions, the two sails were vigorously hauled and fastened, then the two yards hoisted to the block. the stay-sails being set next between the mainmast and the foremast, the work was finished. hercules had broken nothing this time. the "pilgrim" then carried all the sails that composed her rigging. doubtless dick sand could still add the foremast studding-sails to larboard, but it was difficult work under the present circumstances, and should it be necessary to take them in, in case of a squall, it could not be done fast enough. so the novice stopped there. tom was relieved from his post at the wheel, which dick sand took charge of again. the breeze freshened. the "pilgrim," making a slight turn to starboard, glided rapidly over the surface of the sea, leaving behind her a very flat track, which bore witness to the purity of her water-line. "we are well under way, mrs. weldon," then said dick sand, "and, now, may god preserve this favorable wind!" mrs. weldon pressed the young man's hand. then, fatigued with all the emotions of that last hour, she sought her cabin, and fell into a sort of painful drowsiness, which was not sleep. the new crew remained on the schooner's deck, watching on the forecastle, and ready to obey dick sand's orders--that is to say, to change the set of the sails according to the variations of the wind; but so long as the breeze kept both that force and that direction, there would be positively nothing to do. during all this time what had become of cousin benedict? cousin benedict was occupied in studying with a magnifying glass an articulate which he had at last found on board--a simple orthopter, whose head disappeared under the prothorax; an insect with flat elytrums, with round abdomen, with rather long wings, which belonged to the family of the roaches, and to the species of american cockroaches. it was exactly while ferreting in negoro's kitchen, that he had made that precious discovery, and at the moment when the cook was going to crush the said insect pitilessly. thence anger, which, indeed, negoro took no notice of. but this cousin benedict, did he know what change had taken place on board since the moment when captain hull and his companions had commenced that fatal whale-fishing? yes, certainly. he was even on the deck when the "pilgrim" arrived in sight of the remains of the whale-boat. the schooner's crew had then perished before his eyes. to pretend that this catastrophe had not affected him, would be to accuse his heart. that pity for others that all people feel, he had certainly experienced it. he was equally moved by his cousin's situation. he had come to press mrs. weldon's hand, as if to say to her: "do not be afraid. i am here. i am left to you." then cousin benedict had turned toward his cabin, doubtless so as to reflect on the consequences of this disastrous event, and on the energetic measures that he must take. but on his way he had met the cockroach in question, and his desire was--held, however, against certain entomologists--to prove the cockroaches of the phoraspe species, remarkable for their colors, have very different habits from cockroaches properly so called; he had given himself up to the study, forgetting both that there had been a captain hull in command of the "pilgrim," and that that unfortunate had just perished with his crew. the cockroach absorbed him entirely. he did not admire it less, and he made as much time over it as if that horrible insect had been a golden beetle. the life on board had then returned to its usual course, though every one would remain for a long time yet under the effects of such a keen and unforeseen catastrophe. during this day dick sand was everywhere, so that everything should be in its place, and that he could be prepared for the smallest contingency. the blacks obeyed him with zeal. the most perfect order reigned on board the "pilgrim." it might then be hoped that all would go well. on his side, negoro made no other attempt to resist dick sand's authority. he appeared to have tacitly recognized him. occupied as usual in his narrow kitchen, he was not seen more than before. besides, at the least infraction--at the first symptom of insubordination, dick sand was determined to send him to the hold for the rest of the passage. at a sign from him, hercules would take the head cook by the skin of the neck; that would not have taken long. in that case, nan, who knew how to cook, would replace the cook in his functions. negoro then could say to himself that he was indispensable, and, as he was closely watched, he seemed unwilling to give any cause of complaint. the wind, though growing stronger till evening, did not necessitate any change in the "pilgrim's" sails. her solid masting, her iron rigging, which was in good condition, would enable her to bear in this condition even a stronger breeze. during the night it is often the custom to lessen the sails, and particularly to take in the high sails, fore-staff, top-sail, royal, etc. that is prudent, in case some squall of wind should come up suddenly. but dick sand believed he could dispense with this precaution. the state of the atmosphere indicated nothing of the kind, and besides, the young novice determined to pass the first night on the deck, intending to have an eye to everything. then the progress was more rapid, and he longed to be in less desolate parts. it has been said that the log and the compass were the only instruments which dick sand could use, so as to estimate approximately the way made by the "pilgrim." during this day the novice threw the log every half-hour, and he noted the indications furnished by the instrument. as to the instrument which bears the name of compass, there were two on board. one was placed in the binnacle, under the eyes of the man at the helm. its dial, lighted by day by the diurnal light, by night by two side-lamps, indicated at every moment which way the ship headed--that is, the direction she followed. the other compass was an inverted one, fixed to the bars of the cabin which captain hull formerly occupied. by that means, without leaving his chamber, he could always know if the route given was exactly followed, if the man at the helm, from ignorance or negligence, allowed the ship to make too great lurches. besides, there is no ship employed in long voyages which does not possess at least two compasses, as she has two chronometers. it is necessary to compare these instruments with each other, and, consequently, control their indications. the "pilgrim" was then sufficiently provided for in that respect, and dick sand charged his men to take the greatest care of the two compasses, which were so necessary to him. now, unfortunately, during the night of the th to the th of february, while the novice was on watch, and holding the wheel of the helm, a sad accident took place. the inverted compass, which was fastened by a copper ferule to the woodwork of the cabin, broke off and fell on the floor. it was not seen till the next day. how had the ferule come to break. it was inexplicable enough. it was possible, however, that it was oxydized, and that the pitching and rolling had broken it from the woodwork. now, indeed, the sea had been rougher during the night. however it was, the compass was broken in such a manner that it could not be repaired. dick sand was much thwarted. henceforth he was reduced to trust solely to the compass in the binnacle. very evidently no one was responsible for the breaking of the second compass, but it might have sad consequences. the novice then took every precaution to keep the other compass beyond the reach of every accident. till then, with that exception, all went well on board the "pilgrim." mrs. weldon, seeing dick sand's calmness, had regained confidence. it was not that she had ever yielded to despair. above all, she counted on the goodness of god. also, as a sincere and pious catholic, she comforted herself by prayer. dick sand had arranged so as to remain at the helm during the night. he slept five or six hours in the day, and that seemed enough for him, as he did not feel too much fatigued. during this time tom or his son bat took his place at the wheel of the helm, and, thanks to his counsels, they were gradually becoming passable steersmen. often mrs. weldon and the novice talked to each other. dick sand willingly took advice from this intelligent and courageous woman. each day he showed her on the ship's chart the course run, which he took by reckoning, taking into account only the direction and the speed of the ship. "see, mrs. weldon," he often repeated to her, "with these winds blowing, we cannot fail to reach the coast of south america. i should not like to affirm it, but i verily believe that when our vessel shall arrive in sight of land, it will not be far from valparaiso." mrs. weldon could not doubt the direction of the vessel was right, favored above all by those winds from the northwest. but how far the "pilgrim" still seemed to be from the american coast! how many dangers between her and the firm land, only counting those which might come from a change in the state of the sea and the sky! jack, indifferent like children of his age, had returned to his usual games, running on the deck, amusing himself with dingo. he found, of course, that his friend dick was less with him than formerly; but his mother had made him understand that they must leave the young novice entirely to his occupations. little jack had given up to these reasons, and no longer disturbed "captain sand." so passed life on board. the blacks did their work intelligently, and each day became more skilful in the sailor's craft. tom was naturally the boatswain, and it was he, indeed, whom his companions would have chosen for that office. he commanded the watch while the novice rested, and he had with him his son bat and austin. acteon and hercules formed the other watch, under dick sand's direction. by this means, while one steered, the others watched at the prow. even though these parts were deserted, and no collision was really to be feared, the novice exacted a rigorous watch during the night. he never sailed without having his lights in position--a green light on the starboard, a red light on the larboard--and in that he acted wisely. all the time, during those nights which dick sand passed entirely at the helm, he occasionally felt an irresistible heaviness over him. his hand then steered by pure instinct. it was the effect of a fatigue of which he did not wish to take account. now, it happened that during the night of the th to the th of february, that dick sand was very tired, and was obliged to take a few hours' rest. he was replaced at the helm by old tom. the sky was covered with thick clouds, which had gathered with the evening, under the influence of the cold air. it was then very dark, and it was impossible to distinguish the high sails lost in the darkness. hercules and acteon were on watch on the forecastle. aft, the light from the binnacle only gave a faint gleam, which the metallic apparatus of the wheel reflected softly. the ship's lanterns throwing their lights laterally, left the deck of the vessel in profound darkness. toward three o'clock in the morning, a kind of hypnotic phenomenon took place, of which old tom was not even conscious. his eves, which were fixed too long on a luminous point of the binnacle, suddenly lost the power of vision, and he fell into a true anæsthetic sleep. not only was he incapable of seeing, but if one had touched or pinched him hard he would probably have felt nothing. so he did not see a shadow which glided over the deck. it was negoro. arrived aft, the head cook placed under the binnacle a pretty heavy object which he held in hand. then, after observing for an instant the luminous index of the compass, he retired without having been seen. if, the next day, dick sand had perceived that object placed by negoro under the binnacle, he might have hastened to take it away. in fact, it was a piece of iron, whose influence had just altered the indications of the compass. the magnetic needle had been deviated, and instead of marking the magnetic north, which differs a little from the north of the world, it marked the northeast. it was then, a deviation of four points; in other words, of half a right angle. tom soon recovered from his drowsiness. his eyes were fixed on the compass. he believed, he had reason to believe, that the "pilgrim" was not in the right direction. he then moved the helm so as to head the ship to the east--at least, he thought so. but, with the deviation of the needle, which he could not suspect, that point, changed by four points, was the southeast. and thus, while under the action of a favorable wind, the "pilgrim" was supposed to follow the direction wished for, she sailed with an error of forty-five degrees in her route! chapter xi. tempest. during the week which followed that event, from the th of february to the st, no incident took place on board. the wind from the northwest freshened gradually, and the "pilgrim" sailed rapidly, making on an average one hundred and sixty miles in twenty-four hours. it was nearly all that could be asked of a vessel of that size. dick sand thought the schooner must be approaching those parts more frequented by the merchant vessels which seek to pass from one hemisphere to the other. the novice was always hoping to encounter one of those ships, and he clearly intended either to transfer his passengers, or to borrow some additional sailors, and perhaps an officer. but, though he watched vigilantly, no ship could be signaled, and the sea was always deserted. dick sand continued to be somewhat astonished at that. he had crossed this part of the pacific several times during his three fishing voyages to the southern seas. now, in the latitude and longitude where his reckoning put him, it was seldom that some english or american ship did not appear, ascending from cape horn toward the equator, or coming toward the extreme point of south america. but what dick sand was ignorant of, what he could not even discover, was that the "pilgrim" was already in higher latitude--that is to say, more to the south than he supposed. that was so for two reasons: the first was, that the currents of these parts, whose swiftness the novice could only imperfectly estimate, had contributed--while he could not possibly keep account of them--to throw the ship out of her route. the second was, that the compass, made inaccurate by negoro's guilty hand, henceforth only gave incorrect bearings--bearings that, since the loss of the second compass, dick sand could not control. so that, believing, and having reason to believe, that he was sailing eastward, in reality, he was sailing southeast. the compass, it was always before his eyes. the log, it was thrown regularly. his two instruments permitted him, in a certain measure, to direct the "pilgrim," and to estimate the number of miles sailed. but, then, was that sufficient? however, the novice always did his best to reassure mrs. weldon, whom the incidents of this voyage must at times render anxious. "we shall arrive, we shall arrive!" he repeated. "we shall reach the american coast, here or there; it matters little, on the whole, but we cannot fail to land there!" "i do not doubt it, dick." "of course, mrs. weldon, i should be more at ease if you were not on board--if we had only ourselves to answer for; but----" "but if i were not on board," replied mrs. weldon; "if cousin benedict, jack, nan and i, had not taken passage on the 'pilgrim,' and if, on the other hand, tom and his companions had not been picked up at sea, dick, there would be only two men here, you and negoro! what would have become of you, alone with that wicked man, in whom you cannot have confidence? yes, my child, what would have become of you?" "i should have begun," replied dick sand, resolutely, "by putting negoro where he could not injure me." "and you would have worked alone?" "yes--alone--with the aid of god!" the firmness of these words was well calculated to encourage mrs. weldon. but, nevertheless, while thinking of her little jack, she often felt uneasy. if the woman would not show what she experienced as a mother, she did not always succeed in preventing some secret anguish for him to rend her heart. meanwhile, if the young novice was not sufficiently advanced in his hydrographic studies to make his point, he possessed a true sailor's scent, when the question was "to tell the weather." the appearance of the sky, for one thing; on the other hand, the indications of the barometer, enabled him to be on his guard. captain hull, a good meteorologist, had taught him to consult this instrument, whose prognostications are remarkably sure. here is, in a few words, what the notices relative to the observation of the barometer contain: . when, after a rather long continuance of fine weather, the barometer begins to fall in a sudden and continuous manner, rain will certainly fall; but, if the fine weather has had a long duration, the mercury may fall two or three days in the tube of the barometer before any change in the state of the atmosphere may be perceived. then, the longer the time between the falling of the mercury and the arrival of the rain, the longer will be the duration of rainy weather. . if, on the contrary, during a rainy period which has already had a long duration, the barometer commences to rise slowly and regularly, very certainly fine weather will come, and it will last much longer if a long interval elapses between its arrival and the rising of the barometer. . in the two cases given, if the change of weather follows immediately the movement of the barometrical column, that change will last only a very short time. . if the barometer rises with slowness and in a continuous manner for two or three days, or even more, it announces fine weather, even when the rain will not cease during those three days, and _vice versa;_ but if the barometer rises two days or more during the rain, then, the fine weather having come, if it commences to fall again, the fine weather will last a very short time, and _vice versa_. . in the spring and in the autumn, a sudden fall of the barometer presages wind. in the summer, if the weather is very warm, it announces a storm. in winter, after a frost of some duration, a rapid falling of the barometrical column announces a change of wind, accompanied by a thaw and rain; but a rising which happens during a frost which has already lasted a certain time, prognosticates snow. . rapid oscillations of the barometer should never be interpreted as presaging dry or rainy weather of any duration. those indications are given exclusively by the rising or the falling which takes place in a slow and continuous manner. . toward the end of autumn, if after prolonged rainy and windy weather, the barometer begins to rise, that rising announces the passage of the wind to the north and the approach of the frost. such are the general consequences to draw from the indications of this precious instrument. dick sand knew all that perfectly well, as he had ascertained for himself in different circumstances of his sailor's life, which made him very skilful in putting himself on his guard against all contingencies. now, just toward the th of february, the oscillations of the barometrical column began to preoccupy the young novice, who noted them several times a day with much care. in fact, the barometer began to fall in a slow and continuous manner, which presages rain; but, this rain being delayed, dick sand concluded from that, that the bad weather would last. that is what must happen. but the rain was the wind, and in fact, at that date, the breeze freshened so much that the air was displaced with a velocity of sixty feet a second, say thirty-one miles an hour. dick sand was obliged to take some precautions so as not to risk the "pilgrim's" masting and sails. already he had the royal, the fore-staff, and the flying-jib taken in, and he resolved to do the same with the top-sail, then take in two reefs in the top-sail. this last operation must present certain difficulties with a crew of little experience. hesitation would not do, however, and no one hesitated. dick sand, accompanied by bat and austin, climbed into the rigging of the foremast, and succeeded, not without trouble, in taking in the top-sail. in less threatening weather he would have left the two yards on the mast, but, foreseeing that he would probably be obliged to level that mast, and perhaps even to lay it down upon the deck, he unrigged the two yards and sent them to the deck. in fact, it is understood that when the wind becomes too strong, not only must the sails be diminished, but also the masting. that is a great relief to the ship, which, carrying less weight above, is no longer so much strained with the rolling and pitching. this first work accomplished--and it took two hours--dick sand and his companions were busy reducing the surface of the top-sail, by taking in two reefs. the "pilgrim" did not carry, like the majority of modern ships, a double top-sail, which facilitates the operation. it was necessary, then, to work as formerly--that is to say, to run out on the foot-ropes, pull toward you a sail beaten by the wind, and lash it firmly with its reef-lines. it was difficult, long, perilous; but, finally, the diminished top-sail gave less surface to the wind, and the schooner was much relieved. dick sand came down again with bat and austin. the "pilgrim" was then in the sailing condition demanded by that state of the atmosphere which has been qualified as "very stiff." during the three days which followed, th, st and d of february, the force and direction of the wind were not perceptibly changed. all the time the mercury continued to fall in the barometrical tube, and, on this last day, the novice noted that it kept continually below twenty-eight and seven-tenths inches. besides, there was no appearance that the barometer would rise for some time. the aspect of the sky was bad, and extremely windy. besides, thick fogs covered it constantly. their stratum was even so deep that the sun was no longer seen, and it would have been difficult to indicate precisely the place of his setting and rising. dick sand began to be anxious. he no longer left the deck; he hardly slept. however, his moral energy enabled him to drive back his fears to the bottom of his heart. the next day, february d, the breeze appeared to decrease a little in the morning, but dick sand did not trust in it. he was right, for in the afternoon the wind freshened again, and the sea became rougher. toward four o'clock, negoro, who was rarely seen, left his post and came up on the forecastle. dingo, doubtless, was sleeping in some corner, for it did not bark as usual. negoro, always silent, remained for half an hour observing the horizon. long surges succeeded each other without, as yet, being dashed together. however, they were higher than the force of the wind accounted for. one must conclude from that, that there was very bad weather in the west, perhaps at a rather short distance, and that it would not be long in reaching these parts. negoro watched that vast extent of sea, which was greatly troubled, around the "pilgrim." then his eyes, always cold and dry, turned toward the sky. the aspect of the sky was disturbing. the vapors moved with very different velocities. the clouds of the upper zone traveled more rapidly than those of the low strata of the atmosphere. the case then must be foreseen, in which those heavy masses would fall, and might change into a tempest, perhaps a hurricane, what was yet only a very stiff breeze--that is to say, a displacement of the air at the rate of forty-three miles an hour. whether negoro was not a man to be frightened, or whether he understood nothing of the threats of the weather, he did not appear to be affected. however, an evil smile glided over his lips. one would say, at the end of his observations, that this state of things was rather calculated to please him than to displease him. one moment he mounted on the bowsprit and crawled as far as the ropes, so as to extend his range of vision, as if he were seeking some indication on the horizon. then he descended again, and tranquilly, without having pronounced a single word, without having made a gesture, he regained the crew's quarters. meanwhile, in the midst of all these fearful conjunctions, there remained one happy circumstance which each one on board ought to remember; it was that this wind, violent as it was or might become, was favorable, and that the "pilgrim" seemed to be rapidly making the american coast. if, indeed, the weather did not turn to tempest, this navigation would continue to be accomplished without great danger, and the veritable perils would only spring up when the question would be to land on some badly ascertained point of the coast. that was indeed what dick sand was already asking himself. when he should once make the land, how should he act, if he did not encounter some pilot, some one who knew the coast? in case the bad weather should oblige him to seek a port of refuge, what should he do, because that coast was to him absolutely unknown? indeed, he had not yet to trouble himself with that contingency. however, when the hour should come, he would be obliged to adopt some plan. well, dick sand adopted one. during the thirteen days which elapsed, from the th of february to the th of march, the state of the atmosphere did not change in any perceptible manner. the sky was always loaded with heavy fogs. for a few hours the wind went down, then it began to blow again with the same force. two or three times the barometer rose again, but its oscillation, comprising a dozen lines, was too sudden to announce a change of weather and a return of more manageable winds. besides the barometrical column fell again almost immediately, and nothing could inspire any hope of the end of that bad weather within a short period. terrible storms burst forth also, which very seriously disturbed dick sand. two or three times the lightning struck the waves only a few cable-lengths from the ship. then the rain fell in torrents, and made those whirlpools of half condensed vapors, which surrounded the "pilgrim" with a thick mist. for entire hours the man at the lookout saw nothing, and the ship sailed at random. even though the ship, although resting firmly on the waves, was horribly shaken, mrs. weldon, fortunately, supported this rolling and pitching without being incommoded. but her little boy was very much tried, and she was obliged to give him all her care. as to cousin benedict, he was no more sick than the american cockroaches which he made his society, and he passed his time in studying, as if he were quietly settled in his study in san francisco. very fortunately, also, tom and his companions found themselves little sensitive to sea-sickness, and they could continue to come to the young novice's aid--well accustomed, himself, to all those excessive movements of a ship which flies before the weather. the "pilgrim" ran rapidly under this reduced sail, and already dick sand foresaw that he would be obliged to reduce it again. but he wished to hold out as long as it would be possible to do so without danger. according to his reckoning, the coast ought to be no longer distant. so they watched with care. all the time the novice could hardly trust his companions' eyes to discover the first indications of land. in fact, no matter what good sight he may have, he who is not accustomed to interrogating the sea horizons is not skilful in distinguishing the first contours of a coast, above all in the middle of fogs. so dick sand must watch himself, and he often climbed as far as the spars to see better. but no sign yet of the american coast. this astonished him, and mrs. weldon, by some words which escaped him, understood that astonishment. it was the th of march. the novice kept at the prow, sometimes observing the sea and the sky, sometimes looking at the "pilgrim's" masting, which began to strain under the force of the wind. "you see nothing yet, dick?" she asked him, at a moment when he had just left the long lookout. "nothing, mrs. weldon, nothing," replied the novice; and meanwhile, the horizon seems to clear a little under this violent wind, which is going to blow still harder." "and, according to you, dick, the american coast ought not to be distant now." "it cannot be, mrs. weldon, and if anything astonishes me, it is not having made it yet." "meanwhile," continued mrs. weldon, "the ship has always followed the right course." "always, since the wind settled in the northwest," replied dick sand; "that is to say, since the day when we lost our unfortunate captain and his crew. that was the th of february. we are now on the th of march. there have been then, twenty-seven since that." "but at that period what distance were we from the coast?" asked mrs. weldon. "about four thousand five hundred miles, mrs. weldon. if there are things about which i have more than a doubt, i can at least guarantee this figure within about twenty miles." "and what has been the ship's speed?" "on an average, a hundred and eighty miles a day since the wind freshened," replied the novice. "so, i am surprised at not being in sight of land. and, what is still more extraordinary, is that we do not meet even a single one of those vessels which generally frequent these parts!" "could you not be deceived, dick," returned mrs. weldon, "in estimating the 'pilgrim's' speed?" "no, mrs. weldon. on that point i could not be mistaken. the log has been thrown every half hour, and i have taken its indications very accurately. wait, i am going to have it thrown anew, and you will see that we are sailing at this moment at the rate of ten miles an hour, which would give us more than two hundred miles a day." dick sand called tom, and gave him the order to throw the log, an operation to which the old black was now quite accustomed. the log, firmly fastened to the end of the line, was brought and sent out. twenty-five fathoms were hardly unrolled, when the rope suddenly slackened between tom's hands. "ah! mr. dick!" cried he. "well, tom?" "the rope has broken!" "broken!" cried dick sand. "and the log is lost!" old tom showed the end of the rope which remained in his hand. it was only too true. it was not the fastening which had failed. the rope had broken in the middle. and, nevertheless, that rope was of the first quality. it must have been, then, that the strands of the rope at the point of rupture were singularly worn! they were, in fact, and dick sand could tell that when he had the end of the rope in his hands! but had they become so by use? was what the novice, become suspicious, asked himself. however that was, the log was now lost, and dick sand had no longer any means of telling exactly the speed of his ship. in the way of instruments, he only possessed one compass, and he did not know that its indications were false. mrs. weldon saw him so saddened by this accident, that she did not wish to insist, and, with a very heavy heart, she retired into her cabin. but if the "pilgrim's" speed and consequently the way sailed over could no longer be estimated, it was easy to tell that the ship's headway was not diminishing. in fact, the next day, march th, the barometer fell to twenty-eight and two-tenths inches. it was the announcement of one of those blasts of wind which travel as much as sixty miles an hour. it became urgent to change once more the state of the sails, so as not to risk the security of the vessel. dick sand resolved to bring down his top-gallant mast and his fore-staff, and to furl his low sails, so as to sail under his foretop-mast stay-sail and the low reef of his top-sail. he called tom and his companions to help him in that difficult operation, which, unfortunately, could not be executed with rapidity. and meanwhile time pressed, for the tempest already declared itself with violence. dick sands, austin, acteon, and bat climbed into the masting, while tom remained at the wheel, and hercules on the deck, so as to slacken the ropes, as soon as he was commanded. after numerous efforts, the fore-staff and the top-gallant mast were gotten down upon the deck, not without these honest men having a hundred times risked being precipitated into the sea, the rolling shook the masting to such an extent. then, the top-sail having been lessened and the foresail furled, the schooner carried only her foretop-mast stay-sail and the low reef of the top-sail. even though her sails were then extremely reduced, the "pilgrim" continued, none the less, to sail with excessive velocity. the th the weather took a still worse appearance. on that day, at dawn, dick sand saw, not without terror, the barometer fall to twenty-seven and nine-tenths inches. it was a real tempest which was raging, and such that the "pilgrim" could not carry even the little sail she had left. dick sand, seeing that his top-sail was going to be torn, gave the order to furl. but it was in vain. a more violent gust struck the ship at that moment, and tore off the sail. austin, who was on the yard of the foretop-sail, was struck by the larboard sheet-rope. wounded, but rather slightly, he could climb down again to the deck. dick sand, extremely anxious, had but one thought. it was that the ship, urged with such fury, was going to be dashed to pieces every moment; for, according to his calculation, the rocks of the coast could not be distant. he then returned to the prow, but he saw nothing which had the appearance of land, and then, came back to the wheel. a moment after negoro came on deck. there, suddenly, as if in spite of himself, his arm was extended toward a point of the horizon. one would say that he recognized some high land in the fogs! still, once more he smiled wickedly, and without saying anything of what he had been able to see, he returned to his post. * * * * * chapter xii. on the horizon. at that date the tempest took its most terrible form, that of the hurricane. the wind had set in from the southwest. the air moved with a velocity of ninety miles an hour. it was indeed a hurricane, in fact, one of those terrible windstorms which wrecks all the ships of a roadstead, and which, even on land, the most solid structures cannot resist. such was the one which, on the th of july, , devastated guadaloupe. when heavy cannons, carrying balls of twenty-four pounds, are raised from their carriages, one may imagine what would become of a ship which has no other point of support than an unsteady sea? and meanwhile, it is to its mobility alone that she may owe her salvation. she yields to the wind, and, provided she is strongly built, she is in a condition to brave the most violent surges. that was the case with the "pilgrim." a few minutes after the top-sail had been torn in pieces, the foretop-mast stay-sail was in its turn torn off. dick sand must then give up the idea of setting even a storm-jib--a small sail of strong linen, which would make the ship easier to govern. the "pilgrim" then ran without canvas, but the wind took effect on her hull, her masts, her rigging, and nothing more was needed to impart to her an excessive velocity. sometimes even she seemed to emerge from the waves, and it was to be believed that she hardly grazed them. under these circumstances, the rolling of the ship, tossed about on the enormous billows raised by the tempest, was frightful. there was danger of receiving some monstrous surge aft. those mountains of water ran faster than the schooner, threatening to strike her stern if she did not rise pretty fast. that is extreme danger for every ship which scuds before the tempest. but what could be done to ward off that contingency? greater speed could not be imparted to the "pilgrim," because she would not have kept the smallest piece of canvas. she must then be managed as much as possible by means of the helm, whose action was often powerless. dick sand no longer left the helm. he was lashed by the waist, so as not to be carried away by some surge. tom and bat, fastened also, stood near to help him. hercules and acteon, bound to the bitts, watched forward. as to mrs. weldon, to little jack, to cousin benedict, to nan, they remained, by order of the novice, in the aft cabins. mrs. weldon would have preferred to have remained on deck, but dick sand was strongly opposed to it; it would be exposing herself uselessly. all the scuttles had been hermetically nailed up. it was hoped that they would resist if some formidable billow should fall on the ship. if, by any mischance, they should yield under the weight of these avalanches, the ship might fill and sink. very fortunately, also, the stowage had been well attended to, so that, notwithstanding the terrible tossing of the vessel, her cargo was not moved about. dick sand had again reduced the number of hours which he gave to sleep. so mrs. weldon began to fear that he would take sick. she made him consent to take some repose. now, it was while he was still lying down, during the night of the th to the th of march, that a new incident took place. tom and bat were aft, when negoro, who rarely appeared on that part of the deck, drew near, and even seemed to wish to enter into conversation with them; but tom and his son did not reply to him. suddenly, in a violent rolling of the ship, negoro fell, and he would, doubtless, have been thrown into the sea if he had not held on to the binnacle. tom gave a cry, fearing the compass would be broken. dick sand, in a moment of wakefulness, heard that cry, and rushing out of his quarters, he ran aft. negoro had already risen, but he held in his hand the piece of iron which he had just taken from under the binnacle, and he hid it before dick sand could see it. was it, then, negoro's interest for the magnetic needle to return to its true direction? yes, for these southwest winds served him now! "what's the matter?" asked the novice. "it's that cook of misfortune, who has just fallen on the compass!" replied tom. at those words dick sand, in the greatest anxiety, leaned over the binnacle. it was in good condition; the compass, lighted by two lamps, rested as usual on its concentric circles. the young novice was greatly affected. the breaking of the only compass on board would be an irreparable misfortune. but what dick sand could not observe was that, since the taking away of the piece of iron, the needle had returned to its normal position, and indicated exactly the magnetic north as it ought to be under that meridian. meanwhile, if negoro could not be made responsible for a fall which seemed to be involuntary, dick sand had reason to be astonished that he was, at that hour, aft in the ship. "what are you doing there?" he asked him. "what i please," replied negoro. "you say----" cried dick sand, who could not restrain his anger. "i say," replied the head cook, "that there is no rule which forbids walking aft." "well, i make that the rule," replied dick sand, "and i forbid you, remember, to come aft." "indeed!" replied negoro. that man, so entirely under self-control, then made a menacing gesture. the novice drew a revolver from his pocket, and pointed it at the head cook. "negoro," said he, "recollect that i am never without this revolver, and that on the first act of insubordination i shall blow out your brains!" at that moment negoro felt himself irresistibly bent to the deck. it was hercules, who had just simply laid his heavy hand on negoro's shoulder. "captain sand," said the giant, "do you want me to throw this rascal overboard? he will regale the fishes, who are not hard to please!" "not yet," replied dick sand. negoro rose as soon as the black's hand no longer weighed upon him. but, in passing hercules: "accursed negro," murmured he, "i'll pay you back!" meanwhile, the wind had just changed; at least, it seemed to have veered round forty-five degrees. and, notwithstanding, a singular thing, which struck the novice, nothing in the condition of the sea indicated that change. the ship headed the same way all the time, but the wind and the waves, instead of taking her directly aft, now struck her by the larboard quarter--a very dangerous situation, which exposes a ship to receive bad surges. so dick sand was obliged to veer round four points to continue to scud before the tempest. but, on the other hand, his attention was awakened more than ever. he asked himself if there was not some connection between negoro's fall and the breaking of the first compass. what did the head cook intend to do there? had he some interest in putting the second compass out of service also? what could that interest be? there was no explanation of that. must not negoro desire, as they all desired, to land on the american coast as soon as possible? when dick sand spoke of this incident to mrs. weldon, the latter, though she shared his distrust in a certain measure, could find no plausible motive for what would be criminal premeditation on the part of the head cook. however, as a matter of prudence, negoro was well watched. thereafter he attended to the novice's orders and he did not risk coming aft in the ship, where his duties never called him. besides, dingo having been installed there permanently, the cook took earn to keep away. during all that week the tempest did not abate. the barometer fell again. from the th to the th of march it was impossible to profit by a single calm to set a few sails. the "pilgrim" scudded to the northeast with a speed which could not be less than two hundred miles in twenty-four hours, and still the land did not appear!--that land, america, which is thrown like an immense barrier between the atlantic and the pacific, over an extent of more than a hundred and twenty degrees! dick sand asked himself if he was not a fool, if he was still in his right mind, if, for so many days, unknown to him, he was not sailing in a false direction. no, he could not find fault with himself on that point. the sun, even though he could not perceive it in the fogs, always rose before him to set behind him. but, then, that land, had it disappeared? that america, on which his vessel would go to pieces, perhaps, where was it, if it was not there? be it the southern continent or the northern continent--for anything way possible in that chaos--the "pilgrim" could not miss either one or the other. what had happened since the beginning of this frightful tempest? what was still going on, as that coast, whether it should prove salvation or destruction, did not appear? must dick sand suppose, then, that he was deceived by his compass, whose indications he could no longer control, because the second compass was lacking to make that control? truly, he had that fear which the absence of all land might justify. so, when he was at the helm, dick sand did not cease to devour the chart with his eyes. but he interrogated it in vain; it could not give him the solution of an enigma which, in the situation in which negoro had placed him, was incomprehensible for him, as it would have been for any one else. on this day, however, the th of march, towards eight o'clock in the morning, an incident of the greatest importance took place. hercules, on watch forward, gave this cry: "land! land!" dick sand sprang to the forecastle. hercules could not have eyes like a seaman. was he not mistaken? "land?" cried dick sand. "there," replied hercules, showing an almost imperceptible point on the horizon in the northeast. they hardly heard each other speak in the midst of the roaring of the sea and the sky. "you have seen the land?" said the novice. "yes," replied hercules. and his hand was still stretched out to larboard forward. the novice looked. he saw nothing. at that moment, mrs. weldon, who had heard the cry given by hercules, came up on deck, notwithstanding her promise not to come there. "madam!" cried dick sand. mrs. weldon, unable to make herself heard, tried, for herself, to perceive that land signaled by the black, and she seemed to have concentrated all her life in her eyes. it must be believed that hercules's hand indicated badly the point of the horizon which he wished to show: neither mrs. weldon nor the novice could see anything. but, suddenly, dick sand in turn stretched out his hand. "yes! yes! land!" said he. a kind of summit had just appeared in an opening in the fog. his sailor's eyes could not deceive him. "at last!" cried he; "at last!" he clang feverishly to the netting. mrs. weldon, sustained by hercules, continued to watch that land almost despaired of. the coast, formed by that high summit, rose at a distance of ten miles to leeward. the opening being completely made in a breaking of the clouds, they saw it again more distinctly. doubtless it was some promontory of the american continent. the "pilgrim," without sails, was not in a condition to head toward it, but it could not fail to make the land there. that could be only a question of a few hours. now, it was eight o'clock in the morning. then, very certainly, before noon the "pilgrim" would be near the land. at a sign from dick sand, hercules led mrs. weldon aft again, for she could not bear up against the violence of the pitching. the novice remained forward for another instant, then he returned to the helm, near old tom. at last, then, he saw that coast, so slowly made, so ardently desired! but it was now with a feeling of terror. in fact, in the "pilgrim's" present condition, that is to say, scudding before the tempest, land to leeward, was shipwreck with all its terrible contingencies. two hours passed away. the promontory was then seen off from the ship. at that moment they saw negoro come on deck. this time he regarded the coast with extreme attention, shook his head like a man who would know what to believe, and went down again, after pronouncing a name that nobody could hear. dick sand himself sought to perceive the coast, which ought to round off behind the promontory. two hours rolled by. the promontory was standing on the larboard stern, but the coast was not yet to be traced. meanwhile the sky cleared at the horizon, and a high coast, like the american land, bordered by the immense chain of the andes, should be visible for more than twenty miles. dick sand took his telescope and moved it slowly over the whole eastern horizon. nothing! he could see nothing! at two o'clock in the afternoon every trace of land had disappeared behind the "pilgrim." forward, the telescope could not seize any outline whatsoever of a coast, high or low. then a cry escaped dick sand. immediately leaving the deck, he rushed into the cabin, where mrs. weldon was with little jack, nan, and cousin benedict. "an island! that was only an island!" said he. "an island, dick! but what?" asked mrs. weldon. "the chart will tell us," replied the novice. and running to his berth, he brought the ship's chart. "there, mrs. weldon, there!" said he. "that land which we have seen, it can only be this point, lost in the middle of the pacific! it can only be the isle of paques; there is no other in these parts." "and we have already left it behind?" asked mrs. weldon. "yes, well to the windward of us." mrs. weldon looked attentively at the isle of paques, which only formed an imperceptible point on the chart. "and at what distance is it from the american coast?" "thirty-five degrees." "which makes----" "about two thousand miles." "but then the 'pilgrim' has not sailed, if we are still so far from the continent?" "mrs. weldon," replied dick sand, who passed his hand over his forehead for a moment, as if to concentrate his ideas, "i do not know--i cannot explain this incredible delay! no! i cannot--unless the indications of the compass have been false? but that island can only be the isle of paques, because we have been obliged to scud before the wind to the northeast, and we must thank heaven, which has permitted me to mark our position! yes, it is still two thousand miles from the coast! i know, at last, where the tempest has blown us, and, if it abates, we shall be able to land on the american continent with some chance of safety. now, at least, our ship is no longer lost on the immensity of the pacific!" this confidence, shown by the young novice, was shared by all those who heard him speak. mrs. weldon, herself, gave way to it. it seemed, indeed, that these poor people were at the end of their troubles, and that the "pilgrim," being to the windward of her port, had only to wait for the open sea to enter it! the isle of paques--by its true name vai-hon--discovered by david in , visited by cook and laperouse, is situated ° south latitude and ° east longitude. if the schooner had been thus led more than fifteen degrees to the north, that was evidently due to that tempest from the southwest, before which it had been obliged to scud. then the "pilgrim" was still two thousand miles from the coast. however, under the impetus of that wind which blew like thunder, it must, in less than ten days, reach some point of the coast of south america. but could they not hope, as the novice had said, that the weather would become more manageable, and that it would be possible to set some sail, when they should make the land? it was still dick sand's hope. he said to himself that this hurricane, which had lasted so many days, would end perhaps by "killing itself." and now that, thanks to the appearance of the isle of paques, he knew exactly his position, he had reason to believe that, once master of his vessel again, he would know how to lead her to a safe place. yes! to have had knowledge of that isolated point in the middle of the sea, as by a providential favor, that had restored confidence to dick sand; if he was going all the time at the caprice of a hurricane, which he could not subdue, at least, he was no longer going quite blindfold. besides, the "pilgrim," well-built and rigged, had suffered little during those rude attacks of the tempest. her damages reduced themselves to the loss of the top-sail and the foretop-mast stay-sail--a loss which it would be easy to repair. not a drop of water had penetrated through the well-stanched seams of the hull and the deck. the pumps were perfectly free. in this respect there was nothing to fear. there was, then, this interminable hurricane, whose fury nothing seemed able to moderate. if, in a certain measure, dick sand could put his ship in a condition to struggle against the violent storm, he could not order that wind to moderate, those waves to be still, that sky to become serene again. on board, if he was "master after god," outside the ship, god alone commanded the winds and the waves. * * * * * chapter xiii. land! land! meanwhile, that confidence with which dick sand's heart filled instinctively, was going to be partly justified. the next day, march th, the column of mercury rose in the barometrical tube. the oscillation was neither sudden nor considerable--a few lines only--but the progression seemed likely to continue. the tempest was evidently going to enter its decreasing period, and, if the sea did remain excessively rough, they could tell that the wind was going down, veering slightly to the west. dick sand could not yet think of using any sail. the smallest sail would be carried away. however, he hoped that twenty-four hours would not elapse before it would be possible for him to rig a storm-jib. during the night, in fact, the wind went down quite noticeably, if they compared it to what it had been till then, and the ship was less tossed by those violent rollings which had threatened to break her in pieces. the passengers began to appear on deck again. they no longer ran the risk of being carried away by some surge from the sea. mrs. weldon was the first to leave the hatchway where dick sand, from prudent motives, had obliged them to shut themselves up during the whole duration of that long tempest. she came to talk with the novice, whom a truly superhuman will had rendered capable of resisting so much fatigue. thin, pale under his sunburnt complexion, he might well be weakened by the loss of that sleep so necessary at his age. no, his valiant nature resisted everything. perhaps he would pay dearly some day for that period of trial. but that was not the moment to allow himself to be cast down. dick sand had said all that to himself. mrs. weldon found him as energetic as he had ever been. and then he had confidence, that brave sand, and if confidence does not command itself, at least it commands. "dick, my dear child, my captain," said mrs. weldon, holding out her hand to the young novice. "ah! mrs. weldon," exclaimed dick sand, smiling, "you disobey your captain. you return on deck, you leave your cabin in spite of his--prayers." "yes, i disobey you," replied mrs. weldon; "but i have, as it were, a presentiment that the tempest is going down or is going to become calm." "it is becoming calm, in fact, mrs. weldon," replied the novice. "you are not mistaken. the barometer has not fallen since yesterday. the wind has moderated, and i have reason to believe that our hardest trials are over." "heaven hears you, dick. all! you have suffered much, my poor child! you have done there----" "only my duty, mrs. weldon." "but at last will you be able to take some rest?" "rest!" replied the novice; "i have no need of rest, mrs. weldon. i am well, thank god, and it is necessary for me to keep up to the end. you have called me captain, and i shall remain captain till the moment when all the 'pilgrim's' passengers shall be in safety." "dick," returned mrs. weldon, "my husband and i, we shall never forget what you have just done." "god has done all," replied dick sand; "all!" "my child, i repeat it, that by your moral and physical energy, you have shown yourself a man--a man fit to command, and before long, as soon as your studies are finished--my husband will not contradict me--you will command for the house of james w. weldon!" "i--i----" exclaimed dick sand, whose eyes filled with tears. "dick," replied mrs. weldon, "you are already our child by adoption, and now, you are our son, the deliverer of your mother, and of your little brother jack. my dear dick, i embrace you for my husband and for myself!" the courageous woman did not wish to give way while clasping the young novice in her arms, but her heart overflowed. as to dick sand's feelings, what pen could do them justice? he asked himself if he could not do more than give his life for his benefactors, and he accepted in advance all the trials which might come upon him in the future. after this conversation dick sand felt stronger. if the wind should become so moderate that he should be able to hoist some canvas, he did not doubt being able to steer his ship to a port where all those which it carried would at last be in safety. on the th, the wind having moderated a little, dick sand thought of setting the foresail and the top-sail, consequently to increase the speed of the "pilgrim" while directing her course. "come, tom; come, my friends!" cried he, when he went on deck at daybreak; "come, i need your arms!" "we are ready, captain sand," replied old tom. "ready for everything," added hercules. "there was nothing to do during that tempest, and i begin to grow rusty." "you should have blown with your big mouth," said little jack; "i bet you would have been as strong as the wind!" "that is an idea, jack," replied dick sand, laughing. "when there is a calm we shall make hercules blow on the sails." "at your service, mister dick!" replied the brave black, inflating his cheeks like a gigantic boreas. "now, my friends," continued the novice, we are to begin by binding a spare sail to the yard, because our top-sail was carried away in the hurricane. it will be difficult, perhaps, but it must be done." "it shall be done!" replied acteon. "can i help you?" asked little jack, always ready to work. "yes, my jack," replied the novice. "you will take your place at the wheel, with our friend bat, and you will help him to steer." if little jack was proud of being assistant helmsman on the "pilgrim," it is superfluous to say so. "now to work," continued dick sand, "and we must expose ourselves as little as possible." the blacks, guided by the novice, went to work at once. to fasten a top-sail to its yard presented some difficulties for tom and his companions. first the rolled up sail must be hoisted, then fastened to the yard. however, dick sand commanded so well, and was so well obeyed, that after an hour's work the sail was fastened to its yard, the yard hoisted, and the top-sail properly set with two reefs. as to the foresail and the second jib, which had been furled before the tempest, those sails were set without a great deal of trouble, in spite of the force of the wind. at last, on that day, at ten o'clock in the morning, the "pilgrim" was sailing under her foresail, her top-sail, and her jib. dick sand had not judged it prudent to set more sail. the canvas which he carried ought to assure him, as long as the wind did not moderate, a speed of at least two hundred miles in twenty-four hours, and he did not need any greater to reach the american coast before ten days. the novice was indeed satisfied when, returning to the wheel, he again took his post, after thanking master jack, assistant helmsman of the "pilgrim." he was no longer at the mercy of the waves. he was making headway. his joy will be understood by all those who are somewhat familiar with the things of the sea. the next day the clouds still ran with the same velocity, but they left large openings between them, through which the rays of the sun made their way to the surface of the waters. the "pilgrim" was at times overspread with them. a good thing is that vivifying light! sometimes it was extinguished behind a large mass of vapors which came up in the east, then it reappeared, to disappear again, but the weather was becoming fine again. the scuttles had been opened to ventilate the interior of the ship. a salubrious air penetrated the hold, the rear hatchway, the crew's quarters. they put the wet sails to dry, stretching them out in the sun. the deck was also cleaned. dick sand did not wish his ship to arrive in port without having made a bit of toilet. without overworking the crew, a few hours spent each day at that work would bring it to a good end. though the novice could no longer throw the log, he was so accustomed to estimating the headway of a ship that he could take a close account of her speed. he had then no doubt of reaching land before seven days, and he gave that opinion to mrs. weldon, after showing her, on the chart, the probable position of the ship. "well, at what point of the coast shall we arrive, my dear dick?" she asked him. "here, mrs. weldon," replied the novice, indicating that long coast line which extends from peru to chili. "i do not know how to be more exact. here is the isle of paques, that we have left behind in the west, and, by the direction of the wind, which has been constant, i conclude that we shall reach land in the east. ports are quite numerous on that coast, but to name the one we shall have in view when we make the land is impossible at this moment." "well, dick, whichever it may be, that port will be welcome." "yes, mrs. weldon, and you will certainly find there the means to return promptly to san francisco. the pacific navigation company has a very well organized service on this coast. its steamers touch at the principal points of the coast; nothing will be easier than to take passage for california." "then you do not count on bringing the 'pilgrim' to san francisco?" asked mrs. weldon. "yes, after having put you on shore, mrs. weldon. if we can procure an officer and a crew, we are going to discharge our cargo at valparaiso, as captain hull would have done. then we shall return to our own port. but that would delay you too much, and, though very sorry to be separated from you----" "well, dick," replied mrs. weldon, "we shall see later what must be done. tell me, you seem to fear the dangers which the land presents." "in fact, they are to be feared," replied the novice, "but i am always hoping to meet some ship in these parts, and i am even very much surprised at not seeing any. if only one should pass, we would enter into communication with her; she would give us our exact situation, which would greatly facilitate our arrival in sight of land." "are there not pilots who do service along this coast?" asked mrs. weldon. "there ought to be," replied dick sand, "but much nearer land. we must then continue to approach it." "and if we do not meet a pilot?" asked mrs. weldon, who kept on questioning him in order to know how the young novice would prepare for all contingencies. "in that case, mrs. weldon, either the weather will be clear, the wind moderate, and i shall endeavor to sail up the coast sufficiently near to find a refuge, or the wind will be stronger, and then----" "then what will you do, dick?" "then, in the present condition of the 'pilgrim,'" replied dick sand, "once near the land, it will be very difficult to set off again." "what will you do?" repeated mrs. weldon. "i shall be forced to run my ship aground," replied the novice, whose brow darkened for a moment. "ah! it is a hard extremity. god grant that we may not be reduced to that. but, i repeat it, mrs. weldon, the appearance of the sky is reassuring, and it is impossible for a vessel or a pilot-boat not to meet us. then, good hope. we are headed for the land, we shall see it before long." yes, to run a ship aground is a last extremity, to which the most energetic sailor does not resort without fear! thus, dick sand did not wish to foresee it, while he had some chances of escaping it. for several days there were, in the state of the atmosphere, alternatives which, anew, made the novice very uneasy. the wind kept in the condition of a stiff breeze all the time, and certain oscillations of the barometrical column indicated that it tended to freshen. dick sand then asked himself, not without apprehension, if he would be again forced to scud without sails. he had so much interest in keeping at least his top-sail, that he resolved to do so so long as it was not likely to be carried away. but, to secure the solidity of the masts, he had the shrouds and backstays hauled taut. above all, all unnecessary risk must be avoided, as the situation would become one of the gravest, if the "pilgrim" should be disabled by losing her masts. once or twice, also, the barometer rising gave reason to fear that the wind might change point for point; that is to say, that it might pass to the east. it would then be necessary to sail close to the wind! a new anxiety for dick sand. what should he do with a contrary wind? tack about? but if he was obliged to come to that, what new delays and what risks of being thrown into the offing. happily those fears were not realized. the wind, after shifting for several days, blowing sometimes from the north, sometimes from the south, settled definitely in the west. but it was always a strong breeze, almost a gale, which strained the masting. it was the th of april. so, then, more than two months had already elapsed since the "pilgrim" had left new zealand. for twenty days a contrary wind and long calms had retarded her course. then she was in a favorable condition to reach land rapidly. her speed must even have been very considerable during the tempest. dick sand estimated its average at not less than two hundred miles a day! how, then, had he not yet made the coast? did it flee before the "pilgrim?" it was absolutely inexplicable. and, nevertheless, no land was signaled, though one of the blacks kept watch constantly in the crossbars. dick sand often ascended there himself. there, with a telescope to his eyes, he sought to discover some appearance of mountains. the andes chain is very high. it was there in the zone of the clouds that he must seek some peak, emerging from the vapors of the horizon. several times tom and his companions were deceived by false indications of land. they were only vapors of an odd form, which rose in the background. it happened sometimes that these honest men were obstinate in their belief; but, after a certain time, they were forced to acknowledge that they had been dupes of an optical illusion. the pretended land, moved away, changed form and finished by disappearing completely. on the th of april there was no longer any doubt possible. it was eight o'clock in the morning. dick sand had just ascended into the bars. at that moment the fogs were condensed under the first rays of the sun, and the horizon was pretty clearly defined. from dick sand's lips escaped at last the so long expected cry: "land! land before us!" at that cry every one ran on deck, little jack, curious as folks are at that age, mrs. weldon, whose trials were going to cease with the landing, tom and his companions, who were at last going to set foot again on the american continent, cousin benedict himself, who had great hope of picking up quite a rich collection of new insects for himself. negoro, alone, did not appear. each then saw what dick sand had seen, some very distinctly, others with the eyes of faith. but on the part of the novice, so accustomed to observe sea horizons, there was no error possible, and an hour after, it must be allowed he was not deceived. at a distance of about four miles to the east stretched a rather low coast, or at least what appeared such. it must be commanded behind by the high chain of the andes, but the last zone of clouds did not allow the summits to be perceived. the "pilgrim" sailed directly and rapidly to this coast, which grew larger to the eye. two hours after it was only three miles away. this part of the coast ended in the northeast by a pretty high cape, which covered a sort of roadstead protected from land winds. on the contrary, in the southeast, it lengthened out like a thin peninsula. a few trees crowned a succession of low cliffs, which were then clearly defined under the sky. but it was evident, the geographical character of the country being given, that the high mountain chain of the andes formed their background. moreover, no habitation in sight, no port, no river mouth, which might serve as a harbor for a vessel. at that moment the "pilgrim" was running right on the land. with the reduced sail which she carried, the winds driving her to the coast, dick sand would not be able to set off from it. in front lay a long band of reefs, on which the sea was foaming all white. they saw the waves unfurl half way up the cliffs. there must be a monstrous surf there. dick sand, after remaining on the forecastle to observe the coast, returned aft, and, without saying a word, he took the helm. the wind was freshening all the time. the schooner was soon only a mile from the shore. dick sand then perceived a sort of little cove, into which he resolved to steer; but, before reaching it, he must cross a line of reefs, among which it would be difficult to follow a channel. the surf indicated that the water was shallow everywhere. at that moment dingo, who was going backwards and forwards on the deck, dashed forward, and, looking at the land, gave some lamentable barks. one would say that the dog recognized the coast, and that its instinct recalled some sad remembrance. negoro must have heard it, for an irresistible sentiment led him out of his cabin; and although he had reason to fear the dog, he came almost immediately to lean on the netting. very fortunately for him dingo, whose sad barks were all the time being addressed to that land, did not perceive him. negoro looked at that furious surf, and that did not appear to frighten him. mrs. weldon, who was looking at him, thought she saw his face redden a little, and that for an instant his features were contracted. then, did negoro know this point of the continent where the winds were driving the "pilgrim?" at that moment dick sand left the wheel, which he gave back to old tom. for a last time he came to look at the cove, which gradually opened. then: "mrs. weldon," said he, in a firm voice, "i have no longer any hope of finding a harbor! before half an hour, in spite of all my efforts, the 'pilgrim' will be on the reefs! we must run aground! i shall not bring the ship into port! i am forced to lose her to save you! but, between your safety and hers, i do not hesitate!" "you have done all that depended on you, dick?" asked mrs. weldon. "all," replied the young novice. and at once he made his preparations for stranding the ship. first of all, mrs. weldon, jack, cousin benedict and nan, must put on life-preservers. dick sand, tom and the blacks, good swimmers, also took measures to gain the coast, in case they should be precipitated into the sea. hercules would take charge of mrs. weldon. the novice took little jack under his care. cousin benedict, very tranquil, however, reappeared on the deck with his entomologist box strapped to his shoulder. the novice commended him to bat and austin. as to negoro, his singular calmness said plainly enough that he had no need of anybody's aid. dick sand, by a supreme precaution, had also brought on the forecastle ten barrels of the cargo containing whale's oil. that oil, properly poured the moment the "pilgrim" would be in the surf, ought to calm the sea for an instant, in lubricating, so to say, the molecules of water, and that operation would perhaps facilitate the ship's passage between the reefs. dick sand did not wish to neglect anything which might secure the common safety. all these precautions taken, the novice returned to take his place at the wheel. the "pilgrim" was only two cables' lengths from the coast, that is, almost touching the reefs, her starboard side already bathed in the white foam of the surf. each moment the novice thought that the vessel's keel was going to strike some rocky bottom. suddenly, dick sand knew, by a change in the color of the water, that a channel lengthened out among the reefs. he must enter it bravely without hesitating, so as to make the coast as near as possible to the shore. the novice did not hesitate. a movement of the helm thrust the ship into the narrow and sinuous channel. in this place the sea was still more furious, and the waves dashed on the deck. the blacks were posted forward, near the barrels, waiting for the novice's orders. "pour the oil--pour!" exclaimed dick sand. under this oil, which was poured on it in quantities, the sea grew calm, as by enchantment, only to become more terrible again a moment after. the "pilgrim" glided rapidly over those lubricated waters and headed straight for the shore. suddenly a shock took place. the ship, lifted by a formidable wave, had just stranded, and her masting had fallen without wounding anybody. the "pilgrim's" hull, damaged by the collision, was invaded by the water with extreme violence. but the shore was only half a cable's length off, and a chain of small blackish rocks enabled it to be reached quite easily. so, ten minutes after, all those carried by the "pilgrim" had landed at the foot of the cliff. chapter xiv. the best to do. so then, after a voyage long delayed by calms, then favored by winds from the northwest and from the southwest--a voyage which had not lasted less than seventy-four days--the "pilgrim" had just run aground! however, mrs. weldon. and her companions thanked providence, because they were in safety. in fact, it was on a continent, and not on one of the fatal isles of polynesia, that the tempest had thrown them. their return to their country, from any point of south america on which they should land, ought not, it seemed, to present serious difficulties. as to the "pilgrim," she was lost. she was only a carcass without value, of which the surf was going to disperse the _débris_ in a few hours. it would be impossible to save anything. but if dick sand had not that joy of bringing back a vessel intact to his ship-owner, at least, thanks to him, those who sailed in her were safe and sound on some hospitable coast, and among them, the wife and child of james w. weldon. as to the question of knowing on what part of the american coast the schooner had been wrecked, they might dispute it for a long time. was it, as dick sand must suppose, on the shore of peru? perhaps, for he knew, even by the bearings of the isle of paques, that the "pilgrim" had been thrown to the northeast under the action of the winds; and also, without doubt, under the influence of the currents of the equatorial zone. from the forty-third degree of latitude, it had, indeed, been possible to drift to the fifteenth. it was then important to determine, as soon as possible, the precise point of the coast where the schooner had just been lost. granted that this coast was that of peru, ports, towns and villages were not lacking, and consequently it would be easy to gain some inhabited place. as to this part of the coast, it seemed deserted. it was a narrow beach, strewed with black rocks, shut off by a cliff of medium height, very irregularly cut up by large funnels due to the rupture of the rock. here and there a few gentle declivities gave access to its crest. in the north, at a quarter of a mile from the stranding place, was the mouth of a little river, which could not have been perceived from the offing. on its banks hung numerous _rhizomas_, sorts of mangroves, essentially distinct from their congeners of india. the crest of the cliff--that was soon discovered--was overhung by a thick forest, whose verdant masses undulated before the eyes, and extended as far as the mountains in the background. there, if cousin benedict had been a botanist, how many trees, new to him, would not have failed to provoke his admiration. there were high baobabs--to which, however, an extraordinary longevity has been falsely attributed--the bark of which resembles egyptian syenite, bourbon palms, white pines, tamarind-trees, pepper-plants of a peculiar species, and a hundred other plants that an american is not accustomed to see in the northern region of the new continent. but, a circumstance rather curious, among those forest productions one would not meet a single specimen of that numerous family of palm-trees which counts more than a thousand species, spread in profusion over almost the whole surface of the globe. above the sea-shore a great number of very noisy birds were flying, which belonged for the greater part to different varieties of swallows, of black plumage, with a steel-blue shade, but of a light chestnut color on the upper part of the head. here and there also rose some partridges, with necks entirely white, and of a gray color. mrs. weldon and dick sand observed that these different birds did not appear to be at all wild. they approached without fearing anything. then, had they not yet learned to fear the presence of man, and was this coast so deserted that the detonation of a firearm had never been heard there? at the edge of the rocks were walking some pelicans of the species of "pelican minor," occupied in filling with little fish the sack which they carry between the branches of their lower jaw. some gulls, coming from the offing, commenced to fly about around the "pilgrim." those birds were the only living creatures that seemed to frequent this part of the coast, without counting, indeed, numbers of interesting insects that cousin benedict would well know how to discover. but, however little jack would have it, one could not ask them the name of the country; in order to learn it, it would be necessary to address some native. there were none there, or at least, there was not one to be seen. no habitation, hut, or cabin, neither in the north, beyond the little river, nor in the south, nor finally on the upper part of the cliff, in the midst of the trees of the thick forest. no smoke ascended into the air, no indication, mark, or imprint indicated that this portion of the continent was visited by human beings. dick sand continued to be very much surprised. "where are we? where can we be?" he asked himself. "what! nobody to speak to?" nobody, in truth, and surely, if any native had approached, dingo would have scented him, and announced him by a bark. the dog went backward and forward on the strand, his nose to the ground, his tail down, growling secretly--certainly very singular behavior--but neither betraying the approach of man nor of any animal whatsoever. "dick, look at dingo!" said mrs. weldon. "yes, that is very strange," replied the novice. "it seems as if he were trying to recover a scent." "very strange, indeed," murmured mrs. weldon; then, continuing, "what is negoro doing?" she asked. "he is doing what dingo is doing," replied dick sand. "he goes, he comes! after all, he is free here. i have no longer the right to control him. his service ended with the stranding of the pilgrim.'" in fact, negoro surveyed the strand, turned back, and looked at the shore and the cliff like a man trying to recall recollections and to fix them. did he, then, know this country? he would probably have refused to reply to that question if it had been asked. the best thing was still to have nothing to do with that very unsociable personage. dick sand soon saw him walk from the side of the little river, and when negoro had disappeared on the other side of the cliff, he ceased to think of him. dingo had indeed barked when the cook had arrived on the steep bank, but became silent almost immediately. it was necessary, now, to consider the most pressing wants. now, the most pressing was to find a refuge, a shelter of some kind, where they could install themselves for the time, and partake of some nourishment. then they would take counsel, and they would decide what it would be convenient to do. as to food, they had not to trouble themselves. without speaking of the resources which the country must offer, the ship's store-room had emptied itself for the benefit of the survivors of the shipwreck. the surf had thrown here and there among the rocks, then uncovered by the ebb-tide, a great quantity of objects. tom and his companions had already picked up some barrels of biscuit, boxes of alimentary preserves, cases of dried meat. the water not having yet damaged them, food for the little troop was secured for more time, doubtless, than they would require to reach a town or a village. in that respect there was nothing to fear. these different waifs, already put in a safe place, could no longer be taken back by a rising sea. neither was sweet water lacking. first of all dick sand had taken care to send hercules to the little river for a few pints. but it was a cask which the vigorous negro brought back on his shoulder, after having filled it with water fresh and pure, which the ebb of the tide left perfectly drinkable. as to a fire, if it were necessary to light one, dead wood was not lacking in the neighborhood, and the roots of the old mangroves ought to furnish all the fuel of which they would have need. old tom, an ardent smoker, was provided with a certain quantity of german tinder, well preserved in a box hermetically closed, and when they wanted it, he would only have to strike the tinder-box with the flint of the strand. it remained, then, to discover the hole in which the little troop would lie down, in case they must take one night's rest before setting out. and, indeed, it was little jack who found the bedroom in question, while trotting about at the foot of the cliff, he discovered, behind a turn of the rock, one of those grottoes well polished, well hollowed out, which the sea herself digs, when the waves, enlarged by the tempest, beat the coast. the young child was delighted. he called his mother with cries of joy, and triumphantly showed her his discovery. "good, my jack!" replied mrs. weldon. "if we were robinson crusoes, destined to live a long time on this shore, we should not forget to give your name to that grotto!" the grotto was only from ten to twelve feet long, and as many wide; but, in little jack's eyes, it was an enormous cavern. at all events, it must suffice to contain the shipwrecked ones; and, as mrs. weldon and nan noted with satisfaction, it was very dry. the moon being then in her first quarter, they need not fear that those neap-tides would reach the foot of the cliff, and the grotto in consequence. then, nothing more was needed for a few hours' rest. ten minutes after everybody was stretched out on a carpet of sea-weed. negoro himself thought he must rejoin the little troop and take his part of the repast, which was going to be made in common. doubtless he had not judged it proper to venture alone under the thick forest, through which the winding river made its way. it was one o'clock in the afternoon. the preserved meat, the biscuit, the sweet water, with the addition of a few drops of rum, of which bat had saved a quarter cask, made the requisites for this repast. but if negoro took part in it, he did not at all mingle in the conversation, in which were discussed the measures demanded by the situation of the shipwrecked. all the time, without appearing to do so, he listened to it, and doubtless profited by what he heard. during this time dingo, who had not been forgotten, watched outside the grotto. they could be at ease. no living being would show himself on the strand without the faithful animal giving the alarm. mrs. weldon, holding her little jack, half lying and almost asleep on her lap, began to speak. "dick, my friend," said she, "in the name of all, i thank you for the devotion that you have shown us till now; but we do not consider you free yet. you will be our guide on land, as you were our captain at sea. we place every confidence in you. speak, then! what must we do?" mrs. weldon, old nan, tom and his companions, all had their eyes fixed on the young novice. negoro himself looked at him with a singular persistence. evidently, what dick sand was going to reply interested him very particularly. dick sand reflected for a few moments. then: "mrs. weldon," said he, "the important thing is to know, first, where we are. i believe that our ship can only have made the land on that portion of the american sea-coast which forms the peruvian shore. the winds and currents must have carried her as far as that latitude. but are we here in some southern province of peru, that is to say on the least inhabited part which borders upon the pampas? maybe so. i would even willingly believe it, seeing this beach so desolate, and, it must be, but little frequented. in that case, we might be very far from the nearest town, which would be unfortunate." "well, what is to be done?" repeated mrs. weldon. "my advice," replied dick sand, "would be not to leave this shelter till we know our situation. to-morrow, after a night's rest, two of us could go to discover it. they would endeavor, without going too far, to meet some natives, to inform themselves from them, and return to the grotto. it is not possible that, in a radius of ten or twelve miles, we find nobody." "to separate!" said mrs. weldon. "that seems necessary to me," replied the novice. "if no information can be picked up, if, as is not impossible, the country is absolutely desolate, well, we shall consider some other way of extricating ourselves." "and which of us shall go to explore?" asked mrs. weldon, after a moment's reflection. "that is yet to be decided," replied dick sand. "at all events, i think that you, mrs. weldon, jack, mr. benedict, and nan, ought not to quit this grotto. bat, hercules, acteon, and austin should remain near you, while tom and i should go forward. negoro, doubtless, will prefer to remain here?" added dick sand, looking at the head-cook. "probably," replied negoro, who was not a man to commit himself any more than that. "we should take dingo with us," continued the novice. "he would be useful to us during our exploration." dingo, hearing his name pronounced, reappeared at the entrance of the grotto, and seemed to approve of dick sand's projects by a little bark. since the novice had made this proposition, mrs. weldon remained pensive. her repugnance to the idea of a separation, even short, was very serious. might it not happen that the shipwreck of the "pilgrim" would soon be known to the indian tribes who frequented the sea-shore, either to the north or to the south, and in case some plunderers of the wrecks thrown on the shore should present themselves, was it not better for all to be united to repulse them? that objection, made to the novice's proposition, truly merited a discussion. it fell, however, before dick sand's arguments, who observed that the indians ought not to be confounded with the savages of africa or polynesia, and any aggression on their part was probably not to be feared. but to entangle themselves in this country without even knowing to what province of south america it belonged, nor at what distance the nearest town of that province was situated, was to expose themselves to many fatigues. doubtless separation might have its inconveniences, but far less than marching blindly into the midst of a forest which appeared to stretch as far as the base of the mountains. "besides," repeated dick sand, persistently, "i cannot admit that this separation will be of long duration, and i even affirm that it will not be so. after two days, at the most, if tom and i have come across neither habitation nor inhabitant, we shall return to the grotto. but that is too improbable, and we shall not have advanced twenty miles into the interior of the country before we shall evidently be satisfied about its geographical situation. i may be mistaken in my calculation, after all, because the means of fixing it astronomically have failed me, and it is not impossible for us to be in a higher or lower latitude." "yes--you are certainly right, my child," replied mrs. weldon, in great anxiety. "and you, mr. benedict," asked dick sand, "what do you think of this project?" "i?" replied cousin benedict. "yes; what is your advice?" "i have no advice," replied cousin benedict. "i find everything proposed, good, and i shall do everything that you wish. do you wish to remain here one day or two? that suits me, and i shall employ my time in studying this shore from a purely entomological point of view." "do, then, according to your wish," said mrs. weldon to dick sand. "we shall remain here, and you shall depart with old tom." "that is agreed upon," said cousin benedict, in the most tranquil manner in the world. "as for me, i am going to pay a visit to the insects of the country." "do not go far away, mr. benedict," said the novice. "we urge you strongly not to do it." "do not be uneasy, my boy." "and above all, do not bring back too many musquitoes," added old tom. a few moments after, the entomologist, his precious tin box strapped to his shoulders, left the grotto. almost at the same time negoro abandoned it also. it appeared quite natural to that man to, be always occupied with himself. but, while cousin benedict clambered up the slopes of the cliff to go to explore the border of the forest, he, turning round toward the river, went away with slow steps and disappeared, a second time ascending the steep bank. jack slept all the time. mrs. weldon, leaving him on nan's knees, then descended toward the strand. dick sand and his companions followed her. the question was, to see if the state of the sea then would permit them to go as far as the "pilgrim's" hull, where there were still many objects which might be useful to the little troop. the rocks on which the schooner had been wrecked were now dry. in the midst of the _débris_ of all kinds stood the ship's carcass, which the high sea had partly covered again. that astonished dick sand, for he knew that the tides are only very moderate on the american sea-shore of the pacific. but, after all, this phenomenon might be explained by the fury of the wind which beat the coast. on seeing their ship again, mrs. weldon and her companions experienced a painful impression. it was there that they had lived for long days, there that they had suffered. the aspect of that poor ship, half broken, having neither mast nor sails, lying on her side like a being deprived of life, sadly grieved their hearts. but they must visit this hull, before the sea should come to finish demolishing it. dick sand and the blacks could easily make their way into the interior, after having hoisted themselves on deck by means of the ropes which hung over the "pilgrim's" side. while tom, hercules, bat, and austin employed themselves in taking from the storeroom all that might be useful, as much eatables as liquids, the novice made his way into the arsenal. thanks to god, the water had not invaded this part of the ship, whose rear had remained out of the water after the stranding. there dick sand found four guns in good condition, excellent remingtons from purdy & co.'s factory, as well as a hundred cartridges, carefully shut up in their cartridge-boxes. there was material to arm his little band, and put it in a state of defense, if, contrary to all expectation, the indians attacked him on the way. the novice did not neglect to take a pocket-lantern; but the ship's charts, laid in a forward quarter and damaged by the water, were beyond use. there were also in the "pilgrim's" arsenal some of those solid cutlasses which serve to cut up whales. dick sand chose six, destined to complete the arming of his companions, and he did not forget to bring an inoffensive child's gun, which belonged to little jack. as to the other objects still held by the ship, they had either been dispersed, or they could no longer be used. besides, it was useless to overburden themselves for the few days the journey would last. in food, in arms, in munitions, they were more than provided for. meanwhile, dick sand, by mrs. weldon's advice, did not neglect to take all the money which he found on board--about five hundred dollars. that was a small sum, indeed! mrs. weldon had carried a larger amount herself and she did not find it again. who, then, except negoro, had been able to visit the ship before them and to lay hands on captain hull's and mrs. weldon's reserve? no one but he, surely, could be suspected. however, dick sand hesitated a moment. all that he knew and all that he saw of him was that everything was to be feared from that concentrated nature, from whom the misfortunes of others could snatch a smile. yes, negoro was an evil being, but must they conclude from that that he was a criminal? it was painful to dick sand's character to go as far as that. and, meanwhile, could suspicion rest on any other? no, those honest negroes had not left the grotto for an instant, while negoro had wandered over the beach. he alone must be guilty. dick sand then resolved to question negoro, and, if necessary, have him searched when he returned. he wished to know decidedly what to believe. the sun was then going down to the horizon. at that date he had not yet crossed the equator to carry heat and light into the northern hemisphere, but he was approaching it. he fell, then, almost perpendicularly to that circular line where the sea and the sky meet. twilight was short, darkness fell promptly--which confirmed the novice in the thought that he had landed on a point of the coast situated between the tropic of capricorn and the equator. mrs. weldon, dick sand, and the blacks then returned to the grotto, where they must take some hours' rest. "the night will still be stormy," observed tom, pointing to the horizon laden with heavy clouds. "yes," replied dick sand, "there is a strong breeze blowing up. but what matter, at present? our poor ship is lost, and the tempest can no longer reach us?" "god's will be done!" said mrs. weldon. it was agreed that during that night, which would be very dark, each of the blacks would watch turn about at the entrance to the grotto. they could, besides, count upon dingo to keep a careful watch. they then perceived that cousin benedict had not returned. hercules called him with all the strength of his powerful lungs, and almost immediately they saw the entomologist coming down the slopes of the cliff, at the risk of breaking his neck. cousin benedict was literally furious. he had not found a single new insect in the forest--no, not one--which was fit to figure in his collection. scorpions, scolopendras, and other myriapodes, as many as he could wish, and even more, were discovered. and we know that cousin benedict did not interest himself in myriapodes. "it was not worth the trouble," added he, "to travel five or six thousand miles, to have braved the tempest, to be wrecked on the coast, and not meet one of those american hexapodes, which do honor to an entomological museum! no; the game was not worth the candle!" as a conclusion, cousin benedict asked to go away. he did not wish to remain another hour on that detested shore. mrs. weldon calmed her large child. they made him hope that he would be more fortunate the next day, and all went to lie down in the grotto, to sleep there till sunrise, when tom observed that negoro had not yet returned, though night had arrived. "where can he be?" asked mrs. weldon. "what matter!" said bat. "on the contrary, it does matter," replied mrs. weldon. "i should prefer having that man still near us." "doubtless, mrs. weldon," replied dick sand; "but if he has forsaken our company voluntarily, i do not see how we could oblige him to rejoin us. who knows but he has his reasons for avoiding us forever?" and taking mrs. weldon aside, dick sand confided to her his suspicions. he was not astonished to find that she had them also. only they differed on one point. "if negoro reappears," said mrs. weldon, "he will have put the product of his theft in a safe place. take my advice. what we had better do, not being able to convict him, will be to hide our suspicions from him, and let him believe that we are his dupes." mrs. weldon was right. dick sand took her advice. however, negoro was called several times. he did not reply. either he was still too far away to hear, or he did not wish to return. the blacks did not regret being rid of his presence; but, as mrs. weldon had just said, perhaps he was still more to be feared afar than near. and, moreover, how explain that negoro would venture alone into that unknown country? had he then lost his way, and on this dark night was he vainly seeking the way to the grotto? mrs. weldon and dick sand did not know what to think. however it was, they could not, in order to wait for negoro, deprive themselves of a repose so necessary to all. at that moment the dog, which was running on the strand, barked aloud. "what is the matter with dingo?" asked mrs. weldon. "we must, indeed, find out," replied the novice. "perhaps it is negoro coming back." at once hercules, bat, austin, and dick sand took their way to the mouth of the river. but, arrived at the bank, they neither saw nor heard anything. dingo now was silent. dick sand and the blacks returned to the grotto. the going to sleep was organized as well as possible. each of the blacks prepared himself to watch in turn outside. but mrs. weldon, uneasy, could not sleep. it seemed to her that this land so ardently desired did not give her what she had been led to hope for, security for hers, and rest for herself. * * * * * chapter xv. harris. the next day, april th, austin, who was on guard at sunrise, saw dingo run barking to the little river. almost immediately mrs. weldon, dick sand and the blacks came out of the grotto. decidedly there was something there. "dingo has scented a living creature, man or beast," said the novice. "at all events it was not negoro," observed tom, "for dingo would bark with fury." "if it is not negoro, where can he be?" asked mrs. weldon, giving dick sand a look which was only understood by him; "and if it is not he, who, then, is it?" "we are going to see, mrs. weldon," replied the novice. then, addressing bat, austin, and hercules, "arm yourselves, my friends, and come!" each of the blacks took a gun and a cutlass, as dick sand had done. a cartridge was slipped into the breech of the remingtons, and, thus armed, all four went to the bank of the river. mrs. weldon, tom, and acteon remained at the entrance of the grotto, where little jack and nan still rested by themselves. the sun was then rising. his rays, intercepted by the high mountains in the east, did not reach the cliff directly; but as far as the western horizon, the sea sparkled under the first fires of day. dick sand and his companions followed the strand of the shore, the curve of which joined the mouth of the river. there dingo, motionless, and as if on guard, was continually barking. it was evident that he saw or scented some native. and, in fact, it was no longer against negoro, against its enemy on board the ship, that the dog had a grudge this time. at that moment a man turned the last plane of the cliff. he advanced prudently to the strand, and, by his familiar gestures, he sought to calm dingo. they saw that he did not care to face the anger of the vigorous animal. "it is not negoro!" said hercules. "we cannot lose by the change," replied bat. "no," said the novice. "it is probably some native, who will spare us the _ennui_ of a separation. we are at last going to know exactly where we are." and all four, putting their guns back on their shoulders, went rapidly toward the unknown. the latter, on seeing them approach, at first gave signs of the greatest surprise. very certainly, he did not expect to meet strangers on that part of the coast. evidently, also, he had not yet perceived the remains of the "pilgrim," otherwise the presence of the shipwrecked would very naturally be explained to him. besides, during the night the surf had finished demolishing the ship's hull; there was nothing left but the wrecks that floated in the offing. at the first moment the unknown, seeing four armed men marching toward him, made a movement as if he would retrace his steps. he carried a gun in a shoulder-belt, which passed rapidly into his hand, and from his hand to his shoulder. they felt that he was not reassured. dick sand made a gesture of salutation, which doubtless the unknown understood, for, after some hesitation, he continued to advance. dick sand could then examine him with attention. he was a vigorous man, forty years old at the most, his eyes bright, his hair and beard gray, his skin sunburnt like that of a nomad who has always lived in the open air, in the forest, or on the plain. a kind of blouse of tanned skin served him for a close coat, a large hat covered his head, leather boots came up above his knees, and spurs with large rowels sounded from their high heels. what dick sand noticed at first--and which was so, in fact--was that he had before him, not one of those indians, habitual rovers over the pampas, but one of those adventurers of foreign blood, often not very commendable, who are frequently met with in those distant countries. it also seemed, by his rather familiar attitude, by the reddish color of a few hairs of his beard, that this unknown must be of anglo-saxon origin. at all events, he was neither an indian nor a spaniard. and that appeared certain, when in answer to dick sand, who said to him in english, "welcome!" he replied in the same language and without any accent. "welcome yourself, my young friend," said the unknown, advancing toward the novice, whose hand he pressed. as to the blacks, he contented himself with making a gesture to them without speaking to them. "you are english?" he asked the novice. "americans," replied dick sand. "from the south?" "from the north." this reply seemed to please the unknown, who shook the novice's hand more vigorously and this time in very a american manner. "and may i know, my young friend," he asked, "how you find yourself on this coast?" but, at that moment, without waiting till the novice had replied to his question, the unknown took off his hat and bowed. mrs. weldon had advanced as far as the steep bank, and she then found herself facing him. it was she who replied to this question. "sir," said she, "we are shipwrecked ones whose ship was broken to pieces yesterday on these reefs." an expression of pity spread over the unknown's face, whose eyes sought the vessel which had been stranded. "there is nothing left of our ship," added the novice. "the surf has finished the work of demolishing it during the night." "and our first question," continued mrs. weldon, "will be to ask you where we are." "but you are on the sea-coast of south america," replied the unknown, who appeared surprised at the question. "can you have any doubt about that?" "yes, sir, for the tempest had been able to make us deviate from our route," replied dick sand. "but i shall ask where we are more exactly. on the coast of peru, i think." "no, my young friend, no! a little more to the south! you are wrecked on the bolivian coast." "ah!" exclaimed dick sand. "and you are even on that southern part of bolivia which borders on chili." "then what is that cape?" asked dick sand, pointing to the promontory on the north. "i cannot tell you the name," replied the unknown, "for if i know the country in the interior pretty well from having often traversed it, it is my first visit to this shore." dick sand reflected on what he had just learned. that only half astonished him, for his calculation might have, and indeed must have, deceived him, concerning the currents; but the error was not considerable. in fact, he believed himself somewhere between the twenty-seventh and the thirtieth parallel, from the bearings he had taken from the isle of paques, and it was on the twenty-fifth parallel that he was wrecked. there was no impossibility in the "pilgrim's" having deviated by relatively small digression, in such a long passage. besides, there was no reason to doubt the unknown's assertions, and, as that coast was that of lower bolivia there was nothing astonishing in its being so deserted. "sir," then said dick sand, "after your reply i must conclude that we are at a rather great distance from lima." "oh! lima is far away--over there--in the north!" mrs. weldon, made suspicious first of all by negoro's disappearance, observed the newly-arrived with extreme attention; but she could discover nothing, either in his attitude or in his manner of expressing himself which could lead her to suspect his good faith. "sir," said she, "without doubt my question is not rash. you do not seem to be of peruvian origin?" "i am american as you are, madam," said the unknown, who waited for an instant for the american lady to tell him her name. "mrs. weldon," replied the latter. "i? my name is harris and i was born in south carolina. but here it is twenty years since i left my country for the pampas of bolivia, and it gives me pleasure to see compatriots." "you live in this part of the province, mr. harris?" again asked mrs. weldon. "no, mrs. weldon," replied harris, "i live in the south, on the chilian frontier; but at this present moment i am going to atacama, in the northeast." "are we then on the borders of the desert of that name?" asked dick sand. "precisely, my young friend, and this desert extends far beyond the mountains which shut off the horizon." "the desert of atacama?" repeated dick sand. "yes," replied harris. "this desert is like a country by itself, in this vast south america, from which it differs in many respects. it is, at the same time, the most curious and the least known portion of this continent." "and you travel alone?" asked mrs. weldon. "oh, it is not the first time that i have taken this journey!" replied the american. "there is, two hundred miles from here, an important farm, the farm of san felice, which belongs to one of my brothers, and it is to his house that i am going for my trade. if you wish to follow me you will be well received, and the means of transport to gain the town of atacama will not fail you. my brother will be happy to furnish, them." these offers, made freely, could only prepossess in favor of the american, who immediately continued, addressing mrs. weldon: "these blacks are your slaves?" and he pointed to tom and his companions. "we have no longer any slaves in the united states," replied mrs. weldon, quickly. "the north abolished slavery long ago, and the south has been obliged to follow the example of the north!" "ah! that is so," replied harris. "i had forgotten that the war of had decided that grave question. i ask those honest men's pardon for it," added harris, with that delicate irony which a southerner must put into his language when speaking to blacks. "but on seeing those gentlemen in your service, i believed----" "they are not, and have never been, in my service, sir," replied mrs. weldon, gravely. "we should be honored in serving you, mrs. weldon," then said old tom. "but, as mr. harris knows, we do not belong to anybody. i have been a slave myself, it is true, and sold as such in africa, when i was only six years old; but my son bat, here, was born of an enfranchised father, and, as to our companions, they were born of free parents." "i can only congratulate you about it," replied harris, in a tone which mrs. weldon did not find sufficiently serious. "in this land of bolivia, also, we have no slaves. then you have nothing to fear, and you can go about as freely here as in the new england states." at that moment little jack, followed by nan, came out of the grotto rubbing his eyes. then, perceiving his mother, he ran to her. mrs. weldon embraced him tenderly. "the charming little boy!" said the american, approaching jack. "it is my son," replied mrs. weldon. "oh, mrs. weldon, you must have been doubly tried, because your child has been exposed to so many dangers." "god has brought him out of them safe and sound, as he has us, mr. harris," replied mrs. weldon. "will you permit me to kiss him on his pretty cheeks?" asked harris. "willingly," replied mrs. weldon. but mr. harris's face, it appeared, did not please little jack, for he clung more closely to his mother. "hold!" said harris, "you do not want me to embrace you? you are afraid of me, my good little man?" "excuse him, sir," mrs. weldon hastened to say. "it is timidity on his part." "good! we shall become better acquainted," replied harris. "once at the farm, he will amuse himself mounting a gentle pony, which will tell him good things of me." but the offer of the gentle pony did not succeed in cajoling jack any more than the proposition to embrace mr. harris. mrs. weldon, thus opposed, hastened to change the conversation. they must not offend a man who had so obligingly offered his services. during this time dick sand was reflecting on the proposition which had been made to them so opportunely, to gain the farm of san felice. it was, as harris had said, a journey of over two hundred miles, sometimes through forests, sometimes through plains--a very fatiguing journey, certainly, because there were absolutely no means of transport. the young novice then presented some observations to that effect, and waited for the reply the american was going to make. "the journey is a little long, indeed," replied harris, "but i have there, a few hundred feet behind the steep bank, a horse which i count on offering to mrs. weldon and her son. for us, there is nothing difficult, nor even very fatiguing in making the journey on foot. besides, when i spoke of two hundred miles, it was by following, as i have already done, the course of this river. but if we go through the forest, our distance will be shortened by at least eighty miles. now, at the rate of ten miles a day, it seems to me that we shall arrive at the farm without too much distress." mrs. weldon thanked the american. "you cannot thank me better than by accepting," replied harris. "though i have never crossed this forest, i do not believe i shall be embarrassed in finding the way, being sufficiently accustomed to the pampas. but there is a graver question--that of food. i have only what is barely enough for myself while on the way to the farm of san felice." "mr. harris," replied mrs. weldon, "fortunately we have food in more than sufficient quantity, and we shall be happy to share with you." "well, mrs. weldon, it seems to me that all is arranged for the best, and that we have only to set out." harris went toward the steep bank, with the intention of going to take his horse from the place where he had left it, when dick sand stopped him again, by asking him a question. to abandon the sea-coast, to force his way into the interior of the country, under that interminable forest, did not please the young novice. the sailor reappeared in him, and either to ascend or descend the coast would be more to his mind. "mr. harris," said he, "instead of traveling for one hundred and twenty miles in the desert of atacama, why not follow the coast? distance for distance, would it not be better worth while to seek to reach the nearest town, either north or south?" "but my young friend," replied harris, frowning slightly, "it seems to me that on this coast, which i know very imperfectly, there is no town nearer than three or four hundred miles." "to the north, yes," replied dick sand; "but to the south----" "to the south," replied the american, "we must descend as far as chili. now, the distance is almost as long, and, in your place, i should not like to pass near the pampas of the argentine republic. as to me, to my great regret, i could not accompany you there." "the ships which go from chili to peru, do they not pass, then, in sight of this coast?" asked mrs. weldon. "no," replied harris. "they keep much more out at sea, and you ought not to meet any of them." "truly," replied mrs. weldon. "well, dick, have you still some question to ask mr. harris?" "a single one, mrs. weldon," replied the novice, who experienced some difficulty in giving up. "i shall ask mr. harris in what port he thinks we shall be able to find a ship to bring us back to san francisco?" "faith, my young friend, i could not tell you," replied the american. "all that i know is, that at the farm of san felice we will furnish you with the means of gaining the town of atacama, and from there----" "mr. harris," then said mrs. weldon, "do not believe that dick sand hesitates to accept your offers." "no, mrs. weldon, no; surely i do not hesitate," replied the young novice; "but i cannot help regretting not being stranded a few degrees farther north or farther south. we should have been in proximity to a port, and that circumstance, in facilitating our return to our country, would prevent us from taxing mr. harris's good will." "do not fear imposing upon me, mrs. weldon," returned harris. "i repeat to you that too rarely have i occasion to find myself again in the presence of my compatriots. for me it is a real pleasure to oblige you." "we accept your offer, mr. harris," replied mrs. weldon; "but i should not wish, however, to deprive you of your horse. i am a good walker----" "and i am a very good walker," replied harris, bowing. "accustomed to long journeys across the pampas, it is not i who will keep back our caravan. no, mrs. weldon, you and your little jack will use this horse. besides, it is possible that we may meet some of the farm servants on the way, and, as they will be mounted--well, they will yield their horses to us." dick sand saw well that in making new objections he would oppose mrs. weldon. "mr. harris," said he, "when do we set out?" "even to-day, my young friend," replied harris. "the bad season commences with the month of april, and it is of the utmost importance for you to reach the farm of san felice first. finally, the way across the forest is the shortest, and perhaps the safest. it is less exposed than the coast to the incursions of wandering indians, who are indefatigable robbers." "tom, my friends," replied dick sand, turning to the blacks, "it only remains for us to make preparations for departure. let us select, then, from among the provisions on hand, those which can be most easily transported, and let us make packs, of which each will take his share." "mr. dick," said hercules, "if you wish, i shall carry the whole load very well." "no, my brave hercules," replied the novice; "it will be better for us all to share the burden." "you are a strong companion, hercules," then said harris, who looked at the negro as if the latter were for sale. "in the markets of africa you would be worth a good price." "i am worth what i am worth," replied hercules, laughing, "and the buyers will only have to run well, if they wish to catch me." all was agreed upon, and to hasten the departure, each went to work. however, they had only to think of feeding the little troop for the journey from the sea-coast to the farm, that is to say, for a march of ten days. "but, before setting out, mr. harris," said mrs. weldon, "before accepting your hospitality, i beg you to accept ours. we offer it to you with our best wishes." "i accept, mrs. weldon; i accept with eagerness," replied harris, gayly. "in a few minutes our breakfast will be ready." "good, mrs. weldon. i am going to profit by those ten minutes to go and get my horse and bring it here. he will have breakfasted, he will." "do you want me to go with you, sir?" asked dick sand. "as you please, my young friend," replied harris. "come; i shall make you acquainted with the lower course of this river." both set out. during this time, hercules was sent in search of the entomologist. faith, cousin benedict was very uneasy indeed about what was passing around him. he was then wandering on the summit of the cliff in quest of an "unfindable" insect, which, however, he did not find. hercules brought him back against his will. mrs. weldon informed him that departure was decided upon, and that, for ten days, they must travel to the interior of the country. cousin benedict replied that he was ready to set out, and that he would not ask better than to cross america entirely, provided they would let him "collect" on the way. mrs. weldon then occupied herself, with nan's assistance, in preparing a comfortable repast--a good precaution before setting out. during this time, harris, accompanied by dick sand, had turned the angle of the cliff. both followed the high bank, over a space of three hundred steps. there, a horse, tied to a tree, gave joyous neighing at the approach of his master. it was a vigorous beast, of a species that dick sand could not recognize. neck and shoulders long, loins short, and hindquarters stretched out, shoulders flat, forehead almost pointed. this horse offered, however, distinctive signs of those races to which we attribute an arabian origin. "you see, my young friend," said harris, "that it is a strong animal, and you may count on it not failing you on the route." harris detached his horse, took it by the bridle, and descended the steep bank again, preceding dick sand. the latter had thrown a rapid glance, as well over the river as toward the forest which shut up its two banks. but he saw nothing of a nature to make him uneasy. however, when he had rejoined the american, he suddenly gave him the following question, which the latter could little expect: "mr. harris," he asked, "you have not met a portuguese, named negoro, in the night?" "negoro?" replied harris, in the tone of a man who does not understand what is said. "who is this negoro?" "he was the cook on board," replied dick sand, "and he has disappeared." "drowned, perhaps," said harris. "no, no," replied dick sand. "yesterday evening he was still with us, but during the night he has left us, and he has probably ascended the steep bank of this river. so i asked you, who have come from that side, if you had not met him." "i have met nobody," replied the american; "and if your cook has ventured alone into the forest, he runs a great risk of going astray. perhaps we shall overtake him on the way." "yes; perhaps!" replied dick sand. when the two returned to the grotto, breakfast was ready. it was composed, like the supper of the evening before, of alimentary conserves, of corned beef and of biscuit. harris did honor to it, like a man whom nature had endowed with a great appetite. "let us go," said he; "i see that we shall not die of hunger on the way! i shall not say as much for that poor devil of a portuguese, of whom our young friend has spoken." "ah!" said mrs. weldon, "dick sand has told you that we have not seen negoro again?" "yes, mrs. weldon," replied the novice. "i desired to know if mr. harris had not met him." "no," replied harris; "so let us leave that deserter where he is, and think of our departure--whenever you are ready, mrs. weldon." each took the pack which was intended for him. mrs. weldon, assisted by hercules, placed herself on the horse, and the ungrateful little jack, with his gun strapped on his back, straddled the animal without even thinking of thanking him who had put that excellent beast at his disposal. jack, placed before his mother, then said to her that he would know how to lead the gentleman's horse very well. they then gave him the bridle to hold, and he did not doubt that he was the veritable head of the caravan. * * * * * chapter xvi. on the way. it was not without a certain apprehension--nothing seemed to justify it, however--that dick sand, three hundred steps from the steep bank of the river, penetrated into the thick forest, the difficult paths of which he and his companions were going to follow for ten days. on the contrary, mrs. weldon herself, a woman and a mother, whom the perils would make doubly anxious, had every confidence. two very serious motives had contributed to reassure her; first, because this region of the pampas was neither very formidable on account of the natives, nor on account of the animals which were found there; next, because, under the direction of harris, of a guide so sure of himself as the american appeared to be, they could not be afraid of going astray. here is the order of proceeding, which, as far as possible, would be observed during the journey: dick sand and harris, both armed, one with his long gun, the other with a remington, kept at the head of the little troop. then came bat and austin, also armed, each with a gun and a cutlass. behind them followed mrs. weldon and little jack, on horseback; then nan and tom. in the rear, acteon, armed with the fourth remington, and hercules, with a hatchet in his belt, closed the march. dingo went backwards and forwards, and, as dick sand remarked, always like an uneasy dog seeking a scent. the dog's ways had visibly changed since the "pilgrim's" shipwreck had cast it on this sea-coast. it seemed agitated, and almost incessantly it kept up a dull grumbling, rather lamentable than furious. that was remarked by all, though no one could explain it. as to cousin benedict, it had been as impossible to assign him an order of marching as dingo. unless he had been held by a string, he would not have kept it. his tin box strapped to his shoulder, his net in his hand, his large magnifying glass suspended to his neck, sometimes behind, sometimes in front, he scampered away among the high herbs, watching for orthopters or any other insect in "pter," at the risk of being bit by some venomous serpent. during the first hour mrs. weldon, uneasy, called him back twenty times. it was no use. "cousin benedict," she finished by saying to him, "i beg you very seriously not to go far away, and i urge you for the last time to pay attention to my entreaties." "meanwhile, cousin," replied the intractable entomologist, "when i perceive an insect?" "when you perceive an insect," replied mrs. weldon, "you would do well to let it go in peace, or you will put me under the necessity of taking your box away from you." "take away my box!" cried cousin benedict, as if it were a question of snatching away his heart. "your box and your net," added mrs. weldon, pitilessly. "my net, cousin! and why not my glasses? you will not dare! no; you will not dare!" "even, your glasses, which i forgot. i thank you, cousin benedict, for reminding me that i have that means of making you blind, and, in that way, forcing you to be wise." this triple menace had the effect of making him keep quiet--this unsubmissive cousin--for about an hour. then he began to go away again, and, as he would do the same, even without net, without box, and without glasses, they were obliged to let him do as he pleased. but hercules undertook to watch him closely--which quite naturally became one of his duties--and it was agreed that he would act with cousin benedict as the latter would with an insect; that is, that he would catch him, if necessary, and bring him back as delicately as the other would with the rarest of the lepidopters. that rule made, they troubled themselves no more about cousin benedict. the little troop, it has been seen, was well armed, and guarded itself carefully. but, as harris repeated, there was no encounter to fear except with wandering indians, and they would probably see none. at all events, the precautions taken would suffice to keep them respectful. the paths which wound across the thick forest did not merit that name. they were rather the tracks of animals than the tracks of men. they could only be followed with difficulty. so, in fixing the average distance that the little troop would make in a march of twelve hours at only five or six miles, harris had calculated wisely. the weather, however, was very fine. the sun mounted toward the zenith, spreading in waves his almost perpendicular rays. on the plain this heat would be unbearable, harris took care to remark; but, under those impenetrable branches, they bore it easily and with impunity. the greater part of the trees of this forest were unknown, as well to mrs. weldon as to her companions, black or white. however, an expert would remark that they were more remarkable for their quality than for their height. here, it was the "banhinia," or iron wood; there, the "molompi," identical with the "pterocarpe," a solid and light wood, fit for making the spoons used in sugar manufactories or oars, from the trunk of which exuded an abundant resin; further on, "fusticks," or yellow wood, well supplied with coloring materials, and lignum-vitæs, measuring as much as twelve feet in diameter, but inferior in quality to the ordinary lignum-vitæs. while walking, dick sand asked harris the name of these different trees. "then you have never been on the coast of south america?" harris asked him before replying to his question. "never," replied the novice; "never, during my voyages, have i had occasion to visit these coasts, and to say the truth, i do not believe that anybody who knew about them has ever spoken to me of them." "but have you at least explored the coasts of colombia, those of chili, or of patagonia?" "no, never." "but perhaps mrs. weldon has visited this part of the new continent?" asked harris. "americans do not fear voyages, and doubtless----" "no, mr. harris," replied mrs. weldon. "the commercial interests of my husband have never called him except to new zealand, and i have not had to accompany him elsewhere. not one of us, then, knows this portion of lower bolivia." "well, mrs. weldon, you and your companions will see a singular country, which contrasts strangely with the regions of peru, of brazil, or of the argentine republic. its flora and fauna would astonish a naturalist. ah! we may say that you have been shipwrecked at a good place, and if we may ever thank chance----" "i wish to believe that it is not chance which has led us here, but god, mr. harris." "god! yes! god!" replied harris, in the tone of a man who takes little account of providential intervention in the things of this world. then, since nobody in the little troop knew either the country or its productions, harris took a pleasure in naming pleasantly the most curious trees of the forest. in truth, it was a pity that, in cousin benedict's case, the entomologist was not supplemented by the botanist! if, up to this time, he had hardly found insects either rare or new, he might have made fine discoveries in botany. there was, in profusion, vegetation of all heights, the existence of which in the tropical forests of the new world had not been yet ascertained. cousin benedict would certainly have attached his name to some discovery of this kind. but he did not like botany--he knew nothing about it. he even, quite naturally, held flowers in aversion, under the pretext that some of them permit themselves to imprison the insects in their corollas, and poison them with their venomous juices. at times, the forest became marshy. they felt under foot quite a network of liquid threads, which would feed the affluents of the little river. some of the rills, somewhat large, could only be crossed by choosing fordable places. on their banks grew tufts of reeds, to which harris gave the name of papyrus. he was not mistaken, and those herbaceous plants grew abundantly below the damp banks. then, the marsh passed, thickets of trees again covered the narrow routes of the forest. harris made mrs. weldon and dick sand remark some very fine ebony-trees, much larger than the common ebony-tree, which furnish a wood much blacker and much stronger than that of commerce. then there were mango-trees, still numerous, though they were rather far from the sea. a kind of fur of white moss climbed them as far as the branches. their thick shade and their delicious fruit made them precious trees, and meanwhile, according to harris, not a native would dare to propagate the species. "whoever plants a mango-tree dies!" such is the superstitious maxim of the country. during the second half of this first day of the journey, the little troop, after the midday halt, began to ascend land slightly inclined. they were not as yet the slopes of the chain of the first plane, but a sort of undulating plateau which connected the plain with the mountain. there the trees, a little less compact, sometimes clustered in groups, would have rendered the march easier, if the soil had not been invaded by herbaceous plants. one might believe himself in the jungles of oriental india. vegetation appeared to be less luxuriant than in the lower valley of the little river, but it was still superior to that of the temperate regions of the old or of the new world. indigo was growing there in profusion, and, according to harris, this leguminous plant passed with reason for the most usurping plant of the country. if a field came to be abandoned, this parasite, as much despised as the thistle or the nettle, took possession of it immediately. one tree seemed lacking in this forest, which ought to be very common in this part of the new continent; it was the caoutchouc-tree. in fact, the "ficus primoides," the "castilloa elastica," the "cecropia peltats," the "collophora utilis," the "cameraria letifolia," and above all, the "syphonia elastica," which belong to different families, abound in the provinces of south america. and meanwhile, a rather singular thing, there was not a single one to be seen. now, dick sand had particularly promised his friend jack to show him some caoutchouc trees. so a great deception for the little boy, who figured to himself that gourds, speaking babies, articulate punchinellos, and elastic balloons grew quite naturally on those trees. he complained. "patience, my good little man," replied harris. "we shall find some of those caoutchoucs, and by hundreds, in the neighborhood of the farm." "handsome ones, very elastic?" asked little jack. "the most elastic there are. hold! while waiting, do you want a good fruit to take away your thirst?" and, while speaking, harris went to gather from a tree some fruits, which seemed to be as pleasant to the taste as those from the peach-tree. "are you very sure, mr. harris," asked mrs. weldon, "that this fruit can do no harm?" "mrs. weldon, i am going to convince you," replied the american, who took a large mouthful of one of those fruits. "it is a mango." and little jack, without any more pressing, followed harris's example, he declared that it was very good, "those pears," and the tree was at once put under contribution. those mangos belonged to a species whose fruit is ripe in march and april, others being so only in september, and, consequently, their mangos were just in time. "yes, it is good, good, good!" said little jack, with his mouth full. "but my friend dick has promised me caoutchoucs, if i was very good, and i want caoutchoucs!" "you will have them, jack," replied mrs. weldon, "because mr. harris assures you of it." "but that is not all," went on jack. "my friend dick has promised me some other thing!" "what then, has friend dick promised?" asked harris, smiling. "some humming-birds, sir." "and you shall have some humming-birds, my good little man, but farther on--farther on," replied harris. the fact is that little jack had a right to claim some of these charming creatures, for he was now in a country where they should abound. the indians, who know how to weave their feathers artistically, have lavished the most poetical names on those jewels of the flying race. they call them either the "rays" or the "hairs of the sun." here, it is "the little king of the flowers;" there, "the celestial flower that comes in its flight to caress the terrestrial flower." it is again "the bouquet of jewels, which sparkles in the fire of the day." it can be believed that their imagination would know how to furnish a new poetical appellation for each of the one hundred and fifty species which constitute this marvelous tribe of humming-birds. meanwhile, however numerous these humming-birds might be in the forests of bolivia, little jack was obliged to still content himself with harris's promise. according to the american, they were still too close to the coast, and the humming-birds did not like these deserts so near the ocean. the presence of man did not frighten them at the "hacienda;" they heard nothing all day but their cry of "teretere" and the murmur of their wings, similar to that of a spinning-wheel. "ah! how i should like to be there!" cried little jack. the surest method of getting there--to the "hacienda" of san felice--was not to stop on the road. mrs. weldon and her companions only took the time absolutely necessary for repose. the aspect of the forest already changed. between the less crowded trees large clearings opened here and there. the sun, piercing the green carpet, then showed its structure of red, syenite granite, similar to slabs of lapis-lazuli. on some heights the sarsaparilla abounded, a plant with fleshy tubercles, which formed an inextricable tangle. the forest, with the narrow paths, was better for them. before sunset the little troop were about eight miles from the point of departure. this journey had been made without accident, and even without great fatigue. it is true, it was the first journey on the march, and no doubt the following halting places would be rougher. by a common consent they decided to make a halt at this place. the question then was, not to establish a real camp, but to simply organize a resting-place. one man on guard, relieved every two hours, would suffice to watch during the night, neither the natives nor the deer being truly formidable. they found nothing better for shelter than an enormous mango-tree, whose large branches, very bushy, formed a kind of natural veranda. if necessary, they could nestle in the branches. only, on the arrival of the little troop, a deafening concert arose from the top of the tree. the mango served as a perch for a colony of gray parrots, prattling, quarrelsome, ferocious birds, which set upon living birds, and those who would judge them from their congeners which europe keeps in cages, would be singularly mistaken. these parrots jabbered with such a noise that dick sand thought of firing at them to oblige them to be silent, or to put them to flight. but harris dissuaded him, under the pretext that in these solitudes it was better not to disclose his presence by the detonation of a fire-arm. "let us pass along without noise," he said, "and we shall pass along without danger." supper was prepared at once, without any need of proceeding to cook food. it was composed of conserves and biscuit. a little rill, which wound under the plants, furnished drinkable water, which they did not drink without improving it with a few drops of rum. as to _dessert_, the mango was there with its juicy fruit, which the parrots did not allow to be picked without protesting with their abominable cries. at the end of the supper it began to be dark. the shade rose slowly from the ground to the tops of the trees, from which the foliage soon stood out like a fine tracery on the more luminous background of the sky. the first stars seemed to be shining flowers, which twinkled at the end of the last branches. the wind went down with the night, and no longer trembled in the branches of the trees. the parrots themselves had become mute. nature was going to rest, and inviting every living being to follow her in this deep sleep. preparations for retiring had to be of a very primitive character. "shall we not light a large fire for the night?" dick sand asked the american. "what's the good?" replied harris. "fortunately the nights are not cold, and this enormous mango will preserve the soil from all evaporation. we have neither cold nor dampness to fear. i repeat, my young friend, what i told you just now. let us move along incognito. no more fire than gunshots, if possible." "i believe, indeed," then said mrs. weldon, "that we have nothing to fear from the indians--even from those wanderers of the woods, of whom you have spoken, mr. harris. but, are there not other four-footed wanderers, that the sight of a fire would help to keep at a distance?" "mrs. weldon," replied the american, "you do too much honor to the deer of this country. indeed, they fear man more than he fears them." "we are in a wood," said jack, "and there is always beasts in the woods." "there are woods and woods, my good little man, as there are beasts and beasts," replied harris, laughing. "imagine that you are in the middle of a large park. truly, it is not without reason that the indians say of this country, 'es como el pariso!' it is like an earthly paradise!" "then there are serpents?" said jack. "no, my jack," replied mrs. weldon, "there are no serpents, and you may sleep tranquilly." "and lions?" asked jack. "not the ghost of a lion, my good little man," replied harris. "tigers, then?" "ask your mama if she has ever heard tell of tigers on this continent." "never," replied mrs. weldon. "good!" said cousin benedict, who, by chance, was listening to the conversation: "if there are neither lions nor tigers in the new world, which is perfectly true, we at least encounter cougars and jaguars." "are they bad?" asked little jack. "phew!" replied harris; "a native has little fear of attacking those animals, and we are strong. stay! hercules would be strong enough to crush two jaguars at once, one in each hand!" "you will watch well, hercules," then said little jack, "and if a beast comes to bite us----" "it is i who will bite it, mr. jack!" replied hercules, showing his mouth, armed with superb teeth. "yes, you will watch, hercules," said the novice, "but your companions and i will relieve you, turn about." "no, mr. dick," replied acteon, "hercules, bat, austin, and i, we four will be enough for this labor. you must rest the whole night." "thank you, acteon," replied dick sand, "but i ought to----" "no! let those brave men do it, my dear dick!" then said mrs. weldon. "i, also; i shall watch!" added little jack, whose eyelids were already closing. "yes, my jack, yes, you will watch!" replied his mother, who did not wish to contradict him. "but," the little boy said again, "if there are no lions, if there are no tigers in the forest, there are wolves!" "oh! wolves in jest!" replied the american. "they are not even wolves, but kinds of foxes, or rather of those dogs of the woods which they call 'guaras.'" "and those _guaras_, they bite?" asked little jack. "bah! dingo would make only one mouthful of those beasts!" "never mind," replied jack, with a last yawn; "guaras are wolves, because they are called wolves!" and with that jack fell asleep peaceably in nan's arms, beside the trunk of the mango. mrs. weldon, lying near her, gave a last kiss to her little boy, and her tired eyes quickly closed for the night. a few moments later hercules brought back to the camp cousin benedict, who had just gone off to commence a chase for pyrophores. they are "cocuyos," or luminous flies, which the stylish put in their hair, like so many living gems. these insects which throw a bright and bluish light from two spots situated at the base of their corselet, are very numerous in south america. cousin benedict then counted on making a large collection, but hercules did not leave him time, and, in spite of his recriminations, the negro brought him to the halting-place. that was because, when hercules had orders, he executed them with military preciseness, which, no doubt, prevented the incarceration of a notable quantity of luminous flies in the entomologist's tin box. a few moments after, with the exception of the giant, who was watching, all were reposing in a profound sleep. chapter xvii. a hundred miles in two days. generally, travelers or ramblers in the woods, who have slept in the forests under the lovely stars, are awakened by howlings as fantastic as disagreeable. there is everything in this morning concert: clucking, grunting, croaking, sneering, barking, and almost "speaking," if one may make use of this word, which completes the series of different noises. there are the monkeys who thus salute the daybreak. there we meet the little "marikina," the marmoset with a speckled mask; the "mono gris," the skin of which the indians use to recover the batteries of their guns; the "sagous," recognizable from their long bunches of hair, and many others, specimens of this numerous family. of these various four-handed animals, the most remarkable are decidedly the "gueribas," with curling tails and a face like beelzebub. when the sun rises, the oldest of the band, with an imposing and mysterious voice, sings a monotonous psalm. it is the baritone of the troop. the young tenors repeat after him the morning symphony. the indians say then that the "gueribas" recite their _pater-nosters_. but, on this day, it seemed that the monkeys did not offer their prayer, for no one heard them; and, meanwhile, their voice is loud, for it is produced by the rapid vibration of a kind of bony drum, formed by a swelling of the hyoides bone in the neck. in short, for one reason or for another, neither the "gueribas," nor the "sagous," nor any other four-handed animals of this immense forest, sang, on this morning, their usual concert. this would not have satisfied the wandering indians. not that these natives appreciate this kind of strange choral music, but they willingly give chase to the monkeys, and if they do, it is because the flesh of this animal is excellent, above all, when it is smoke-dried. dick sand, of course, could not be familiar with the habits of the "gueribas," neither were his companions, or this not hearing them would have undoubtedly been a subject of surprise. they awoke then, one after the other, much refreshed by these few hours of repose, which no alarm had come to disturb. little jack was not the last to stretch his arms. his first question was, to ask if hercules had eaten a wolf during the night. no wolf had shown himself, and consequently hercules had not yet breakfasted. all, besides, were fasting like him, and after the morning prayer, nan occupied herself preparing the repast. the bill of fare was that of the supper of the night before, but with appetites sharpened by the morning air of the forest, no one dreamed of being difficult to please. it was necessary, above all, to gather strength for a good day's march, and they did it. for the first time, perhaps, cousin benedict comprehended that to eat was not an action indifferent or useless to life; only, he declared that he had not come to "visit" this country to walk with his hands in his pockets, and that, if hercules prevented him from chasing the "cocuyos," and other luminous flies, hercules would have some trouble with him. this threat did not seem to frighten the giant to any great extent. however, mrs. weldon took him aside and told him that, perhaps, he might allow his big baby to run to the right and left, but on condition that he did not lose sight of him. it would not do to completely sever cousin benedict from the pleasures so natural to his age. at seven o'clock in the morning, the little troop took up their journey toward the east, preserving the order of march that had been adopted the previous day. it was always the forest. on this virgin soil, where the heat and the moisture agreed to produce vegetation, it might well be thought that the reign of growth appeared in all its power. the parallel of this vast plateau was almost confounded with tropical latitudes, and, during certain months in summer, the sun, in passing to the zenith, darted its perpendicular rays there. there was, therefore, an enormous quantity of imprisoned heat in this earth, of which the subsoil preserved the damp. also, nothing could be more magnificent than this succession of forests, or rather this interminable forest. meanwhile, dick sand had not failed to observe this--that, according to harris, they were in the region of the pampas. now, pampas is a word from the "quichna" language, which signifies a plain. now, if his recollections did not deceive him, he believed that these plains presented the following characteristics: lack of water, absence of trees, a failure of stones, an almost luxuriant abundance of thistles during the rainy season, thistles which became almost shrubby with the warm season, and then formed impenetrable thickets; then, also, dwarf trees, thorny shrubs, the whole giving to these plains a rather arid and desolate aspect. now, it had not been thus, since the little troop, guided by the american, had left the coast. the forest had not ceased to spread to the limits of the horizon. no, this was not the pampas, such as the young novice had imagined them. had nature, as harris had told him, been able to make a region apart from the plateau of atacama, of which he knew nothing, if it did not form one of the most vast deserts of south america, between the andes and the pacific ocean? on that day dick sand propounded some questions on this subject, and expressed to the american the surprise he felt at this singular appearance of the pampas. but he was quickly undeceived by harris, who gave him the most exact details about this part of bolivia, thus witnessing to his great knowledge of the country. "you are right, my young friend," he said to the novice. "the true pampa is indeed such as the books of travels have depicted it to you, that is, a plain rather arid, and the crossing of which is often difficult. it recalls our savannahs of north america--except that these are a little marshy. yes, such is indeed the pampa of the rio colorado, such are the "llanos" of the orinoco and of venezuela. but here, we are in a country, the appearance of which even astonishes me. it is true, it is the first time i have followed this route across the plateau, a route which has the advantage of shortening our journey. but, if i have not yet seen it, i know that it presents an extraordinary contrast to the veritable pampa. as to this one, you would find it again, not between the cordilleras of the west and the high chain of the andes, but beyond the mountains, over all that eastern part of the continent which extends as far as the atlantic." "must we then clear the andes range?" dick sand asked, quickly. "no, my young friend, no," replied the american, smiling. "so i said: you _would_ find it again, and not: you _will_ find it again. be reassured, we shall not leave this plateau, the greatest elevations of which do not exceed fifteen hundred feet. ah! if it had been necessary to cross the cordilleras with only the means of transport at our disposal, i should never have drawn you into such an undertaking." "in fact," replied dick sand, "it would be better to ascend or descend the coast." "oh! a hundred times!" replied harris. "but the farm of san felice is situated on this side of the cordilleras. so, then, our journey, neither in its first nor in its second part, will offer any real difficulty." "and you do not fear going astray in these forests, which you cross for the first time?" asked dick sand. "no, my young friend, no," replied harris. "i know indeed that this forest is like an immense sea, or rather like the bottom of a sea, where a sailor himself could not take the latitude nor recognize his position. but accustomed to traveling in the woods, i know how to find my route only by the inclination of certain trees, by the direction of their leaves, by the movement or the composition of the soil, by a thousand details which escape you! be sure of it, i will lead you, you and yours, where you ought to go!" all these things were said very clearly by harris. dick sand and he, at the head of the troop, often talked without any one mingling in their conversation. if the novice felt some doubts that the american did not always succeed in scattering, he preferred to keep them to himself. the th, th, th, th, and th of april passed in this manner, without any incident to mark the journey. they did not make more than eight to nine miles in twelve hours. the times consecrated to eating or repose came at regular intervals, and though a little fatigue was felt already, the sanitary condition was still very satisfactory. little jack began to suffer a little from this life in the woods, to which he was not accustomed, and which was becoming very monotonous for him. and then all the promises which had been made him had not been kept. the caoutchouc jumping-jacks, the humming-birds, all those seemed constantly to recede. there had also been a question of showing him the most beautiful parrots in the world, and they ought not to be wanting in these rich forests. where, then, were the popinjays with green plumage, almost all originally from these countries, the _aras_, with naked cheeks, with long pointed tails, with glittering colors, whose paws never rest on the earth, and the "camindes," which are more peculiar to tropical countries, and the many-colored she-parrots, with feathered faces, and finally all those prattling birds which, according to the indians, still speak the language of extinct tribes? of parrots, little jack only saw ash-gray jakos, with red tails, which abounded under the trees. but these jakos were not new to him. they have transported them into all parts of the world. on the two continents they fill the houses with their insupportable chattering, and, of all the family of the "psittacius," they are the ones which learn to speak most easily. it must be said, besides, that if jack was not contented, cousin benedict was no more so. he had been allowed to wander a little to the right or to the left during the march. however, he had not found any insect which was fit to enrich his collection. even the "pyrophores" obstinately refused to show themselves to him, and attract him by the phosphorescences of their corselet. nature seemed truly to mock the unhappy entomologist, whose temper was becoming cross. for four days more the march toward the northeast was continued in the same way. on the th of april the distance traversed from the coast could not be estimated at less than one hundred miles. if harris had not gone astray--and he affirmed it without hesitation--the farm of san felice was no more than twenty miles from the halting place of that day. before forty-eight hours the little troop then would have a comfortable shelter where its members could at last repose from their fatigues. meanwhile, though the plateau had been almost entirely crossed in its middle part, not a native, not a wanderer had been encountered under the immense forest. more than once, without saying anything about it, dick sand regretted being unable to go ashore on some other point of the coast. more to the south, or more to the north, villages, hamlets, or plantations would not have been lacking, and long before this mrs. weldon and her companions would have found an asylum. but, if the country seemed to be abandoned by man, animals showed themselves more frequently during these last days. at times was heard a kind of long, plaintive cry, that harris attributed to some of those large tardi-grades, habitual denizens of those vast wooded regions, named "ais." on that day, also, during the midday halt, a hissing passed through the air, which made mrs. weldon very uneasy, because it was so strange. "what is that?"' she asked, rising hastily. "a serpent!" cried dick sand, who gun, in hand, threw himself before mrs. weldon. they might fear, in fact, that some reptile would glide among the plants to the halting place. it would be nothing astonishing if it were one of those enormous "sucurus," kinds of boas, which sometimes measure forty feet in length. but harris reminded dick sand that the blacks were already following, and he reassured mrs. weldon. according to him, that hissing could not be produced by a "sucuru," because that serpent does not hiss; but he indicated the presence of several inoffensive quadrupeds, rather numerous in that country. "be reassured, then," said he, "and make no movement which may frighten those animals." "but what are they?" asked dick sand, who made it like a law of conscience to interrogate and make the american speak--who, however, never required pressing before replying. "they are antelopes, my young friend," replied harris. "oh! how i should like to see them!" cried jack. "that is very difficult, my good little man," replied the american, "very difficult." "perhaps we may try to approach than--those hissing antelopes?" returned dick sand. "oh! you will not take three steps," replied the american, shaking his head, "before the whole band will take flight. i beg of you, then, not to trouble yourself." but dick sand had his reasons for being curious. he wished to see, and, gun in hand, he glided among the herbs. immediately a dozen graceful gazelles, with small, sharp horns, passed with the rapidity of a water-spout. their hair, bright red, looked like a cloud of fire under the tall underwood of the forest. "i had warned you," said harris, when the novice returned to take his place. those antelopes were so light of foot, that it had been truly impossible to distinguish them; but it was not so with another troop of animals which was signaled the same day. those could be seen--imperfectly, it is true--but their apparition led to a rather singular discussion between harris and some of his companions. the little troop, about four o'clock in the afternoon, had stopped for a moment near an opening in the woods, when three or four animals of great height went out of a thicket a hundred steps off, and scampered away at once with remarkable speed. in spite of the american's recommendations, this time the novice, having quickly shouldered his gun, fired at one of these animals. but at the moment when the charge was going off, the weapon had been rapidly turned aside by harris, and dick sand, skilful as he was, had missed his aim. "no firing; no firing!" said the american. "ah, now, but those are giraffes!" cried dick sand, without otherwise replying to harris's observation. "giraffes!" repeated jack, standing up on the horse's saddle. "where are they, the large beasts?" "giraffes!" replied mrs. weldon. "you are mistaken, my dear dick. there are no giraffes in america." "indeed," said harris, who appeared rather surprised, "there cannot be any giraffes in this country." "what, then?" said dick sand. "i really do not know what to think," replied harris. "have not your eyes deceived you, my young friend, and are not those animals more likely to be ostriches?" "ostriches!" repeated dick sand and mrs. weldon, looking at each other in great surprise. "yes, only ostriches," repeated harris. "but ostriches are birds," returned dick sand, "and consequently they have only two feet." "well," replied harris, "i indeed thought i saw that those animals, which have just made off so rapidly, were bipeds." "bipeds!" replied the novice. "indeed it seemed to me that i saw animals with four legs," then said mrs. weldon. "i also," added old tom; then bat, acteon, and austin confirmed those words. "ostriches with four legs!" cried harris, with a burst of laughter. "that would be ridiculous!" "so," returned dick sand, "we have believed they were giraffes, and not ostriches." "no, my young friend, no," said harris. "you have certainly seen badly. that is explained by the rapidity with which those animals have flown away. besides, it has happened more than once that hunters have been deceived like you, and in the best faith in the world." what the american said was very plausible. between an ostrich of great height and a giraffe of medium height, seen at a certain distance, it is easy to make a mistake. if it were a question of a beak or a nose, both are none the less joined to the end of a long neck turned backward, and, strictly speaking, it may be said that an ostrich is only a half giraffe. it only needs the hind legs. then, this biped and this quadruped, passing rapidly, on a sudden may, very properly, be taken one for the other. besides, the best proof that mrs. weldon and the others were mistaken was that there are no giraffes in america. dick sand then made this reflection: "but i believed that ostriches were not met with in the new world any more than giraffes." "yes, my young friend," replied harris; "and, indeed, south america possesses a peculiar species. to this species belongs the 'nandon,' which you have just seen." harris spoke the truth. the "nandon" is a long-legged bird, rather common in the plains of south america, and its flesh, when it is young, is good to eat. this strong animal, whose height sometimes exceeds two meters, has a straight beak; wings long, and formed of tufted feathers of a bluish shade; feet formed of three claws, furnished with nails--which essentially distinguishes it from the ostriches of africa. these very exact details were given by harris, who appeared to be very strongly posted on the manners of the "nandons." mrs. weldon and her companions were obliged to acknowledge that they had been deceived. "besides," added harris, "possibly we may encounter another band of these ostriches. well, next time look better, and no longer allow yourselves to takes birds for quadrupeds! but above all, my young friend, do not forget my recommendations, and do not fire on any animal whatsoever. we have no need of hunting to procure food, and no detonation of a fire-arm must announce our presence in this forest." meanwhile dick sand remained pensive. once more a doubt had just arisen on his mind. the next day, april th, the march was continued, and the american affirmed that twenty-four hours would not pass before the little troop should be installed at the farm of san felice. "there, mrs. weldon," added he, "you will receive all the care necessary to your position, and a few days' rest will quite restore you. perhaps you will not find at this farm the luxury to which you are accustomed in your residence in san francisco, but you will see that our improved lands in the interior do not lack what is comfortable. we are not absolutely savages." "mr. harris," replied mrs. weldon, "if we have only thanks to offer you for your generous resort, at least we shall offer them to you with all our hearts. yes! it is time for us to arrive there!" "you are very much fatigued, mrs. weldon?" "i, no matter!" replied mrs. weldon; "but i perceive that my little jack is gradually becoming exhausted! the fever begins to affect him at certain hours!" "yes," replied harris, "and although the climate of this plateau is very healthful, it must be acknowledged that in march and april intermittent fevers reign." "doubtless," then said dick sand, "but also nature, who is always and everywhere provident, has put the remedy near the evil!" "and how is that, my young friend?" asked harris, who did not seem to understand. "are we not, then, in the region of the quinquinas?" replied dick sand. "in fact," said harris, "you are perfectly right. the trees which furnish, the precious febrifuge bark are native here." "i am even astonished," added dick sand, "that we have not yet seen a single one." "ah! my young friend," replied harris, "those trees are not easy to distinguish. though they are often of great height, though their leaves are large, their flowers rosy and odoriferous, we do not discover them easily. it is rarely that they grow in groups. they are rather scattered through the forests, and the indians who collect the quinquina can only recognize them by their foliage, always green." "mr. harris," said mrs. weldon, "if you see one of those trees you will show it to me." "certainly, mrs. weldon, but at the farm you will find some sulphate of quinine. that is worth still more to break the fever than the simple bark of the tree." formerly, this bark was only reduced to powder, which bore the name of "jesuits' powder," because, in , the jesuits of rome received a considerable quantity from their mission in america. this last day of the journey passed without other incident. evening came and the halt was organized for the whole night as usual. till then it had not rained, but the weather was preparing to change, for a warm mist rose from the soil and soon found a thick fog. they were touching, in fact, on the rainy season. fortunately, the next day, a comfortable shelter would be hospitably offered to the little troop. there were only a few hours to elapse. though, according to harris, who could only establish his calculation by the time which the journey had lasted, they could not be more than six miles from the farm, the ordinary precautions were taken for the night. tom and his companions would watch one after the other. dick sand insisted that nothing should be neglected in that respect. less than ever, would he depart from his habitual prudence, for a terrible suspicion was incrusted in his mind; but he did not wish to say anything yet. the retiring to rest had been made at the feet of a group of large trees. fatigue aiding, mrs. weldon and hers were already asleep, when they were awakened by a great cry. "eh! what's the matter?" asked dick sand, quickly, who was on his feet first of all. "it is i! it is i who have cried!" replied cousin benedict. "and what is the matter with you?" asked mrs. weldon. "i have just been bit!" "by a serpent?" asked mrs. weldon, with alarm. "no, no! it was not a serpent, but an insect," replied cousin benedict. "ah! i have it! i have it!" "well, crush your insect," said harris, "and let us sleep, mr. benedict!" "crush an insect!" cried cousin benedict. "not so! i must see what it is!" "some mosquito!" said harris, shrugging his shoulders. "no! it is a fly," replied cousin benedict, "and a fly which ought to be very curious!" dick sand had lit a little portable lantern, and he approached cousin benedict. "divine goodness!" cried the latter. "behold what consoles me for all my deceptions! i have, then, at last made a discovery!" the honest man was raving. he looked at his fly in triumph. he would willingly kiss it. "but what is it, then?" asked mrs. weldon. "a dipter, cousin, a famous dipter!" and cousin benedict showed a fly smaller than a bee, of a dull color, streaked with yellow on the lower part of its body. "and this fly is not venomous?" asked mrs. weldon. "no, cousin, no; at least not for man. but for animals, for antelopes, for buffaloes, even for elephants, it is another thing. ah! adorable insect!" "at last," asked dick sand, "will you tell us, mr. benedict, what is this fly?" "this fly," replied the entomologist, "this fly that i hold between my fingers, this fly--it is a _tsetse_! it is that famous dipter that is the honor of a country, and, till now, no one has ever found a _tsetse_ in america!" dick sand did not dare to ask cousin benedict in what part of the world this redoubtable _tsetse_ was only to be met. and when his companions, after this incident, had returned to their interrupted sleep, dick sand, in spite of the fatigue which overwhelmed him, did not close his eyes the whole night. * * * * * chapter xviii. the terrible word. it was time to arrive. extreme lassitude made it impossible for mrs. weldon to continue any longer a journey made under such painful conditions. her little boy, crimson during the fits of fever, very pale during the intermissions, was pitiable to see. his mother extremely anxious, had not been willing to leave jack even in the care of the good nan. she held him, half-lying, in her arms. yes, it was time to arrive. but, to trust to the american, on the very evening of this day which was breaking--the evening of the th of april, the little troop should finally reach the shelter of the "hacienda" of san felice. twelve days' journey for a woman, twelve nights passed in the open air; it was enough to overwhelm mrs. weldon, energetic as she was. but, for a child, it was worse, and the sight of little jack sick, and without the most ordinary cares, had sufficed to crush her. dick sand, nan, tom, and his companions had supported the fatigues of the journey better. their provisions, although they were commencing to get exhausted, had not become injured, and their condition was satisfactory. as for harris, he seemed made for the difficulties of these long journeys across the forests, and it did not appear that fatigue could affect him. only, in proportion as he neared the farm, dick sand observed that he was more preoccupied and less frank in behavior than before. the contrary would have been more natural. this was, at least, the opinion of the young novice, who had now become more than suspicious of the american. and meanwhile, what interest could harris have in deceiving them? dick sand could not have explained it, but he watched their guide more closely. the american probably felt himself suspected by dick sand, and, no doubt, it was this mistrust which made him still more taciturn with "his young friend." the march had been resumed. in the forest, less thick, the trees were scattered in groups, and no longer formed impenetrable masses. was it, then, the true pampas of which harris had spoken? during the first hours of the day, no accident happened to aggravate the anxieties that dick sand felt. only two facts were observed by him. perhaps they were not very important, but in these actual junctures, no detail could be neglected. it was the behavior of dingo which, above all, attracted more especially the young man's attention. in fact the dog, which, during all this journey, had seemed to be following a scent, became quite different, and that almost suddenly. until then, his nose to the ground, generally smelling the herbs or the shrubs, he either kept quiet, or he made a sort of sad, barking noise, like an expression of grief or of regret. now, on this day, the barking of the singular animal became like bursts, sometimes furious, such as they formerly were when negoro appeared on the deck of the "pilgrim." a suspicion crossed suddenly dick sand's mind, and it was confirmed by tom, who said to him: "how very singular, mr. dick! dingo no longer smells the ground as he did yesterday! his nose is in the air, he is agitated, his hair stands up! one would think he scented in the distance----" "negoro, is it not so?" replied dick sand, who seized the old black's arm, and signed to him to speak in a low voice. "negoro, mr. dick! may it not be that he has followed our steps?" "yes, tom; and that at this moment even he may not be very far from us." "but why?" said tom. "either negoro does not know this country," went on dick sand, "and then he would have every interest in not losing sight of us----" "or?" said tom, who anxiously regarded the novice. "or," replied dick sand, "he does know it, and then he----" "but how should negoro know this country? he has never come here!" "has he never been here?" murmured dick sand. "it is an incontestable fact that dingo acts as if this man whom he detests were near us!" then, interrupting himself to call the dog, which, after some hesitation, came to him: "eh!" said he; "negoro! negoro!" a furious barking was dingo's reply. this name had its usual effect upon him, and he darted forward, as if negoro had been hidden behind some thicket. harris had witnessed all this scene. with his lips a little drawn, he approached the novice. "what did you ask dingo then?" said he. "oh, not much, mr. harris," replied old tom, jokingly. "we asked him for news of the ship-companion whom we have lost!" "ah!" said the american, "the portuguese, the ship's cook of whom you have already spoken to me?" "yes." replied tom. "one would say, to hear dingo, that negoro is in the vicinity." "how could he get as far as this?" replied harris. "he never was in this country that i know of; at least, he concealed it from us," replied tom. "it would be astonishing," said harris. "but, if you wish, we will beat these thickets. it is possible that this poor devil has need of help; that he is in distress." "it is useless, mr. harris," replied dick sand. "if negoro has known how to come as far as this, he will know how to go farther. he is a man to keep out of trouble." "as you please," replied harris. "let us go. dingo, be quiet," added dick sand, briefly, so as to end the conversation. the second observation made by the novice was in connection with the american horse. he did not appear to "feel the stable," as do animals of his species. he did not suck in the air; he did not hasten his speed; he did not dilate his nostrils; he uttered none of the neighings that indicate the end of a journey. to observe him well, he appeared to be as indifferent as if the farm, to which he had gone several times, however, and which he ought to know, had been several hundreds of miles away. "that is not a horse near home," thought the young novice. and, meanwhile, according to what harris had said the evening before, there only remained six miles to go, and, of these last six miles, at five o'clock in the evening four had been certainly cleared. now, if the horse felt nothing of the stable, of which he should have great need, nothing besides announced the approaches to a great clearing, such as the farm of san felice must be. mrs. weldon, indifferent as she then was to what did not concern her child, was struck at seeing the country still so desolate. what! not a native, not a farm-servant, at such a short distance! harris must be wild! no! she repulsed this idea. a new delay would have been the death of her little jack! meanwhile, harris always kept in advance, but he seemed to observe the depths of the wood, and looked to the right and left, like a man who was not sure of himself--nor of his road. mrs. weldon shut her eyes so as not to see him. after a plain a mile in extent, the forest, without being as dense as in the west, had reappeared, and the little troop was again lost under the great trees. at six o'clock in the evening they had reached a thicket, which appeared to have recently given passage to a band of powerful animals. dick sand looked around him very attentively. at a distance winch far surpassed the human height, the branches were torn off or broken. at the same time the herbs, roughly scattered, exhibited on the soil, a little marshy, prints of steps which could not be those of jaguars, or cougars. were these, then, the "ais," or some other tardi-graves, whose feet had thus marked the soil? but how, then, explain the break in the branches at such a height? elephants might have, without doubt, left such imprints, stamped these large traces, made a similar hole in the impenetrable underwood. but elephants are not found in america. these enormous thick-skinned quadrupeds are not natives of the new world. as yet, they have never been acclimated there. the hypothesis that elephants had passed there was absolutely inadmissible. however that might be, dick sand hardly knew how much this inexplicable fact gave him to think about. he did not even question the american on this point. what could he expect from a man who had tried to make him take giraffes for ostriches? harris would have given him some explanation, more or less imaginative, which would not have changed the situation. at all events, dick had formed his opinion of harris. he felt in him a traitor! he only awaited an occasion to unmask his disloyalty, to have the right to do it, and everything told him that this opportunity was near. but what could be harris's secret end? what future, then, awaited the survivors of the "pilgrim?" dick sand repeated to himself that his responsibility had not ceased with the shipwreck. it was more than ever necessary for him to provide for the safety of those whom the waves had thrown on this coast! this woman, this young child, these blacks--all his companions in misfortune--it was he alone who must save them! but, if he could attempt anything on board ship, if he could act on the sea, here, in the midst of the terrible trials which he foresaw, what part could he take? dick sand would not shut his eyes before the frightful reality that each instant made more indisputable. in this juncture he again became the captain of fifteen years, as he had been on the "pilgrim." but he would not say anything which could alarm the poor mother before the moment for action had arrived. and he said nothing, not even when, arrived on the bank of a rather large stream, preceding the little troop about one hundred feet, he perceived enormous animals, which threw themselves under the large plants on the brink. "hippopotami! hippopotami!" he was going to exclaim. and they were, indeed, these thick-skinned animals, with a big head, a large, swollen snout, a mouth armed with teeth which extend a foot beyond it--animals which are squat on their short limbs, the skin of which, unprovided with hair, is of a tawny red. hippopotami in america! they continued to march during the whole day, but painfully. fatigue commenced to retard even the most robust. it was truly time to arrive, or they would be forced to stop. mrs. weldon, wholly occupied with her little jack, did not perhaps feel the fatigue, but her strength was exhausted. all, more or less, were tired. dick sand, resisted by a supreme moral energy, caused by the sentiment of duty. toward four o'clock in the evening, old tom found, in the grass, an object which attracted his attention. it was an arm, a kind of knife, of a particular shape, formed of a large, curved blade, set in a square, ivory handle, rather roughly ornamented. tom carried this knife to dick sand, who took it, examined it, and, finally, showed it to the american, saying: "no doubt the natives are not very far off." "that is so," replied harris, "and meanwhile----" "meanwhile?" repeated dick sand, who now steadily looked harris in the face. "we should be very near the farm," replied harris, hesitating, "and i do not recognize----" "you are then astray?" quickly asked dick sand. "astray! no. the farm cannot be more than three miles away, now. but, i wished to take the shortest road through the forest, and perhaps i have made a little mistake!" "perhaps," replied dick sand. "i would do well, i think, to go in advance," said harris. "no, mr. harris, we will not separate," replied dick sand, in a decided tone. "as you will," replied the american. "but, during the night, it will be difficult for me to guide you." "never mind that!" replied dick sand. "we are going to halt. mrs. weldon will consent to pass a last night under the trees, and to-morrow, when it is broad daylight, we will proceed on our journey! two or three miles still, that will be an hour's walk!" "be it so," replied harris. at that moment dingo commenced to bark furiously. "here, dingo, here!" cried dick sand. "you know well that no one is there, and that we are in the desert!" this last halt was then decided upon. mrs. weldon let her companions work without saying a word. her little jack was sleeping in her arms, made drowsy by the fever. they sought the best place to pass the night. this was under a large bunch of trees, where dick sand thought of disposing all for their rest. but old tom, who was helping him in these preparations, stopped suddenly, crying out: "mr. dick! look! look!" "what is it, old tom?" asked dick sand, in the calm tone of a man who attends to everything. "there--there!" cried tom; "on those trees--blood stains!--and--on the ground--mutilated limbs!" dick sand rushed toward the spot indicated by old tom. then, returning to him: "silence, tom, silence!" said he. in fact, there on the ground were hands cut off, and above these human remains were several broken forks, and a chain in pieces! happily, mrs. weldon had seen nothing of this horrible spectacle. as for harris, he kept at a distance, and any one observing him at this moment would have been struck at the change made in him. his face had something ferocious in it. dingo had rejoined dick sand, and before these bloody remains, he barked with rage. the novice had hard work to drive him away. meanwhile, old tom, at the sight of these forks, of this broken chain, had remained motionless, as if his feet were rooted in the soil. his eyes were wide open, his hands clenched; he stared, murmuring these incoherent words: "i have seen--already seen--these forks--when little--i have seen!" and no doubt the memories of his early infancy returned to him vaguely. he tried to recall them. he was going to speak. "be silent, tom!" repeated dick sand. "for mrs. weldon's sake, for all our sakes, be silent!" and the novice led the old black away. another halting place was chosen, at some distance, and all was arranged for the night. the repast was prepared, but they hardly touched it. fatigue took away their hunger. all were under an indefinable impression of anxiety which bordered on terror. darkness came gradually: soon it was profound. the sky was covered with great stormy clouds. between the trees in the western horizon they saw some flashes of heat lightning. the wind had fallen; not a leaf moved on the trees. an absolute silence succeeded the noises of the day, and it might be believed that the heavy atmosphere, saturated with electricity, was becoming unfit for the transmission of sounds. dick sand, austin, and bat watched together. they tried to see, to hear, during this very dark night, if any light whatsoever, or any suspicious noise should strike their eyes or their ears. nothing troubled either the calm or the obscurity of the forest. torn, not sleepy, but absorbed in his remembrances, his head bent, remained quiet, as if he had been struck by some sudden blow. mrs. weldon rocked her child in her arms, and only thought of him. only cousin benedict slept, perhaps, for he alone did not suffer from the common impression. his faculty for looking forward did not go so far. suddenly, about eleven o'clock, a prolonged and grave roaring was heard, with which was mingled a sort of sharper shuddering. tom stood up and stretched out his hand toward a dense thicket, a mile or more distant. dick sand seized his arm, but he could not prevent tom from crying in a loud voice: "the lion! the lion!" this roaring, which he had so often heard in his infancy, the old black had just recognized it. "the lion!" he repeated. dick sand, incapable of controlling himself longer, rushed, cutlass in hand, to the place occupied by harris. harris was no longer there, and his horse had disappeared with him. a sort of revelation took place in dick sand's mind. he was not where he had believed he was! so it was not on the american coast that the "pilgrim" had gone ashore! it was not the isle of paques, whose bearing the novice had taken at sea, but some other island situated exactly to the west of this continent, as the isle of paques is situated to the west of america. the compass had deceived him during a part of the voyage, we know why! led away by the tempest over a false route, he must have doubled cape horn, and from the pacific ocean he had passed into the atlantic! the speed of his ship, which he could only imperfectly estimate, had been doubled, unknown to him, by the force of the hurricane! behold why the caoutchouc trees, the quinquinas, the products of south america were missing in this country, which was neither the plateau of atacama nor the bolivian pampa! yes, they were giraffes, not ostriches, which had fled away in the opening! they were elephants that had crossed the thick underwood! they were hippopotami whose repose dick sand had troubled under the large plants! it was the _tsetse_, that dipter picked up by benedict, the formidable _tsetse_ under whose stings the animals of the caravans perish! finally, it was, indeed, the roaring of the lion that had just sounded through the forest! and those forks, those chains, that knife of singular form, they were the tools of the slave-trader! those mutilated hands, they were the hands of captives! the portuguese negoro, and the american harris, must be in collusion! and those terrible words guessed by dick sand, finally escaped his lips: "africa! equatorial africa! africa of the slave-trade and the slaves!" end of part i _part ii_ * * * * * chapter i. the slave trade. the slave trade! nobody is ignorant of the significance of this word, which should never have found a place in human language. this abominable traffic, for a long time practised to the profit of the european nations which possessed colonies beyond the sea, has been already forbidden for many years. meanwhile it is always going on a large scale, and principally in central africa. even in this nineteenth century the signature of a few states, calling themselves christians, are still missing from the act for the abolition of slavery. we might believe that the trade is no longer carried on; that this buying and this selling of human creatures has ceased: it is not so, and that is what the reader must know if he wishes to become more deeply interested in the second part of this history. he must learn what these men-hunts actually are still, these hunts which threaten to depopulate a whole continent for the maintenance of a few slave colonies; where and how these barbarous captures are executed; how much blood they cost; how they provoke incendiarism and pillage; finally, for whose profit they are made. it is in the fifteenth century only that we see the trade in blacks carried on for the first time. behold under what circumstances it was established: the mussulmans, after being expelled from spain, took refuge beyond the strait on the coast of africa. the portuguese, who then occupied that part of the coast, pursued them with fury. a certain number of those fugitives were made prisoners and brought back to portugal. reduced to slavery, they constituted the first nucleus of african slaves which has been formed in western europe since the christian era. but those mussulmans belonged, for the most part, to rich families, who wished to buy them back for gold. the portuguese refused to accept a ransom, however large it might be. they had only to make foreign gold. what they lacked were the arms so indispensable then for the work of the growing colonies, and, to say it all, the arms of the slave. the mussulman families, being unable to buy back their captive relatives, then offered to exchange them for a much larger number of black africans, whom it was only too easy to carry off. the offer was accepted by the portuguese, who found that exchange to their advantage, and thus the slave trade was founded in europe. toward the end of the sixteenth century this odious traffic was generally admitted, and it was not repugnant to the still barbarous manners. all the states protected it so as to colonize more rapidly and more surely the isles of the new world. in fact, the slaves of black origin could resist the climate, where the badly acclimated whites, still unfit to support the heat of intertropical climates, would have perished by thousands. the transport of negroes to the american colonies was then carried on regularly by special vessels, and this branch of transatlantic commerce led to the creation of important stations on different points of the african coast. the "merchandise" cost little in the country of production, and the returns were considerable. but, necessary as was the foundation of the colonies beyond the sea from all points of view, it could not justify those markets for human flesh. generous voices soon made themselves heard, which protested against the trade in blacks, and demanded from the european governments a decree of abolition in the name of the principles of humanity. in , the quakers put themselves at the head of the abolition movement, even in the heart of that north america where, a hundred years later, the war of secession was to burst forth, to which this question of slavery was not a foreign one. different states in the north--virginia, connecticut, massachusetts, pennsylvania--decreed the abolition of the slave trade, and freed the slaves brought to their territories at great expense. but the campaign commenced by the quakers did not limit itself to the northern provinces of the new world. slaveholders were warmly attacked beyond the atlantic. france and england, more particularly, recruited partisans for this just cause. "let the colonies perish rather than a principle!" such was the generous command which resounded through all the old world, and, in spite of the great political and commercial interests engaged in the question, it was effectively transmitted through europe. the impetus was given. in , england abolished the slave-trade in her colonies, and france followed her example in . the two powerful nations exchanged a treaty on this subject--a treaty confirmed by napoleon during the hundred days. however, that was as yet only a purely theoretical declaration. the slave-ships did not cease to cross the seas, and to dispose of their "ebony cargoes" in colonial ports. more practical measures must be taken in order to put an end to this commerce. the united states, in , and england, in , declared the slave trade an act of piracy, and those who practised it pirates. as such, they drew on themselves the penalty of death, and they were pursued to the end. france soon adhered to the new treaty; but the states of south america, and the spanish and portuguese colonies, did not join in the act of abolition. the exportation of blacks then continued to their profit, notwithstanding the right of search generally recognized, which was limited to the verification of the flag of suspicious vessels. meanwhile, the new law of abolition had not a retroactive effect. no more new slaves were made, but the old ones had not yet recovered their liberty. it was under those circumstances that england set an example. in may, , a general declaration emancipated all the blacks in the colonies of great britain, and in august, , six hundred and seventy thousand slaves were declared free. ten years later, in , the republic emancipated the slaves of the french colonies, say about two hundred and sixty thousand blacks. in , the war which broke out between the federals and confederates, of the united states, finishing the work of emancipation, extended it to all north america. the three great powers had then accomplished this work of humanity. at the present hour, the trade is no longer carried on, except for the benefit of the spanish and portuguese colonies, and to satisfy the wants of the populations of the orient, turks, or arabs. brazil, if she has not yet restored her old slaves to liberty, at least no longer receives new ones, and the children of the blacks are born free there. it is in the interior of africa, in the prosecution of those bloody wars, waged by the african chiefs among themselves for this man-hunt, that entire tribes are reduced to slavery. two opposite directions are then given to the caravans: one to the west, toward the portuguese colony of angola; the other to the east, on the mozambique. of these unfortunate beings, of whom only a small portion arrive at their destination, some are exported, it may be to cuba, it may be to madagascar; others to the arab or turkish provinces of asia, to mecca, or to muscat. the english and french cruisers can only prevent this traffic to a small extent, as it is so difficult to obtain an effective surveillance over such far-extended coasts. but the figures of these odious exportations, are they still considerable? yes! the number of slaves who arrive at the coast is estimated at not less than eighty thousand; and this number, it appears, only represents the tenth of natives massacred. after these dreadful butcheries the devastated fields are deserted, the burnt villages are without inhabitants, the rivers carry down dead bodies, deer occupy the country. livingstone, the day after one of these men-hunts, no longer recognized the provinces he had visited a few months before. all the other travelers--grant, speke, burton, cameron, and stanley--do not speak otherwise of this wooded plateau of central africa, the principal theater of the wars between the chiefs. in the region of the great lakes, over all that vast country which feeds the market of zanzibar, in bornou and fezzan, farther south, on the banks of the nyassa and the zambesi, farther west, in the districts of the upper zaire, which the daring stanley has just crossed, is seen the same spectacle--ruins, massacres, depopulation. then will slavery in africa only end with the disappearance of the black race; and will it be with this race as it is with the australian race, or the race in new holland? but the market of the spanish and portuguese colonies will close some day. that outlet will be wanting. civilized nations can no longer tolerate the slave trade! yes, without doubt; and this year even, , ought to see the enfranchisement of all the slaves still possessed by christian states. however, for long years to come the mussulman nations will maintain this traffic, which depopulates the african continent. it is for them, in fact, that the most important emigration of the blacks is made, as the number of natives snatched from their provinces and brought to the eastern coast annually exceeds forty thousand. long before the expedition to egypt the negroes of the seunaar were sold by thousands to the negroes of the darfour, and reciprocally. general bonaparte was able to buy a pretty large number of these blacks, of whom he made organized soldiers, like the mamelukes. since then, during this century, of which four-fifths have now passed away, commerce in slaves has not diminished in africa. on the contrary. and, in fact, islamism is favorable to the slave trade. the black slave must replace the white slave of former times, in turkish provinces. so contractors of every origin pursue this execrable traffic on a large scale. they thus carry a supplement of population to those races, which are dying out and will disappear some day, because they do not regenerate themselves by labor. these slaves, as in the time of bonaparte, often become soldiers. with certain nations of the upper niger, they compose the half of the armies of the african chiefs. under these circumstances, their fate is not sensibly inferior to that of free men. besides, when the slave is not a soldier, he is money which has circulation; even in egypt and at bornou, officers and functionaries are paid in that money. william lejean has seen it and has told of it. such is, then, the actual state of the trade. must it be added that a number of agents of the great european powers are not ashamed to show a deplorable indulgence for this commerce. nevertheless, nothing is truer; while the cruisers watch the coasts of the atlantic and the indian oceans, the traffic goes on regularly in the interior, the caravans walk on under the eyes of certain functionaries, and massacres, where ten blacks perish to furnish one slave, take place at stated periods! so it will now be understood how terrible were those words just pronounced by dick sand. "africa! equatorial africa! africa of slave-traders and slaves!" and he was not deceived; it was africa with all its dangers, for his companions and for himself. but on what part of the african continent had an inexplicable fatality landed him? evidently on the western coast, and as an aggravating circumstance, the young novice was forced to think that the "pilgrim" was thrown on precisely that part of the coast of angola where the caravans, which clear all that part of africa, arrive. in fact it was there. it was that country which cameron on the south and stanley on the north were going to cross a few years later, and at the price of what efforts! of this vast territory, which is composed of three provinces, benguela, congo, and angola, there was but little known then except the coast. it extends from the nourse, in the south, as far as the zaire in the north, and the two principal towns form two ports, benguela and st. paul' de loanda, the capital of the colony which set off from the kingdom of portugal. in the interior this country was then almost unknown. few travelers had dared to venture there. a pernicious climate, warm and damp lands, which engender fevers, barbarous natives, some of whom are still cannibals, a permanent state of war between tribes, the slave-traders' suspicion of every stranger who seeks to discover the secrets of their infamous commerce; such are the difficulties to surmount, the dangers to overcome in this province of angola, one of the most dangerous of equatorial africa. tuckey, in , had ascended the congo beyond the yellala falls; but over an extent of two hundred miles at the most. this simple halting-place could not give a definite knowledge of the country, and nevertheless, it had caused the death of the greater part of the savants and officers who composed the expedition. thirty-seven years later, dr. livingstone had advanced from the cape of good hope as far as the upper zambesi. thence, in the month of november, with a hardihood which has never been surpassed, he traversed africa from the south to the northwest, cleared the coango, one of the branches of the congo, and on the st of may, , arrived at st. paul de loanda. it was the first view in the unknown of the great portuguese colony. eighteen years after, two daring discoverers crossed africa from the east to the west, and arrived, one south, the other north, of angola, after unheard-of difficulties. the first, according to the date, was a lieutenant in the english navy, verney-howet cameron. in , there was reason to fear that the expedition of the american, stanley, was in great danger. it had been sent to the great lake region in search of livingstone. lieutenant cameron offered to go over the same road. the offer was accepted. cameron, accompanied by dr. dillon, lieutenant cecil murphy and robert moffat, a nephew of livingstone, started from zanzibar. after having crossed ougogo, he met livingstone's faithful servants carrying their master's body to the eastern coast. he continued his route to the west, with the unconquerable desire to pass from one coast to the other. he crossed ounyanyembe, ougounda, and kahouele, where he collected the great traveler's papers. having passed over tanganyika, and the bambarre mountains, he reached loualaba, but could not descend its course. after having visited all the provinces devastated by war and depopulated by the slave trade, kilemmba, ouroua, the sources of the lomane, oulouda, lovale, and having crossed the coanza and the immense forests in which harris has just entrapped dick sand and his companions, the energetic cameron finally perceived the atlantic ocean and arrived at saint philip of benguela. this journey of three years and four months had cost the lives of his two companions, dr. dillon and robert moffat. henry moreland stanley, the american, almost immediately succeeded the englishman, cameron, on the road of discoveries. we know that this intrepid correspondent of the new york _herald_, sent in search of livingstone, had found him on october th, , at oujiji, on lake tanganyika. having so happily accomplished his object for the sake of humanity, stanley determined to pursue his journey in the interest of geographical science. his object then was to gain a complete knowledge of loualaba, of which he had only had a glimpse. cameron was then lost in the provinces of central africa, when, in november, , stanley quitted bagamoga, on the eastern coast. twenty-one months after, august th, , he abandoned oujiji, which was decimated by an epidemic of smallpox. in seventy-four days he effected the passage of the lake at n'yangwe, a great slave market, which had been already visited by livingstone and cameron. here he witnessed the most horrible scenes, practised in the maroungou and manyouema countries by the officers of the sultan of zanzibar. stanley then took measures to explore the course of the loualaba and to descend it as far as its mouth. one hundred and forty bearers, engaged at n'yangwe, and nineteen boats, formed the material and the force of his expedition. from the very start he had to fight the cannibals of ougouson. from the start, also, he had to attend to the carrying of boats, so as to pass insuperable cataracts. under the equator, at the point where the loualaba makes a bend to the northeast, fifty-four boats, manned by several hundred natives, attacked stanley's little fleet, which succeeded in putting them to flight. then the courageous american, reascending as far as the second degree of northern latitude, ascertained that the loualaba was the upper zaire, or congo, and that by following its course he could descend directly to the sea. this he did, fighting nearly every day against the tribes that lived near the river. on june d, , at the passage of the cataracts of massassa, he lost one of his companions, francis pocock. july th he was drawn with his boat into the falls of m'belo, and only escaped death by a miracle. finally, august th, henry stanley arrived at the village of ni-sanda, four days' journey from the coast. two days after, at banza-m'bouko, he found the provisions sent by two merchants from emboma. he finally rested at this little coast town, aged, at thirty-five years, by over-fatigue and privations, after an entire passage of the african continent, which had taken two years and nine months of his life. however, the course of the loualaba was explored as far as the atlantic; and if the nile is the great artery of the north, if the zambesi is the great artery of the east, we now know that africa still possesses in the west the third of the largest rivers in the world--a river which, in a course of two thousand, nine hundred miles, under the names of loualaba, zaire, and congo, unites the lake region with the atlantic ocean. however, between these two books of travel--stanley's and cameron's--the province of angola is somewhat better known in this year than in , at that period when the "pilgrim" was lost on the african coast. it was well known that it was the seat of the western slave-trade, thanks to its important markets of bihe, cassange, and kazounde. it was into this country that dick sand had been drawn, more than one hundred miles from the coast, with a woman exhausted by fatigue and grief, a dying child, and some companions of african descent, the prey, as everything indicated, to the rapacity of slave merchants. yes, it was africa, and not that america where neither the natives, nor the deer, nor the climate are very formidable. it was not that favorable region, situated between the cordilleras and the coast, where straggling villages abound, and where missions are hospitably opened to all travelers. they were far away, those provinces of peru and bolivia, where the tempest would have surely carried the "pilgrim," if a criminal hand had not changed its course, where the shipwrecked ones would have found so many facilities for returning to their country. it was the terrible angola, not even that part of the coast inspected by the portuguese authorities, but the interior of the colony, which is crossed by caravans of slaves under the whip of the driver. what did dick sand know of this country where treason had thrown him? very little; what the missionaries of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries had said of it; what the portuguese merchants, who frequented the road from st. paul de loanda to the zaïre, by way of san salvador, knew of it; what dr. livingstone had written about it, after his journey of , and that would have been sufficient to overwhelm a soul less strong than his. truly, the situation was terrible. chapter ii. harris and negoro. the day after that on which dick sand and his companions had established their last halt in the forest, two men met together about three miles from there, as it had been previously arranged between them. these two men were harris and negoro; and we are going to see now what chance had brought together, on the coast of angola, the portuguese come from new zealand, and the american, whom the business of trader obliged to often traverse this province of western africa. harris and negoro were seated at the foot of an enormous banyan, on the steep bank of an impetuous stream, which ran between a double hedge of papyrus. the conversation commenced, for the portuguese and the american had just met, and at first they dwelt on the deeds which had been accomplished during these last hours. "and so, harris," said negoro, "you have not been able to draw this little troop of captain sand, as they call this novice of fifteen years, any farther into angola?" "no, comrade," replied harris; "and it is even astonishing that i have succeeded in leading him a hundred miles at least from the coast. several days ago my young friend, dick sand, looked at me with an anxious air, his suspicions gradually changed into certainties--and faith--" "another hundred miles, harris, and those people would be still more surely in our hands! however, they must not escape us!" "ah! how could they?" replied harris, shrugging his shoulders. "i repeat it, negoro, there was only time to part company with them. ten times have i read in my young friend's eyes that he was tempted to send a ball into my breast, and i have too bad a stomach to digest those prunes which weigh a dozen to the pound." "good!" returned negoro; "i also have an account to settle with this novice." "and you shall settle it at your ease, with interest, comrade. as to me, during the first three days of the journey i succeeded very well in making him take this province for the desert of atacama, which i visited formerly. but the child claimed his caoutchoucs and his humming-birds. the mother demanded her quinquinas. the cousin was crazy to find cocuyos. faith, i was at the end of my imagination, and after with great difficulty making them swallow ostriches for giraffes--a god-send, indeed, negoro!--i no longer knew what to invent. besides, i well saw that my young friend no longer accepted my explanations. then we fell on elephants' prints. the hippopotami were added to the party. and you know, negoro, hippopotami and elephants in america are like honest men in the penitentiaries of benguela. finally, to finish me, there was the old black, who must find forks and chains at the foot of a tree. slaves had freed themselves from them to flee. at the same moment the lion roared, starting the company, and it is not easy to pass off that roaring for the mewing of an inoffensive cat. i then had only time to spring on my horse and make my way here." "i understand," replied negoro. "nevertheless, i would wish to hold them a hundred miles further in the province."' "one does what he can, comrade," replied harris. "as to you, who followed our caravan from the coast, you have done well to keep your distance. they felt you were there. there is a certain dingo that does not seem to love you. what have you done to that animal?" "nothing," replied negoro; "but before long it will receive a ball in the head." "as you would have received one from dick sand, if you had shown ever so little of your person within two hundred feet of his gun. ah! how well he fires, my young friend; and, between you and me, i am obliged to admit that he is, in his way, a fine boy." "no matter how fine he is, harris, he will pay dear for his insolence," replied negoro, whose countenance expressed implacable cruelty. "good," murmured harris, "my comrade remains just the same as i have always known him! voyages have not injured him!" then, after a moment's silence: "ah, there, negoro," continued he, "when i met you so fortunately there below, at the scene of the shipwreck, at the mouth of the longa, you only had time to recommend those honest people to me, while begging me to lead them as far as possible across this pretended bolivia. you have not told me what you have been doing these two years! two years, comrade, in our chance existence, is a long time. one fine day, after having taken charge of a caravan of slaves on old alvez's account--whose very humble agents we are--you left cassange, and have not been heard of since! i have thought that you had some disagreement with the english cruiser, and that you were hung!" "i came very near it, harris." "that will come, negoro." "thank you!" "what would you have?" replied harris, with an indifference quite philosophical; "it is one of the chances of the trade! we do not carry on the slave-trade on the coast of africa without running the risk of dying elsewhere than in our beds! so, you have been taken?" "yes!" "by the english?" "no! by the portuguese." "before or after having delivered your cargo?" asked harris. "after--," replied negoro, who had hesitated a little about replying. "these portuguese now make difficulties. they want no more slavery, though they have used it so long to their profit. i was denounced --watched. they took me--" "and condemned--" "me to finish my days in the penitentiary of st. paul de loanda." "a thousand devils!" exclaimed harris. "that is an unhealthy place for men accustomed, like us, to live in the open air. as to me, perhaps i should prefer being hung." "one does not escape from the gallows," replied negoro; "but from prison--" "you were able to make your escape?" "yes, harris. only fifteen days after being put in prison. i was able to hide myself at the bottom of the hold of an english steamer, sailing for auckland, of new zealand. a barrel of water and a case of conserves, between which i had intruded, furnished me with food and drink during the whole passage. oh! i suffered terribly, from not being willing to show myself when we were at sea. but, if i had been imprudent enough to do it, i would have been confined again at the bottom of the hold, and, voluntarily or not, the torture would be the same. besides, on my arrival at auckland, they would have returned me again to the english authorities, and finally brought me back to the penitentiary of loanda, or, perhaps, hung me, as you said. that was why i preferred to travel incognito." "and without paying your passage!" exclaimed harris, laughing. "ah! that is not considerate, comrade, to be fed and carried gratis!" "yes," returned negoro, "but thirty days' passage at the bottom of the hold--" "at last that was over, negoro. you set out for new zealand, in the land of the maoris. but you have returned. was the return made under the same circumstances?" "not so, harris. you may well believe that, over there, i had only one idea--to return to angola and take up my trade of slave-trader again." "yes," replied harris, "one loves his trade--from habit." "for eighteen months--" having pronounced those last words, negoro stopped suddenly. he seized his companion's arm, and listened. "harris," said he, lowering his voice, "was there not a trembling in that papyrus bush?" "yes, indeed," replied harris, seizing his gun, always ready to fire. negoro and he stood up, looked around them, and listened with the greatest attention. "there is nothing there," said harris. "it is this brook, swelled by the storm, which runs more noisily. for two years, comrade, you have been unaccustomed to the noises of the forest, but you will get used to them again. continue, then, the narration of your adventures. when i understand the past, we shall talk of the future." negoro and harris sat down again at the foot of the banyan. the portuguese continued, in these terms: "for eighteen months i vegetated in auckland. when the steamer arrived there i was able to leave it without being seen; but not a piastre, not a dollar in my pocket! in order to live i had to follow all trades--" "even the trade of an honest man, negoro?" "as you say, harris." "poor boy!" "now, i was always waiting for an opportunity, which was long coming, when the 'pilgrim,' a whaler, arrived at the port of auckland." "that vessel which went ashore on the coast of angola?" "even the same, harris, and on which mrs. weldon, her child, and her cousin were going to take passage. now, as an old sailor, having even been second on board a slave ship, i was not out of my element in taking service on a ship. i then presented myself to the 'pilgrim's' captain, but the crew was made up. very fortunately for me, the schooner's cook had deserted. now, he is no sailor who does not know how to cook. i offered myself as head cook. for want of a better, i was accepted. a few days after, the 'pilgrim' had lost sight of the land of new zealand." "but," asked harris, "according to what my young friend has told me, the 'pilgrim' did not set sail at all for the coast of africa. how then has she arrived here?" "dick sand ought not to be able to understand it yet, and perhaps he will never understand it," replied negoro; "but i am going to explain to you what has passed, harris, and you will be able to tell it again to your young friend, if it pleases you to do so." "how, then?" replied harris. "speak, comrade, speak!" "the 'pilgrim,'" continued negoro, "as on the way to valparaiso. when i went on board, i only intended to go to chili. it was always a good half of the way between new zealand and angola, and i was drawing nearer africa's coast by several thousand miles. but it so happened that only three weeks after leaving auckland, captain hull, who commanded the 'pilgrim,' disappeared with all his crew, while chasing a whale. on that day, then, only two sailors remained on board--the novice and the cook, negoro." "and you took command of the ship?" asked harris. "i had that idea at first, but i saw that they distrusted me. there were live strong blacks on board, free men. i would not have been the master, and, on reflection, i remained what i was at the departure--the 'pilgrim's' cook." "then it was chance that led this ship to the coast of africa?" "no, harris," replied negoro; "there has been no chance in all this adventure except meeting you, in one of your journeys, just on that part of the coast where the 'pilgrim' was wrecked. but as to coming in sight of angola, it was by my will, my secret will, that that was done. your young friend, still much of a novice in navigation, could only tell his position by means of the log and the compass. well, one day, the log went to the bottom. one night the compass was made false, and the 'pilgrim,' driven by a violent tempest, took the wrong route. the length of the voyage, inexplicable to dick sand, would be the same to the most experienced seaman. without the novice knowing or even suspecting it, cape horn was doubled, but i, harris, i recognized it in the midst of the fogs. then, thanks to me, the needle in the compass took its true direction again, and the ship, blown to the northeast by that frightful hurricane, has just been cast on the coast of africa, just on this land of angola which i wished to reach." "and even at that moment, negoro," replied harris, "chance had led me there to receive you, and guide those honest people to the interior. they believed themselves--they could only believe themselves in america. it was easy for me to make them take this province for lower bolivia, to which it has really some resemblance." "yes, they believed it, as your young friend believed they had made the isle of paques, when they passed in sight of tristan d'acunha." "anybody would be deceived by it, negoro." "i know it, harris, and i even counted on profiting by that error. finally, behold mrs. weldon and her companions one hundred miles in the interior of this africa, where i wanted to bring them!" "but," replied harris, "they know now where they are." "ah! what matter at present!" cried negoro. "and what will you do with them?" asked harris. "what will i do with them?" replied negoro. "before telling you, harris, give me news of our master, the slave-trader, alvez, whom i have not seen for two years." "oh, the old rascal is remarkably well," replied harris, "and he will be enchanted to see you again." "is he at the bihe market?" asked negoro. "no, comrade, he has been at his establishment at kazounde for a year." "and business is lively?" "yes, a thousand devils!" exclaimed harris, "although the slave trade becomes more and more difficult, at least on this coast. the portuguese authorities on one side, and the english cruisers on the other, limit exportations. there are few places, except in the environs of mossamedes, to the south of angola, that the shipping of blacks can now be made with any chance of success. so, at this time, the pens are filled with slaves, waiting for the ships which ought to carry them to spanish colonies. as to passing them by benguela, or st. paul de loanda, that is not possible. the governors no longer understand reason, no more do the chiefs (title given to the portuguese governors of secondary establishments). we must, then, return to the factories of the interior. this is what old alvez intends to do. he will go from the nyangwe and tanganyika side to change his stuffs for ivory and slaves. business is always profitable with upper egypt and the mozambique coast, which furnishes all madagascar. but i fear the time will come when the trade can be no longer carried on. the english are making great progress in the interior of africa. the missionaries advance and work against us. that livingstone, curse him, after exploring the lake region, is going, they say, to travel toward angola. then they speak of a lieutenant cameron, who proposes to cross the continent from east to west. they also fear that the american, stanley, wishes to do as much. all these visits will end by damaging our operations, negoro, and if we care for our own interests, not one of those visitors will return to relate in europe what he has had the indiscretion to come to see in africa." would not one say, to hear them, the rascals, that they were speaking like honest merchants whose affairs were momentarily cramped by a commercial crisis? who would believe that, instead of sacks of coffee or casks of sugar, they were talking of human beings to export like merchandise? these traders have no other idea of right or wrong. the moral sense is entirely lacking in them, and if they had any, how quickly they would lose it among the frightful atrocities of the african slave trade. but where harris was right, was when he said that civilization was gradually penetrating those savage countries in the wake of those hardy travelers, whose names are indissoluble linked to the discoveries of equatorial africa. at the head, david livingstone, after him, grant, speke, burton, cameron, stanley, those heroes will leave imperishable names as benefactors of humanity. when their conversation reached that point, harris knew what the last two years of negoro's life had been. the trader alvez's old agent, the escaped prisoner from the loanda penitentiary, reappeared the same as harris had always known him, that is, ready to do anything. but what plan negoro intended to take in regard to the shipwrecked from the "pilgrim," harris did not yet know. he asked his accomplice about it. "and now," said he, "what are you going to do with those people?" "i shall make two parties of them," replied negoro, like a man whose plan had been long formed, "those whom i shall sell as slaves, and those whom----" the portuguese did not finish, but his ferocious physiognomy spoke plainly enough. "which will you sell?" asked harris. "those blacks who accompany mrs. weldon," replied negoro. "old tom is not perhaps of much value, but the others are four strong fellows, who will bring a high price in the kazounde market." "i well believe it, negoro," replied harris. "four negroes, well made, accustomed to work, have very little resemblance to those brutes which come to us from the interior. certainly, you will sell them at a high price. slaves, born in america, and exported to the markets of angola; that is rare merchandise! but," added the american, "you have not told me if there was any money on board the 'pilgrim.'" "oh! a few hundred dollars only, which i have succeeded in saving. fortunately, i count on certain returns." "which, then, comrade?" asked harris, with curiosity. "nothing!" replied negoro, who appeared to regret having spoken more than he intended. "it now remains to take possession of all that high-priced merchandise," said harris. "is it, then, so difficult?" asked negoro. "no, comrade. ten miles from here, on the coanza, a caravan of slaves is encamped, conducted by the arab, ibn hamis. he only awaits my return to take the road for kazounde. there are more native soldiers there than are needed to capture dick sand and his companions. it will be sufficient for my young friend to conceive the idea of going to the coanza." "but will he get that idea?" asked negoro. "surely," replied harris, "because he is intelligent, and cannot suspect the danger that awaits him. dick sand would not think of returning to the coast by the way we have followed together. he would be lost among these immense forests. he will seek, then, i am sure, to reach one of the rivers that flow toward the coast, so as to descend it on a raft. he has no other plan to take, and i know he will take it." "yes, perhaps so," replied negoro, who was reflecting. "it is not 'perhaps so,' it is 'assuredly so,' that must be said," continued harris. "do you see, negoro? it is as if i had appointed a rendezvous with my young friend on the banks of the coanza." "well, then," replied negoro, "let us go. i know dick sand. he will not delay an hour, and we must get before him." "let us start, comrade." harris and negoro both stood up, when the noise that had before attracted the portuguese's attention was renewed. it was a trembling of the stems between the high papyrus. negoro stopped, and seized harris's hand. suddenly a low barking was heard. a dog appeared at the foot of the bank, with its mouth open, ready to spring. "dingo!" cried harris. "ah! this time it shall not escape me!" replied negoro. dingo was going to jump upon him, when negoro, seizing harris's gun, quickly put it to his shoulder and fired. a long howl of pain replied to the detonation, and dingo disappeared between the double row of bushes that bordered the brook. negoro descended at once to the bottom of the bank. drops of blood stained some of the papyrus stems, and a long red track was left on the pebbles of the brook. "at last that cursed animal is paid off!" exclaimed negoro. harris had been present at this whole scene without saying a word. "ah now, negoro," said he, "that dog had a particular grudge against you." "it seemed so, harris, but it will have a grudge against me no longer!" "and why did it detest you so much, comrade?" "oh! an old affair to settle between it and me." "an old affair?" replied harris. negoro said no more about it, and harris concluded that the portuguese had been silent on some past adventure, but he did not insist on knowing it. a few moments later, both, descending the course of the brook, went toward the coanza, across the forest. * * * * * chapter iii. on the march. africa! that name so terrible under the present circumstances, that name which he must now substitute for that of america, was not for an instant out of dick sand's thoughts. when the young novice traced back the last weeks, it was to ask himself how the "pilgrim" had ended by reaching this dangerous shore, how it had doubled cape horn, and passed from one ocean to the other! he could now explain to himself why, in spite of the rapid motion of his vessel, land was so long coming in sight, because the length of the distance which he should have made to reach the american coast had been doubled without his knowledge. "africa! africa!" dick sand repeated. then, suddenly, while he called up with tenacious mind all the incidents of this inexplicable voyage, he felt that his compass must have been injured. he remembered, too, that the first compass had been broken, and that the log-line had snapped--a fact which had made it impossible for him to establish the speed of the "pilgrim." "yes," thought he, "there remained but one compass on board, one only, the indications of which i could not control! and one night i was awakened by a cry from old tom. negoro was there, aft. he had just fallen on the binnacle. may he not have put it out of order?" dick sand was growing enlightened. he had his finger on the truth. he now understood all that was ambiguous in negoro's conduct. he saw his hand in this chain of incidents which had led to the loss of the "pilgrim," and had so fearfully endangered those on board of her. but what, then, was this miserable man? had he been a sailor and known so well how to hide the fact? was he capable of contriving this odious plot which had thrown the ship on the coast of africa? at any rate, if obscure points still existed in the past, the present could offer no more of them. the young novice knew only too well that he was in africa, and very probably in the fatal province of angola, more than a hundred miles from the coast. he also knew that harris's treason could no longer be doubted. from this fact, the most simple logic led him to conclude that the american and the portuguese had long known each other, that a fatal chance had united them on this coast, and that a plan had been concerted between them, the result of which would be dreadful for the survivors of the "pilgrim." and now, why these odious actions? that negoro wished, at all hazards, to seize tom and his companions, and sell them for slaves in this slave-trading country, might be admitted. that the portuguese, moved by a sentiment of hatred, would seek to be revenged on him, dick sand, who had treated him as he deserved, might also be conceived. but mrs. weldon, this mother, and this young child--what would the wretch do with them? if dick sand could have overheard a little of the conversation between harris and negoro, he would have known what to expect, and what dangers menaced mrs. weldon, the blacks, and himself. the situation was frightful, but the young novice did not yield under it. captain on board, he remained captain on land. he must save mrs. weldon, little jack, all those whose fate heaven had placed in his hands. his task was only commencing. he would accomplish it to the end. after two or three hours, during which the present and the future were summed up in his mind, with their good and their evil chances--the last, alas! the most numerous--dick sand rose, firm and resolved. the first glimmer of light then touched the summits of the forest. with the exception of the novice and tom, all slept. dick sand approached the old black. "tom," he said to him, in a low tone, "you have recognized the roaring of the lion, you have remembered the instruments of the slave-traders. you know that we are in africa!" "yes, mr. dick, i know it." "well, tom, not a word of all that, neither to mrs. weldon nor to your companions. we must be the only ones to know, the only ones to have any fears." "alone--in fact. it is necessary," replied tom. "tom," continued the novice, "we have to watch more carefully than ever. we are in an enemy's country--and what enemies! what a country! to keep our companions on their guard, it will be enough to tell them that we have been betrayed by harris. they will think that we fear an attack from wandering indians, and that will suffice." "you can count absolutely on their courage and devotion, mr. dick." "i know it, as i count on your good sense and your experience. you will come to my help, old tom?" "always, and everywhere, mr. dick." dick sand's plan was accepted and approved by the old black. if harris were detected in open treason before the hour for action, at least the young novice and his companions were not in fear of any immediate danger. in fact, it was the discovery of the irons abandoned by some slaves, and the roaring of the lion, that had caused the american's sudden disappearance. he knew that he was discovered, and he had fled probably before the little party which he guided had reached the place where an attack had been arranged. as for negoro, whose presence dingo had certainly recognized during these last days of the march, he must have rejoined harris, so as to consult with him. at any rate, several hours would pass before dick sand and his friends would be assailed, and it was necessary to profit by them. the only plan was to regain the coast as quickly as possible. this coast, as the young novice had every reason to believe, was that of angola. after having reached it, dick sand would try to gain, either to the north or to the south, the portuguese settlements, where his companions could await in safety some opportunity to return to their country. but, to effect this return to the coast, should they take the road already passed over? dick sand did not think so, and in that he was going to agree with harris, who had clearly foreseen that circumstances would oblige the young novice to shorten the road. in fact, it would have been difficult, not to say imprudent, to recommence this difficult journey through the forest, which, besides, could only tend to bring them out at the place they had started from. this would also allow negoro's accomplices to follow an assured track. the only thing they could do was to cross a river, without leaving any traces, and, later on, to descend its course. at the same time, there was less to fear from an attack by animals, which by a happy chance had so far kept at a good distance. even the animosity of the natives, under these circumstances, seemed less important. once embarked on a solid raft, dick sand and his companions, being well armed, would be in the best condition to defend themselves. the whole thing was to find the river. it must be added that, given the actual state of mrs. weldon and her little jack, this mode of traveling would be the most suitable. arms would not fail to carry the sick child. lacking harris's horse, they could even make a litter of branches, on which mrs. weldon could be borne. but this would require two men out of five, and dick sand wished, with good reason, that all his companions might be free in their movements in case of a sudden attack. and then, in descending the current of a river, the young novice would find himself in his element! the question now was, whether a navigable stream of water existed in the neighborhood. dick sand thought it probable, and for this reason: the river which emptied into the atlantic at the place where the "pilgrim" had stranded could not ascend much to the north, nor much to the east, of the province, because a chain of mountains quite close to them--those which they had mistaken for the cordilleras--shut in the horizon on these two sides. then, either the river descended from these heights, or it made a bend toward the south, and, in these two cases, dick sand could not take long to find the course. perhaps, even before reaching the river--for it had a right to this qualification, being a direct tributary of the ocean--one of its affluents would be met with which would suffice for the transport of the little party. at any rate, a stream of some sort could not be far away. in fact, during the last miles of the journey the nature of the earth had been modified. the declivities diminished and became damp. here and there ran narrow streams, which indicated that the sub-soil enclosed everywhere a watery network. during the last day's march the caravan had kept along one of these rivulets, whose waters, reddened with oxyde of iron, eat away its steep, worn banks. to find it again could not take long, or be very difficult. evidently they could not descend its impetuous course, but it would be easy to follow it to its junction with a more considerable, possibly a navigable, affluent. such was the very simple plan which dick sand determined upon, after having conferred with old tom. day came, all their companions gradually awoke. mrs. weldon placed little jack in nan's arms. the child was drowsy and faded-looking during the intermittent periods, and was sad to see. mrs. weldon approached dick sand. "dick," she asked, after a steady glance, "where is harris? i do not perceive him." the young novice thought that, while letting his companions believe that they were treading on the soil of bolivia, it would not do to hide from them the american's treason. so he said, without hesitation: "harris is no longer here." "has he, then, gone ahead?" asked mrs. weldon. "he has fled, mrs. weldon," replied dick sand. "this harris is a traitor, and it is according to negoro's plan that he led us this far." "for what motive?" quickly asked mrs. weldon. "i do not know," replied dick sand; "but what i do know is, that we must return, without delay, to the coast." "that man--a traitor!" repeated mrs. weldon. "i had a presentiment of it! and you think, dick, that he is in league with negoro?" "that may be, mrs. weldon. the wretch is on our track. chance has brought these two scoundrels together, and--" "and i hope that they will not be separated when i find them again!" said hercules. "i will break the head of one against the other's head!" added the giant, holding out his formidable fists. "but my child!" cried mrs. weldon. "the care that i hoped to find for him at the farm of san felice--" "jack will get well," said old tom, "when he approaches the more healthy part of the coast." "dick," remarked mrs. weldon, "you are sure that this harris has betrayed us?" "yes, mrs. weldon," replied the young novice, who would have liked to avoid any explanation on this subject. he also hastened to add, while looking at the old black: "this very night tom and i discovered his treason, and if he had not jumped on his horse and fled, i would have killed him." "so this farm--" "there is neither farm, nor village, nor settlement in the neighborhood," replied dick sand. "mrs. weldon, i repeat to you, we must return to the coast." "by the same road, dick?" "no, mrs. weldon, but by descending a river which will take us to the sea without fatigue and without danger. a few more miles on foot, and i do not doubt--" "oh, i am strong, dick!" replied mrs. weldon, who struggled against her own weakness. "i will walk! i will carry my child!" "we are here, mrs. weldon," said bat, "and we will carry you!" "yes. yes," added austin. "two branches of a tree, foliage laid across." "thanks, my friends," replied mrs. weldon; "but i want to march. i will march. forward!" "forward!" exclaimed the young novice. "give me jack," said hercules, who took the child from nan's arms. "when i am not carrying something, i am tired." the brave negro gently took in his strong arms the little sleeping boy, who did not even wake. their arms were carefully examined. what remained of the provisions was placed in one package, so as to be carried by one man. austin threw it on his back, and his companions thus became free in their movements. cousin benedict, whose long limbs were like steel and defied all fatigue, was ready to set out. had he remarked harris's disappearance? it would be imprudent to affirm it. little disturbed him. besides, he was under the effects of one of the most terrible catastrophes that could befall him. in fact, a grave complication, cousin benedict had lost his magnifying-glass and his spectacles. very happily, also, but without his suspecting it, bat had found the two precious articles in the tall grass where they had slept, but, by dick sand's advice, he kept them safely. by this means they would be sure that the big child would keep quiet during the march, because he could see no farther, as they say, than the end of his nose. thus, placed between acteon and austin, with the formal injunction not to leave them, the woful benedict uttered no complaint, but followed in his place, like a blind man led by a string. the little party had not gone fifty steps when old tom suddenly stopped it with one word. "dingo?" said he. "in fact, dingo is not here!" replied hercules. the black called the dog several times with his powerful voice. no barking replied to him. dick sand remained silent. the absence of the dog, was to be regretted, for he had preserved the little party from all surprise. "could dingo have followed harris?" asked tom. "harris? no," replied dick sand; "but he may have put himself on negoro's scent. he felt him in our steps." "this cook of misfortune would quickly end him with a ball!" cried hercules. "provided dingo did not first strangle him," replied bat. "perhaps so," replied the young novice. "but we cannot wait for dingo's return. besides, if he is living, the intelligent animal will know how to find us. forward!" the weather was very warm. since daybreak large clouds obscured the horizon. already a storm was threatened in the air. probably the day would not end without some thunder-claps. happily the forest, more or less dense, retained a little freshness of the surface of the soil. here and there great forest trees inclosed prairies covered with a tall, thick grass. in certain spots enormous trunks, already petrified, lay on the ground, indicating the presence of coal mines, which are frequently met with on the african continent. then, in the clearings, where the green carpet was mingled with some sprigs of roses, the flowers were various in color, yellow and blue ginger plants, pale lobelias, red orchids, incessantly visited by the insects which fertilized them. the trees no longer formed impenetrable masses, but their nature was more varied. there were a kind of palm-tree, which gives an oil found only in africa; cotton-trees forming thickets from eight to ten feet high, whose wood-stalks produce a cotton with long hairs, almost analogous to that of fernambouc. from the copals there oozes, by the holes which certain insects make, an odorous gum, which runs along the ground and collects for the wants of the natives. here spread the lemon-trees, the grenadiers of a savage condition of a country, and twenty other odorous plants, which prove the prodigious fertility of this plateau of central africa. in several places, also, the perfume was agreeably mingled with the tine odor of vanilla, although they could not discover what tree exhaled it. this whole collection of trees and plants was perfectly green, although it was in the middle of the dry season, and only rare storms could water these luxuriant forests. it was then the time for fevers; but, as livingstone has observed, they can be cured by leaving the place where they have been contracted. dick sand knew this remark of the great traveler, and he hoped that little jack would not contradict it. he told it to mrs. weldon, after having observed that the periodical access had not returned as they feared, and that the child slept quietly in hercules' arms. thus they went forward carefully and rapidly. sometimes they discovered traces where men or animals had recently passed. the twisted and broken branches of the brushwood and the thickets afforded an opportunity to walk with a more equal step. but the greater part of the time numerous obstacles, which they had to overcome, retarded the little party, to dick sand's great disappointment. there were twisted lianes that might justly be compared with the disordered rigging of a ship, certain vines similar to bent swords, whose blades were ornamented with long thorns, vegetable serpents, fifty or sixty feet long, which had the faculty of turning to prick the passer-by with their sharp spikes. the blacks, hatchet in hand, cut them down with vigorous blows, but the lianes reappeared constantly, reaching from the earth to the top of the highest trees which they encircled. the animal kingdom was not less curious than the vegetable kingdom in this part of the province. birds flew in vast numbers under these powerful branches; but it will be understood that they had no gunshot to fear from the men, who wished to pass as secretly as rapidly. there were guinea fowls in large flocks, heath-cocks of various kinds, very difficult to approach, and some of those birds which the americans of the north have, by onomatopoeia, called "whip-poor-wills," three syllables which exactly reproduce their cries. dick sand and tom might truly have believed themselves in some province of the new continent. but, alas! they knew what to expect. until then the deer, so dangerous in africa, had not approached the little troop. they again saw, in this first halt, some giraffes, which harris had undoubtedly called ostriches. these swift animals passed rapidly, frightened by the apparition of a caravan in these little-frequented forests. in the distance, on the edge of the prairie, there arose at times a thick cloud of dust. it was a herd of buffaloes, which galloped with the noise of wagons heavily laden. for two miles dick sand thus followed the course of the rivulet which must end in a more important river. he was in haste to confide his companions to the rapid current of one of the coast rivers. he felt sure that the dangers and the fatigue would be much less than on the shore. towards noon three miles had been cleared without any bad incident or meeting. there was no trace of either harris or negoro. dingo had not reappeared. it was necessary to halt to take rest and nourishment. the encampment was established in a bamboo thicket, which completely sheltered the little party. they talked very little during this repast. mrs. weldon had taken her little boy in her arms; she could not take her eyes off of him; she could not eat. "you must take some nourishment, mrs. weldon," dick sand repeated several times. "what will become of you if your strength gives out? eat, eat! we will soon start again, and a good current will carry us without fatigue to the coast." mrs. weldon looked in dick sand's face while he thus talked. the young novice's burning eyes spoke of the courage by which he felt animated. in seeing him thus, in observing these brave, devoted blacks, wife and mother, she could not yet despair; and, besides, why was she abandoned? did she not think herself on hospitable ground? harris's treason could not, in her eyes, have any very serious consequences. dick sand read her thought, and he kept his eyes on the ground. * * * * * chapter iv. the bad roads of angola. at this moment little jack awoke, and put his arms around his mother's neck. his eyes looked better. the fever had not returned. "you are better, my darling," said mrs. weldon, pressing the sick child to her heart. "yes, mama," replied jack, "but i am a little thirsty." they could only give the child some fresh water, of which he drank with pleasure. "and my friend dick?" he said. "here i am, jack," replied dick sand, coming to take the young child's hand. "and my friend hercules?" "hercules is here, mr. jack," replied the giant, bringing nearer his good face. "and the horse?" demanded little jack. "the horse? gone, mr. jack," replied hercules. "i will carry you. will you find that i trot too hard?" "no," replied little jack; "but then i shall no longer have any bridle to hold." "oh! you will put a bit in _my_ mouth, if you wish," said hercules, opening his large mouth, "and you may pull back so long as that will give you pleasure." "you know very well that i shall not pull back." "good! you would be wrong! i have a hard mouth." "but mr. harris's farm?" the little boy asked again. "we shall soon arrive there, my jack," replied mrs. weldon. "yes, soon!" "will we set out again?" then said dick sand, in order to cut short this conversation. "yes, dick, let us go," replied mrs. weldon. the camp was broken up, and the march continued again in the same order. it was necessary to pass through the underwood, so as not to leave the course of the rivulet. there had been some paths there, formerly, but those paths were dead, according to the native expression--that is, brambles and brushwood had usurped them. in these painful conditions they might spend three hours in making one mile. the blacks worked without relaxation. hercules, after putting little jack back in nan's arms, took his part of the work; and what a part! he gave stout "heaves," making his ax turn round, and a hole was made before them, as if he had been a devouring fire. fortunately, this fatiguing work would not last. this first mile cleared, they saw a large hole, opened through the underwood, which ended obliquely at the rivulet and followed its bank. it was a passage made by elephants, and those animals, doubtless by hundreds, were in the habit of traversing this part of the forest. great holes, made by the feet of the enormous pachyderms, riddled a soil softened during the rainy season. its spongy nature also prepared it for those large imprints. it soon appeared that this passage did not serve for those gigantic animals alone. human beings had more than once taken this route, but as flocks, brutally led to the slaughter-house, would have followed it. here and there bones of dead bodies strewed the ground; remains of skeletons, half gnawed by animals, some of which still bore the slave's fetters. there are, in central africa, long roads thus marked out by human débris. hundreds of miles are traversed by caravans, and how many unhappy wretches fall by the way, under the agents' whips, killed by fatigue or privations, decimated by sickness! how many more massacred by the traders themselves, when food fails! yes, when they can no longer feed them, they kill them with the gun, with the sword, with the knife! these massacres are not rare. so, then, caravans of slaves had followed this road. for a mile dick sand and his companions struck against these scattered bones at each step, putting to flight enormous fern-owls. those owls rose at their approach, with a heavy flight, and turned round in the air. mrs. weldon looked without seeing. dick sand trembled lest she should question him, for he hoped to lead her back to the coast without telling her that harris's treachery had led them astray in an african province. fortunately, mrs. weldon did not explain to herself what she had under her eyes. she had desired to take her child again, and little jack, asleep, absorbed all her care. nan walked near her, and neither of them asked the young novice the terrible questions he dreaded. old tom went along with his eyes down. he understood only too well why this opening was strewn with human bones. his companions looked to the right, to the left, with an air of surprise, as if they were crossing an interminable cemetery, the tombs of which had been overthrown by a cataclysm; but they passed in silence. meanwhile, the bed of the rivulet became deeper and wider at the same time. its current was less impetuous. dick sand hoped that it would soon become navigable, or that it would before long reach a more important river, tributary to the atlantic. cost what it might, the young novice was determined to follow this stream of water. neither did he hesitate to abandon this opening; because, as ending by an oblique line, it led away from the rivulet. the little party a second time ventured through the dense underwood. they marched, ax in hand, through leaves and bushes inextricably interlaced. but if this vegetation obstructed the ground, they were no longer in the thick forest that bordered the coast. trees became rare. large sheaves of bamboo alone rose above the grass, and so high that even hercules was not a head over them. the passage of the little party was only revealed by the movement of these stalks. toward three o'clock in the afternoon of that day, the nature of the ground totally changed. here were long plains, which must have been entirely inundated in the rainy season. the earth, now more swampy, was carpeted by thick mosses, beneath charming ferns. should it be diversified by any steep ascents, they would see brown hematites appear, the last deposits of some rich vein of mineral. dick sand then recalled--and very fortunately--what he had read in "livingstone's travels." more than once the daring doctor had nearly rested in these marshes, so treacherous under foot. "listen to me, my friends," said he, going ahead. "try the ground before stepping on it." "in fact," replied tom, "they say that these grounds have been softened by the rain; but, however, it has not rained during these last days." "no," replied bat; "but the storm is not far off." "the greater reason," replied dick sand, "why we should hurry and get clear of this swamp before it commences. hercules, take little jack in your arms. bat, austin, keep near mrs. weldon, so as to be able to help her if necessary. you, mr. benedict--why, what are you doing, mr. benedict?" "i am falling!" innocently replied cousin benedict, who had just disappeared as if a trap had been suddenly opened beneath his feet. in fact, the poor man had ventured on a sort of quagmire, and had disappeared half-way in the sticky mud. they stretched out their hands, and he rose, covered with slime, but quite satisfied at not having injured his precious entomologist's box. acteon went beside him, and made it his duty to preserve the unlucky, near-sighted man from any new disasters. besides, cousin benedict had made rather a bad choice of the quagmire for his plunge. when they drew him out of the sticky earth a large quantity of bubbles rose to the surface, and, in bursting, they emitted some gases of a suffocating odor. livingstone, who had been sunk up to his chest in this slime, compared these grounds to a collection of enormous sponges, made of black, porous earth, from which numerous streams of water spouted when they were stepped upon. these places were always very dangerous. for the space of half a mile dick sand and his companions must march over this spongy soil. it even became so bad that mrs. weldon was obliged to stop, for she sank deep in the mire. hercules, bat, and austin, wishing to spare her the unpleasantness more than the fatigue of a passage across this marshy plain, made a litter of bamboos, on which she consented to sit. her little jack was placed in her arms, and they endeavored to cross that pestilential marsh in the quickest manner. the difficulties were great. acteon held cousin benedict firmly. tom aided nan, who, without him, would have disappeared several times in some crevice. the three other blacks carried the litter. at the head, dick sand sounded the earth. the choice of the place to step on was not made without trouble. they marched from preference on the edges, which were covered by a thick and tough grass. often the support failed, and they sank to the knees in the slime. at last, about five o'clock in the evening, the marsh being cleared, the soil regained sufficient firmness, thanks to its clayey nature; but they felt it damp underneath. very evidently these lands lay below the neighboring rivers, and the water ran through their pores. at that time the heat had become overwhelming. it would even have been unbearable, if thick storm clouds had not interposed between the burning rays and the ground. distant lightnings began to rend the sky and low rollings of thunder grumbled in the depths of the heavens. a formidable storm was going to burst forth. now, these cataclysms are terrible in africa: rain in torrents, squalls of wind which the strongest trees cannot resist, clap after clap of thunder, such is the contest of the elements in that latitude. dick sand knew it well, and he became very uneasy. they could not pass the night without shelter. the plain was likely to be inundated, and it did not present a single elevation on which it was possible to seek refuge. but refuge, where would they seek it in this low desert, without a tree, without a bush? the bowels of the earth even would not give it. two feet below the surface they would find water. however, toward the north a series of low hills seemed to limit the marshy plain. it was as the border of this depression of land. a few trees were profiled there on a more distant, clearer belt, left by the clouds on the line of the horizon. there, if shelter were still lacking, the little band would at least no longer risk being caught in a possible inundation. there perhaps was salvation for all. "forward, my friends, forward!" repeated dick sand. "three miles more and we shall be safer than in these bottom-lands." "hurry! hurry!" cried hercules. the brave black would have wished to take that whole world in big arms and carry it alone. those words inspired those courageous men, and in spite of the fatigue of a day's march, they advanced more quickly than they had done at the commencement from the halting-place. when the storm burst forth the end to be attained was still more than two miles off. now--a fact which was the more to be feared--the rain did not accompany the first lightnings exchanged between the ground and the electrical clouds. darkness then became almost complete, though the sun had not disappeared below the horizon. but the dome of vapors gradually lowered, as if it threatened to fall in--a falling in which must result in a torrent of rain. lightnings, red or blue, split it in a thousand places, and enveloped the plain in an inextricable network of fire. twenty times dick and his companions ran the risk of being struck by lightning. on this plateau, deprived of trees, they formed the only projecting points which could attract the electrical discharges. jack, awakened by the noise of the thunder, hid himself in hercules' arms. he was very much afraid, poor little boy, but he did not wish to let his mother see it, for fear of afflicting her more. hercules, while taking great steps, consoled him as well as he could. "do not be afraid, little jack," he repeated. "if the thunder comes near us, i will break it in two with a single hand. i am stronger than it!" and, truly, the giant's strength reassured jack a little. meanwhile the rain must soon fall, and then it would in torrents, poured out by those clouds in condensing. what would become of mrs. weldon and her companions, if they did not find a shelter? dick sand stopped a moment near old tom. "what must be done?" said he. "continue our march, mr. dick," replied tom. "we cannot remain on this plain, that the rain is going to transform into a marsh!" "no, tom, no! but a shelter! where? what? if it were only a hut--" dick sand had suddenly broken off his sentence. a more vivid flash of lightning had just illuminated the whole plain. "what have i seen there, a quarter of a mile off?" exclaimed dick sand. "yes, i also, i have seen--" replied old tom, shaking his head. "a camp, is it not?" "yes, mr. dick, it must be a camp, but a camp of natives!" a new flash enabled them to observe this camp more closely. it occupied a part of the immense plain. there, in fact, rose a hundred conical tents, symmetrically arranged, and measuring from twelve to fifteen feet in height. not a soldier showed himself, however. were they then shut up under their tents, so as to let the storm pass, or was the camp abandoned? in the first case, whatever heaven should threaten, dick sand must flee in the quickest manner. in the second, there was, perhaps, the shelter he asked. "i shall find out," he said to himself; then, addressing old tom: "stay here. let no one follow me. i shall go to reconnoiter that camp." "let one of us accompany you, mr. dick." "no, tom, i shall go alone. i can approach without being seen. stay here." the little troop, that followed tom and dick sand, halted. the young novice left at once and disappeared in the darkness, which was profound when the lightning did not tear the sky. some large drops of rain already began to fall. "what is the matter?" asked mrs. weldon, approaching the old black. "we have perceived a camp, mrs. weldon," replied tom; "a camp--or, perhaps, a village, and our captain wished to reconnoiter it before leading us to it." mrs. weldon was satisfied with this reply. three minutes after, dick sand was returning. "come! come!" he cried, in a voice which expressed his entire satisfaction. "the camp is abandoned?" asked tom. "it is not a camp," replied the young novice; "it is not a village. they are ant-hills!" "ant-hills!" exclaimed cousin benedict, whom that word aroused. "yes, mr. benedict, but ant-hills twelve feet high, at least, and in which we shall endeavor to hide ourselves." "but then," replied cousin benedict, "those would be ant-hills of the warlike termite or of the devouring termite. only those ingenious insects raise such monuments, which the greatest architects would not disown." "whether they be termites or not, mr. benedict," replied dick sand, "we must dislodge them and take their place." "they will devour us. they will be defending their rights." "forward! forward!" "but, wait now!" said cousin benedict again. "i thought those ant-hills only existed in africa." "forward!" exclaimed dick sand, for the last time, with a sort of violence. he was so much afraid that mrs. weldon might hear the last word pronounced by the entomologist. they followed dick sand with all haste. a furious wind had sprung up. large drops crackled on the ground. in a few moments the squalls of wind would become unbearable. soon one of those cones which stood on the plain was reached. no matter how threatening the termites might be, the human beings must not hesitate. if they could not drive the insects away, they must share their abode. at the bottom of this cone, made with a kind of reddish clay, there was a very narrow hole. hercules enlarged it with his cutlass in a few moments, so as to give a passage even to a man like himself. to cousin benedict's extreme surprise, not one of the thousands of termites that ought to occupy the ant-hill showed itself. was, then, the cone abandoned? the hole enlarged, dick and his companions glided into it. hercules disappeared the last, just as the rain fell with such rage that it seemed to extinguish the lightnings. but those wind squalls were no longer to be feared. a happy chance had furnished this little troop with a solid shelter, better than a tent, better than a native's hut. it was one of those termite cones that, according to lieutenant cameron's comparison, are more astonishing than the pyramids of egypt, raised by the hands of men, because they have been built by such small insects. "it is," said he, "as if a nation had built mount everest, the highest mountain of the himalaya chain." chapter v. ants and their dwelling. at this moment the storm burst with a violence unknown in temperate latitudes. it was providential that dick sand and his companions had found this refuge! in fact, the rain did not fall in distinct drops, but in streams of various thickness. sometimes it was a compact mass forming a sheet of water, like a cataract, a niagara. imagine an aerial basin, containing a whole sea, being upset. under such showers the ground was hollowed out, the plains were changed to lakes, the streams to torrents, the rivers, overflowing, inundated vast territories. in temperate zones the violence of the storms decreases according to their duration; but in africa, however heavy they are, they continue for several entire days. how can so much electricity be collected in the clouds? how can such quantities of vapor be accumulated? it is very difficult to comprehend this. however, such are the facts, and one might suppose himself transported to the extraordinary epochs of the diluvian period. fortunately, the ant-cone, with its thick walls, was perfectly impervious. a beaver's hut, of well-beaten earth, could not have been more water-tight. a torrent could have passed over it without a single drop of water filtering through its pores. as soon as dick sand and his companions had taken possession of the cone they occupied themselves in examining its interior arrangement. the lantern was lighted, and the ant-hill was sufficiently illuminated. this cone, which measured twelve feet in height inside, was eleven feet wide, except in its upper part, which rounded in the form of a sugar loaf. everywhere the walls were about one foot in thickness, and there was a distance between the stories of cells which adorned them. we may be astonished at the construction of such monuments, due to these industrious swarms of insects, but it is true that they are frequently found in the interior of africa. smeathman, a dutch traveler of the last century, with four of his companions, occupied the top of one of these cones. in the lounde, livingstone observed several of these ant-hills, built of reddish clay, and attaining a height of fifteen and twenty feet. lieutenant cameron has many a time mistaken for a camp these collections of cones which dotted the plain in n'yangwe. he has even stopped at the foot of great edifices, not more than twenty feet high, but composed of forty or fifty enormous rounded cones, flanked with bell-towers like the dome of a cathedral, such as southern africa possesses. to what species of ant was due, then, the prodigious style of architecture of these cones? "to the warlike termite," cousin benedict had replied, without hesitating, as soon as he had recognized the nature of the materials employed in their construction. and, in fact, the walls, as has been said, were made of reddish clay. had they been formed of a gray or black alluvian earth, they must have been attributed to the "termes mordax" or the "termes atrox." as we see, these insects have not very cheering names--a fact which cannot but please a strong entomologist, such as cousin benedict. the central part of the cone, in which the little troop had first found shelter, and which formed the empty interior, would not have contained them; but large cavities, in close contact, made a number of divisions, in which a person of medium height could find refuge. imagine a succession of open drawers, and at the bottom of those drawers millions of cells which the termites had occupied, and the interior disposition of the ant-hill is easily understood. to sum up, these drawers are in tiers, like the berths in a ship's cabin. in the upper ones mrs. weldon, little jack, nan, and cousin benedict took refuge. in the lower row austin, bat, and acteon hid themselves. as for dick sand, tom, and hercules, they remained in the lower part of the cone. "my friends," then said the young novice to the two blacks, "the ground is becoming damp. we must fill it up by crumbling the red clay from the base; but take care not to obstruct the hole by which the air enters. we cannot risk being smothered in this ant-hill." "we have only one night to spend here," replied old tom. "well, let us try and make it recover us from our fatigue. this is the first time in ten days that we have not to sleep in the open air." "ten days!" repeated tom. "besides," added dick sand, "as this cone forms a solid shelter, perhaps we had better stay here twenty-four hours. during that time, i will go in search of the stream that we are in need of; it cannot be very distant. i think that until we have constructed our raft, it will be better not to quit this shelter. the storm cannot reach us here. let us make the floor stronger and dryer." dick sand's orders were executed at once. hercules, with his ax, crumbled the first story of cells, which was composed of crisp red clay. he thus raised, more than a foot, the interior part of the swampy earth on which the ant-hill rested, and dick sand made sure that the air could freely penetrate to the interior of the cone through the orifice pierced at its base. it was, certainly, a fortunate circumstance that the ant-hill had been abandoned by the termites. with a few thousands of these ants, it would have been uninhabitable. but, had it been evacuated for some time, or had the voracious newroptera but just quitted it? it was not superfluous to ponder this question. cousin benedict was so much surprised at the abandonment, that he at once considered the reason for it, and he was soon convinced that the emigration had been recent. in fact, he did not wait, but, descending to the lower part of the cone, and taking the lantern, he commenced to examine the most secret corners of the ant-hill. he thus discovered what is called the "general store-house" of the termites, that is to say, the place where these industrious insects lay up the provisions of the colony. it was a cavity hollowed in the wall, not far from the royal cell, which hercules's labor had destroyed, along with the cells destined for the young larvae. in this store-room cousin benedict collected a certain quantity of particles of gum and the juices of plants, scarcely solidified, which proved that the termites had lately brought them from without. "well, no!" cried he. "no!" as if he were replying to some contradiction, "no, this ant-hill has not been long abandoned." "who says to the contrary, mr. benedict?" said dick sand. "recently or not, the important thing for us is that the termites have left it, because we have to take their place." "the important thing," replied cousin benedict, "will be to know why they have left it. yesterday--this morning, perhaps--these sagacious newroptera were still here, because, see these liquid juices; and this evening----" "well, what do you conclude, mr. benedict?" asked dick sand. "that a secret presentiment has caused them to abandon the cone. not only have all the termites left their cells, but they have taken care to carry away the young larvae, of which i cannot find one. well, i repeat that all this was not done without a motive, and that these sagacious insects foresaw some near danger." "they foresaw that we were going to invade their dwelling," replied hercules, laughing. "indeed!" replied cousin benedict, whom this answer sensibly shocked. "you think yourself so strong that you would be dangerous to these courageous insects? a few thousand of these newroptera would quickly reduce you to a skeleton if they found you dead on the road." "dead, certainly," replied hercules, who would not give up; "but, living, i could crush masses of them." "you might crush a hundred thousand, five hundred thousand, a million," replied cousin benedict, with animation, "but not a thousand millions; and a thousand millions would devour you, living or dead, to the last morsel." during this discussion, which was less trifling than might be supposed, dick sand reflected on the observations made by cousin benedict. there was no doubt that the savant knew too much about the habits of the termites to be mistaken. if he declared that a secret instinct warned them to leave the ant-hill recently, it was because there was truly peril in remaining in it. meanwhile, as it was impossible to abandon this shelter at a moment when the storm was raging with unparalleled intensity, dick sand looked no farther for an explanation of what seemed to be inexplicable, and he contented himself with saying: "well, mr. benedict, if the termites have left their provisions in this ant-hill, we must not forget that we have brought ours, and let us have supper. to-morrow, when the storm will be over, we will consult together on our future plans." they then occupied themselves in preparing the evening meal, for, great as their fatigue was, it had not affected the appetite of these vigorous walkers. on the contrary, the food, which had to last for two more days, was very welcome. the damp had not reached the biscuits, and for several minutes it could be heard cracking under the solid teeth of dick sand and his companions. between hercules's jaws it was like grain under the miller's grindstone. it did not crackle, it powdered. mrs. weldon alone scarcely eat, and even dick sand's entreaties were vain. it seemed to him that this brave woman was more preoccupied, more sad than she had been hitherto. meanwhile her little jack suffered less; the fever had not returned, and at this time he was sleeping, under his mother's eyes, in a cell well lined with garments. dick sand knew not what to think. it is useless to say that cousin benedict did honor to the repast, not that he paid any attention either to the quality or to the quantity of the food that he devoured, but because he had found an opportunity to deliver a lecture in entomology on the termites. ah! if he had been able to find a termite, a single one, in the deserted ant hill! but nothing. "these admirable insects," said he, without taking the trouble to find out if any one were listening--"these admirable insects belong to the marvelous order of newroptera, whose horns are longer than the head, the jaws very distinct, and whose lower wings are generally equal to the upper ones. five tribes constitute this order: the panorpates (scorpion flies), the myrmileoniens, the hemerobins, the termitines and the perlides. it is useless to add that the insects which now interest us, and whose dwelling we occupy, perhaps unduly, are the termitines." at this moment dick sand listened very attentively to cousin benedict. had the meeting with these termites excited in him the thought that he was perhaps on the african continent, without knowing by what chance he had arrived there? the young novice was very anxious to find out. the savant, mounted on his favorite hobby, continued to ride it beautifully. "now these termitines," said he, "are characterized by four joints on the instep, horned jaws, and remarkable strength. we have the _mantispe_ species, the _raphidie_, and the termite species. the last is often known under the term of white ants, in which we count the deadly termite, the yellow corslet termite, the termite that shuns the light, the biter, the destroyer--" "and those that constructed this ant-hill?" asked dick sand. "they are the martial ants," replied cousin benedict, who pronounced this word as if it had been the macedonians, or some other ancient people brave in war. "yes, the warlike ants, and of all sizes. between hercules and a dwarf the difference would be less than between the largest of these insects and the smallest. among them are 'workers' of five millimeters in length 'soldiers' of ten, and males and females of twenty. we find also a kind otherwise very curious: the _sirafous_ half an inch in length, which have pincers for jaws, and a head larger than the body, like the sharks. they are the sharks among insects, and in a fight between some _sirafous_ and a shark, i would bet on the _sirafous_." "and where are these _sirafous_ commonly observed?" then asked dick sand. "in africa," replied cousin benedict; "in the central and southern provinces. africa is, in fact, the country of ants. you should read what livingstone says of them in the last notes reported by stanley. more fortunate than myself, the doctor has witnessed a homeric battle, joined between an army of black ants and an army of red ants. the latter, which are called 'drivers,' and which the natives name _sirafous_, were victorious. "the others, the '_tchoungous_,' took flight, carrying their eggs and their young, not without having bravely defended themselves. never, according to livingstone, never was the spirit of battle carried farther, either among men or beasts! with their tenacious jaws, which tear out the piece, these _sirafous_ make the bravest man recoil. the largest animals--even lions and elephants--flee before them. "nothing stops them; neither trees, which they climb to the summit, nor streams, which they cross by making a suspension bridge of their own bodies, hooked together. and numerous! another african traveler--du chaillu--has seen a column of these ants defile past him for twelve hours without stopping on the road. but why be astonished at the sight of such myriads? the fecundity of these insects is surprising; and, to return to our fighting termites, it has been proved that a female deposits as much as sixty thousand eggs in a day! besides, these newroptera furnish the natives with a juicy food. broiled ants, my friends; i know of nothing better in the world!" "have you then eaten them, mr. benedict?" asked hercules. "never," replied the wise professor; "but i shall eat some." "where?" "here." "here; we are not in africa!" said tom, very quickly. "no, no!" replied cousin benedict; "and, thus far, these warlike termites, and their villages of ant-hills, have only been observed on the african continent. ah! such travelers. they do not know how to see! well! all the better, after all. i have discovered a _tsetse_ in america. to the glory of this, i shall join that of having found the warlike termites on the same continent! what matter for an article that will make a sensation in educated europe, and, perhaps, appear in folio form, with prints and engravings, besides the text!" it was evident that the truth had not entered cousin benedict's brain. the poor man and all his companions, dick sand and tom excepted, believed themselves, and must believe themselves, where they were not! it needed other incidents, facts still more grave than certain scientific curiosities, to undeceive them! it was then nine o'clock in the morning. cousin benedict had talked for a long time. did he perceive that his auditors, propped up in their cells, had gradually fallen asleep during his entomological lecture? no; certainly not. he lectured for himself. dick sand no longer questioned him, and remained motionless, although he did not sleep. as for hercules, he had resisted longer than the others; but fatigue soon finished by shutting his eyes, and, with his eyes, his ears. for some time longer cousin benedict continued to lecture. however, sleep finally got the best of him, and he mounted to the upper cavity of the cone, in which he had chosen his domicile. deep silence fell on the interior of the cone, while the storm filled space with noise and fire. nothing seemed to indicate that the tempest was nearly over. the lantern had been extinguished. the interior of the ant-hill was plunged in complete darkness. no doubt all slept. however, dick sand, alone, did not seek in sleep the repose which was so necessary to him. thought absorbed him. he dreamed of his companions, whom he would save at all hazards. the wrecking of the "pilgrim" had not been the end of their cruel trials, and others, still more terrible, threatened them should they fall into the hands of these natives. and how to avoid this danger, the worst of all, during their return to the coast. harris and negoro had not led them a hundred miles into the interior of angola without a secret design to gain possession of them. but what did this miserable portuguese intend? who had merited his hatred? the young novice repeated to himself, that he alone had incurred it. then he passed in review all the incidents that had taken place during the "pilgrim's" voyage; the meeting with the wreck and the blacks; the pursuit of the whale; the disappearance of captain hull and his crew. dick sand had found himself, at the age of fifteen, intrusted with the command of a vessel, the compass and log of which were soon injured by negoro's criminal actions. he again saw himself using his authority in the presence of this insolent cook, threatening to put him in irons, or to blow out his brains with a pistol shot. ah, why had he hesitated to do it? negoro's corpse would have been thrown overboard, and none of these catastrophes would have happened. such were the young man's various thoughts. then they dwelt a moment on the shipwreck which had ended the "pilgrim's" voyage. the traitor harris appeared then, and this province of south america gradually became transformed. bolivia changed to the terrible angola, with its feverish climate, its savage deer, its natives still more cruel. could the little party escape during its return to the coast? this river which he was seeking, which he hoped to find, would it conduct them to the shore with more safety, and with less fatigue? he would not doubt it, for he knew well that a march of a hundred miles through this inhospitable country, in the midst of incessant dangers, was no longer possible. "happily," he said to himself, "mrs. weldon and all are ignorant of the danger of the situation. old tom and i, we alone are to know that negoro has thrown us on the coast of africa; and that harris has led me into the wilds of angola." dick sand was thus sunk in overpowering thoughts, when he felt a breath on his forehead. a hand rested on his shoulder, and a trembling voice murmured these words in his ear: "i know all, my poor dick, but god can yet save us! his will be done!" chapter vi. the diving-bell. to this unexpected revelation dick sand could not reply. besides, mrs. weldon had gone back at once to her place beside little jack. she evidently did not wish to say any more about it, and the young novice had not the courage to detain her. thus mrs. weldon knew what to believe. the various incidents, of the way had enlightened her also, and perhaps, too, that word, "africa!" so unluckily pronounced the night before by cousin benedict. "mrs. weldon knows everything," repeated dick sand to himself. "well, perhaps it is better so. the brave woman does not despair. i shall not despair either." dick sand now longed for day to return, that he might explore the surroundings of this termite village. he must find a tributary of the atlantic with a rapid course to transport all his little troop. he had a presentiment that this watercourse could not be far distant. above all, they must avoid an encounter with the natives, perhaps already sent in pursuit of them under harris's and negoro's direction. but it was not day yet. no light made its way into the cone through the lower orifice. rumblings, rendered low by the thickness of the walls, indicated that the storm still raged. listening, dick sand also heard the rain falling with violence at the base of the ant-hill. as the large drops no longer struck a hard soil, he must conclude that the whole plain was inundated. it must have been about eleven o'clock. dick sand then felt that a kind of torpor, if not a true sleep, was going to overcome him. it would, however, be rest. but, just as he was yielding to it, the thought came to him that, by the settling of the clay, washed in, the lower orifice was likely to be obstructed. all passage for the outer air would be closed. within, the respiration of ten persons would soon vitiate the air by loading it with carbonic acid. dick sand then slipped to the ground, which had been raised by the clay from the first floor of cells. that cushion was still perfectly dry, and the orifice entirely free. the air penetrated freely to the interior of the cone, and with it some flashes of lightning, and the loud noises of that storm, that a diluvian rain could not extinguish. dick sand saw that all was well. no immediate danger seemed to menace these human termites, substituted for the colony of newroptera. the young novice then thought of refreshing himself by a few hours' sleep, as he already felt its influence. only with supreme precaution dick sand lay on that bed of clay, at the bottom of the cone, near the narrow edifice. by this means, if any accident happened outside, he would be the first to remark it. the rising day would also awaken him, and he would be ready to begin the exploration of the plain. dick sand lay down then, his head against the wall, his gun under his hand, and almost immediately he was asleep. how long this drowsiness lasted he could not tell, when he was awakened by a lively sensation of coolness. he rose and recognized, not without great anxiety, that the water was invading the ant hill, and even so rapidly, that in a few seconds it would reach the story of cells occupied by tom and hercules. the latter, awakened by dick sand, were told about this new complication. the lighted lantern soon showed the interior of the cone. the water had stopped at a height of about five feet, and remained stationary. "what is the matter, dick?" asked mrs. weldon. "it is nothing," replied the young novice. "the lower part of the cone has been inundated. it is probably that during this storm a neighboring river has overflowed on this plain." "good!" said hercules; "that proves the river is there!" "yes," replied dick sand, "and it will carry us to the coast. be reassured, then, mrs. weldon; the water cannot reach you, nor little jack, nor nan, nor mr. benedict." mrs. weldon did not reply. as to the cousin, he slept like a veritable termite. meanwhile the blacks, leaning over this sheet of water, which reflected the lantern's light, waited for dick sand to indicate to them what should be done. he was measuring the height of the inundation. after having the provisions and arms put out of the reach of the inundation, dick sand was silent. "the water has penetrated by the orifice," said tom. "yes," replied dick sand, "and now it prevents the interior air from being renewed." "could we not make a hole in the wall above the level of the water?" asked the old black. "doubtless, tom; but if we have five feet of water within, there are perhaps six or seven, even more, without." "you think, mr. dick--?" "i think, tom, that the water, rising inside the ant-hill, has compressed the air in the upper part, and that this air now makes an obstacle to prevent the water from rising higher. but if we pierce a hole in the wall by which the air would escape, either the water would still rise till it reached the outside level, or if it passed the hole, it would rise to that point where the compressed air would again keep it back. we must be here like workmen in a diving-bell." "what must be done?" asked tom. "reflect well before acting," replied dick sand. "an imprudence might cost us our lives!" the young novice's observation was very true. in comparing the cone to a submerged bell, he was right. only in that apparatus the air is constantly renewed by means of pumps. the divers breathe comfortably, and they suffer no other inconveniences than those resulting from a prolonged sojourn in a compressed atmosphere, no longer at a normal pressure. but here, beside those inconveniences, space was already reduced a third by the invasion of the water. as to the air, it would only be renewed if they put it in communication with the outer atmosphere by means of a hole. could they, without running the danger spoken of by dick sand, pierce that hole? would not the situation be aggravated by it? what was certain was, that the water now rested at a level which only two causes could make it exceed, namely: if they pierced a hole, and the level of the rising waters was higher outside, or if the height of this rising water should still increase. in either of these cases, only a narrow space would remain inside the cone, where the air, not renewed, would be still more compressed. but might not the ant-hill be torn from the ground and overthrown by the inundation, to the extreme danger of those within it? no, no more than a beaver's hut, so firmly did it adhere by its base. then, the event most to be feared was the persistence of the storm, and, consequently, the increase of the inundation. thirty feet of water on the plain would cover the cone with eighteen feet of water, and bear on the air within with the pressure of an atmosphere. now, after reflecting well upon it, dick sand was led to fear that this inundation might increase considerably. in fact, it could not be due solely to that deluge poured out by the clouds. it seemed more probable that a neighboring watercourse, swelled by the storm, had burst its banks, and was spreading over this plain lying below it. what proof had they that the ant-hill was not then entirely submerged, and that it was full time to leave it by the top part, which would not be difficult to demolish? dick sand, now extremely anxious, asked himself what he ought to do. must he wait or suddenly announce the probable result of the situation, after ascertaining the condition of things? it was then three o'clock in the morning. all, motionless, silent, listened. the noise from outside came very feebly through the obstructed orifice. all the time a dull sound, strong and continued, well indicated that the contest of the elements had not ceased. at that moment old tom observed that the water level was gradually rising. "yes," replied dick sand, "and if it rises, as the air cannot escape from within, it is because the rising of the waters increases and presses it more and more." "it is but slight so far," said tom. "without doubt," replied dick sand; "but where will this level stop?" "mr. dick," asked bat, "would you like me to go out of the ant-hill? by diving, i should try to slip out by the hole." "it will be better for me to try it," replied dick sand. "no, mr. dick, no," replied old tom, quickly; "let my son do it, and trust to his skill. in case he could not return, your presence is necessary here." then, lower: "do not forget mrs. weldon and little jack." "be it so," replied dick sand. "go, then, bat. if the ant-hill is submerged, do not seek to enter it again. we shall try to come out as you will have done. but if the cone still emerges, strike on its top with the ax that you will take with you. we will hear you, and it will be the signal for us to demolish the top from our side. you understand?" "yes, mr. dick," replied bat. "go, then, boy," added old tom, pressing his son's hand. bat, after laying in a good provision of air by a long aspiration, plunged under the liquid mass, whose depth then exceeded five feet. it was a rather difficult task, because he would have to seek the lower orifice, slip through it, and then rise to the outside surface of the waters. that must be done quickly. nearly half a minute passed away. dick sand then thought that bat had succeeded in passing outside when the black emerged. "well!" exclaimed dick sand. "the hole is stopped up by rubbish!" replied bat, as soon as he could take breath. "stopped up!" repeated tom. "yes," replied bat. "the water has probably diluted the clay. i have felt around the walls with my hand. there is no longer any hole." dick sand shook his head. his companions and he were hermetically sequestered in this cone, perhaps submerged by the water. "if there is no longer any hole," then said hercules, "we must make one." "wait," replied the young novice, stopping hercules, who, hatchet in hand, was preparing to dive. dick sand reflected for a few moments, and then he said: "we are going to proceed in another manner. the whole question is to know whether the water covers the ant-hill or not. if we make a small opening at the summit of the cone, we shall find out which it is. but in case the ant-hill should be submerged now, the water would fill it entirely, and we would be lost. let us feel our way." "but quickly," replied tom. in fact, the level continued to rise gradually. there were then six feet of water inside the cone. with the exception of mrs. weldon, her son, cousin benedict, and nan, who had taken refuge in the upper cavities, all were immersed to the waist. then there was a necessity for quick action, as dick sand proposed. it was one foot above the interior level, consequently seven feet from the ground, that dick sand resolved to pierce a hole in the clay wall. if, by this hole, they were in communication with the outer air, the cone emerges. if, on the contrary, this hole was pierced below the water level outside, the air would be driven inward, and in that case they must stop it up at once, or the water would rise to its orifice. then they would commence again a foot higher, and so on. if, at last, at the top, they did not yet find the outer air, it was because there was a depth of more than fifteen feet of water in the plain, and that the whole termite village had disappeared under the inundation. then what chance had the prisoners in the ant-hill to escape the most terrible of deaths, death by slow asphyxia? dick sand knew all that, but he did not lose his presence of mind for a moment. he had closely calculated the consequences of the experiment he wished to try. besides, to wait longer was not possible. asphyxia was threatening in this narrow space, reduced every moment, in a medium already saturated with carbonic acid. the best tool dick sand could employ to pierce a hole through the wall was a ramrod furnished with a screw, intended to draw the wadding from a gun. by making it turn rapidly, this screw scooped out the clay like an auger, and the hole was made little by little. then it would not have a larger diameter than that of the ramrod, but that would be sufficient. the air could come through very well. hercules holding up the lantern lighted dick sand. they had some wax candles to take its place, and they had not to fear lack of light from that source. a minute after the beginning of the operation, the ramrod went freely through the wall. at once a rather dull noise was produced, resembling that made by globules of air escaping through a column of water. the air escaped, and, at the same moment, the level of the water rose in the cone, and stopped at the height of the hole. this proved that they had pierced too low--that is to say, below the liquid mass. "begin again," the young novice said, coolly, after rapidly stopping the hole with a handful of clay. the water was again stationary in the cone, but the reserved space had diminished more than eight inches. respiration became difficult, for the oxygen was beginning to fail. they saw it also by the lantern's light, which reddened and lost a part of its brightness. one foot above the first hole, dick sand began at once to pierce a second by the same process. if the experiment failed, the water would rise still higher inside the cone--but that risk must be run. while dick sand was working his auger, they heard cousin benedict cry out, suddenly: "mercy! look--look--look why!" hercules raised his lantern and threw its light on cousin benedict, whose face expressed the most perfect satisfaction. "yes," repeated he, "look why those intelligent termites have abandoned the ant-hill! they had felt the inundation beforehand. ah! instinct, my friends, instinct. the termites are wiser than we are, much wiser." and that was all the moral cousin benedict drew from the situation. at that moment dick sand drew out the ramrod, which had penetrated the wall. a hissing was produced. the water rose another foot inside the cone--the hole had not reached the open air outside. the situation was dreadful. mrs. weldon, then almost reached by the water, had raised little jack in her arms. all were stifling in this narrow space. their ears buzzed. the lantern only threw a faint light. "is the cone, then, entirely under water?" murmured dick sand. he must know; and, in order to know, he must pierce a third hole, at the very top. but it was asphyxia, it was immediate death, if the result of this last attempt should prove fruitless. the air remaining inside would escape through the upper sheet of water, and the water would fill the whole cone. "mrs. weldon," then said dick sand, "you know the situation. if we delay, respirable air will fail us. if the third attempt fails, water will fill all this space. our only chance is that the summit of the cone is above the level of the inundation. we must try this last experiment. are you willing?" "do it, dick!" replied mrs. weldon. at that moment the lantern went out in that medium already unfit for combustion. mrs. weldon and her companions were plunged in the most complete darkness. dick sand was perched on hercules's shoulders. the latter was hanging on to one of the lateral cavities. only his head was above the bed of water. mrs. weldon, jack, and cousin benedict were in the last story of cells. dick sand scratched the wall, and his ramrod pierced the clay rapidly. in this place the wall, being thicker and harder also, was more difficult to penetrate. dick sand hastened, not without terrible anxiety, for by this narrow opening either life was going to penetrate with the air, or with the water it was death. suddenly a sharp hissing was heard. the compressed air escaped--but a ray of daylight filtered through the wall. the water only rose eight inches, and stopped, without dick sand being obliged to close the hole. the equilibrium was established between the level within and that outside. the summit of the cone emerged. mrs. weldon and her companions were saved. at once, after a frantic hurra, in which hercules's thundering voice prevailed, the cutlasses were put to work. the summit, quickly attacked, gradually crumbled. the hole was enlarged, the pure air entered in waves, and with it the first rays of the rising sun. the top once taken off the cone, it would be easy to hoist themselves on to its wall, and they would devise means of reaching some neighboring height, above all inundations. dick sand first mounted to the summit of the cone. a cry escaped him. that particular noise, too well known by african travelers, the whizzing of arrows, passed through the air. dick sand had had time to perceive a camp a hundred feet from the ant-hill, and ten feet from the cone, on the inundated plain, long boats, filled with natives. it was from one of those boats that the flight of arrows had come the moment the young novice's head appeared out of the hole. dick sand, in a word, had told all to his companions. seizing his gun, followed by hercules, acteon, and bat, he reappeared at the summit of the cone, and all fired on one of the boats. several natives fell, and yells, accompanied by shots, replied to the detonation of the fire-arms. but what could dick sand and his companions do against a hundred africans, who surrounded them on all sides? the ant-hill was assailed. mrs. weldon, her child, and cousin benedict, all were brutally snatched from it, and without having had time to speak to each other or to shake hands for the last time, they saw themselves separated from each other, doubtless in virtue of orders previously given. a last boat took away mrs. weldon, little jack and cousin benedict. dick sand saw them disappear in the middle of the camp. as to him, accompanied by nan, old tom, hercules, bat, acteon and austin, he was thrown into a second boat, which went toward another point of the hill. twenty natives entered this boat. it was followed by five others. resistance was not possible, and nevertheless, dick sand and his companions attempted it. some soldiers of the caravan were wounded by them, and certainly they would have paid for this resistance with their lives, if there had not been a formal order to spare them. in a few minutes, the passage was made. but just as the boat landed, hercules, with an irresistible bound, sprang on the ground. two natives having sprung on him, the giant turned his gun like a club, and the natives fell, with their skulls broken. a moment after, hercules disappeared under the cover of the trees, in the midst of a shower of balls, as dick sand and his companions, having been put on land, were chained like slaves. chapter vii. in camp on the banks of the coanza. the aspect of the country was entirely changed since the inundation. it had made a lake of the plain where the termite village stood. the cones of twenty ant-hills emerged, and formed the only projecting points on this large basin. the coanza had overflowed during the night, with the waters of its tributaries swelled by the storm. this coanza, one of the rivers of angola, flows into the atlantic, a hundred miles from the cape where the "pilgrim" was wrecked. it was this river that lieutenant cameron had to cross some years later, before reaching benguela. the coanza is intended to become the vehicle for the interior transit of this portion of the portuguese colony. already steamers ascend its lower course, and before ten years elapse, they will ply over its upper bed. dick sand had then acted wisely in seeking some navigable river toward the north. the rivulet he had followed had just been emptied into the coanza. only for this sudden attack, of which he had had no intimation to put him on his guard, he would have found the coanza a mile farther on. his companions and he would have embarked on a raft, easily constructed, and they would have had a good chance to descend the stream to the portuguese villages, where the steamers come into port. there, their safety would be secured. it would not be so. the camp, perceived by dick sand, was established on an elevation near the ant-hill, into which fate had thrown him, as in a trap. at the summit of that elevation rose an enormous sycamore fig-tree, which would easily shelter five hundred men under its immense branches. those who have not seen those giant trees of central africa, can form no idea of them. their branches form a forest, and one could be lost in it. farther on, great banyans, of the kind whose seeds do not change into fruits, completed the outline of this vast landscape. it was under the sycamore's shelter, hidden, as in a mysterious asylum, that a whole caravan--the one whose arrival harris had announced to negoro--had just halted. this numerous procession of natives, snatched from their villages by the trader alvez's agents, were going to the kazounde market. thence the slaves, as needed, would be sent either to the barracks of the west coast, or to n'yangwe, toward the great lake region, to be distributed either in upper egypt, or in the factories of zanzibar. as soon as they arrived at the camp, dick sand and his companions had been treated as slaves. old tom, his son austin, acteon, poor nan, negroes by birth, though they did not belong to the african race, were treated like captive natives. after they were disarmed, in spite of the strongest resistance, they were held by the throat, two by two, by means of a pole six or seven feet long, forked at each end, and closed by an iron rod. by this means they were forced to march in line, one behind the other, unable to get away either to the right or to the left. as an over precaution, a heavy chain was attached to their waists. they had their arms free, to carry burdens, their feet free to march, but they could not use them to flee. thus they were going to travel hundreds of miles under an overseer's lash. placed apart, overcome by the reaction which followed the first moments of their struggle against the negroes, they no longer made a movement. why had they not been able to follow hercules in his flight? and, meanwhile, what could they hope for the fugitive? strong as he was, what would become of him in that inhospitable country, where hunger, solitude, savage beasts, natives, all were against him? would he not soon regret his companion's fate? they, however, had no pity to expect from the chiefs of the caravan, arabs or portuguese, speaking a language they could not understand. these chiefs only entered into communication with their prisoners by menacing looks and gestures. dick sand himself was not coupled with any other slave. he was a white man, and probably they had not dared to inflict the common treatment on him. unarmed, he had his feet and hands free, but a driver watched him especially. he observed the camp, expecting each moment to see negoro or harris appear. his expectation was in vain. he had no doubt, however, that those two miserable men had directed the attack against the ant-hill. thus the thought came to him that mrs. weldon, little jack, and cousin benedict had been led away separately by orders from the american or from the portuguese. seeing neither one nor the other, he said to himself that perhaps the two accomplices even accompanied their victims. where were they leading them? what would they do with them? it was his most cruel care. dick sand forgot his own situation to think only of mrs. weldon and hers. the caravan, camped under the gigantic sycamore, did not count less than eight hundred persons, say five hundred slaves of both sexes, two hundred soldiers, porters, marauders, guards, drivers, agents, or chiefs. these chiefs were of arab and portugese origin. it would be difficult to imagine the cruelties that these inhuman beings inflicted on their captives. they struck them without relaxation, and those who fell exhausted, not fit to be sold, were finished with gunshots or the knife. thus they hold them by terror. but the result of this system is, that on the arrival of the caravan, fifty out of a hundred slaves are missing from the trader's list. a few may have escaped, but the bones of those who died from torture mark out the long routes from the interior to the coast. it is supposed that the agents of european origin, portuguese for the most part, are only rascals whom their country has rejected, convicts, escaped prisoners, old slave-drivers whom the authorities have been unable to hang--in a word, the refuse of humanity. such was negoro, such was harris, now in the service of one of the greatest contractors of central africa, jose-antonio alvez, well known by the traders of the province, about whom lieutenant cameron has given some curious information. the soldiers who escort the captives are generally natives in the pay of the traders. but the latter have not the monopoly of those raids which procure the slaves for them. the negro kings also make atrocious wars with each other, and with the same object. then the vanquished adults, the women and children, reduced to slavery, are sold by the vanquishers for a few yards of calico, some powder, a few firearms, pink or red pearls, and often even, as livingstone says, in periods of famine, for a few grains of maize. the soldiers who escorted old alvez's caravan might give a true idea of what african armies are. it was an assemblage of negro bandits, hardly clothed, who brandished long flint-lock guns, the gun-barrels garnished with a great number of copper rings. with such an escort, to which are joined marauders who are no better, the agents often have all they can do. they dispute orders, they insist on their own halting places and hours, they threaten to desert, and it is not rare for the agents to be forced to yield to the exactions of this soldiery. though the slaves, men or women, are generally subjected to carry burdens while the caravan is on the march, yet a certain number of porters accompany it. they are called more particularly "pagazis," and they carry bundles of precious objects, principally ivory. such is the size of these elephants' teeth sometimes, of which some weigh as much as one hundred and sixty pounds, that it takes two of these "pagazis" to carry them to the factories. thence this precious merchandise is exported to the markets of khartoum, of zanzibar and natal. on arriving, these "pagazis" are paid the price agreed upon. it consists in twenty yards of cotton cloth, or of that stuff which bears the name of "merikani," a little powder, a handful of cowry (shells very common in that country, which serve as money), a few pearls, or even those of the slaves who would be difficult to sell. the slaves are paid, when the trader has no other money. among the five hundred slaves that the caravan counted, there were few grown men. that is because, the "razzia" being finished and the village set on fire, every native above forty is unmercifully massacred and hung to a neighboring tree. only the young adults of both sexes and the children are intended to furnish the markets. after these men-hunts, hardly a tenth of the vanquished survive. this explains the frightful depopulation which changes vast territories of equatorial africa into deserts. here, the children and the adults were hardly clothed with a rag of that bark stuff, produced by certain trees, and called "mbouzon" in the country. thus the state of this troop of human beings, women covered with wounds from the "havildars'" whips, children ghastly and meager, with bleeding feet, whom their mothers tried to carry in addition to their burdens, young men closely riveted to the fork, more torturing than the convict's chain, is the most lamentable that can be imagined. yes, the sight of the miserable people, hardly living, whose voices have no sound, ebony skeletons according to livingstone's expression, would touch the hearts of wild beasts. but so much misery did not touch those hardened arabs nor those portuguese, who, according to lieutenant cameron, are still more cruel. this is what cameron says: "to obtain these fifty women, of whom alvez called himself proprietor, ten villages had been destroyed, ten villages having each from one hundred to two hundred souls: a total of fifteen hundred inhabitants. some had been able to escape, but the greater part--almost all--had perished in the flames, had been killed in defending their families, or had died of hunger in the jungle, unless the beasts of prey had terminated their sufferings more promptly. "those crimes, perpetrated in the center of africa by men who boast of the name of christians, and consider themselves portuguese, would seem incredible to the inhabitants of civilized countries. it is impossible that the government of lisbon knows the atrocities committed by people who boast of being her subjects." _--tour of the world_. in portugal there have been very warm protestations against these assertions of cameron's. it need not be said that, during the marches, as during the halts, the prisoners were very carefully guarded. thus, dick sand soon understood that he must not even attempt to get away. but then, how find mrs. weldon again? that she and her child had been carried away by negoro was only too certain. the portuguese had separated her from her companions for reasons unknown as yet to the young novice. but he could not doubt negoro's intervention, and his heart was breaking at the thought of the dangers of all kinds which threatened mrs. weldon. "ah!" he said to himself, "when i think that i have held those two miserable men, both of them, at the end of my gun, and that i have not killed them!" this thought was one of those which returned most persistently to dick sand's mind. what misfortunes the death, the just death of harris and negoro might have prevented! what misery, at least, for those whom these brokers in human flesh were now treating as slaves! all the horror of mrs. weldon's and little jack's situation now represented itself to dick sand. neither the mother nor the child could count on cousin benedict. the poor man could hardly take care of himself. doubtless they were taking all three to some district remote from the province of angola. but who was carrying the still sick child? "his mother; yes, his mother," dick sand repeated to himself. "she will have recovered strength for him; she will have done what these unhappy female slaves do, and she will fall like them. ah! may god put me again in front of her executioners, and i--" but he was a prisoner! he counted one head in this live-stock that the overseers were driving to the interior of africa. he did not even know whether negoro and harris themselves were directing the convoy of which their victims made a part. dingo was no longer there to scent the portuguese, to announce his approach. hercules alone might come to the assistance of the unfortunate mrs. weldon. but was that miracle to be hoped for? however, dick sand fell back again on that idea. he said to himself that the strong black man was free. of his devotion there was no doubt. all that a human being could do, hercules would do in mrs. weldon's interest. yes, either hercules would try to find them and put himself in communication with them; or if that failed him, he would endeavor to concert with him, dick sand, and perhaps carry him off, deliver him by force. during the night halts, mingling with these prisoners, black like them, could he not deceive the soldier's vigilance, reach him, break his bonds, and lead him away into the forest? and both of them, then free, what would they not do for mrs. weldon's safety. a water course would enable them to descend to the coast. dick sand would again take up that plan so unfortunately prevented by the natives' attack, with new chances of success and a greater knowledge of the difficulties. the young novice thus alternated between fear and hope. in fact, he resisted despair, thanks to his energetic nature, and held himself in readiness to profit by the least chance that might offer itself to him. what he most desired to know was to what market the agents were taking the convoy of slaves. was it to one of the factories of angola, and would it be an affair of a few halting-places only, or would this convoy travel for hundreds of miles still, across central africa? the principal market of the contractors is that of n'yangwe, in manyema, on that meridian which divides the african continent into two almost equal parts, there where extends the country of the great lakes, that livingstone was then traversing. but it was far from the camp on the coanza to that village. months of travel would not suffice to reach it. that was one of dick sand's most serious thoughts; for, once at n'yangwe, in case even mrs. weldon, hercules, the other blacks and he should succeed in escaping, how difficult it would be, not to say impossible, to return to the seacoast, in the midst of the dangers of such a long route. but dick sand soon had reason to think that the convoy would soon reach its destination. though he did not understand the language employed by the chiefs of the caravan, sometimes arab, sometimes the african idiom, he remarked that the name of an important market of that region was often pronounced. it was the name kazounde, and he knew that a very great trade in slaves was carried on there. he was then naturally led to believe that there the fate of the prisoners would be decided, whether for the profit of the king of that district or for the benefit of some rich trader of the country. we know that he was not mistaken. now, dick sand, being posted in the facts of modern geography, knew very exactly what is known of kazounde. the distance from saint paul de loanda to this city does not exceed four hundred miles, and consequently two hundred and fifty miles, at the most, separates it from the camp established on the coanza. dick sand made his calculation approximately, taking the distance traveled by the little troop under harris's lead as the base. now, under ordinary circumstances, this journey would only require from ten to twelve days. doubling that time for the needs of a caravan already exhausted by a long route, dick sand might estimate the length of the journey from the coanza to kazounde at three weeks. dick sand wished very much to impart what he believed he knew to tom and his companions. it would be a kind of consolation for them to be assured that they were not being led to the center of africa, into those fatal countries which they could not hope to leave. now, a few words uttered in passing would be sufficient to enlighten them. would he succeed in saying those words? tom and bat--chance had reunited the father and son--acteon and austin, forked two by two, were at the right extremity of the camp. an overseer and a dozen soldiers watched them. dick sand, free in his movements, resolved to gradually diminish the distance that separated him from his companions to fifty steps. he then commenced to maneuver to that end. very likely old tom divined dick sand's thought. a word, pronounced in a low voice, warned his companions to be attentive. they did not stir, but they kept themselves ready to see, as well as to hear. soon, with an indifferent air, dick sand had gained fifty steps more. from the place where he then was, he could have called out, in such a manner as to be heard, that name kazounde, and tell them what the probable length of the journey would be. but to complete his instructions, and confer with them on their conduct during the journey, would be still better. he then continued to draw nearer to them. already his heart was beating with hope; he was only a few steps from the desired end, when the overseer, as if he had suddenly penetrated his intention, rushed on him. at the cries of that enraged person, ten soldiers ran to the spot, and dick sand was brutally led back to the rear, while tom and his companions were taken to the other extremity of the camp. exasperated, dick sand had thrown himself upon the overseer. he had ended by breaking his gun in his hands. he had almost succeeded in snatching it from him. but seven or eight soldiers assailed him at once, and force was used to secure him. furious, they would have massacred him, if one of the chiefs of the caravan, an arab of great height and ferocious physiognomy, had not intervened. this arab was the chief ibn hamis, of whom harris had spoken. he pronounced a few words which dick sand could not understand, and the soldiers, obliged to release their prey, went away. it was, then, very evident, for one thing, that there had been a formal order not to allow the young novice to communicate with his companions; and for another, that his life should not be taken. who could have given such orders, if not harris or negoro? at that moment--it was nine o'clock in the morning, april th--the harsh sounds from a "condou's" horn (a kind of ruminating animal among the african deer) burst forth, and the drum was heard. the halt was going to end. all, chiefs, porters, soldiers, slaves, were immediately on foot. laden with their packs, several groups of captives were formed under the leadership of an overseer, who unfurled a banner of bright colors. the signal for departure was given. songs then rose on the air; but they were the vanquished, not the vanquishers, who sang thus. this is what they said in these songs--a threatening expression of a simple faith from the slaves against their oppressors--against their executioners: "you have sent me to the coast, but i shall be dead; i shall have a yoke no longer, and i shall return to kill you." chapter viii. some of dick sand's notes. though the storm of the day before had ceased, the weather was still very unsettled. it was, besides, the period of the "masika," the second period of the rainy season, under this zone of the african heaven. the nights in particular would be rainy during one, two, or three weeks, which could only increase the misery of the caravan. it set out that day in cloudy weather, and, after quitting the banks of the coanza, made its way almost directly to the east. fifty soldiers marched at the head, a hundred on each of the two sides of the convoy, the rest as a rear-guard. it would be difficult for the prisoners to flee, even if they had not been chained. women, children, and men were going pell-mell, and the overseers urged them on with the whip. there were unfortunate mothers who, nursing one child, held a second by the hand that was free. others dragged these little beings along, without clothing, without shoes, on the sharp grasses of the soil. the chief of the caravan, that ferocious ibn hamis, who had interfered in the struggle between dick sand and his overseer, watched this whole troop, going backwards and forwards from the head to the foot of the long column. if his agents and he troubled themselves but little about the sufferings of their captives, they must reckon more seriously either with the soldiers who claimed some additional rations, or with the "pagazis" who wanted to halt. thence discussions; often even an exchange of brutality. the slaves suffered more from the overseers' constant irritation. nothing was heard but threats from one side, and cries of grief from the other. those who marched in the last ranks treaded a soil that the first had stained with their blood. dick sand's companions, always carefully kept in front of the convoy, could have no communication with him. they advanced in file, the neck held in the heavy fork, which did not permit a single head-movement. the whips did not spare them any more than their sad companions in misfortune. bat, coupled with his father, marched before him, taxing his ingenuity not to shake the fork, choosing the best places to step on, because old tom must pass after him. from time to time, when the overseer was a little behind, he uttered various words of encouragement, some of which reached tom. he even tried to retard his march, if he felt that tom was getting tired. it was suffering, for this good son to be unable to turn his head towards his good father, whom he loved. doubtless, tom had the satisfaction of seeing his son; however, he paid dear for it. how many times great tears flowed from his eyes when the overseer's whip fell upon bat! it was a worse punishment than if it had fallen on his own flesh. austin and acteon marched a few steps behind, tied to each other, and brutally treated every moment. ah, how they envied hercules's fate! whatever were the dangers that threatened the latter in that savage country, he could at least use his strength and defend his life. during the first moments of their captivity, old tom had finally made known the whole truth to his companions. they had learned from him, to their profound astonishment, that they were in africa; that negoro's and harris's double treachery had first thrown them there, and then led them away, and that no pity was to be expected from their masters. nan was not better treated. she made part of a group of women who occupied the middle of the convoy. they had chained her with a young mother of two children, one at the breast, the other aged three years, who walked with difficulty. nan, moved with pity, had burdened herself with the little creature, and the poor slave had thanked her by a tear. nan then carried the infant, at the same time, sparing her the fatigue, to which she would have yielded, and the blows the overseer would have given her. but it was a heavy burden for old nan. she felt that her strength would soon fail her, and then she thought of little jack. she pictured him to herself in his mother's arms. sickness had wasted him very much, but he must be still heavy for mrs. weldon's weakened arms. where was she? what would become of her? would her old servant ever see her again? dick sand had been placed almost in the rear of the convoy. he could neither perceive tom, nor his companions, nor nan. the head of the long caravan was only visible to him when it was crossing some plain. he walked, a prey, to the saddest thoughts, from which the agents' cries hardly drew his attention. he neither thought of himself, nor the fatigues he must still support, nor of the tortures probably reserved for him by negoro. he only thought of mrs. weldon. in rain he sought on the ground, on the brambles by the paths, on the lower branches of the trees, to find some trace of her passage. she could not have taken another road, if, as everything indicated, they were leading her to kazounde. what would he not give to find some indication of her march to the destination where they themselves were being led! such was the situation of the young novice and his companions in body and mind. but whatever they might have to fear for themselves, great as was their own sufferings, pity took possession of them on seeing the frightful misery of that sad troop of captives, and the revolting brutality of their masters. alas! they could do nothing to succor the afflicted, nothing to resist the others. all the country situated east of the coanza was only a forest for over an extent of twenty miles. the trees, however, whether they perish under the biting of the numerous insects of these countries, or whether troops of elephants beat them down while they are still young, are less crowded here than in the country next to the seacoast. the march, then, under the trees, would not present obstacles. the shrubs might be more troublesome than the trees. there was, in fact, an abundance of those cotton-trees, seven to eight feet high, the cotton of which serves to manufacture the black and white striped stuffs used in the interior of the province. in certain places, the soil transformed itself into thick jungles, in which the convoy disappeared. of all the animals of the country, the elephants and giraffes alone were taller than those reeds which resemble bamboos, those herbs, the stalks of which measure an inch in diameter. the agents must know the country marvelously well, not to be lost in these jungles. each day the caravan set out at daybreak, and only halted at midday for an hour. some packs containing tapioca were then opened, and this food was parsimoniously distributed to the slaves. to this potatoes were added, or goat's meat and veal, when the soldiers had pillaged some village in passing. but the fatigue had been such, the repose so insufficient, so impossible even during these rainy nights, that when the hour for the distribution of food arrived the prisoners could hardly eat. so, eight days after the departure from the coanza, twenty had fallen by the way, at the mercy of the beasts that prowled behind the convoy. lions, panthers and leopards waited for the victims which could not fail them, and each evening after sunset their roaring sounded at such a short distance that one might fear a direct attack. on hearing those roars, rendered more formidable by the darkness, dick sand thought with terror of the obstacles such encounters would present against hercules's enterprise, of the perils that menaced each of his steps. and meanwhile if he himself should find an opportunity to flee, he would not hesitate. here are some notes taken by dick sand during this journey from the coanza to kazounde. twenty-five "marches" were employed to make this distance of two hundred and fifty miles, the "march" in the traders' language being ten miles, halting by day and night. _from th to th april._--saw a village surrounded by walls of reeds, eight or nine feet high. fields cultivated with maize, beans, "sorghas" and various arachides. two blacks seized and made prisoners. fifteen killed. population fled. the next day crossed an impetuous river, one hundred and fifty yards wide. floating bridge, formed of trunks of trees, fastened with lianes. piles half broken. two women, tied to the same fork, precipitated into the water. one was carrying her little child. the waters are disturbed and become stained with blood. crocodiles glide between the parts of the bridge. there is danger of stepping into their open mouths. _april th_.--crossed a forest of bauhiniers. trees of straight timber--those which furnish the iron wood for the portuguese. heavy rain. earth wet. march extremely painful. perceived, toward the center of the convoy, poor nan, carrying a little negro child in her arms. she drags herself along with difficulty. the slave chained with her limps, and the blood flows from her shoulder, torn by lashes from the whip. in the evening camped under an enormous baobab with white flowers and a light green foliage. during the night roars of lions and leopards. shots fired by one of the natives at a panther. what has become of hercules? _april th and th_.--first colds of what they call the african winter. dew very abundant. end of the rainy season with the month of april; it commences with the month of november. plains still largely inundated. east winds which check perspiration and renders one more liable to take the marsh fevers. no trace of mrs. weldon, nor of mr. benedict. where would they take them, if not to kazounde? they must have followed the road of the caravan and preceded us. i am eaten up with anxiety. little jack must be seized again with the fever in this unhealthy region. but does he still live? _from may st to may th_.--crossed, with several halting-places, long plains, which evaporation has not been able to dry up. water everywhere up to the waist. myriads of leeches adhering to the skin. we must march for all that. on some elevations that emerge are lotus and papyrus. at the bottom, under the water, other plants, with large cabbage leaves, on which the feet slip, which occasions numerous falls. in these waters, considerable quantities of little fish of the silurus species. the natives catch them by billions in wickers and sell them to the caravans. impossible to find a place to camp for the night. we see no limit to the inundated plain. we must march in the dark. to-morrow many slaves will be missing from the convoy. what misery! when one falls, why get up again? a few moments more under these waters, and all would be finished. the overseer's stick would not reach you in the darkness. yes, but mrs. weldon and her son! i have not the right to abandon them. i shall resist to the end. it is my duty. dreadful cries are heard in the night. twenty soldiers have torn some branches from resinous trees whose branches were above water. livid lights in the darkness. this is the cause of the cries i heard. an attack of crocodiles; twelve or fifteen of those monsters have thrown themselves in the darkness on the flank of the caravan. women and children have been seized and carried away by the crocodiles to their "pasture lands"--so livingstone calls those deep holes where this amphibious animal deposits its prey, after having drowned it, for it only eats it when it has reached a certain degree of decomposition. i have been rudely grazed by the scales of one of these crocodiles. an adult slave has been seized near me and torn from the fork that held him by the neck. the fork was broken. what a cry of despair! what a howl of grief! i hear it still! _may th and th_.--the next day they count the victims. twenty slaves have disappeared. at daybreak i look for tom and his companions. god be praised! they are living. alas! ought i to praise god? is one not happier to be done with all this misery! tom is at the head of the convoy. at a moment when his son bat made a turn, the fork was presented obliquely, and tom was able to see me. i search in vain for old nan. is she in the central group? or has she perished during that frightful night? the next day, passed the limit of the inundated plain, after twenty-four hours in the water. we halt on a hill. the sun dries us a little. we eat, but what miserable food! a little tapioca, a few handfuls of maize. nothing but the troubled water to drink. prisoners extended on the ground--how many will not get up! no! it is not possible that mrs. weldon and her son have passed through so much misery! god would be so gracious to them as to have them led to kazounde by another road. the unhappy mother could not resist. new case of small-pox in the caravan; the "ndoue," as they say. the sick could not be able to go far. will they abandon them? _may th_.--they have begun the march again at sunrise. no laggards. the overseer's whip has quickly raised those overcome by fatigue or sickness. those slaves have a value; they are money. the agents will not leave them behind while they have strength enough to march. i am surrounded by living skeletons. they have no longer voice enough to complain. i have seen old nan at last. she is a sad sight. the child she was carrying is no longer in her arms. she is alone, too. that will be less painful for her; but the chain is still around her waist, and she has been obliged to throw the end over her shoulder. by hastening, i have been able to draw near her. one would say that she did not recognize me. am i, then, changed to that extent? "nan," i said. the old servant looked at me a long time, and then she exclaimed: "you, mr. dick! i--i--before long i shall be dead!" "no, no! courage!" i replied, while my eyes fell so as not to see what was only the unfortunate woman's bloodless specter. "dead!" she continued; "and i shall not see my dear mistress again, nor my little jack. my god! my god! have pity on me!" i wished to support old nan, whose whole body trembled under her torn clothing. it would have been a mercy to see myself tied to her, and to carry my part of that chain, whose whole weight she bore since her companion's death. a strong arm pushes me back, and the unhappy nan is thrown back into the crowd of slaves, lashed by the whips. i wished to throw myself on that brutal----the arab chief appears, seizes my arm, and holds me till i find myself again in the caravan's last rank. then, in his turn, he pronounces the name, "negoro!" negoro! it is then by the portuguese's orders that he acts and treats me differently from my companions in misfortune? for what fate am i reserved? _may th_.--to-day passed near two villages in flames. the stubble burns on all sides. dead bodies are hung from the trees the fire has spared. population fled. fields devastated. the _razzie_ is exercised there. two hundred murders, perhaps, to obtain a dozen slaves. evening has arrived. halt for the night. camp made under great trees. high shrubs forming a thicket on the border of the forest. some prisoners fled the night before, after breaking their forks. they have been retaken, and treated with unprecedented cruelty. the soldiers' and overseers' watchfulness is redoubled. night has come. roaring of lions and hyenas, distant snorting of hippopotami. doubtless some lake or watercourse near. in spite of my fatigue, i cannot sleep. i think of so many things. then, it seems to me that i hear prowling in the high grass. some animal, perhaps. would it dare force an entrance into the camp? i listen. nothing! yes! an animal is passing through the reeds. i am unarmed! i shall defend myself, nevertheless. my life may be useful to mrs. weldon, to my companions. i look through the profound darkness. there is no moon. the night is extremely dark. two eyes shine in the darkness, among the papyrus--two eyes of a hyena or a leopard. they disappear--reappear. at last there is a rustling of the bushes. an animal springs upon me! i am going to cry out, to give the alarm. fortunately, i was able to restrain myself. i cannot believe my eyes! it is dingo! dingo, who is near me! brave dingo! how is it restored to me? how has it been able to find me again? ah! instinct! would instinct be sufficient to explain such miracles of fidelity? it licks my hands. ah! good dog, now my only friend, they have not killed you, then! it understands me. i return its caresses. it wants to bark. i calm it. it must not be heard. let it follow the caravan in this way, without being seen, and perhaps----but what! it rubs its neck obstinately against my hands. it seems to say to me: "look for something." i look, and i feel something there, fastened to its neck. a piece of reed is slipped under the collar, on which are graven those two letters, s.v., the mystery of which is still inexplicable to us. yes. i have unfastened the reed. i have broken it! there is a letter inside. but this letter--i cannot read it. i must wait for daylight!--daylight! i should like to keep dingo; but the good animal, even while licking my hands, seems in a hurry to leave me. it understands that its mission is finished. with one bound aside, it disappears among the bushes without noise. may god spare it from the lions' and hyenas' teeth! dingo has certainly returned to him who sent it to me. this letter, that i cannot yet read, burns my hands! who has written it? would it come from mrs. weldon? does it come from hercules? how has the faithful animal, that we believed dead, met either the one or the other? what is this letter going to tell me? is it a plan of escape that it brings me? or does it only give me news of those dear to me? whatever it may be, this incident has greatly moved me, and has relaxed my misery. ah! the day comes so slowly. i watch for the least light on the horizon. i cannot close my eyes. i still hear the roaring of the animals. my poor dingo, can you escape them? at last day is going to appear, and almost without dawn, under these tropical latitudes. i settle myself so as not to be seen. i try to read--i cannot yet. at last i have read. the letter is from hercules's hand. it is written on a bit of paper, in pencil. here is what it says: "mrs. weldon was taken away with little jack in a _kitanda_. harris and negoro accompany it. they precede the caravan by three or four marches, with cousin benedict. i have not been able to communicate with her. i have found dingo, who must have been wounded by a shot, but cured. good hope, mr. dick. i only think of you all, and i fled to be more useful to you. hercules." ah! mrs. weldon and her son are living. god be praised! they have not to suffer the fatigues of these rude halting-places. a _kitanda_--it is a kind of litter of dry grass, suspended to a long bamboo, that two men carry on the shoulder. a stuff curtain covers it over. mrs. weldon and her little jack are in that _kitanda_. what does harris and negoro want to do with them? those wretches are evidently going to kazounde. yes, yes, i shall find them again. ah! in all this misery it is good news, it is joy that dingo has brought me! _from may th to th_.--the caravan continues its march. the prisoners drag themselves along more and more painfully. the majority have marks of blood under their feet. i calculate that it will take ten days more to reach kazounde. how many will have ceased to suffer before then? but i--i must arrive there, i shall arrive there. it is atrocious! there are, in the convoy, unfortunate ones whose bodies are only wounds. the cords that bind them enter into the flesh. since yesterday a mother carries in her arms her little infant, dead from hunger. she will not separate from it. our route is strewn with dead bodies. the smallpox rages with new violence. we have just passed near a tree. to this tree slaves were attached by the neck. they were left there to die of hunger. _from may th to th_.--i am almost exhausted, but i have no right to give up. the rains have entirely ceased. we have days of "hard marching." that is what the traders call the "tirikesa," or afternoon march. we must go faster, and the ground rises in rather steep ascents. we pass through high shrubs of a very tough kind. they are the "nyassi," the branches of which tear the skin off my face, whose sharp seeds penetrate to my skin, under my dilapidated clothes. my strong boots have fortunately kept good. the agents have commenced to abandon the slaves too sick to keep up. besides, food threatens to fail; soldiers and _pagazis_ would revolt if their rations were diminished. they dare not retrench from them, and then so much worse for the captives. "let them eat one another!" said the chief. then it follows that young slaves, still strong, die without the appearance of sickness. i remember what dr. livingstone has said on that subject: "those unfortunates complain of the heart; they put their hands there, and they fall. it is positively the heart that breaks! that is peculiar to free men, reduced to slavery unexpectedly!" to-day, twenty captives who could no longer drag themselves along, have been massacred with axes, by the _havildars_! the arab chief is not opposed to massacre. the scene has been frightful! poor old nan has fallen under the knife, in this horrible butchery! i strike against her corpse in passing! i cannot even give her a christian burial! she is first of the "pilgrim's" survivors whom god has called back to him. poor good creature! poor nan! i watch for dingo every night. it returns no more! has misfortune overtaken it or hercules? no! no! i do not want to believe it! this silence, which appears so long to me, only proves one thing--it is that hercules has nothing new to tell me yet. besides, he must be prudent, and on his guard. * * * * * chapter ix. kazounde. on may th, the caravan of slaves arrived at kazounde. fifty per cent. of the prisoners taken in the last raid had fallen on the road. meanwhile, the business was still good for the traders; demands were coming in, and the price of slaves was about to rise in the african markets. angola at this period did an immense trade in blacks. the portuguese authorities of st. paul de loanda, or of benguela, could not stop it without difficulty, for the convoys traveled towards the interior of the african continent. the pens near the coast overflowed with prisoners, the few slavers that succeeded in eluding the cruisers along the shore not being sufficient to carry all of them to the spanish colonies of america. kazounde, situated three hundred miles from the mouth of the coanza, is one of the principal "lakonis," one of the most important markets of the province. on its grand square the "tchitoka" business is transacted; there, the slaves are exposed and sold. it is from this point that the caravans radiate toward the region of the great lakes. kazounde, like all the large towns of central africa, is divided into two distinct parts. one is the quarter of the arab, portuguese or native traders, and it contains their pens; the other is the residence of the negro king, some ferocious crowned drunkard, who reigns through terror, and lives from supplies furnished by the contractors. at kazounde, the commercial quarter then belonged to that jose-antonio alvez, of whom harris and negoro had spoken, they being simply agents in his pay. this contractor's principal establishment was there, he had a second at bihe, and a third at cassange, in benguela, which lieutenant cameron visited some years later. imagine a large central street, on each side groups of houses, "tembes," with flat roofs, walls of baked earth, and a square court which served as an enclosure for cattle. at the end of the street was the vast "tchitoka" surrounded by slave-pens. above this collection of buildings rose some enormous banyans, whose branches swayed with graceful movements. here and there great palms, with their heads in the air, drove the dust on the streets like brooms. twenty birds of prey watched over the public health. such is the business quarter of kazounde. near by ran the louhi, a river whose course, still undetermined, is an affluent, or at least a sub-affluent, of the coango, a tributary of the zoire. the residence of the king of kazounde, which borders on the business quarter, is a confused collection of ill-built hovels, which spread over the space of a mile square. of these hovels, some are open, others are inclosed by a palisade of reeds, or bordered with a hedge of fig-trees. in one particular enclosure, surrounded by a fence of papyrus, thirty of these huts served us dwellings for the chief's slaves, in another group lived his wives, and a "tembe," still larger and higher, was half hidden in a plantation of cassada. such was the residence of the king of kazounde, a man of fifty--named moini loungga; and already almost deprived of the power of his predecessors. he had not four thousand of soldiers there, where the principal portuguese traders could count twenty thousand, and he could no longer, as in former times, decree the sacrifice of twenty-five or thirty slaves a day. this king was, besides, a prematurely-aged man, exhausted by debauch, crazed by strong drink, a ferocious maniac, mutilating his subjects, his officers or his ministers, as the whim seized him, cutting the nose and ears off some, and the foot or the hand from others. his own death, not unlooked for, would be received without regret. a single man in all kazounde might, perhaps, lose by the death of moini loungga. this was the contractor, jose-antonio alvez, who agreed very well with the drunkard, whose authority was recognized by the whole province. if the accession of his first wife, queen moini, should be contested, the states of moini loungga might be invaded by a neighboring competitor, one of the kings of oukonson. the latter, being younger and more active, had already seized some villages belonging to the kazounde government. he had in his services another trader, a rival of alvez tipo-tipo, a black arab of a pure race, whom cameron met at n'yangwe. what was this alvez, the real sovereign under the reign of an imbruted negro, whose vices he had developed and served? jose-antonio alvez, already advanced in years, was not, as one might suppose, a "msoungou," that is to say, a man of the white race. there was nothing portuguese about him but his name, borrowed, no doubt, for the needs of commerce. he was a real negro, well known among traders, and called kenndele. he was born, in fact, at donndo, or the borders of the coanza. he had commenced by being simply the agent of the slave-brokers, and would have finished as a famous trader, that is to say, in the skin of an old knave, who called himself the most honest man in the world. cameron met this alvez in the latter part of , at kilemmba, the capital of kassonngo, chief of ouroua. he guided cameron with his caravan to his own establishment at bihe, over a route of seven hundred miles. the convoy of slaves, on arriving at kazounde, had been conducted to the large square. it was the th of may. dick sand's calculations were then verified. the journey had lasted thirty-eight days from the departure of the army encamped on the banks of the coanza. five weeks of the most fearful miseries that human beings could support. it was noon when the train entered kazounde. the drums were beaten, horns were blown in the midst of the detonations of fire-arms. the soldiers guarding the caravan discharged their guns in the air, and the men employed by jose-antonio alvez replied with interest. all these bandits were happy at meeting again, after an absence which had lasted for four months. they were now going to rest and make up for lost time in excesses and idleness. the prisoners then formed a total of two hundred and fifty, the majority being completely exhausted. after having been driven like cattle, they were to be shut up in pens, which american farmers would not have used for pigs. twelve or fifteen hundred other captives awaited them, all of whom would be exposed in the market at kazounde on the next day but one. these pens were filled up with the slaves from the caravan. the heavy forks had been taken off them, but they were still in chains. the "pagazis" had stopped on the square after having disposed of their loads of ivory, which the kazounde dealers would deliver. then, being paid with a few yards of calico or other stuff at the highest price, they would return and join some other caravan. old tom and his companions had been freed from the iron collar which they had carried for five weeks. bat and his father embraced each other, and all shook hands; but no one ventured to speak. what could they say that would not be an expression of despair. bat, acteon and austin, all three vigorous, accustomed to hard work, had been able to resist fatigue; but old tom, weakened by privations, was nearly exhausted. a few more days and his corpse would have been left, like poor nan's, as food for the beasts of the province. as soon as they arrived, the four men had been placed in a narrow pen, and the door had been at once shut upon them. there they had found some food, and they awaited the trader's visit, with whom, although quite in vain, they intended to urge the fact that they were americans. dick sand had remained alone on the square, under the special care of a keeper. at length he was at kazounde, where he did not doubt that mrs. weldon, little jack, and cousin benedict had preceded him. he had looked for them in crossing the various quarters of the town, even in the depths of the "tembes" that lined the streets, on this "tchitoka" now almost deserted. mrs. weldon was not there. "have they not brought her here?" he asked himself. "but where could she be? no; hercules cannot be mistaken. then, again, he must have learned the secret designs of negoro and harris; yet they, too--i do not see them." dick sand felt the most painful anxiety. he could understand that mrs. weldon, retained a prisoner, would be concealed from him. but harris and negoro, particularly the latter, should hasten to see him, now in their power, if only to enjoy their triumph--to insult him, torture him, perhaps avenge themselves. from the fact that they were not there, must he conclude that they had taken another direction, and that mrs. weldon was to be conducted to some other point of central africa? should the presence of the american and the portuguese be the signal for his punishment, dick sand impatiently desired it. harris and negoro at kazounde, was for him the certainty that mrs. weldon and her child were also there. dick sand then told himself that, since the night when dingo had brought him hercules's note, the dog had not been seen. the young man had prepared an answer at great risks. in it he told hercules to think only of mrs. weldon, not to lose sight of her, and to keep her informed as well as possible of what happened; but he had not been able to send it to its destination. if dingo had been able to penetrate the ranks of the caravan once, why did not hercules let him try it a second time? had the faithful animal perished in some fruitless attempt? perhaps hercules was following mrs. weldon, as dick sand would have done in his place. followed by dingo, he might have plunged into the depths of the woody plateau of africa, in the hope of reaching one of the interior establishments. what could dick sand imagine if, in fact, neither mrs. weldon nor her enemies were there? he had been so sure, perhaps foolishly, of finding them at kazounde, that not to see them there at once gave him a terrible shock. he felt a sensation of despair that he could not subdue. his life, if it were no longer useful to those whom he loved, was good for nothing, and he had only to die. but, in thinking in that manner, dick sand mistook his own character. under the pressure of these trials, the child became a man, and with him discouragement could only be an accidental tribute paid to human nature. a loud concert of trumpet-calls and cries suddenly commenced. dick sand, who had just sunk down in the dust of the "tchitoka," stood up. every new incident might put him on the track of those whom he sought. in despair a moment before, he now no longer despaired. "alvez! alvez!" this name was repeated by a crowd of natives and soldiers who now invaded the grand square. the man on whom the fate of so many unfortunate people depended was about to appear. it was possible that his agents, harris and negoro, were with him. dick sand stood upright, his eyes open, his nostrils dilated. the two traitors would find this lad of fifteen years before them, upright, firm, looking them in the face. it would not be the captain of the "pilgrim" who would tremble before the old ship's cook. a hammock, a kind of "kitanda" covered by an old patched curtain, discolored, fringed with rags, appeared at the end of the principal street. an old negro descended. it was the trader, jose-antonio alvez. several attendants accompanied him, making strong demonstrations. along with alvez appeared his friend coimbra, the son of major coimbra of bihe, and, according to lieutenant cameron, the greatest scamp in the province. he was a dirty creature, his breast was uncovered, his eyes were bloodshot, his hair was rough and curly, his face yellow; he was dressed in a ragged shirt and a straw petticoat. he would have been called a horrible old man in his tattered straw hat. this coimbra was the confidant, the tool of alvez, an organizer of raids, worthy of commanding the trader's bandits. as for the trader, he might have looked a little less sordid than his attendant. he wore the dress of an old turk the day after a carnival. he did not furnish a very high specimen of the factory chiefs who carry on the trade on a large scale. to dick sand's great disappointment, neither harris nor negoro appeared in the crowd that followed alvez. must he, then, renounce all hope of finding them at kazounde? meanwhile, the chief of the caravan, the arab, ibn hamis, shook hands with alvez and coimbra. he received numerous congratulations. alvez made a grimace at the fifty per cent. of slaves failing in the general count, but, on the whole, the affair was very satisfactory. with what the trader possessed of human merchandise in his pens, he could satisfy the demands from the interior, and barter slaves for ivory teeth and those "hannas" of copper, a kind of st. andrew's cross, in which form this metal is carried into the center of africa. the overseers were also complimented. as for the porters, the trader gave orders that their salary should be immediately paid them. jose-antonio alvez and coimbra spoke a kind of portuguese mingled with a native idiom, which a native of lisbon would scarcely have understood. dick sand could not hear what these merchants were saying. were they talking of him and his companions, so treacherously joined to the persons in the convoy? the young man could not doubt it, when, at a gesture from the arab, ibn hamis, an overseer, went toward the pen where tom, austin, bat and acteon had been shut up. almost immediately the four americans were led before alvez. dick sand slowly approached. he wished to lose nothing of this scene. alvez's face lit up at the sight of these few well-made blacks, to whom rest and more abundant food had promptly restored their natural vigor. he looked with contempt at old tom, whose age would affect his value, but the other three would sell high at the next kazounde sale. alvez remembered a few english words which some agents, like the american, harris, had taught him, and the old monkey thought he would ironically welcome his new slaves. tom understood the trader's words; he at once advanced, and, showing his companions, said: "we are free men--citizens of the united states." alvez certainly understood him; he replied with a good-humored grimace, wagging his head: "yes, yes, americans! welcome, welcome!" "welcome," added coimbra. he advanced toward austin, and like a merchant who examines a sample, after having felt his chest and his shoulders, he wanted to make him open his mouth, so as to see his teeth. but at this moment signor coimbra received in his face the worst blow that a major's son had ever caught. alvez's confidant staggered under it. several soldiers threw themselves on austin, who would perhaps pay dearly for this angry action. alvez stopped them by a look. he laughed, indeed, at the misfortune of his friend, coimbra, who had lost two of the five or six teeth remaining to him. alvez did not intend to have his merchandise injured. then, he was of a gay disposition, and it was a long time since he had laughed so much. meanwhile, he consoled the much discomfited coimbra, and the latter, helped to his feet, again took his place near the trader, while throwing a menacing look at the audacious austin. at this moment dick sand, driven forward by an overseer, was led before alvez. the latter evidently knew all about the young man, whence he came, and how he had been taken to the camp on the coanza. so he said, after having given him an evil glance: "the little yankee!" "yes, yankee!" replied dick sand. "what do they wish to do with my companions and me?" "yankee! yankee! yankee!" repeated alvez. did he not or would he not understand the question put to him? a second time dick sand asked the question regarding his companions and himself. he then turned to coimbra, whose features, degraded as they were by the abuse of alcoholic liquors, he saw were not of native origin. coimbra repeated the menacing gesture already made at austin, and did not answer. during this time alvez talked rapidly with the arab, ibn hamis, and evidently of things that concerned dick sand and his friends. no doubt they were to be again separated, and who could tell if another chance to exchange a few words would ever again be offered them. "my friends," said dick, in a low voice, and as if he were only speaking to himself, "just a few words! i have received, by dingo, a letter from hercules. he has followed the caravan. harris and negoro took away mrs. weldon, jack, and mr. benedict. where? i know not, if they are not here at kazounde. patience! courage! be ready at any moment. god may yet have pity on us!" "and nan?" quickly asked old tom. "nan is dead!" "the first!" "and the last!" replied dick sand, "for we know well----" at this moment a hand was laid on his shoulder, and he heard these words, spoken in the amiable voice which he knew only too well: "ah, my young friend, if i am not mistaken! enchanted to see you again!" dick sand turned. harris was before him. "where is mrs. weldon?" cried dick sand, walking toward the american. "alas!" replied harris, pretending a pity that he did not feel, "the poor mother! how could she survive!" "dead!" cried dick sand. "and her child?" "the poor baby!" replied harris, in the same tone, "how could he outlive such fatigue!" so, all whom dick sand loved were dead! what passed within him? an irresistible movement of anger, a desire for vengeance, which he must satisfy at any price! dick sand jumped upon harris, seized a dagger from the american's belt, and plunged it into his heart. "curse you!" cried harris, falling. harris was dead. chapter x. the great market day. dick sand's action had been so rapid that no one could stop him. a few natives threw themselves upon him, and he would have been murdered had not negoro appeared. at a sign from the portuguese, the natives drew back, raised harris's corpse and carried it away. alvez and coimbra demanded dick sand's immediate death, but negoro said to them in a low voice that they would lose nothing by waiting. the order was given to take away the young novice, with a caution not to lose sight of him for a moment. dick sand had seen negoro for the first time since their departure from the coast. he knew that this wretch was alone responsible for the loss of the "pilgrim." he ought to hate him still more than his accomplices. and yet, after having struck the american, he scorned to address a word to negoro. harris had said that mrs. weldon and her child had succumbed. nothing interested him now, not even what they would do with him. they would send him away. where? it did not matter. dick sand, heavily chained, was left on the floor of a pen without a window, a kind of dungeon where the trader, alvez, shut up the slaves condemned to death for rebellion or unlawful acts. there he could no longer have any communication with the exterior; he no longer dreamed of regretting it. he had avenged those whom he loved, who no longer lived. whatever fate awaited him, he was ready for it. it will be understood that if negoro had stopped the natives who were about to punish harris's murderer, it was only because he wished to reserve dick sand for one of those terrible torments of which the natives hold the secret. the ship's cook held in his power the captain of fifteen years. he only wanted hercules to make his vengeance complete. two days afterward, may th, the sale began, the great "lakoni," during which the traders of the principal factories of the interior would meet the natives of the neighboring provinces. this market was not specially for the sale of slaves, but all the products of this fertile africa would be gathered there with the producers. from early morning all was intense animation on the vast "tchitoka" of kazounde, and it is difficult to give a proper idea of the scene. it was a concourse of four or five thousand persons, including alvez's slaves, among whom were tom and his companions. these four men, for the reason that they belonged to a different race, are all the more valuable to the brokers in human flesh. alvez was there, the first among all. attended by coimbra, he offered the slaves in lots. these the traders from the interior would form into caravans. among these traders were certain half-breeds from oujiji, the principal market of lake tanganyika, and some arabs, who are far superior to the half-breeds in this kind of trade. the natives flocked there in great numbers. there were children, men, and women, the latter being animated traders, who, as regards a genius for bargaining, could only be compared to their white sisters. in the markets of large cities, even on a great day of sale, there is never much noise or confusion. among the civilized the need of selling exceeds the desire to buy. among these african savages offers are made with as much eagerness as demands. the "lakoni" is a festival day for the natives of both sexes, and if for good reasons they do not put on their best clothes, they at least wear their handsomest ornaments. some wear the hair divided in four parts, covered with cushions, and in plaits tied like a chignon or arranged in pan-handles on the front of the head with bunches of red feathers. others have the hair in bent horns sticky with red earth and oil, like the red lead used to close the joints of machines. in these masses of real or false hair is worn a bristling assemblage of skewers, iron and ivory pins, often even, among elegant people, a tattooing-knife is stuck in the crisp mass, each hair of which is put through a "sofi" or glass bead, thus forming a tapestry of different-colored grains. such are the edifices most generally seen on the heads of the men. the women prefer to divide their hair in little tufts of the size of a cherry, in wreaths, in twists the ends of which form designs in relief, and in corkscrews, worn the length of the face. a few, more simple and perhaps prettier, let their long hair hang down the back, in the english style, and others wear it cut over the forehead in a fringe, like the french. generally they wear on these wigs a greasy putty, made of red clay or of glossy "ukola," a red substance extracted from sandal-wood, so that these elegant persons look as if their heads were dressed with tiles. it must not be supposed that this luxury of ornamentation is confined to the hair of the natives. what are ears for if not to pass pins of precious wood through, also copper rings, charms of plaited maize, which draw them forward, or little gourds which do for snuff-boxes, and to such an extent that the distended lobes of these appendages fall sometimes to the shoulders of their owners? after all, the african savages have no pockets, and how could they have any? this gives rise to the necessity of placing where they can their knives, pipes, and other customary objects. as for the neck, arms, wrists, legs, and ankles, these various parts of the body are undoubtedly destined to carry the copper and brass bracelets, the horns cut off and decorated with bright buttons, the rows of red pearls, called _same-sames_ or "talakas," and which were very fashionable. besides, with these jewels, worn in profusion, the wealthy people of the place looked like traveling shrines. again, if nature gave the natives teeth, was it not that they could pull out the upper and lower incisors, file them in points, and curve them in sharp fangs like the fangs of a rattlesnake? if she has placed nails at the end of the fingers, is it not that they may grow so immoderately that the use of the hand is rendered almost impossible? if the skin, black or brown, covers the human frame, is it not so as to zebra it by "temmbos" or tattooings representing trees, birds, crescents, full moons, or waving lines, in which livingstone thought he could trace the designs of ancient egypt? this tattooing, done by fathers, is practised by means of a blue matter introduced into the incisions, and is "stereotyped" point by point on the bodies of the children, thus establishing to what tribe or to what family they belong. the coat-of-arms must be engraved on the breast, when it cannot be painted on the panel of a carriage. such are the native fashions in ornament. in regard to garments properly so called, they are summed up very easily; for the men, an apron of antelope leather, reaching to the knees, or perhaps a petticoat of a straw material of brilliant colors; for the women, a belt of pearls, supporting at the hips a green petticoat, embroidered in silk, ornamented with glass beads or coury; sometimes they wear garments made of "lambba," a straw material, blue, black, and yellow, which is much prized by the natives of zanzibar. these, of course, are the negroes of the best families. the others, merchants, and slaves, are seldom clothed. the women generally act as porters, and reach the market with enormous baskets on their back, which they hold by means of a leathern strap passed over the forehead. then, their places being taken, and the merchandise unpacked, they squat in their empty baskets. the astonishing fertility of the country causes the choice alimentary produces to be brought to this "lakoni." there were quantities of the rice which returns a hundred per cent., of the maize, which, in three crops in eight months, produces two hundred per cent., the sesamum, the pepper of ouroua, stronger than the cayenne, allspice, tapioca, sorghum, nutmegs, salt, and palm-oil. hundreds of goats were gathered there, hogs, sheep without wool, evidently of tartar origin, quantities of poultry and fish. specimens of pottery, very gracefully turned, attracted the eyes by their violent colors. various drinks, which the little natives cried about in a squeaking voice, enticed the unwary, in the form of plantain wine, "pombe," a liquor in great demand, "malofou," sweet beer, made from the fruit of the banana-tree and mead, a limpid mixture of honey and water fermented with malt. but what made the kazounde market still more curious was the commerce in stuffs and ivory. in the line of stuffs, one might count by thousands of "choukkas" or armfuls, the "mericani" unbleached calico, come from salem, in massachusetts, the "kanaki," a blue gingham, thirty-four inches wide, the "sohari," a stuff in blue and white squares, with a red border, mixed with small blue stripes. it is cheaper than the "dioulis," a silk from surat, with a green, red or yellow ground, which is worth from seventy to eighty dollars for a remnant of three yards when woven with gold. as for ivory, it was brought from all parts of central africa, being destined for khartoum, zanzibar, or natal. a large number of merchants are employed solely in this branch of african commerce. imagine how many elephants are killed to furnish the five hundred thousand kilograms of ivory, which are annually exported to european markets, and principally to the english! the western coast of africa alone produces one hundred and forty tons of this precious substance. the average weight is twenty-eight pounds for a pair of elephant's tusks, which, in , were valued as high as fifteen hundred francs; but there are some that weigh one hundred and seventy-five pounds, and at the kazounde market, admirers would have found some admirable ones. they were of an opaque ivory, translucid, soft under the tool, and with a brown rind, preserving its whiteness and not growing yellow with time like the ivories of other provinces. and, now, how are these various business affairs regulated between buyers and sellers? what is the current coin? as we have said, for the african traders this money is the slave. the native pays in glass beads of venetian manufacture, called "catchocolos," when they are of a lime white; "bouboulous," when they are black; "sikounderetches," when they are red. these beads or pearls, strung in ten rows or "khetes," going twice around the neck, make the "foundo," which is of great value. the usual measure of the beads is the "frasilah," which weighs seventy pounds. livingstone, cameron, and stanley were always careful to be abundantly provided with this money. in default of glass beads, the "pice," a zanzibar piece, worth four centimes, and the "vroungouas," shells peculiar to the eastern coasts, are current in the markets of the african continent. as for the cannibal tribes, they attach a certain value to the teeth of the human jaw, and at the "lakoni," these chaplets were to be seen on the necks of natives, who had no doubt eaten their producers; but these teeth were ceasing to be used as money. such, then, was the appearance of the great market. toward the middle of the day the gaiety reached a climax; the noise became deafening. the fury of the neglected venders, and the anger of the overcharged customers, were beyond description. thence frequent quarrels, and, as we know, few guardians of the peace to quell the fray in this howling crowd. toward the middle of the day, alvez gave orders to bring the slaves, whom he wished to sell, to the square. the crowd was thus increased by two thousand unfortunate beings of all ages, whom the trader had kept in pens for several months. this "stock" was not in a bad condition. long rest and sufficient food had improved these slaves so as to look to advantage at the "lakoni." as for the last arrivals, they could not stand any comparison with them, and, after a month in the pens, alvez could certainly have sold them with more profit. the demands, however, from the eastern coast, were so great that he decided to expose and sell them as they were. this was a misfortune for tom and his three companions. the drivers pushed them into the crowd that invaded the "tchitoka." they were strongly chained, and their glances told what horror, what fury and shame overwhelmed them. "mr. dick is not there," bat said, after some time, during which he had searched the vast plain with his eyes. "no," replied acteon, "they will not put him up for sale." "he will be killed, if he is not already," added the old black. "as for us, we have but one hope left, which is, that the same trader will buy us all. it would be a great consolation not to be separated." "ah! to know that you are far away from me, working like a slave, my poor, old father!" cried bat, sobbing aloud. "no," said tom. "no; they will not separate us, and perhaps we might----" "if hercules were here!" cried austin. but the giant had not reappeared. since the news sent to dick sand, they had heard no one mention either hercules or dingo. should they envy him his fate? why, yes; for if hercules were dead, he was saved from the chains of slavery! meanwhile, the sale had commenced. alvez's agents marched the various lots of men, women and children through the crowd, without caring if they separated mothers from their infants. may we not call these beings "unfortunates," who were treated only as domestic animals? tom and his companions were thus led from buyers to buyers. an agent walked before them naming the price adjudged to their lot. arab or mongrel brokers, from the central provinces, came to examine them. they did not discover in them the traits peculiar to the african race, these traits being modified in america after the second generation. but these vigorous and intelligent negroes, so very different from the blacks brought from the banks of the zambeze or the loualaba, were all the more valuable. they felt them, turned them, and looked at their teeth. horse-dealers thus examine the animals they wish to buy. then they threw a stick to a distance, made them run and pick it up, and thus observed their gait. this was the method employed for all, and all were submitted to these humiliating trials. do not believe that these people are completely indifferent to this treatment! no, excepting the children, who cannot comprehend the state of degradation to which they are reduced, all, men or women, were ashamed. besides, they were not spared injuries and blows. coimbra, half drunk, and alvez's agents, treated them with extreme brutality, and from their new masters, who had just paid for them in ivory stuffs and beads, they would receive no better treatment. violently separated, a mother from her child, a husband from his wife, a brother from a sister, they were not allowed a last caress nor a last kiss, and on the "lakoni" they saw each other for the last time. in fact, the demands of the trade exacted that the slaves should be sent in different directions, according to their sex. the traders who buy the men do not buy women. the latter, in virtue of polygamy, which is legal among the mussulmans, are sent to the arabic countries, where they are exchanged for ivory. the men, being destined to the hardest labor, go to the factories of the two coasts, and are exported either to the spanish colonies or to the markets of muscat and madagascar. this sorting leads to heart-breaking scenes between those whom the agents separate, and who will die without ever seeing each other again. the four companions in turn submitted to the common fate. but, to tell the truth, they did not fear this event. it was better for them to be exported into a slave colony. there, at least, they might have a chance to protest. on the contrary, if sent to the interior, they might renounce all hope of ever regaining their liberty. it happened as they wished. they even had the almost unhoped for consolation of not being separated. they were in brisk demand, being wanted by several traders. alvez clapped his hands. the prices rose. it was strange to see these slaves of unknown value in the kazounde market, and alvez had taken good care to conceal where they came from. tom and his friends, not speaking the language of the country, could not protest. their master was a rich arab trader, who in a few days would send them to lake tanganyika, the great thoroughfare for slaves; then, from that point, toward the factories of zanzibar. would they ever reach there, through the most unhealthy and the most dangerous countries of central africa? fifteen hundred miles to march under these conditions, in the midst of frequent wars, raised and carried on between chiefs, in a murderous climate. was old tom strong enough to support such misery? would he not fall on the road like old nan? but the poor men were not separated. the chain that held them all was lighter to carry. the arab trader would evidently take care of merchandise which promised him a large profit in the zanzibar market. tom, bat, acteon, and austin then left the place. they saw and heard nothing of the scene which was to end the great "lakoni" of kazounde. chapter xi the king of kazounde is offered a punch. it was four o'clock in the afternoon when a loud noise of drums, cymbals, and other instruments of african origin resounded at the end of the principal street. in all corners of the market-place the animation was redoubled. half a day of cries and wrestling had neither weakened the voices nor broken the limbs of these abominable traders. a large number of slaves still remained to be sold. the traders disputed over the lots with an ardor of which the london exchange would give but an imperfect idea, even on a day when stocks were rising. all business was stopped, and the criers took their breath as soon as the discordant concert commenced. the king of kazounde, moini loungga, had come to honor the great "lakoni" with a visit. a numerous train of women, officers, soldiers and slaves followed him. alvez and some other traders went to meet him, and naturally exaggerated the attention which this crowned brute particularly enjoyed. moini loungga was carried in an old palanquin, and descended, not without the aid of a dozen arms, in the center of the large square. this king was fifty years old, but he looked eighty. imagine a frightful monkey who had reached extreme old age; on his head a sort of crown, ornamented with leopard's claws, dyed red, and enlarged by tufts of whitish hair; this was the crown of the sovereigns of kazounde. from his waist hung two petticoats made of leather, embroidered with pearls, and harder than a blacksmith's apron. he had on his breast a quantity of tattooing which bore witness to the ancient nobility of the king; and, to believe him, the genealogy of moini loungga was lost in the night of time. on the ankles, wrists and arms of his majesty, bracelets of leather were rolled, and he wore a pair of domestic shoes with yellow tops, which alvez had presented him with about twenty years before. his majesty carried in his left hand a large stick with a plated knob, and in his right a small broom to drive away flies, the handle of which was enriched with pearls. over his head was carried one of those old patched umbrellas, which seemed to have been cut out of a harlequin's dress. on the monarch's neck and on his nose were the magnifying glass and the spectacles which had caused cousin benedict so much trouble. they had been hidden in bat's pocket. such is the portrait of his negro majesty, who made the country tremble in a circumference of a hundred miles. moini loungga, from the fact of occupying a throne, pretended to be of celestial origin, and had any of his subjects doubted the fact, he would have sent them into another world to discover it. he said that, being of a divine essence, he was not subject to terrestrial laws. if he ate, it was because he wished to do so; if he drank, it was because it gave him pleasure. it was impossible for him to drink any more. his ministers and his officers, all incurable drunkards, would have passed before him for sober men. the court was alcoholized to the last chief, and incessantly imbibed strong beer, cider, and, above all, a certain drink which alvez furnished in profusion. moini loungga counted in his harem wives of all ages and of all kinds. the larger part of them accompanied him in this visit to the "lakoni." moini, the first, according to date, was a vixen of forty years, of royal blood, like her colleagues. she wore a bright tartan, a straw petticoat embroidered with pearls, and necklaces wherever she could put them. her hair was dressed so as to make an enormous framework on her little head. she was, in fact, a monster. the other wives, who were either the cousins or the sisters of the king, were less richly dressed, but much younger. they walked behind her, ready to fulfil, at a sign from their master, their duties as human furniture. these unfortunate beings were really nothing else. if the king wished to sit down, two of these women bent toward the earth and served him for a chair, while his feet rested on the bodies of some others, as if on an ebony carpet. in moini loungga's suite came his officers, his captains, and his magicians. a remarkable thing about these savages, who staggered like their master, was that each lacked a part of his body--one an ear, another an eye, this one the nose, that one the hand. not one was whole. that is because they apply only two kinds of punishment in kazounde--mutilation or death--all at the caprice of the king. for the least fault, some amputation, and the most cruelly punished are those whose ears are cut off, because they can no longer wear rings in their ears. the captains of the _kilolos_, governors of districts, hereditary or named for four years, wore hats of zebra skin and red vests for their whole uniform. their hands brandished long palm canes, steeped at one end with charmed drugs. as to the soldiers, they had for offensive and defensive weapons, bows, of which the wood, twined with the cord, was ornamented with fringes; knives, whetted with a serpent's tongue; broad and long lances; shields of palm wood, decorated in arabesque style. for what there was of uniform, properly so called, it cost his majesty's treasury absolutely nothing. finally, the kind's cortege comprised, in the last place, the court magicians and the instrumentalists. the sorcerers, the "mganngas," are the doctors of the country. these savages attach an absolute faith to divinatory services, to incantations, to the fetiches, clay figures stained with white and red, representing fantastic animals or figures of men and women cut out of whole wood. for the rest, those magicians were not less mutilated than the other courtiers, and doubtless the monarch paid them in this way for the cures that did not succeed. the instrumentalists, men or women, made sharp rattles whizz, noisy drums sound or shudder under small sticks terminated by a caoutchouc ball, "marimehas," kinds of dulcimers formed of two rows of gourds of various dimensions--the whole very deafening for any one who does not possess a pair of african ears. above this crowd, which composed the royal cortege, waved some flags and standards, then at the ends of spears the bleached skulls of the rival chiefs whom moini loungga had vanquished. when the king had quitted his palanquin, acclamations burst forth from all sides. the soldiers of the caravan discharged their old guns, the low detonations of which were but little louder than the vociferations of the crowd. the overseers, after rubbing their black noses with cinnabar powder, which they carried in a sack, bowed to the ground. then alvez, advancing in his turn, handed the king a supply of fresh tobacco--"soothing herb," as they call it in the country. moini loungga had great need of being soothed, for he was, they did not know why, in a very bad humor. at the same time alvez, coimbra, ibn hamis, and the arab traders, or mongrels, came to pay their court to the powerful sovereign of kazounde. "marhaba," said the arabs, which is their word of welcome in the language of central africa. others clapped their hands and bowed to the ground. some daubed themselves with mud, and gave signs of the greatest servility to this hideous majesty. moini loungga hardly looked at all these people, and walked, keeping his limbs apart, as if the ground were rolling and pitching. he walked in this manner, or rather he rolled in the midst of waves of slaves, and if the traders feared that he might take a notion to apportion some of the prisoners to himself, the latter would no less dread falling into the power of such a brute. negoro had not left alvez for a moment, and in his company presented his homage to the king. both conversed in the native language, if, however, that word "converse" can be used of a conversation in which moini loungga only took part by monosyllables that hardly found a passage through his drunken lips. and still, did he not ask his friend, alvez, to renew his supply of brandy just exhausted by large libations? "king loungga is welcome to the market of kazounde," said the trader. "i am thirsty," replied the monarch. "he will take his part in the business of the great 'lakoni,'" added alvez. "drink!" replied moini loungga. "my friend negoro is happy to see the king of kazounde again, after such a long absence." "drink!" repeated the drunkard, whose whole person gave forth a disgusting odor of alcohol. "well, some 'pombe'! some mead!" exclaimed jose-antonio alvez, like a man who well knew what moini loungga wanted. "no, no!" replied the king; "my friend alvez's brandy, and for each drop of his fire-water i shall give him----" "a drop of blood from a white man!" exclaimed negoro, after making a sign to alvez, which the latter understood and approved. "a white man! put a white man to death!" repeated moini loungga, whose ferocious instincts were aroused by the portuguese's proposition. "one of alvez's agents has been killed by this white man," returned negoro. "yes, my agent, harris," replied the trader, "and his death must be avenged!" "send that white man to king massongo, on the upper zaire, among the assonas. they will cut him in pieces. they will eat him alive. they have not forgotten the taste of human flesh!" exclaimed moini loungga. he was, in fact, the king of a tribe of man-eaters, that massongo. it is only too true that in certain provinces of central africa cannibalism is still openly practised. livingstone states it in his "notes of travel." on the borders of the loualaba the manyemas not only eat the men killed in the wars, but they buy slaves to devour them, saying that "human flesh is easily salted, and needs little seasoning." those cannibals cameron has found again among the moene-bongga, where they only feast on dead bodies after steeping them for several days in a running stream. stanley has also encountered those customs of cannibalism among the inhabitants of the oukonson. cannibalism is evidently well spread among the tribes of the center. but, cruel as was the kind of death proposed by the king for dick sand, it did not suit negoro, who did not care to give up his victim. "it was here," said he, "that the white man killed our comrade harris." "it is here that he ought to die!" added alvez. "where you please, alvez," replied moini loungga; "but a drop of fire-water for a drop of blood!" "yes," replied the trader, "fire-water, and you will see that it well merits that name! we shall make it blaze, this water! jose-antonio alvez will offer a punch to the king moini loungga." the drunkard shook his friend alvez's hands. he could not contain his joy. his wives, his courtiers shared his ecstasy. they had never seen brandy blaze, and doubtless they counted on drinking it all blazing. then, after the thirst for alcohol, the thirst for blood, so imperious among these savages, would be satisfied also. poor dick sand! what a horrible punishment awaited him. when we think of the terrible or grotesque effects of intoxication in civilized countries, we understand how far it can urge barbarous beings. we will readily believe that the thought of torturing a white could displease none of the natives, neither jose-antonio alvez, a negro like themselves, nor coimbra, a mongrel of black blood, nor negoro either, animated with a ferocious hatred against the whites. the evening had come, an evening without twilight, that was going to make day change tonight almost at once, a propitious hour for the blazing of the brandy. it was truly a triumphant idea of alvez's, to offer a punch to this negro majesty, and to make him love brandy under a new form. moini loungga began to find that fire-water did not sufficiently justify its name. perhaps, blazing and burning, it would tickle more agreeably the blunted papillas of his tongue. the evening's program then comprised a punch first, a punishment afterwards. dick sand, closely shut up in his dark prison, would only come out to go to his death. the other slaves, sold or not, had been put back in the barracks. there only remained at the "tchitoka," the traders, the overseers and the soldiers ready to take their part of the punch, if the king and his court allowed them. jose-antonio alvez, advised by negoro, did the thing well. they brought a vast copper basin, capable of containing at least two hundred pints, which was placed in the middle of the great place. barrels holding alcohol of inferior quality, but well refined, were emptied into the basin. they spared neither the cinnamon, nor the allspice, nor any of the ingredients that might improve this punch for savages. all had made a circle around the king. moini loungga advanced staggering to the basin. one would say that this vat of brandy fascinated him, and that he was going to throw himself into it. alvez generously held him back and put a lighted match into his hand. "fire!" cried he with a cunning grimace of satisfaction. "fire!" replied moini loungga lashing the liquid with the end of the match. what a flare and what an effect, when the bluish flames played on the surface of the basin. alvez, doubtless to render that alcohol still sharper, had mingled with it a few handfuls of sea salt. the assistants' faces were then given that spectral lividness that the imagination ascribes to phantoms. those negroes, drunk in advance, began to cry out, to gesticulate, and, taking each other by the hand, formed an immense circle around the king of kazounde. alvez, furnished with an enormous metal spoon, stirred the liquid, which threw a great white glare over those delirious monkeys. moini loungga advanced. he seized the spoon from the trader's hands, plunged it into the basin, then, drawing it out full of punch in flames, he brought it to his lips. what a cry the king of kazounde then gave! an act of spontaneous combustion had just taken place. the king had taken fire like a petroleum bonbon. this fire developed little heat, but it devoured none the less. at this spectacle the natives' dance was suddenly stopped. one of moini loungga's ministers threw himself on his sovereign to extinguish him; but, not less alcoholized than his master, he took fire in his turn. in this way, moini loungga's whole court was in peril of burning up. alvez and negoro did not know how to help his majesty. the women, frightened, had taken flight. as to coimbra, he took his departure rapidly, well knowing his inflammable nature. the king and the minister, who had fallen on the ground, were burning up, a prey to frightful sufferings. in bodies so thoroughly alcoholized, combustion only produces a light and bluish flame, that water cannot extinguish. even stifled outside, it would still continue to burn inwardly. when liquor has penetrated all the tissues, there exists no means of arresting the combustion. a few minutes after, moini loungga and his minister had succumbed, but they still burned. soon, in the place where they had fallen, there was nothing left but a few light coals, one or two pieces of the vertebral column, fingers, toes, that the fire does not consume, in cases of spontaneous combustion, but which it covers with an infectious and penetrating soot. it was all that was left of the king of kazounde and of his minister. chapter xii. a royal burial. the next day, may th, the city of kazounde presented a strange aspect. the natives, terrified, kept themselves shut up in their huts. they had never seen a king, who said he was of divine essence, nor a simple minister, die of this horrible death. they had already burned some of their fellow-beings, and the oldest could not forget certain culinary preparations relating to cannibalism. they knew then how the incineration of a human body takes place with difficulty, and behold their king and his minister had burnt all alone! that seemed to them, and indeed ought to seem to them, inexplicable. jose-antonio alvez kept still in his house. he might fear that he would be held responsible for the accident. negoro had informed him of what had passed, warning him to take care of himself. to charge him with moini loungga's death might be a bad affair, from which he might not be able to extricate himself without damage. but negoro had a good idea. by his means alvez spread the report that the death of kazounde's sovereign was supernatural; that the great manitou only reserved it for his elect. the natives, so inclined to superstition, accepted this lie. the fire that came out of the bodies of the king and his minister became a sacred fire. they had nothing to do but honor moini loungga by obsequies worthy of a man elevated to the rank of the gods. these obsequies, with all the ceremonial connected with them among the african tribes, was an occasion offered to negoro to make dick sand play a part. what this death of moini loungga was going to cost in blood, would be believed with difficulty, if the central africa travelers, lieutenant cameron among others, had not related facts that cannot be doubted. the king of kazounde's natural heir was the queen moini. in proceeding without delay with the funeral ceremonies she acted with sovereign authority, and could thus distance the competitors, among others that king of the oukonson, who tended to encroach upon the rights of kazounde's sovereigns. besides, moini, even by becoming queen, avoided the cruel fate reserved for the other wives of the deceased; at the same time she would get rid of the youngest ones, of whom she, first in date, had necessarily to complain. this result would particularly suit the ferocious temperament of that vixen. so she had it announced, with deer's horns and other instruments, that the obsequies of the defunct king would take place the next evening with all the usual ceremony. no protestation was made, neither at court nor from the natives. alvez and the other traders had nothing to fear from the accession of this queen moini. with a few presents, a few flattering remarks, they would easily subject her to their influence. thus the royal heritage was transmitted without difficulty. there was terror only in the harem, and not without reason. the preparatory labors for the funeral were commenced the same day. at the end of the principal street of kazounde flowed a deep and rapid stream, an affluent of the coango. the question was to turn this stream aside, so as to leave its bed dry. it was in that bed that the royal grave must be dug. after the burial the stream would be restored to its natural channel. the natives were busily employed in constructing a dam, that forced the stream to make a provisional bed across the plain of kazounde. at the last tableau of this funeral ceremony the barricade would be broken, and the torrent would take its old bed again. negoro intended dick sand to complete the number of victims sacrificed on the king's tomb. he had been a witness of the young novice's irresistible movement of anger, when harris had acquainted him with the death of mrs. weldon and little jack. negoro, cowardly rascal, had not exposed himself to the same fate as his accomplice. but now, before a prisoner firmly fastened by the feet and hands, he supposed he had nothing to fear, and resolved to pay him a visit. negoro was one of those miserable wretches who are not satisfied with torturing their victims; they must also enjoy their sufferings. toward the middle of the day, then, he repaired to the barrack where dick sand was guarded, in sight of an overseer. there, closely bound, was lying the young novice, almost entirely deprived of food for twenty-four hours, weakened by past misery, tortured by those bands that entered into his flesh; hardly able to turn himself, he was waiting for death, no matter how cruel it might be, as a limit to so many evils. however, at the sight of negoro he shuddered from head to foot. he made an instinctive effort to break the bands that prevented him from throwing himself on that miserable man and having revenge. but hercules himself would not succeed in breaking them. he understood that it was another kind of contest that was going to take place between the two, and arming himself with calmness, dick sand compelled himself to look negoro right in the face, and decided not to honor him with a reply, no matter what he might say. "i believed it to be my duty," negoro said to him it first, "to come to salute my young captain for the last time, and to let him know how i regret, for his sake, that he does not command here any longer, as he commanded on board the 'pilgrim.'" and, seeing that dick sand did not reply: "what, captain, do you no longer recognize your old cook? he comes, however, to take your orders, and to ask you what he ought to serve for your breakfast." at the same time negoro brutally kicked the young novice, who was lying on the ground. "besides," added he, "i should have another question to address to you, my young captain. could you yet explain to me, how, wishing to land on the american coast, you have ended by arriving in angola, where you are?" certainly, dick sand had no more need of the portuguese's words to understand what he had truly divined, when he knew at last that the "pilgrim's" compass must have been made false by this traitor. but negoro's question was an avowal. still he only replied by a contemptuous silence. "you will acknowledge, captain," continued kegoro, "that it was fortunate for you that there was a seaman on board--a real one, at that. great god, where would we be without him? instead of perishing on some breaker, where the tempest would have thrown you, you have arrived, thanks to him, in a friendly port, and if it is to any one that you owe being at last in a safe place, it is to that seaman whom you have wronged in despising, my young master!" speaking thus, negoro, whose apparent calmness was only the result of an immense effort, had brought his form near dick sand. his face, suddenly become ferocious, touched him so closely that one would believe that he was going to devour him. this rascal could no longer contain his fury. "every dog has his day!" he exclaimed, in the paroxysm of fury excited in him by his victim's calmness. "to-day i am captain, i am master! your life is in my hands!" "take it," sand replied, without emotion. "but, know there is in heaven a god, avenger of all crimes, and your punishment is not distant!" "if god occupies himself with human beings, there is only time for him to take care of you!" "i am ready to appear before the supreme judge," replied dick sand, coldly, "and death will not make me afraid." "we shall see about that!" howled negoro. "you count on help of some kind, perhaps--help at kazounde, where alvez and i are all-powerful! you are a fool! you say to yourself, perhaps, that your companions are still there, that old tom and the others. undeceive yourself. it is a long time since they were sold and sent to zanzibar--too fortunate if they do not die of fatigue on the way!" "god has a thousand ways of doing justice," replied dick sand. "the smallest instrument is sufficient for him. hercules is free." "hercules!" exclaimed negoro, striking the ground with his foot; "he perished long ago under the lions' and panthers' teeth. i regret only one thing, that is, that those ferocious beasts should have forestalled my vengeance!" "if hercules is dead," replied dick sand, "dingo is alive. a dog like that, negoro, is more than enough to take revenge on a man of your kind. i know you well, negoro; you are not brave. dingo will seek for you; it will know how to find you again. some day you will die under his teeth!" "miserable boy!" exclaimed the portuguese, exasperated. "miserable boy! dingo died from a ball that i fired at it. it is dead, like mrs. weldon and her son; dead, as all the survivors of the 'pilgrim' shall die!" "and as you yourself shall die before long," replied dick sand, whose tranquil look made the portuguese grow pale. negoro, beside himself, was on the point of passing from words to deeds, and strangling his unarmed prisoner with his hands. already he had sprung upon him, and was shaking him with fury, when a sudden reflection stopped him. he remembered that he was going to kill his victim, that all would be over, and that this would spare him the twenty-four hours of torture he intended for him. he then stood up, said a few words to the overseer, standing impassive, commanded him to watch closely over the prisoner, and went out of the barrack. instead of casting him down, this scene had restored all dick sand's moral force. his physical energy underwent a happy reaction, and at the same time regained the mastery. in bending over him in his rage, had negoro slightly loosened the bands that till then had rendered all movement impossible? it was probable, for dick sand thought that his members had more play than before the arrival of his executioner. the young novice, feeling solaced, said to himself that perhaps it would be possible to get his arms free without too much effort. guarded as he was, in a prison firmly shut, that would doubtless be only a torture--only a suffering less; but it was such a moment in life when the smallest good is invaluable. certainly, dick sand hoped for nothing. no human succor could come to him except from outside, and whence could it come to him? he was then resigned. to tell the truth, he no longer cared to live. he thought of all those who had met death before him, and he only aspired to join them. negoro had just repeated what harris had told him: "mrs. weldon and little jack had succumbed." it was, indeed, only too probable that hercules, exposed to so many dangers, must have perished also, and from a cruel death. tom and his companions were at a distance, forever lost to him--dick sand ought to believe it. to hope for anything but the end of his troubles, by a death that could not be more terrible than his life, would be signal folly. he then prepared to die, above all throwing himself upon god, and asking courage from him to go on to the end without giving way. but thoughts of god are good and noble thoughts! it is not in vain that one lifts his soul to him who can do all, and, when dick sand had offered his whole sacrifice, he found that, if one could penetrate to the bottom of his heart, he might perhaps discover there a last ray of hope--that glimmer which a breath from on high can change, in spite of all probabilities, into dazzling light. the hours passed away. night came. the rays of light, that penetrated through the thatch of the barrack, gradually disappeared. the last noises of the "tchitoka," which, during that day had been very silent, after the frightful uproar of the night before--those last noises died out. darkness became very profound in the interior of the narrow prison. soon all reposed in the city of kazounde. dick sand fell into a restoring sleep, that lasted two hours. after that he awoke, still stronger. he succeeded in freeing one of his arms from their bands--it was already a little reduced--and it was a delight for him to be able to extend it and draw it back at will. the night must be half over. the overseer slept with heavy sleep, due to a bottle of brandy, the neck of which was still held in his shut hand. the savage had emptied it to the last drop. dick sand's first idea was to take possession of his jailer's weapons, which might be of great use to him in case of escape; but at that moment he thought he heard a slight scratching at the lower part of the door of the barrack. helping himself with his arms, he succeeded in crawling as far as the door-sill without wakening the overseer. dick sand was not mistaken. the scratching continued, and in a more distinct manner. it seemed that from the outside some one was digging the earth under the door. was it an animal? was it a man? "hercules! if it were hercules!" the young novice said to himself. his eyes were fixed on his guard; he was motionless, and under the influence of a leaden sleep. dick sand, bringing his lips to the door-sill, thought he might risk murmuring hercules's name. a moan, like a low and plaintive bark, replied to him. "it is not hercules," said dick to himself, "but it is dingo. he has scented me as far as this barrack. should he bring me another word from hercules? but if dingo is not dead, negoro has lied, and perhaps--" at that moment a paw passed under the door. dick sand seized it, and recognized dingo's paw. but, if it had a letter, that letter could only be attached to its neck. what to do? was it possible to make that hole large enough for dingo to put in its head? at all events, he must try it. but hardly had dick sand begun to dig the soil with his nails, than barks that were not dingo's sounded over the place. the faithful animal had just been scented by the native dogs, and doubtless could do nothing more than take to flight. some detonations burst forth. the overseer half awoke. dick sand, no longer able to think of escaping, because the alarm was given, must then roll himself up again in his corner, and, after a lovely hope, he saw appear that day which would be without a to-morrow for him. during all that day the grave-diggers' labors were pushed on with briskness. a large number of natives took part, under the direction of queen moini's first minister. all must be ready at the hour named, under penalty of mutilation, for the new sovereign promised to follow the defunct king's ways, point by point. the waters of the brook having been turned aside, it was in the dry bed that the vast ditch was dug, to a depth of ten feet, over an extent of fifty feet long by ten wide. toward the end of the day they began to carpet it, at the bottom and along the walls, with living women, chosen among moini loungga's slaves. generally those unfortunates are buried alive. but, on account of this strange and perhaps miraculous death of moini loungga, it had been decided that they should be drowned near the body of their master. one cannot imagine what those horrible hecatombs are, when a powerful chief's memory must be fitly honored among these tribes of central africa. cameron says that more than a hundred victims were thus sacrificed at the funeral ceremonies of the king of kassongo's father. it is also the custom for the defunct king to be dressed in his most costly clothes before being laid in his tomb. but this time, as there was nothing left of the royal person except a few burnt bones, it was necessary to proceed in another manner. a willow manikin was made, representing moini loungga sufficiently well, perhaps advantageously, and in it they shut up the remains the combustion had spared. the manikin was then clothed with the royal vestments--we know that those clothes are not worth much--and they did not forget to ornament it with cousin benedict's famous spectacles. there was something terribly comic in this masquerade. the ceremony would take place with torches and with great pomp. the whole population of kazounde, native or not, must assist at it. when the evening had come, a long cortège descended the principal street, from the _tchitoka_ as far as the burial place. cries, funeral dances, magicians' incantations, noises from instruments and detonations from old muskets from the arsenals--nothing was lacking in it. jose-antonio alvez, coimbra, negoro, the arab traders and their overseers had increased the ranks of kazounde's people. no one had yet left the great _lakoni_. queen moini would not permit it, and it would not be prudent to disobey the orders of one who was trying the trade of sovereign. the body of the king, laid in a palanquin, was carried in the last ranks of the cortège. it was surrounded by his wives of the second order, some of whom were going to accompany him beyond this life. queen moini, in great state, marched behind what might be called the catafalque. it was positively night when all the people arrived on the banks of the brook; but the resin torches, shaken by the porters, threw great bursts of light over the crowd. the ditch was seen distinctly. it was carpeted with black, living bodies, for they moved under the chains that bound them to the ground. fifty slaves were waiting there till the torrent should close over them. the majority were young natives, some resigned and mute, others giving a few groans. the wives all dressed as for a _fête_, and who must perish, had been chosen by the queen. one of these victims, she who bore the title of second wife, was bent on her hands and knees, to serve as a royal footstool, as she had done in the king's lifetime. the third wife came to hold up the manikin, while the fourth lay at its feet, in the guise of a cushion. before the manikin, at the end of the ditch, a post, painted red, rose from the earth. to this post was fastened a white man, who was going to be counted also among the victims of these bloody obsequies. that white man was dick sand. his body, half naked, bore the marks of the tortures he had already suffered by negoro's orders. tied to this post, he waited for death like a man who has no hope except in another life. however, the moment had not yet arrived when the barricade would be broken. on a signal from the queen, the fourth wife, she who was placed at the king's feet, was beheaded by kazounde's executioner, and her blood flowed into the ditch. it was the beginning of a frightful scene of butchery. fifty slaves fell under the executioner's knife. the bed of the river ran waves of blood. during half an hour the victims' cries mingled with the assistants' vociferations, and one would seek in vain in that crowd for a sentiment of repugnance or of pity. at last queen moini made a gesture, and the barricade that held back the upper waters gradually opened. by a refinement of cruelty, the current was allowed to filter down the river, instead of being precipitated by an instantaneous bursting open of the dam. slow death instead of quick death! the water first drowned the carpet of slaves which covered the bottom of the ditch. horrible leaps were made by those living creatures, who struggled against asphyxia. they saw dick sand, submerged to the knees, make a last effort to break his bonds. but the water mounted. the last heads disappeared under the torrent, that took its course again, and nothing indicated that at the bottom of this river was dug a tomb, where one hundred victims had just perished in honor of kazounde's king. the pen would refuse to paint such pictures, if regard for the truth did not impose the duty of describing them in their abominable reality. man is still there, in those sad countries. to be ignorant of it is not allowable. * * * * * chapter xiii. the interior of a factory. harris and negoro had told a lie in saying that mrs. weldon and little jack were dead. she, her son, and cousin benedict were then in kazounde. after the assault on the ant-hill, they had been taken away beyond the camp on the coanza by harris and negoro, accompanied by a dozen native soldiers. a palanquin, the "kitanda" of the country, received mrs. weldon and little jack. why such care on the part of such a man as negoro? mrs. weldon was afraid to explain it to herself. the journey from the counza to kazounde was made rapidly and without fatigue. cousin benedict, on whom trouble seemed to have no effect, walked with a firm step. as he was allowed to search to the right and to the left, he did not think of complaining. the little troop, then, arrived at kazounde eight days before ibn hamis's caravan. mrs. weldon was shut up, with her child and cousin benedict, in alvez's establishment. little jack was much better. on leaving the marshy country, where he had taken the fever, he gradually became better, and now he was doing well. no doubt neither he nor his mother could have borne the hardships of the caravan; but owing to the manner in which they had made this journey, during which they had been given a certain amount of care, they were in a satisfactory condition, physically at least. as to her companions, mrs. weldon had heard nothing of them. after having seen hercules flee into the forest, she did not know what had become of him. as to dick sand, as harris and negoro were no longer there to torture him, she hoped that his being a white man would perhaps spare him some bad treatment. as to nan, tom, bat, austin, and acteon, they were blacks, and it was too certain that they would be treated as such. poor people! who should never have trodden that land of africa, and whom treachery had just cast there. when ibn hamis's caravan had arrived at kazounde, mrs. weldon, having no communication with the outer world, could not know of the fact: neither did the noises from the _lakoni_ tell her anything. she did not know that tom and his friends had been sold to a trader from oujiji, and that they would soon set out. she neither knew of harris's punishment, nor of king moini loungga's death, nor of the royal funeral ceremonies, that had added dick sand to so many other victims. so the unfortunate woman found herself alone at kazounde, at the trader's mercy, in negoro's power, and she could not even think of dying in order to escape him, because her child was with her. mrs. weldon was absolutely ignorant of the fate that awaited her. harris and negoro had not addressed a word to her during the whole journey from the coanza to kazounde. since her arrival, she had not seen either of them again, and she could not leave the enclosure around the rich trader's private establishment. is it necessary to say now that mrs. weldon had found no help in her large child, cousin benedict? that is understood. when the worthy savant learned that he was not on the american continent, as he believed, he was not at all anxious to know how that could have happened. no! his first movement was a gesture of anger. the insects that he imagined he had been the first to discover in america, those _tsetses_ and others, were only mere african hexapodes, found by many naturalists before him, in their native places. farewell, then, to the glory of attaching his name to those discoveries! in fact, as he was in africa, what could there be astonishing in the circumstance that cousin benedict had collected african insects. but the first anger over, cousin benedict said to himself that the "land of the pharaohs"--so he still called it--possessed incomparable entomological riches, and that so far as not being in the "land of the incas" was concerned, he would not lose by the change. "ah!" he repeated, to himself, and even repeated to mrs. weldon, who hardly listened to him, "this is the country of the _manticores_, those coleopteres with long hairy feet, with welded and sharp wing-shells, with enormous mandibles, of which the most remarkable is the tuberculous _manticore_. it is the country of the _calosomes_ with golden ends; of the goliaths of guinea and of the gabon, whose feet are furnished with thorns; of the sacred egyptian _ateuchus_, that the egyptians of upper egypt venerated as gods. it is here that those sphinxes with heads of death, now spread over all europe, belong, and also those 'idias bigote,' whose sting is particularly dreaded by the senegalians of the coast. yes; there are superb things to be found here, and i shall find them, if these honest people will only let me." we know who those "honest people" were, of whom cousin benedict did not dream of complaining. besides, it has been stated, the entomologist had enjoyed a half liberty in negoro's and harris's company, a liberty of which dick sand had absolutely deprived him during the voyage from the coast to the coanza. the simple-hearted savant had been very much touched by that condescension. finally, cousin benedict would be the happiest of entomologists if he had not suffered a loss to which he was extremely sensitive. he still possessed his tin box, but his glasses no longer rested on his nose, his magnifying glass no longer hung from his neck! now, a naturalist without his magnifying glass and his spectacles, no longer exists. cousin benedict, however, was destined never to see those two optical attendants again, because they had been buried with the royal manikin. so, when he found some insect, he was reduced to thrusting it into his eyes to distinguish its most prominent peculiarities. ah! it was a great loss to cousin benedict, and he would have paid a high price for a pair of spectacles, but that article was not current on the _lakonis_ of kazounde. at all events, cousin benedict could go and come in jose-antonio alvez's establishment. they knew he was incapable of seeking to flee. besides, a high palisade separated the factory from the other quarters of the city, and it would not be easy to get over it. but, if it was well enclosed, this enclosure did not measure less than a mile in circumference. trees, bushes of a kind peculiar to africa, great herbs, a few rivulets, the thatch of the barracks and the huts, were more than necessary to conceal the continent's rarest insects, and to make cousin benedict's happiness, at least, if not his fortune. in fact, he discovered some hexapodes, and nearly lost his eyesight in trying to study them without spectacles. but, at least, he added to his precious collection, and laid the foundation of a great work on african entomology. if his lucky star would let him discover a new insect, to which he would attach his name, he would have nothing more to desire in this world! if alvez's establishment was sufficiently large for cousin benedict's scientific promenades, it seemed immense to little jack, who could walk about there without restraint. but the child took little interest in the pleasures so natural to his age. he rarely quitted his mother, who did not like to leave him alone, and always dreaded some misfortune. little jack often spoke of his father, whom he had not seen for so long. he asked to be taken back to him. he inquired after all, for old nan, for his friend hercules, for bat, for austin, for acteon, and for dingo, that appeared, indeed, to have deserted him. he wished to see his comrade, dick sand, again. his young imagination was very much affected, and only lived in those remembrances. to his questions mrs. weldon could only reply by pressing him to her heart, while covering him with kisses. all that she could do was not to cry before him. meanwhile, mrs. weldon had not failed to observe that, if bad treatment had been spared her during the journey from the coanza, nothing in alvez's establishment indicated that there would be any change of conduct in regard to her. there were in the factory only the slaves in the trader's service. all the others, which formed the object of his trade, had been penned up in the barracks of the _tchitoka_, then sold to the brokers from the interior. now, the storehouses of the establishment were overflowing with stuffs and ivory. the stuffs were intended to be exchanged in the provinces of the center, the ivory to be exported from the principal markets of the continent. in fact, then, there were few people in the factory. mrs. weldon and jack occupied a hut apart; cousin benedict another. they did not communicate with the trader's servants. they ate together. the food, consisting of goat's flesh or mutton, vegetables, tapioca, _sorgho_, and the fruits of the country, was sufficient. halima, a young slave, was especially devoted to mrs. weldon's service. in her way, and as she could, she even evinced for her a kind of savage, but certainty sincere, affection. mrs. weldon hardly saw jose-antonio alvez, who occupied the principal house of the factory. she did not see negoro at all, as he lodged outside; but his absence was quite inexplicable. this absence continued to astonish her, and make her feel anxious at the same time. "what does he want? what is he waiting for?" she asked herself. "why has he brought us to kazounde?" so had passed the eight days that preceded and followed the arrival of ibn hamis's caravan--that is, the two days before the funeral ceremonies, and the six days that followed. in the midst of so many anxieties, mrs. weldon could not forget that her husband must be a prey to the most frightful despair, on not seeing either his wife or his son return to san francisco. mr. weldon could not know that his wife had adopted that fatal idea of taking passage on board the "pilgrim," and he would believe that she had embarked on one of the steamers of the trans-pacific company. now, these steamers arrived regularly, and neither mrs. weldon, nor jack, nor cousin benedict were on them. besides, the "pilgrim" itself was already overdue at sun francisco. as she did not reappear, james w. weldon must now rank her in the category of ships supposed to be lost, because not heard of. what a terrible blow for him, when news of the departure of the "pilgrim" and the embarkation of mrs. weldon should reach him from his correspondents in auckland! what had he done? had he refused to believe that his son and she had perished at sea? but then, where would he search? evidently on the isles of the pacific, perhaps on the american coast. but never, no never, would the thought occur to him that she had been thrown on the coast of this fatal africa! so thought mrs. weldon. but what could she attempt? flee! how? she was closely watched. and then to flee was to venture into those thick forests, in the midst of a thousand dangers, to attempt a journey of more than two hundred miles to reach the coast. and meanwhile mrs. weldon was decided to do it, if no other means offered themselves for her to recover her liberty. but, first, she wished to know exactly what negoro's designs were. at last she knew them. on the th of june, three days after the burial of kazounde's king, negoro entered the factory, where he had not yet set foot since his return. he went right to the hut occupied by his prisoner. mrs. weldon was alone. cousin benedict was taking one of his scientific walks. little jack, watched by the slave halima, was walking in the enclosure of the establishment. negoro pushed open the door of the hut without knocking. "mrs. weldon," said he, "tom and his companions have been sold for the markets of oujiji!" "may god protect them!" said mrs. "weldon, shedding tears. "nan died on the way, dick sand has perished----" "nan dead! and dick!" cried mrs. weldon. "yes, it is just for your captain of fifteen to pay for harris's murder with his life," continued negoro. "you are alone in kazounde, mistress; alone, in the power of the 'pilgrim's' old cook--absolutely alone, do you understand?" what negoro said was only too true, even concerning tom and his friends. the old black man, his son bat, acteon and austin had departed the day before with the trader of oujiji's caravan, without the consolation of seeing mrs. weldon again, without even knowing that their companion in misery was in kazounde, in alvez's establishment. they had departed for the lake country, a journey figured by hundreds of miles, that very few accomplish, and from which very few return. "well?" murmured mrs. weldon, looking at negoro without answering. "mrs. weldon," returned the portuguese, in an abrupt voice, "i could revenge myself on you for the bad treatment i suffered on board the 'pilgrim.' but dick sand's death will satisfy my vengeance. now, mistress, i become the merchant again, and behold my projects with regard to you." mrs. weldon looked at him without saying a word. "you," continued the portuguese, "your child, and that imbecile who runs after the flies, you have a commercial value which i intend to utilize. so i am going to sell you." "i am of a free race," replied mrs. weldon, in a firm tone. "you are a slave, if i wish it." "and who would buy a white woman?" "a man who will pay for her whatever i shall ask him." mrs. weldon bent her head for a moment, for she knew that anything was possible in that frightful country. "you have heard?" continued negoro. "who is this man to whom you will pretend to sell me?" replied mrs. weldon. "to sell you or to re-sell you. at least, i suppose so!" added the portuguese, sneering. "the name of this man?" asked mrs. weldon. "this man--he is james w. weldon, your husband." "my husband!" exclaimed mrs. weldon, who could not believe what she had just heard. "himself, mrs. weldon--your husband, to whom i do not wish simply to restore his wife, his child, and his cousin, but to sell them, and, at a high price." mrs. weldon asked herself if negoro was not setting a trap for her. however, she believed he was speaking seriously. to a wretch to whom money is everything, it seems that we can trust, when business is in question. now, this was business. "and when do you propose to make this business operation?" returned mrs. weldon. "as soon as possible." "where?" "just here. certainly james weldon will not hesitate to come as far as kazounde for his wife and son." "no, he will not hesitate. but who will tell him?" "i! i shall go to san francisco to find james weldon. i have money enough for this voyage." "the money stolen from on board the 'pilgrim?'" "yes, that, and more besides," replied negoro, insolently. "but, if i wish to sell you soon, i also wish to sell you at a high price. i think that james weldon will not regard a hundred thousand dollars----" "he will not regard them, if he can give them," replied mrs. weldon, coldly. "only my husband, to whom you will say, doubtless, that i am held a prisoner at kazounde, in central africa----" "precisely!" "my husband will not believe you without proofs, and he will not be so imprudent as to come to kazounde on your word alone." "he will come here," returned negoro, "if i bring him a letter written by you, which will tell him your situation, which will describe me as a faithful servant, escaped from the hands of these savages." "my hand shall never write that letter!" mrs. weldon replied, in a still colder manner. "you refuse?" exclaimed negoro. "i refuse!" the thought of the dangers her husband would pass through in coming as far as kazounde, the little dependence that could be placed on the portuguese's promises, the facility with which the latter could retain james weldon, after taking the ransom agreed upon, all these reasons taken together made mrs. weldon refuse negoro's proposition flatly and at once. mrs. weldon spoke, thinking only of herself, forgetting her child for the moment. "you shall write that letter!" continued the portuguese. "no!" replied mrs. weldon again. "ah, take care!" exclaimed negoro. "you are not alone here! your child is, like you, in my power, and i well know how----" mrs. weldon wished to reply that that would be impossible. her heart was beating as if it would break; she was voiceless. "mrs. weldon," said negoro, "you will reflect on the offer i have made you. in eight days you will have handed me a letter to james weldon's address, or you will repent of it." that said, the portuguese retired, without giving vent to his anger; but it was easy to see that nothing would stop him from constraining mrs. weldon to obey him. chapter xiv. some news of dr. livingstone. left alone, mrs. weldon at first only fixed her mind on this thought, that eight days would pass before negoro would return for a definite answer. there was time to reflect and decide on a course of action. there could be no question of the portuguese's probity except in his own interest. the "market value" that he attributed to his prisoner would evidently be a safeguard for her, and protect her for the time, at least, against any temptation that might put her in danger. perhaps she would think of a compromise that would restore her to her husband without obliging mr. weldon to come to kazounde. on receipt of a letter from his wife, she well knew that james weldon would set out. he would brave the perils of this journey into the most dangerous countries of africa. but, once at kazounde, when negoro should have that fortune of a hundred thousand dollars in his hands, what guaranty would james w. weldon, his wife, his son and cousin benedict have, that they would be allowed to depart? could not queen moini's caprice prevent them? would not this "sale" of mrs. weldon and hers be better accomplished if it took place at the coast, at some point agreed upon, which would spare mr. weldon both the dangers of the journey to the interior, and the difficulties, not to say the impossibilities, of a return? so reflected mrs. weldon. that was why she had refused at once to accede to negoro's proposition and give him a letter for her husband. she also thought that, if negoro had put off his second visit for eight days, it was because he needed that time to prepare for his journey. if not, he would return sooner to force her consent. "would he really separate me from my child?" murmured she. at that moment jack entered the hut, and, by an instinctive movement, his mother seized him, as if negoro were there, ready to snatch him from her. "you are in great grief, mother?" asked the little boy. "no, dear jack," replied mrs. weldon; "i was thinking of your papa! you would be very glad to see him again?" "oh! yes, mother! is he going to come?" "no! no! he must not come!" "then we will go to see him again?" "yes, darling jack!" "with my friend dick--and hercules--and old tom?" "yes! yes!" replied mrs. weldon, putting her head down to hide her tears. "has papa written to you?" asked little jack. "no, my love." "then you are going to write to him, mother?" "yes--yes--perhaps!" replied mrs. weldon. and without knowing it, little jack entered directly into his mother's thoughts. to avoid answering him further, she covered him with kisses. it must be stated that another motive of some value was joined to the different reasons that had urged mrs. weldon to resist negoro's injunctions. perhaps mrs. weldon had a very unexpected chance of being restored to liberty without her husband's intervention, and even against negoro's will. it was only a faint ray of hope, very vague as yet, but it was one. in fact, a few words of conversation, overheard by her several days before, made her foresee a possible succor near at hand--one might say a providential succor. alvez and a mongrel from oujiji were talking a few steps from the hut occupied by mrs. weldon. it is not astonishing that the slave-trade was the subject of conversation between those worthy merchants. the two _brokers_ in human flesh were talking business. they were discussing the future of their commerce, and were worried about the efforts the english were making to destroy it--not only on the exterior, by cruisers, but in the interior, by their missionaries and their travelers. jose-antonio alvez found that the explorations of these hardy pioneers could only injure commercial operations. his interlocutor shared his views, and thought that all these visitors, civil or religious, should be received with gun-shots. this had been done to some extent. but, to the great displeasure of the traders, if they killed some of these curious ones, others escaped them. now, these latter, on returning to their country, recounted "with exaggerations," alvez said, the horrors of the slave-trade, and that injured this commerce immensely--it being too much diminished already. the mongrel agreed to that, and deplored it; above all, concerning the markets of n'yangwe, of oujiji, of zanzibar, and of all the great lake regions. there had come successively speke, grant, livingstone, stanley, and others. it was an invasion! soon all england and all america would occupy the country! alvez sincerely pitied his comrade, and he declared that the provinces of western africa had been, till that time, less badly treated--that is to say, less visited; but the epidemic of travelers was beginning to spread. if kazounde had been spared, it was not so with cassange, and with bihe, where alvez owned factories. it may be remembered, also, that harris had spoken to negoro of a certain lieutenant cameron, who might, indeed, have the presumption to cross africa from one side to the other, and after entering it by zanzibar, leave it by angola. in fact, the trader had reason to fear, and we know that, some years after, cameron to the south and stanley to the north, were going to explore these little-known provinces of the west, describe the permanent monstrosities of the trade, unveil the guilty complicities of foreign agents, and make the responsibility fall on the right parties. neither alvez nor the mongrel could know anything yet of this exploration of cameron's and of stanley's; but what they did know, what they said, what mrs. weldon heard, and what was of such great interest to her--in a word, what had sustained her in her refusal to subscribe at once to negoro's demands, was this: before long, very probably, dr. david livingstone would arrive at kazounde. now, the arrival of livingstone with his escort, the influence which the great traveler enjoyed in africa, the concourse of portuguese authorities from angola that could not fail to meet him, all that might bring about the deliverance of mrs. weldon and hers, in spite of negoro, in spite of alvez. it was perhaps their restoration to their country within a short time, and without james w. weldon risking his life in a journey, the result of which could only be deplorable. but was there any probability that dr. livingstone would soon visit that part of the continent? yes, for in following that missionary tour, he was going to complete the exploration of central africa. we know the heroic life of this son of the tea merchant, who lived in blantyre, a village in the county of lanark. born on the th of march, , david livingstone, the second of six children, became, by force of study, both a theologian and doctor. after making his novitiate in the "london missionary society," he embarked for the cape in , with the intention of joining the missionary moffat in southern africa. from the cape, the future traveler repaired to the country of the bechnanas, which he explored for the first time, returned to kuruman and married moffat's daughter, that brave companion who would be worthy of him. in he founded a mission in the valley of the mabotsa. four years later, we find him established at kolobeng, two hundred and twenty-five miles to the north of kuruman, in the country of the bechnanas. two years after, in , livingstone left kolobeng with his wife, his three children and two friends, messrs. oswell and murray. august st, of the same year, he discovered lake n'gami, and returned to kolobeng, by descending the zouga. in this journey livingstone, stopped by the bad will of the natives, had not passed beyond the n'gami. a second attempt was not more fortunate. a third must succeed. then, taking a northern route, again with his family and mr. oswell, after frightful sufferings (for lack of food, for lack of water) that almost cost him the lives of his children, he reached the country of the makalolos beside the chobe, a branch of the zambezi. the chief, sebituane, joined him at linyanti. at the end of june, , the zambezi was discovered, and the doctor returned to the cape to bring his family to england. in fact, the intrepid livingstone wished to be alone while risking his life in the daring journey he was going to undertake. on leaving the cape this time, the question was to cross africa obliquely from the south to the west, so as to reach saint paul de loanda. on the third of june, , the doctor set out with a few natives. he arrived at kuruman and skirted the desert of kalahari. the st december he entered litoubarouba and found the country of the bechnanas ravaged by the boers, old dutch colonists, who were masters of the cape before the english took possession of it. livingstone left litoubarouba on the th of january, , penetrated to the center of the country of the bamangouatos, and, on may d, he arrived at linyanti, where the young sovereign of the makalolos, sckeletou, received him with great honor. there, the doctor held back by the intense fevers, devoted himself to studying the manners of the country, and, for the first time, he could ascertain the ravages made by the slave-trade in africa. one month after he descended the chobe, reached the zambezi, entered naniele, visited katonga and libonta, arrived at the confluence of the zambezi and the leeba, formed the project of ascending by that watercourse as far as the portuguese possessions of the west, and, after nine weeks' absence, returned to linyanti to make preparations. on the th of november, , the doctor, accompanied by twenty-seven makalolos, left linyanti, and on the th of december he reached the mouth of the leeba. this watercourse was ascended as far as the territory of the balondas, there where it receives the makonda, which comes from the east. it was the first time that a white man penetrated into this region. january th, livingstone entered shinte's residence. he was the most powerful sovereign of the balondas. he gave livingstone a good reception, and, the th of the same month, after crossing the leeba, he arrived at king katema's. there, again, a good reception, and thence the departure of the little troop that on the th of february encamped on the borders of lake dilolo. on setting out from this point, a difficult country, exigencies of the natives, attacks from the tribes, revolt of his companions, threats of death, everything conspired against livingstone, and a less energetic man would have abandoned the party. the doctor persevered, and on the th of april, he reached the banks of the coango, a large watercourse which forms the eastern boundary of the portuguese possessions, and flows northward into the zaire. six days after, livingstone entered cassange, where the trader alvez had seen him passing through, and on the st of may he arrived at saint paul de loanda. for the first time, and after a journey of two years, africa had just been crossed obliquely from the south to the west. david livingstone left loanda, september th of the same year. he skirted the right bank of that coanza that had been so fatal to dick sand and his party, arrived at the confluence of the lombe, crossing numerous caravans of slaves, passed by cassange again, left it on the th of february, crossed the coango, and reached the zambezi at kawawa. on the th of june he discovered lake dilolo again, saw shinte again, descended the zambezi, and reentered linyanti, which he left on the d of november, . this second part of the journey, which would lead the doctor toward the eastern coast, would enable him to finish completely this crossing of africa from the west to the east. after having visited the famous victoria falls, the "thundering foam," david livingstone abandoned the zambezi to take a northeastern direction. the passage across the territory of the batokas (natives who were besotted by the inhalation of hemp), the visit to semalembone (the powerful chief of the region), the crossing of the kafone, the finding of the zambezi again, the visit to king mbourouma, the sight of the ruins of zambo (an ancient portuguese city), the encounter with the chief mpende on the th of january, (then at war with the portuguese), the final arrival at tete, on the border of the zambezi, on the d of march--such were the principal halting-places of this tour. the d of april livingstone left that station, formerly a rich one, descended as far as the delta of the river, and arrived at quilimane, at its mouth, on the th of may, four years after leaving the cape. on the th of july he embarked for maurice, and on the d of december he was returning to england, after sixteen years' absence. the prize of the geographical society of paris, the grand medal of the london geographical society, and brilliant receptions greeted the illustrious traveler. another would, perhaps, have thought that repose was well earned. the doctor did not think so, and departed on the st of march, , accompanied by his brother charles, captain bedinfield, the drs. kirk and meller, and by messrs. thornton and baines. he arrived in may on the coast of mozambique, having for an object the exploration of the basin of the zambezi. all would not return from this voyage. a little steamer, the "my robert," enabled the explorers to ascend the great river by the rongone. they arrived at tete, september the th; thence reconnoissance of the lower course of the zambezi and of the chire, its left branch, in january, ; visit to lake chirona in april; exploration of the manganjas' territory; discovery of lake nyassa on september th; return to the victoria falls, august th, ; arrival of bishop mackensie and his missionaries at the mouth of the zambezi, january st, ; the exploration of the rovouma, on the "pioneer," in march; the return to lake nyassa in september, , and residence there till the end of october; january th, , arrival of mrs. livingstone and a second steamer, the "lady nyassa:" such were the events that marked the first years of this new expedition. at this time, bishop mackensie and one of his missionaries had already succumbed to the unhealthfulness of the climate, and on the th of april, mrs. livingstone died in her husband's arms. in may, the doctor attempted a second reconnoissance of the rovouma; then, at the end of november, he entered the zambezi again, and sailed up the chire again. in april, , he lost his companion, thornton, sent back to europe his brother charles and dr. kirk, who were both exhausted by sickness, and november th, for the third time, he saw nyassa, of which he completed the hydrography. three months after he was again at the mouth of the zambezi, passed to zanzibar, and july th, , after five years' absence, he arrived in london, where he published his work entitled: "exploration of the zambezi and its branches." january th, , livingstone landed again at zanzibar. he was beginning his fourth voyage. august th, after having witnessed the horrible scenes provoked by the slave-trade in that country, the doctor, taking this time only a few _cipayes_ and a few negroes, found himself again at mokalaose, on the banks of the nyassa. six weeks later, the majority of the men forming the escort took flight, returned to zanzibar, and there falsely spread the report of livingstone's death. he, however, did not draw back. he wished to visit the country comprised between the nyassa and lake tanganyika. december th, guided by some natives, he traversed the loangona river, and april d, , he discovered lake liemmba. there he remained a month between life and death. hardly well again august th he reached lake moero, of which he visited the northern shore, and november st he entered the town of cayembe, where he lived forty days, during which he twice renewed his exploration of lake moero. from cayembe livingstone took a northern direction, with the design of reaching the important town of oujiji, on the tanganyika. surprised by the rising of the waters, and abandoned by his guides, he was obliged to return to cayembe. he redescended to the south june th, and six weeks after gained the great lake bangoneolo. he remained there till august th, and then sought to reascend toward lake tanganyika. what a journey! on setting out, january th, , the heroic doctor's feebleness was such that be had to be carried. in february he at last reached the lake and arrived at oujiji, where he found some articles sent to his address by the oriental company of calcutta. livingstone then had but one idea, to gain the sources of the valley of the nile by ascending the tanganyika. september st he was at bambarre, in the manonyema, a cannibal country, and arrived at the loualaba--that loualaba that cameron was going to suspect, and stanley to discover, to be only the upper zaire, or congo. at mamohela the doctor was sick for eighty days. he had only three servants. july st, , he departed again for the tanganyika, and only reentered oujiji october d. he was then a mere skeleton. meanwhile, before this period, people had been a long time without news of the traveler. in europe they believed him to be dead. he himself had almost lost hope of being ever relieved. eleven days after his entrance into oujiji shots were heard a quarter of a mile from the lake. the doctor arrives. a man, a white man, is before him. "doctor livingstone, i presume?" "yes," replied the latter, raising his cap, with a friendly smile. their hands were warmly clasped. "i thank god," continued the white man, "that he has permitted me to meet you." "i am happy," said livingstone, "to be here to receive you." the white man was the american stanley, a reporter of the new york _herald_, whom mr. bennett, the proprietor of that journal, had just sent to find david livingstone. in the month of october, , this american, without hesitation, without a word, simply as a hero, had embarked at bombay for zanzibar, and almost following speke and burton's route, after untold sufferings, his life being menaced several times, he arrived at oujiji. the two travelers, now become fast friends, then made an expedition to the north of lake tanganyika. they embarked, pushed as far as cape malaya, and after a minute exploration, were of the opinion that the great lake had for an outlet a branch of the loualaba. it was what cameron and stanley himself were going to determine positively some years after. december th, livingstone and his companion were returning to oujiji. stanley prepared to depart. december th, after a navigation of eight days, the doctor and he arrived at ousimba; then, february d, they entered kouihara. march th was the day of parting. "you have accomplished," said the doctor to his companion, "what few men would have done, and done it much better than certain great travelers. i am very grateful to you for it. may god lead you, my friend, and may he bless you!" "may he," said stanley, taking livingstone's hand, "bring you back to us safe and sound, dear doctor!" stanley drew back quickly from this embrace, and turned so as to conceal his tears. "good-by, doctor, dear friend," he said in a stifled voice. "good-by," replied livingstone, feebly. stanley departed, and july th, , he landed at marseilles. livingstone was going to return to his discoveries. august th, after five months passed at konihara, accompanied by his black servants, souzi, chouma, and amoda, by two other servants, by jacob wainwright, and by fifty-six men sent by stanley, he went toward the south of the tanganyika. a month after, the caravan arrived at m'oura, in the midst of storms, caused by an extreme drought. then came the rains, the bad will of the natives, and the loss of the beasts of burden, from falling under the stings of the tsetse. january th, , the little troop was at tchitounkone. april th, after having left lake bangoneolo to the east, the troop was going toward the village of tchitambo. at that place some traders had left livingstone. this is what alvez and his colleague had learned from them. they had good reason to believe that the doctor, after exploring the south of the lake, would venture across the loanda, and come to seek unknown countries in the west. thence he was to ascend toward angola, to visit those regions infested by the slave-trade, to push as far as kazounde; the tour seemed to be all marked out, and it was very probable that livingstone would follow it. mrs. weldon then could count on the approaching arrival of the great traveler, because, in the beginning of june, it was already more than two months since he had reached the south of lake bangoneolo. now, june th, the day before that on which negoro would come to claim from mrs. weldon the letter that would put one hundred thousand dollars in his hands, sad news was spread, at which alvez and the traders only rejoiced. may st, , at dawn, dr. david livingstone died. in fact, on april th, the little caravan had reached the village of tchitambo, to the south of the lake. the doctor was carried there on a litter. on the th, in the night, under the influence of excessive grief, he moaned out this complaint, that was hardly heard: "oh, dear! dear!" and he fell back from drowsiness. at the end of an hour he called his servant, souzi, asking for some medicine, then murmuring in a feeble voice: "it is well. now you can go." toward four o'clock in the morning, souzi and five men of the escort entered the doctor's hut. david livingstone, kneeling near his bed, his head resting on his hands, seemed to be engaged in prayer. souzi gently touched his cheek; it was cold. david livingstone was no more. nine months after, his body, carried by faithful servants at the price of unheard-of fatigues, arrived at zanzibar. on april th, , it was buried in westminster abbey, among those of her great men, whom england honors equally with her kings. chapter xv. where a manticore may lead. to what plank of safety will not an unfortunate being cling? will not the eyes of the condemned seek to seize any ray of hope, no matter how vague? so it had been with mrs. weldon. one can understand what she must have felt when she learned, from alvez himself, that dr. livingstone had just died in a little bangoneolo village. it seemed to her that she was more isolated than ever; that a sort of bond that attached her to the traveler, and with him to the civilized world, had just been broken. the plank of safety sank under her hand, the ray of hope went out before her eyes. tom and his companions had left kazounde for the lake region. not the least news of hercules. mrs. weldon was not sure of any one. she must then fall back on negoro's proposition, while trying to amend it and secure a definite result from it. june th, the day fixed by him, negoro presented himself at mrs. weldon's hut. the portuguese was, as always, so he said, perfectly practical. however, he abated nothing from the amount of the ransom, which his prisoner did not even discuss. but mrs. weldon also showed herself very practical in saying to him: "if you wish to make an agreement, do not render it impossible by unacceptable conditions. the exchange of our liberty for the sum you exact may take place, without my husband coming into a country where you see what can be done with a white man! now, i do not wish him to come here at any price!" after some hesitation negoro yielded, and mrs. weldon finished with the concession that james weldon should not venture as far as kazounde. a ship would land him at mossamedes, a little port to the south of angola, ordinarily frequented by slave-ships, and well-known by negoro. it was there that the portuguese would conduct james w. weldon; and at a certain time alvez's agent would bring thither mrs. weldon, jack, and cousin benedict. the ransom would be given to those agents on the giving up of the prisoners, and negoro, who would play the part of a perfectly honest man with james weldon, would disappear on the ship's arrival. mrs. weldon had gained a very important point. she spared her husband the dangers of a voyage to kazounde, the risk of being kept there, after paying the exacted ransom, and the perils of the return. as to the six hundred miles that separated kazounde from mossamedes, by going over them as she had traveled on leaving the coanza, mrs. weldon would only have a little fatigue to fear. besides, it would be to alvez's interest--for he was in the affair--for the prisoners to arrive safe and sound. the conditions being thus settled, mrs. weldon wrote to her husband, leaving to negoro the care of passing himself off as a devoted servant, who had escaped from the natives. negoro took the letter, which did not allow james weldon to hesitate about following him as far as mossamedes, and, the next day, escorted by twenty blacks, he traveled toward the north. why did he take that direction? was it, then, negoro's intention to embark on one of the vessels which frequent the mouths of the congo, and thus avoid the portuguese stations, as well as the penitentiaries in which he had been an involuntary guest? it was probable. at least, that was the reason he gave alvez. after his departure, mrs. weldon must try to arrange her existence in such a manner as to pass the time of her sojourn at kazounde as happily as possible. under the most favorable circumstances, it would last three or four months. negoro's going and returning would require at least that time. mrs. weldon's intention was, not to leave the factory. her child, cousin benedict, and she, were comparatively safe there. halima's good care softened the severity of this sequestration a little. besides, it was probable that the trader would not permit her to leave the establishment. the great premium that the prisoner's ransom would procure him, made it well worth while to guard her carefully. it was even fortunate that alvez was not obliged to leave kazounde to visit his two other factories of bihe and cassange. coimbra was going to take his place in the expedition on new _razzias_ or raids. there was no motive for regretting the presence of that drunkard. above all, negoro, before setting out, had given alvez the most urgent commands in regard to mrs. weldon. it was necessary to watch her closely. they did not know what had become of hercules. if he had not perished in that dreadful province of kazounde, perhaps he would attempt to get near the prisoner and snatch her from alvez's hands. the trader perfectly understood a situation which ciphered itself out by a good number of dollars. he would answer for mrs. weldon as for his own body. so the monotonous life of the prisoner during the first days after her arrival at the factory, was continued. what passed in this enclosure reproduced very exactly the various acts of native existence outside. alvez lived like the other natives of kazounde. the women of the establishment worked as they would have done in the town, for the greater comfort of their husbands or their masters. their occupations included preparing rice with heavy blows of the pestle in wooden mortars, to perfect decortication; cleansing and winnowing maize, and all the manipulations necessary to draw from it a granulous substance which serves to compose that potage called "mtyelle" in the country; the harvesting of the _sorgho_, a kind of large millet, the ripening of which had just been solemnly celebrated at this time; the extraction of that fragrant oil from the "mpafon" drupes, kinds of olives, the essence of which forms a perfume sought for by the natives; spinning of the cotton, the fibers of which are twisted by means of a spindle a foot and a half long, to which the spinners impart a rapid rotation; the fabrication of bark stuffs with the mallet; the extraction from the tapioca roots, and the preparation of the earth for the different products of the country, cassava, flour that they make from the manioc beans, of which the pods, fifteen inches long, named "mositsanes," grow on trees twenty feet high; arachides intended to make oil, perennial peas of a bright blue, known under the name of "tchilobes," the flowers of which relieve the slightly insipid taste of the milk of sorgho; native coffee, sugar canes, the juice of which is reduced to a syrup; onions, indian pears, sesamum, cucumbers, the seeds of which are roasted like chestnuts; the preparation of fermented drinks, the "malofori," made with bananas, the "pombe" and other liquors; the care of the domestic animals, of those cows that only allow themselves to be milked in the presence of their little one or of a stuffed calf; of those heifers of small race, with short horns, some of which have a hump; of those goats which, in the country where their flesh serves for food, are an important object of exchange, one might say current money like the slave; finally, the feeding of the birds, swine, sheep, oxen, and so forth. this long enumeration shows what rude labors fall on the feeble sex in those savage regions of the african continent. during this time the men smoke tobacco or hemp, chase the elephant or the buffalo, and hire themselves to the traders for the raids. the harvest of maize or of slaves is always a harvest that takes place in fixed seasons. of those various occupations, mrs. weldon only saw in alvez's factory the part laid on the women. sometimes she stopped, looking at them, while the slaves, it must be said, only replied to her by ugly grimaces. a race instinct led these unfortunates to hate a white woman, and they had no commiseration for her in their hearts. halima alone was an exception, and mrs. weldon, having learned certain words of the native language, was soon able to exchange a few sentences with the young slave. little jack often accompanied his mother when she walked in the inclosure; but he wished very much to go outside. there was, however, in an enormous baobab, marabout nests, formed of a few sticks, and "souimangas" nests, birds with scarlet breasts and throats, which resemble those of the tissirms; then "widows," that strip the thatch for the benefit of their family; "calaos," whose song was agreeable, bright gray parrots with red tails, which, in the manyema, are called "rouss," and give their name to the chiefs of the tribes; insectivorous "drougos," similar to gray linnets, with large, red beaks. here and there also fluttered hundreds of butterflies of different species, especially in the neighborhood of the brooks that crossed the factory; but that was rather cousin benedict's affair than little jack's, and the latter regretted greatly not being taller, so as to look over the walls. alas! where was his poor friend, dick sand--he who had brought him so high up in the "pilgrim's" masts? how he would have followed him on the branches of those trees, whose tops rose to more than a hundred feet! what good times they would have had together! cousin benedict always found himself very well where he was, provided insects were not lacking. happily, he had discovered in the factory--and he studied as much as he could without magnifying glass or spectacles--a small bee which forms its cells among the worm-holes of the wood, and a "sphex" that lays its eggs in cells that are not its own, as the cuckoo in the nests of other birds. mosquitoes were not lacking either, on the banks of the rivulets, and they tattooed him with bites to the extent of making him unrecognizable. and when mrs. weldon reproached him with letting himself be thus devoured by those venomous insects: "it is their instinct, cousin weldon," he replied to her, scratching himself till the blood came; "it is their instinct, and we must not have a grudge against them!" at last, one day--it was the th of june--cousin benedict was on the point of being the happiest of entomologists. but this adventure, which had unexpected consequences, needs to be related with some minuteness. it was about eleven o'clock in the morning. an overpowering heat had obliged the inhabitants of the factory to keep in their huts, and one would not even meet a single native in the streets of kazounde. mrs. weldon was dozing near little jack, who was sleeping soundly. cousin benedict, himself, suffering from the influence of this tropical temperature, had given up his favorite hunts, which was a great sacrifice for him, for, in those rays of the midday sun, he heard the rustle of a whole world of insects. he was sheltered, then, at the end of his hut, and there, sleep began to take possession of him in this involuntary siesta. suddenly, as his eyes half closed, he heard a humming; this is one of those insupportable buzzings of insects, some of which can give fifteen or sixteen thousand beats of their wings in a second. "a hexapode!" exclaimed cousin benedict, awakened at once, and passing from the horizontal to the vertical position. there was no doubt that it was a hexapode that was buzzing in his hut. but, if cousin benedict was very near-sighted, he had at least very acute hearing, so acute even that he could recognize one insect from another by the intensity of its buzz, and it seemed to him that this one was unknown, though it could only be produced by a giant of the species. "what is this hexapode?" cousin benedict asked himself. behold him, seeking to perceive the insect, which was very difficult to his eyes without glasses, but trying above all to recognize it by the buzzing of its wings. his instinct as an entomologist warned him that he had something to accomplish, and that the insect, so providentially entered into his hut, ought not to be the first comer. cousin benedict no longer moved. he listened. a few rays of light reached him. his eyes then discovered a large black point that flew about, but did not pass near enough for him to recognize it. he held his breath, and if he felt himself stung in some part of the face or hands, he was determined not to make a single movement that might put his hexapode to flight. at last the buzzing insect, after turning around him for a long time, came to rest on his head. cousin benedict's mouth widened for an instant, as if to give a smile--and what a smile! he felt the light animal running on his hair. an irresistible desire to put his hand there seized him for a moment; but he resisted it, and did well. "no, no!" thought he, "i would miss it, or what would be worse, i would injure it. let it come more within my reach. see it walking! it descends. i feel its dear little feet running on my skull! this must be a hexapode of great height. my god! only grant that it may descend on the end of my nose, and there, by squinting a little, i might perhaps see it, and determine to what order, genus, species, or variety it belongs." so thought cousin benedict. but it was a long distance from his skull, which was rather pointed, to the end of his nose, which was very long. how many other roads the capricious insect might take, beside his ears, beside his forehead--roads that would take it to a distance from the savant's eyes--without counting that at any moment it might retake its flight, leave the hut, and lose itself in those solar rays where, doubtless, its life was passed, and in the midst of the buzzing of its congeners that would attract it outside! cousin benedict said all that to himself. never, in all his life as an entomologist, had he passed more touching minutes. an african hexapode, of a new species, or, at least, of a new variety, or even of a new sub-variety, was there on his head, and he could not recognize it except it deigned to walk at least an inch from his eyes. however, cousin benedict's prayer must be heard. the insect, after having traveled over the half-bald head, as on the summit of some wild bush, began to descend cousin benedict's forehead, and the latter might at last conceive the hope that it would venture to the top of his nose. once arrived at that top, why would it not descend to the base? "in its place, i--i would descend," thought the worthy savant. what is truer than that, in cousin benedict's place, any other would have struck his forehead violently, so as to crush the enticing insect, or at least to put it to flight. to feel six feet moving on his skin, without speaking of the fear of being bitten, and not make a gesture, one will agree that it was the height of heroism. the spartan allowing his breast to be devoured by a fox; the roman holding burning coals between his fingers, were not more masters of themselves than cousin benedict, who was undoubtedly descended from those two heroes. after twenty little circuits, the insect arrived at the top of the nose. then there was a moment's hesitation that made all cousin benedict's blood rush to his heart. would the hexapode ascend again beyond the line of the eyes, or would it descend below? it descended. cousin benedict felt its caterpillar feet coming toward the base of his nose. the insect turned neither to the right nor to the left. it rested between its two buzzing wings, on the slightly hooked edge of that learned nose, so well formed to carry spectacles. it cleared the little furrow produced by the incessant use of that optical instrument, so much missed by the poor cousin, and it stopped just at the extremity of his nasal appendage. it was the best place this haxapode could choose. at that distance, cousin benedict's two eyes, by making their visual rays converge, could, like two lens, dart their double look on the insect. "almighty god!" exclaimed cousin benedict, who could not repress a cry, "the tuberculous _manticore_." now, he must not cry it out, he must only think it. but was it not too much to ask from the most enthusiastic of entomologists? to have on the end of his nose a tuberculous _manticore_, with large elytrums--an insect of the cicendeletes tribe--a very rare specimen in collections--one that seems peculiar to those southern parts of africa, and yet not utter a cry of admiration; that is beyond human strength. unfortunately the _manticore_ heard this cry, which was almost immediately followed by a sneeze, that shook the appendage on which it rested. cousin benedict wished to take possession of it, extended his hand, shut it violently, and only succeeded in seizing the end of his own nose. "malediction!" exclaimed he. but then he showed a remarkable coolness. he knew that the tuberculous _manticore_ only flutters about, so to say, that it walks rather than flies. he then knelt, and succeeded in perceiving, at less than ten inches from his eyes, the black point that was gliding rapidly in a ray of light. evidently it was better to study it in this independent attitude. only he must not lose sight of it. "to seize the _manticore_ would be to risk crushing it," cousin benedict said to himself. "no; i shall follow it! i shall admire it! i have time enough to take it!" was cousin benedict wrong? however that may be, see him now on all fours, his nose to the ground like a dog that smells a scent, and following seven or eight inches behind the superb hexapode. one moment after he was outside his hut, under the midday sun, and a few minutes later at the foot of the palisade that shut in alvez's establishment. at this place was the _manticore_ going to clear the enclosure with a bound, and put a wall between its adorer and itself? no, that was not in its nature, and cousin benedict knew it well. so he was always there, crawling like a snake, too far off to recognize the insect entomologically--besides, that was done--but near enough to perceive that large, moving point traveling over the ground. the _manticore_, arrived near the palisade, had met the large entrance of a mole-hill that opened at the foot of the enclosure. there, without hesitating, it entered this subterranean gallery, for it is in the habit of seeking those obscure passages. cousin benedict believed that he was going to lose sight of it. but, to his great surprise, the passage was at least two feet high, and the mole-hill formed a gallery where his long, thin body could enter. besides, he put the ardor of a ferret into his pursuit, and did not even perceive that in "earthing" himself thus, he was passing outside the palisade. in fact, the mole-hill established a natural communication between the inside and the outside. in half a minute cousin benedict was outside of the factory. that did not trouble him. he was absorbed in admiration of the elegant insect that was leading him on. but the latter, doubtless, had enough of this long walk. its elytrums turned aside, its wings spread out. cousin benedict felt the danger, and, with his curved hand, he was going to make a provisional prison for the _manticore_, when--f-r-r-r-r!--it flew away! what despair! but the _manticore_ could not go far. cousin benedict rose; he looked, he darted forward, his two hands stretched out and open. the insect flew above his head, and he only perceived a large black point, without appreciable form to him. would the _manticore_ come to the ground again to rest, after having traced a few capricious circles around cousin benedict's bald head? all the probabilities were in favor of its doing so. unfortunately for the unhappy savant, this part of alvez's establishment, which was situated at the northern extremity of the town, bordered on a vast forest, which covered the territory of kazounde for a space of several square miles. if the _manticore_ gained the cover of the trees, and if there, it should flutter from branch to branch, he must renounce all hope of making it figure in that famous tin box, in which it would be the most precious jewel. alas! that was what happened. the _manticore_ had rested again on the ground. cousin benedict, having the unexpected hope of seeing it again, threw himself on the ground at once. but the _manticore_ no longer walked: it proceeded by little jumps. cousin benedict, exhausted, his knees and hands bleeding, jumped also. his two arms, his hands open, were extended to the right, to the left, according as the black point bounded here or there. it might be said that he was drawing his body over that burning soil, as a swimmer does on the surface of the water. useless trouble! his two hands always closed on nothing. the insect escaped him while playing with him, and soon, arrived under the fresh branches, it arose, after throwing into cousin benedict's ear, which it touched lightly, the most intense but also the most ironical buzzing of its coleopter wings. "malediction!" exclaimed cousin benedict, a second time. "it escapes me. ungrateful hexapode! thou to whom i reserved a place of honor in my collection! well, no, i shall not give thee up! i shall follow thee till i reach thee!" he forgot, this discomfited cousin, that his nearsighted eyes would not enable him to perceive the _manticore_ among the foliage. but he was no longer master of himself. vexation, anger, made him a fool. it was himself, and only himself, that he must blame for his loss. if he had taken possession of the insect at first, instead of following it "in its independent ways," nothing of all that would have happened, and he would possess that admirable specimen of african _manticores_, the name of which is that of a fabulous animal, having a man's head and a lion's body. cousin benedict had lost his head. he little thought that the most unforeseen of circumstances had just restored him to liberty. he did not dream that the ant-hill, into which he had just entered, had opened to him an escape, and that he had just left alvez's establishment. the forest was there, and under the trees was his _manticore_, flying away! at any price, he wanted to see it again. see him, then, running across the thick forest, no longer conscious even of what he was doing, always imagining he saw the precious insect, beating the air with his long arms like a gigantic field-spider. where he was going, how he would return, and if he should return, he did not even ask himself, and for a good mile he made his way thus, at the risk of being met by some native, or attacked by some beast. suddenly, as he passed near a thicket, a gigantic being sprang out and threw himself on him. then, as cousin benedict would have done with the _manticore_, that being seized him with one hand by the nape of the neck, with the other by the lower part of the back, and before he had time to know what was happening, he was carried across the forest. truly, cousin benedict had that day lost a fine occasion of being able to proclaim himself the happiest entomologist of the five parts of the world. * * * * * chapter xvi. a magician. when mrs. weldon, on the th of the month, did not see cousin benedict reappear at the accustomed hour, she was seized with the greatest uneasiness. she could not imagine what had become of her big baby. that he had succeeded in escaping from the factory, the enclosure of which was absolutely impassable, was not admissible. besides, mrs. weldon knew her cousin. had one proposed to this original to flee, abandoning his tin box and his collection of african insects, he would have refused without the shadow of hesitation. now, the box was there in the hut, intact, containing all that the savant had been able to collect since his arrival on the continent. to suppose that he was voluntarily separated from his entomological treasures, was inadmissible. nevertheless, cousin benedict was no longer in jose-antonio alvez's establishment. during all that day mrs. weldon looked for him persistently. little jack and the slave halima joined her. it was useless. mrs. weldon was then forced to adopt this sad hypothesis: the prisoner had been carried away by the trader's orders, for motives that she could not fathom. but then, what had alvez done with him? had he incarcerated him in one of the barracks of the large square? why this carrying away, coming after the agreement made between mrs. weldon and negoro, an agreement which included cousin benedict in the number of the prisoners whom the trader would conduct to mossamedes, to be placed in james w. weldon's hands for a ransom? if mrs. weldon had been a witness of alvez's anger, when the latter learned of the prisoner's disappearance, she would have understood that this disappearance was indeed made against his will. but then, if cousin benedict had escaped voluntarily, why had he not let her into the secret of his escape? however, the search of alvez and his servants, which was made with the greatest care, led to the discovery of that mole-hill, which put the factory in direct communication with the neighboring forest. the trader no longer doubted that the "fly-hunter" had fled by that narrow opening. one may then judge of his fury, when he said to himself that this flight would doubtless be put to account, and would diminish the prize that the affair would bring him. "that imbecile is not worth much," thought he, "nevertheless, i shall be compelled to pay dear for him. ah! if i take him again!" but notwithstanding the searchings that were made inside, and though the woods were beaten over a large radius, it was impossible to find any trace of the fugitive. mrs. weldon must resign herself to the loss of her cousin, and alvez mourn over his prisoner. as it could not be admitted that the latter had established communications with the outside, it appeared evident that chance alone had made him discover the existence of the mole-hill, and that he had taken flight without thinking any more of those he left behind than if they had never existed. mrs. weldon was forced to allow that it must be so, but she did not dream of blaming the poor man, so perfectly unconscious of his actions. "the unfortunate! what will become of him?" she asked herself. it is needless to say that the mole-hill had been closed up the same day, and with the greatest care, and that the watch was doubled inside as well as outside the factory. the monotonous life of the prisoners then continued for mrs. weldon and her child. meanwhile, a climatic fact, very rare at that period of the year, was produced in the province. persistent rains began about the th of june, though the _masika_ period, that finishes in april, was passed. in fact, the sky was covered, and continual showers inundated the territory of kazounde. what was only a vexation for mrs. weldon, because she must renounce her walks inside the factory, became a public misfortune for the natives. the low lands, covered with harvests already ripe, were entirely submerged. the inhabitants of the province, to whom the crop suddenly failed, soon found themselves in distress. all the labors of the season were compromised, and queen moini, any more than her ministers, did not know how to face the catastrophe. they then had recourse to the magicians, but not to those whose profession is to heal the sick by their incantations and sorceries, or who predict success to the natives. there was a public misfortune on hand, and the best "mganngas," who have the privilege of provoking or stopping the rains, were prayed to, to conjure away the peril. their labor was in vain. it was in vain that they intoned their monotonous chant, rang their little bells and hand-bells, employed their most precious amulets, and more particularly, a horn full of mud and bark, the point of which was terminated by three little horns. the spirits were exorcised by throwing little balls of dung, or in spitting in the faces of the most august personages of the court; but they did not succeed in chasing away the bad spirits that presided over the formation of the clouds. now, things were going from bad to worse, when queen moini thought of inviting a celebrated magician, then in the north of angola. he was a magician of the first order, whose power was the more marvelous because they had never tested it in this country where he had never come. but there was no question of its success among the masikas. it was on the th of june, in the morning, that the new magician suddenly announced his arrival at kazounde with great ringing of bells. this sorcerer came straight to the "tchitoka," and immediately the crowd of natives rushed toward him. the sky was a little less rainy, the wind indicated a tendency to change, and those signs of calm, coinciding with the arrival of the magician, predisposed the minds of the natives in his favor. besides, he was a superb man--a black of the finest water. he was at least six feet high, and must be extraordinarily strong. this prestige already influenced the crowd. generally, the sorcerers were in bands of three, four, or five when they went through the villages, and a certain number of acolytes, or companions, made their cortege. this magician was alone. his whole breast was zebraed with white marks, done with pipe clay. the lower part of his body disappeared under an ample skirt of grass stuff, the "train" of which would not have disgraced a modern elegant. a collar of birds' skulls was round his neck; on his head was a sort of leathern helmet, with plumes ornamented with pearls; around his loins a copper belt, to which hung several hundred bells, noisier than the sonorous harness of a spanish mule: thus this magnificent specimen of the corporation of native wizards was dressed. all the material of his art was comprised in a kind of basket, of which a calebash formed the bottom, and which was filled with shells, amulets, little wooden idols, and other fetiches, plus a notable quantity of dung balls, important accessories to the incantations and divinatory practises of the center of africa. one peculiarity was soon discovered by the crowd. this magician was dumb. but this infirmity could only increase the consideration with which they were disposed to surround him. he only made a guttural sound, low and languid, which had no signification. the more reason for being well skilled in the mysteries of witchcraft. the magician first made the tour of the great place, executing a kind of dance which put in motion all his chime of bells. the crowd followed, imitating his movements--it might be said, as a troop of monkeys following a gigantic, four-handed animal. then, suddenly, the sorcerer, treading the principal street of kazounde, went toward the royal residence. as soon as queen moini had been informed of the arrival of the new wizard, she appeared, followed by her courtiers. the magician bowed to the ground, and lifted up his head again, showing his superb height. his arms were then extended toward the sky, which was rapidly furrowed by masses of clouds. the sorcerer pointed to those clouds with his hand; he imitated their movements in an animated pantomime. he showed them fleeing to the west, but returning to the east by a rotary movement that no power could stop. then, suddenly, to the great surprise of the town and the court, this sorcerer took the redoubtable sovereign of kazounde by the hand. a few courtiers wished to oppose this act, which was contrary to all etiquette; but the strong magician, seizing the nearest by the nape of the neck, sent him staggering fifteen paces off. the queen did not appear to disapprove of this proud manner of acting. a sort of grimace, which ought to be a smile, was addressed to the wizard, who drew the queen on with rapid steps, while the crowd rushed after him. this time it was toward alvez's establishment that the sorcerer directed his steps. he soon reached the door, which was shut. a simple blow from his shoulder threw it to the ground, and he led the conquered queen into the interior of the factory. the trader, his soldiers and his slaves, ran to punish the daring being who took it upon himself to throw down doors without waiting for them to be opened to him. suddenly, seeing that their sovereign did not protest, they stood still, in a respectful attitude. no doubt alvez was about to ask the queen why he was honored by her visit, but the magician did not give him time. making the crowd recede so as to leave a large space free around him, he recommenced his pantomime with still greater animation. he pointed to the clouds, he threatened them, he exorcised them; he made a sign as if he could first stop them, and then scatter them. his enormous cheeks were puffed out, and he blew on this mass of heavy vapors as if he had the strength to disperse them. then, standing upright, he seemed to intend stopping them in their course, and one would have said that, owing to his gigantic height, he could have seized them. the superstitious moini, "overcome" by the acting of this tall comedian, could no longer control herself. cries escaped her. she raved in her turn, and instinctively repeated the magician's gestures. the courtiers and the crowd followed her example, and the mute's guttural sounds were lost amid those songs; cries, and yells which the native language furnishes with so much prodigality. did the clouds cease to rise on the eastern horizon and veil the tropical sun? did they vanish before the exorcisms of this new wizard? no. and just at this moment, when the queen and her people imagined that they had appeased the evil spirits that had watered them with so many showers, the sky, somewhat clear since daybreak, became darker than ever. large drops of rain fell pattering on the ground. then a sudden change took place in the crowd. they then saw that this sorcerer was worth no more than the others. the queen's brows were frowning. they understood that he at least was in danger of losing his ears. the natives had contracted the circle around him; fists threatened him, and they were about to punish him, when an unforeseen incident changed the object of their evil intentions. the magician, who overlooked the whole yelling crowd, stretched his arms toward one spot in the enclosure. the gesture was so imperious that all turned to look at it. mrs. weldon and little jack, attracted by the noise and the clamor, had just left their hut. the magician, with an angry gesture, had pointed to them with his left hand, while his right was raised toward the sky. they! it was they'! it was this white woman--it was her child--they were causing all this evil. they had brought these clouds from their rainy country, to inundate the territories of kazounde. it was at once understood. queen moini, pointing to mrs. weldon, made a threatening gesture. the natives, uttering still more terrible cries, rushed toward her. mrs. weldon thought herself lost, and clasping her son in her arms, she stood motionless as a statue before this over-excited crowd. the magician went toward her. the natives stood aside in the presence of this wizard, who, with the cause of the evil, seemed to have found the remedy. the trader, alvez, knowing that the life of the prisoner was precious, now approached, not being sure of what he ought to do. the magician had seized little jack, and snatching him from his mother's arms, he held him toward the sky. it seemed as if he were about to dash the child to the earth, so as to appease the gods. with a terrible cry, mrs. weldon fell to the ground insensible. but the magician, after having made a sign to the queen, which no doubt reassured her as to his intentions, raised the unhappy mother, and while the crowd, completely subdued, parted to give him space, he carried her away with her child. alvez was furious, not expecting this result. after having lost one of the three prisoners, to see the prize confided to his care thus escape, and, with the prize, the large bribe promised him by negoro! never! not if the whole territory of kazounde were submerged by a new deluge! he tried to oppose this abduction. the natives now began to mutter against him. the queen had him seized by her guards, and, knowing what it might cost him, the trader was forced to keep quiet, while cursing the stupid credulity of queen moini's subjects. the savages, in fact, expected to see the clouds disappear with those who had brought them, and they did not doubt that the magician would destroy the scourge, from which they suffered so much, in the blood of the strangers. meanwhile, the magician carried off his victims as a lion would a couple of kids which did not satisfy his powerful appetite. little jack was terrified, his mother was unconscious. the crowd, roused to the highest degree of fury, escorted the magician with yells; but he left the enclosure, crossed kazounde, and reentered the forest, walking nearly three miles, without resting for a moment. finally he was alone, the natives having understood that he did not wish to be followed. he arrived at the bank of a river, whose rapid current flowed toward the north. there, at the end of a large opening, behind the long, drooping branches of a thicket which hid the steep bank, was moored a canoe, covered by a sort of thatch. the magician lowered his double burden into the boat, and following himself, shoved out from the bank, and the current rapidly carried them down the stream. the next minute he said, in a very distinct voice: "captain, here are mrs. weldon and little jack; i present them to you. forward. and may all the clouds in heaven fall on those idiots of kazounde!" * * * * * chapter xvii. drifting. it was hercules, not easily recognized in his magician's attire, who was speaking thus, and it was dick sand whom he was addressing--dick sand, still feeble enough, to lean on cousin benedict, near whom dingo was lying. mrs. weldon, who had regained consciousness, could only pronounce these words: "you! dick! you!" the young novice rose, but already mrs. weldon was pressing him in her arms, and jack was lavishing caresses on him. "my friend dick! my friend dick!" repeated the little boy. then, turning to hercules: "and i," he added, "i did not know you!" "hey! what a disguise!" replied hercules, rubbing his breast to efface the variety of colors that striped it. "you were too ugly!" said little jack. "bless me! i was the devil, and the devil is not handsome." "hercules!" said mrs. weldon, holding out her hand to the brave black. "he has delivered you," added dick sand, "as he has saved me, though he will not allow it." "saved! saved! we are not saved yet!" replied hercules. "and besides, without mr. benedict, who came to tell us where you were, mrs. weldon, we could not have done anything." in fact, it was hercules who, five days before, had jumped upon the savant at the moment when, having been led two miles from the factory, the latter was running in pursuit of his precious manticore. without this incident, neither dick sand nor the black would have known mrs. weldon's retreat, and hercules would not have ventured to kazounde in a magician's dress. while the boat drifted with rapidity in this narrow part of the river, hercules related what had passed since his flight from the camp on the coanza; how, without being seen, he had followed the _kitanda_ in which mrs. weldon and her son were; how he had found dingo wounded; how the two had arrived in the neighborhood of kazounde; how a note from hercules, carried by the dog, told dick sand what had become of mrs. weldon; how, after the unexpected arrival of cousin benedict, he had vainly tried to make his way into the factory, more carefully guarded than ever; how, at last, he had found this opportunity of snatching the prisoner from that horrible jose-antonio alvez. now, this opportunity had offered itself that same day. a _mgannga_, or magician, on his witchcraft circuit, that celebrated magician so impatiently expected, was passing through the forest in which hercules roamed every night, watching, waiting, ready for anything. to spring upon the magician, despoil him of his baggage, and of his magician's vestments, to fasten him to the foot of a tree with liane knots that the davenports themselves could not have untied, to paint his body, taking the sorcerer's for a model, and to act out his character in charming and controlling the rains, had been the work of several hours. still, the incredible credulity of the natives was necessary for his success. during this recital, given rapidly by hercules, nothing concerning dick sand had been mentioned. "and you, dick!" asked mrs. weldon. "i, mrs. weldon!" replied the young man. "i can tell you nothing. my last thought was for you, for jack! i tried in vain to break the cords that fastened me to the stake. the water rose over my head. i lost consciousness. when i came to myself, i was sheltered in a hole, concealed by the papyrus of this bank, and hercules was on his knees beside me, lavishing his care upon me." "well! that is because i am a physician," replied hercules; "a diviner, a sorcerer, a magician, a fortuneteller!" "hercules," said mrs. weldon, "tell me, how did you save dick sand?" "did i do it, mrs. weldon?" replied hercules; "might not the current have broken the stake to which our captain was tied, and in the middle of the night, carried him half-dead on this beam, to the place where i received him? besides, in the darkness, there was no difficulty in gliding among the victims that carpeted the ditch, waiting for the bursting of the dam, diving under water, and, with a little strength, pulling up our captain and the stake to which these scoundrels had bound him! there was nothing very extraordinary in all that! the first-comer could have done as much. mr. benedict himself, or even dingo! in fact, might it not have been dingo?" a yelping was heard; and jack, taking hold of the dog's large head, gave him several little friendly taps. "dingo," he asked, "did you save our friend dick?" at the same time he turned the dog's head from right to left. "he says, no, hercules!" said jack. "you see that it was not he. dingo, did hercules save our captain?" the little boy forced dingo's good head to move up and down, five or six times. "he says, yes, hercules! he says, yes!" cried little jack. "you see then that it was you!" "friend dingo," replied hercules, caressing the dog, "that is wrong. you promised me not to betray me." yes, it was indeed hercules, who had risked his life to save dick sand. but he had done it, and his modesty would not allow him to agree to the fact. besides, he thought it a very simple thing, and he repeated that any one of his companions would have done the same under the circumstances. this led mrs. weldon to speak of old tom, of his son, of acteon and bat, his unfortunate companions. they had started for the lake region. hercules had seen them pass with the caravan of slaves. he had followed them, but no opportunity to communicate with them had presented itself. they were gone! they were lost! hercules had been laughing heartily, but now he shed tears which he did not try to restrain. "do not cry, my friend," mrs. weldon said to him. "god may be merciful, and allow us to meet them again." in a few words she informed dick sand of all that had happened during her stay in alvez's factory. "perhaps," she added, "it would have been better to have remained at kazounde." "what a fool i was!" cried hercules. "no, hercules, no!" said dick sand. "these wretches would have found means to draw mr. weldon into some new trap. let us flee together, and without delay. we shall reach the coast before negoro can return to mossamedes. there, the portuguese authorities will give us aid and protection; and when alvez comes to take his one hundred thousand dollars--" "a hundred thousand blows on the old scoundrel's skull!" cried hercules; "and i will undertake to keep the count." however, here was a new complication, although it was very evident that mrs. weldon would not dream of returning to kazounde. the point now was to anticipate negoro. all dick sand's projects must tend toward that end. dick sand was now putting in practise the plan which he had long contemplated, of gaining the coast by utilizing the current of a river or a stream. now, the watercourse was there; its direction was northward, and it was possible that it emptied into the zaire. in that case, instead of reaching st. paul de loanda, it would be at the mouth of the great river that mrs. weldon and her companions would arrive. this was not important, because help would not fail them in the colonies of lower guinea. having decided to descend the current of this river, dick sand's first idea was to embark on one of the herbaceous rafts, a kind of floating isle (of which cameron has often spoken), which drifts in large numbers on the surface of african rivers. but hercules, while roaming at night on the bank, had been fortunate enough to find a drifting boat. dick sand could not hope for anything better, and chance had served him kindly. in fact, it was not one of those narrow boats which the natives generally use. the perogue found by hercules was one of those whose length exceeds thirty feet, and the width four--and they are carried rapidly on the waters of the great lakes by the aid of numerous paddles. mrs. weldon and her companions could install themselves comfortably in it, and it was sufficient to keep it in the stream by means of an oar to descend the current of the river. at first, dick sand, wishing to pass unseen, had formed a project to travel only at night. but to drift twelve hours out of the twenty-four, was to double the length of a journey which might be quite long. happily, dick sand had taken a fancy to cover the perogue with a roof of long grasses, sustained on a rod, which projected fore and aft. this, when on the water, concealed even the long oar. one would have said that it was a pile of herbs which drifted down stream, in the midst of floating islets. such was the ingenious arrangement of the thatch, that the birds were deceived, and, seeing there some grains to pilfer, red-beaked gulls, "arrhinisgas" of black plumage, and gray and white halcyons frequently came to rest upon it. besides, this green roof formed a shelter from the heat of the sun. a voyage made under these conditions might then be accomplished almost without fatigue, but not without danger. in fact, the journey would be a long one, and it would be necessary to procure food each day. hence the risk of hunting on the banks if fishing would not suffice, and dick sand had no firearms but the gun carried off by hercules after the attack on the ant-hill; but he counted on every shot. perhaps even by passing his gun through the thatch of the boat he might fire with surety, like a butter through the holes in his hut. meanwhile, the perogue drifted with the force of the current a distance not less than two miles an hour, as near as dick sand could estimate it. he hoped to make, thus, fifty miles a day. but, on account of this very rapidity of the current, continual care was necessary to avoid obstacles--rocks, trunks of trees, and the high bottoms of the river. besides, it was to be feared that this current would change to rapids, or to cataracts, a frequent occurrence on the rivers of africa. the joy of seeing mrs. weldon and her child had restored all dick sand's strength, and he had posted himself in the fore-part of the boat. across the long grasses, his glance observed the downward course, and, either by voice or gesture, he indicated to hercules, whose vigorous hands held the oar, what was necessary so as to keep in the right direction. mrs. weldon reclined on a bed of dry leaves in the center of the boat, and grew absorbed in her own thoughts. cousin benedict was taciturn, frowning at the sight of hercules, whom he had not forgiven for his intervention in the affair of the manticore. he dreamed of his lost collection, of his entomological notes, the value of which would not be appreciated by the natives of kazounde. so he sat, his limbs stretched out, and his arms crossed on his breast, and at times he instinctively made a gesture of raising to his forehead the glasses which his nose did not support. as for little jack, he understood that he must not make a noise; but, as motion was not forbidden, he imitated his friend dingo, and ran on his hands and feet from one end of the boat to the other. during the first two days mrs. weldon and her companions used the food that hercules had been able to obtain before they started. dick sand only stopped for a few hours in the night, so as to gain rest. but he did not leave the boat, not wishing to do it except when obliged by the necessity of renewing their provisions. no incident marked the beginning of the voyage on this unknown river, which measured, at least, more than a hundred and fifty feet in width. several islets drifted on the surface, and moved with the same rapidity as the boat. so there was no danger of running upon them, unless some obstacle stopped them. the banks, besides, seemed to be deserted. evidently these portions of the territory of kazounde were little frequented by the natives. numerous wild plants covered the banks, and relieved them with a profusion of the most brilliant colors. swallow-wort, iris, lilies, clematis, balsams, umbrella-shaped flowers, aloes, tree-ferns, and spicy shrubs formed a border of incomparable brilliancy. several forests came to bathe their borders in these rapid waters. copal-trees, acacias, "bauhinias" of iron-wood, the trunks covered with a dross of lichens on the side exposed to the coldest winds, fig-trees which rose above roots arranged in rows like mangroves, and other trees of magnificent growth, overhung the river. their high tops, joining a hundred feet above, formed a bower which the solar rays could not penetrate. often, also, a bridge of lianes was thrown from one bank to the other, and during the th little jack, to his intense admiration, saw a band of monkeys cross one of these vegetable passes, holding each other's tail, lest the bridge should break under their weight. these monkeys are a kind of small chimpanzee, which in central africa has received the name of "sokos." they have low foreheads, clear yellow faces, and high-set ears, and are very ugly examples of the _simiesque_ race. they live in bands of a dozen, bark like dogs, and are feared by the natives, whose children they often carry off to scratch or bite. in passing the liane bridge they never suspected that, beneath that mass of herbs which the current bore onward, there was a little boy who would have exactly served to amuse them. the preparations, designed by dick sand, were very well conceived, because these clear-sighted beasts were deceived by them. twenty miles farther on, that same day, the boat was suddenly stopped in its progress. "what is the matter?" asked hercules, always posted at his oar. "a barrier," replied dick sand; "but a natural barrier." "it must be broken, mr. dick." "yes, hercules, and with a hatchet. several islets have drifted upon it, and it is quite strong." "to work, captain! to work!" replied hercules, who came and stood in the fore-part of the perogue. this barricade was formed by the interlacing of a sticky plant with glossy leaves, which twists as it is pressed together, and becomes very resisting. they call it "tikatika," and it will allow people to cross watercourses dry-shod, if they are not afraid to plunge twelve inches into its green apron. magnificent ramifications of the lotus covered the surface of this barrier. it was already dark. hercules could, without imprudence, quit the boat, and he managed his hatchet so skilfully that two hours afterward the barrier had given way, the current turned up the broken pieces on the banks, and the boat again took the channel. must it be confessed! that great child of a cousin benedict had hoped for a moment that they would not be able to pass. such a voyage seemed to him unnecessary. he regretted alvez's factory and the hut that contained his precious entomologist's box. his chagrin was real, and indeed it was pitiful to see the poor man. not an insect; no, not one to preserve! what, then, was his joy when hercules, "his pupil" after all, brought him a horrible little beast which he had found on a sprig of the tikatika. singularly enough the brave black seemed a little confused in presenting it to him. but what exclamations cousin benedict uttered when he had brought this insect, which he held between his index finger and his thumb, as near as possible to his short-sighted eyes, which neither glasses nor microscope could now assist. "hercules!" he cried, "hercules! ah! see what will gain your pardon! cousin weldon! dick! a hexapode, unique in its species, and of african origin! this, at least, they will not dispute with me, and it shall quit me only with my life!" "it is, then, very precious?" asked mrs. weldon. "precious!" cried cousin benedict. "an insect which is neither a coleopter, nor a neuropteran, nor a hymenopter; which does not belong to any of the ten orders recognized by savants, and which they will be rather tempted to rank in the second section of the arachnides. a sort of spider, which would be a spider if it had eight legs, and is, however, a hexapode, because it has but six. ah! my friends, heaven owed me this joy; and at length i shall give my name to a scientific discovery! that insect shall be the 'hexapodes benedictus.'" the enthusiastic savant was so happy--he forgot so many miseries past and to come in riding his favorite hobby--that neither mrs. weldon nor dick sand grudged him his felicitations. all this time the perogue moved on the dark waters of the river. the silence of night was only disturbed by the clattering scales of the crocodiles, or the snorting of the hippopotami that sported on the banks. then, through the sprigs of the thatch, the moon appeared behind the tops of the trees, throwing its soft light to the interior of the boat. suddenly, on the right bank, was heard a distant hubbub, then a dull noise as if giant pumps were working in the dark. it was several hundred elephants, that, satiated by the woody roots which they had devoured during the day, came to quench their thirst before the hour of repose. one would really have supposed that all these trunks, lowered and raised by the same automatic movement, would have drained the river dry. chapter xviii. various incidents. for eight days the boat drifted, carried by the current under the conditions already described. no incident of any importance occurred. for a space of many miles the river bathed the borders of superb forests; then the country, shorn of these fine trees, spread in jungles to the limits of the horizon. if there were no natives in this country--a fact which dick sand did not dream of regretting--the animals at least abounded there. zebras sported on the banks, elks, and "caamas," a species of antelope which were extremely graceful, and they disappeared at night to give place to the leopards, whose growls could be heard, and even to the lions which bounded in the tall grasses. thus far the fugitives had not suffered from these ferocious creatures, whether in the forests or in the river. meanwhile, each day, generally in the afternoon, dick sand neared one bank or the other, moored the boat, disembarked, and explored the shore for a short distance. in fact, it was necessary to renew their daily food. now, in this country, barren of all cultivation, they could not depend upon the tapioca, the sorgho, the maize, and the fruits, which formed the vegetable food of the native tribes. these plants only grew in a wild state, and were not eatable. dick sand was thus forced to hunt, although the firing of his gun might bring about an unpleasant meeting. they made a fire by rubbing a little stick against a piece of the wild fig-tree, native fashion, or even simiesque style, for it is affirmed that certain of the gorillas procure a fire by this means. then, for several days, they cooked a little elk or antelope flesh. during the th of july dick sand succeeded in killing, with a single ball, a "pokou," which gave them a good supply of venison. this animal, was five feet long; it had long horns provided with rings, a yellowish red skin, dotted with brilliant spots, and white on the stomach; and the flesh was found to be excellent. it followed then, taking into account these almost daily landings and the hours of repose that were necessary at night, that the distance on the th of july could hot be estimated as more than one hundred miles. this was considerable, however, and already dick sand asked himself where this interminable river ended. its course absorbed some small tributaries and did not sensibly enlarge. as for the general direction, after having been north for a long time, it took a bend toward the northwest. however, this river furnished its share of food. long lianes, armed with thorns, which served as fishhooks, caught several of those delicately-flavored "sandjikas", which, once smoked, are easily carried in this region; black "usakas" were also caught, and some "mormdes," with large heads, the genciva of which have teeth like the hairs of a brush, and some little "dagalas," the friends of running waters, belonging to the clupe species, and resembling the whitebait of the thames. during the th of july, dick sand had to give proof of extreme coolness. he was alone on the shore, carrying off a "caama," the horns of which showed above the thicket. he had just shot it, and now there bounded, thirty feet off, a formidable hunter, that no doubt came to claim its prey, and was not in a humor to give it up. it was a lion of great height, one of those which the natives call "karamos," and not one of the kind without a mane, named "lion of the nyassi." this one measured five feet in height--a formidable beast. with one bound the lion had fallen on the "caama," which dick sand's ball had just thrown to the ground, and, still full of life, it shook and cried under the paw of the powerful animal. dick sand was disarmed, not having had time to slide a second cartridge into his gun. dick sand, in front, lowering his voice, gave directions to avoid striking against these rotten constructions. the night was clear. they saw well to direct the boat, but they could also be seen. then came a terrible moment. two natives, who talked in loud tones, were squatting close to the water on the piles, between which the current carried the boat, and the direction could not be changed for a narrower pass. now, would they not see it, and at their cries might not the whole village be alarmed? a space of a hundred feet at most remained to be passed, when dick sand heard the two natives call more quickly to each other. one showed the other the mass of drifting herbs, which threatened to break the long liane ropes which they were occupied in stretching at that moment. rising hastily, they called out for help. five or six other blacks ran at once along the piles and posted themselves on the cross-beams which supported them, uttering loud exclamations which the listeners could not understand. in the boat, on the contrary, was absolute silence, except for the few orders given by dick sand in a low voice, and complete repose, except the movement of hercules's right arm moving the oar; at times a low growl from dingo, whose jaws jack held together with his little hands; outside, the murmur of the water which broke against the piles, then above, the cries of the ferocious cannibals. the natives, meanwhile, rapidly drew up their ropes. if they were raised in time the boat would pass, otherwise it would be caught, and all would be over with those who drifted in it! as for slackening or stopping its progress, dick sand could do neither, for the current, stronger under this narrow construction, carried it forward more rapidly. in half a minute the boat was caught between the piles. by an unheard-of piece of fortune, the last effort made by the natives had raised the ropes. but in passing, as dick sand had feared, the boat was deprived of a part of the grasses which now floated at its right. one of the natives uttered a cry. had he had time to recognize what the roof covered, and was he going to alarm his comrades? it was more than probable. dick sand and his friends were already out of reach, and in a few moments, under the impetus of this current, now changed into a kind of rapid, they had lost sight of the lacustrine village. "to the left bank!" dick sand ordered, as being more prudent. "the stream is again navigable." "to the left bank!" replied hercules, giving the oar a vigorous stroke. dick sand stood beside him and looked at the surface of the water, which the moon lit up. he saw nothing suspicious. not a boat had started in pursuit. perhaps these savages had none; and at daybreak not a native appeared, either on the bank or on the water. after that, increasing their precautions, the boat kept close to the left bank. during the four following days, from the th to the th of july, mrs. weldon and her companions remarked that this portion of the territory had decidedly changed. it was no longer a deserted country; it was also a desert, and they might have compared it to that kalahari explored by livingstone on his first voyage. the arid soil recalled nothing of the fertile fields of the upper country. and always this interminable stream, to which might be given the name of river, as it seemed that it could only end at the atlantic ocean. the question of food, in this desert country, became a problem. nothing remained of their former stock. fishing gave little; hunting was no longer of any use. elks, antelopes, pokous, and other animals, could find nothing to live on in this desert, and with them had also disappeared the carnivorous animals. the nights no longer echoed the accustomed roarings. nothing broke the silence but the concert of frogs, which cameron compares with the noise of calkers calking a ship; with riveters who rivet, and the drillers who drill, in a shipbuilder's yard. the country on the two banks was flat and destitute of trees as far as the most distant hills that bounded it on the east and west. the spurges grew alone and in profusion--not the euphosbium which produces cassava or tapioca flour, but those from which they draw an oil which does not serve as food. meantime it is necessary to provide some nourishment. dick sand knew not what to do, and hercules reminded him that the natives often eat the young shoots of the ferns and the pith which the papyrus leaf contains. he himself, while following the caravan of ibn ilamis across the desert, had been more than once reduced to this expedient to satisfy his hunger. happily, the ferns and the papyrus grew in profusion along the banks, and the marrow or pith, which has a sweet flavor, was appreciated by all, particularly by little jack. this was not a very cheering prospect; the food was not strengthening, but the next day, thanks to cousin benedict, they were better served. since the discovery of the "hexapodus benedictus," which was to immortalize his name, cousin benedict had recovered his usual manners. the insect was put in a safe place, that is to say, stuck in the crown of his hat, and the savant had recommenced his search whenever they were on shore. during that day, while hunting in the high grass, he started a bird whose warbling attracted him. dick sand was going to shoot it, when cousin benedict cried out: "don't fire, dick! don't fire! a bird among five persons would not be enough." "it will be enough for jack," replied dick sand, taking aim at the bird, which was in no hurry to fly away. "no, no!" said cousin benedict, "do not fire! it is an indicator, and it will bring us honey in abundance." dick sand lowered his gun, realizing that a few pounds of honey were worth more than one bird; and cousin benedict and he followed the bird, which rose and flew away, inviting them to go with it. they had not far to go, and a few minutes after, some old trunks, hidden in between the spurges, appeared in the midst of an intense buzzing of bees. cousin benedict would have preferred not to have robbed these industrious hymenopters of the "fruit of their labors," as he expressed it. but dick sand did not understand it in that way. he smoked out the bees with some dry herbs and obtained a considerable quantity of honey. then leaving to the indicator the cakes of wax, which made its share of the profit, cousin benedict and he returned to the boat. the honey was well received, but it was but little, and, in fact, all would have suffered cruelly from hunger, if, during the day of the th, the boat had not stopped near a creek where some locusts swarmed. they covered the ground and the shrubs in myriads, two or three deep. now, cousin benedict not failing to say that the natives frequently eat these orthopters--which was perfectly true--they took possession of this manna. there was enough to fill the boat ten times, and broiled over a mild fire, these edible locusts would have seemed excellent even to less famished people. cousin benedict, for his part, eat a notable quantity of them, sighing, it is true--still, he eat them. nevertheless, it was time for this long series of moral and physical trials to come to an end. although drifting on this rapid river was not so fatiguing as had been the walking through the first forests near the coast, still, the excessive heat of the day, the damp mists at night, and the incessant attacks of the mosquitoes, made this descent of the watercourse very painful. it was time to arrive somewhere, and yet dick sand could see no limit to the journey. would it last eight days or a month? nothing indicated an answer. had the river flowed directly to the west, they would have already reached the northern coast of angola; but the general direction had been rather to the north, and they could travel thus a long time before reaching the coast. dick sand was, therefore, extremely anxious, when a sudden change of direction took place on the morning of the th of july. little jack was in the front of the boat, and he was gazing through the thatch, when a large expanse of water appeared on the horizon. "the sea!" he shouted. at this word dick sand trembled, and came close to little jack. "the sea?" he replied. "no, not yet; but at least a river which flows toward the west, and of which this stream is only a tributary. perhaps it is the zaire itself." "may god grant that is!" replied mrs. weldon. yes; for if this were the zaire or congo, which stanley was to discover a few years later, they had only to descend its course so as to reach the portuguese settlements at its mouth. dick sand hoped that it might be so, and he was inclined to believe it. during the th, th, th and th of july, in the midst of a more fertile country, the boat drifted on the silvery waters of the river. they still took the same precautions, and it was always a mass of herbs that the current seemed to carry on its surface. a few days more, and no doubt the survivors of the "pilgrim" would see the termination of their miseries. self-sacrifice had been shared in by all, and if the young novice would not claim the greater part of it, mrs. weldon would demand its recognition for him. but on the th of july, during the night, an incident took place which compromised the safety of the party. toward three o'clock in the morning a distant noise, still very low, was heard in the west. dick sand, very anxious, wished to know what caused it. while mrs. weldon, jack, and cousin benedict slept in the bottom of the boat, he called hercules to the front, and told him to listen with the greatest attention. the night was calm. not a breeze stirred the atmosphere. "it is the noise of the sea," said hercules, whose eyes shone with joy. "no," replied dick sand, holding down his head. "what is it then?" asked hercules. "wait until day; but we must watch with the greatest care." at this answer, hercules returned to his post. dick sand stood in front, listening all the time. the noise increased. it was soon like distant roaring. day broke almost without dawn. about half a mile down the river, just above the water, a sort of cloud floated in the atmosphere. but it was not a mass of vapor, and this became only too evident, when, under the first solar rays, which broke in piercing it, a beautiful rainbow spread from one bank to the other. "to the shore!" cried dick sand, whose voice awoke mrs. weldon. "it is a cataract! those clouds are spray! to the shore, hercules!" dick sand was not mistaken. before them, the bed of the river broke in a descent of more than a hundred feet, and the waters rushed down with superb but irresistible impetuosity. another half mile, and the boat would have been engulfed in the abyss. chapter xix. s. v. with a vigorous plow of the oar, hercules had pushed toward the left bank. besides, the current was not more rapid in that place, and the bed of the river kept its normal declivity to the falls. as has been said, it was the sudden sinking of the ground, and the attraction was only felt three or four hundred feet above the cataract. on the left bank were large and very thick trees. no light penetrated their impenetrable curtain. it was not without terror that dick sand looked at this territory, inhabited by the cannibals of the lower congo, which he must now cross, because the boat could no longer follow the stream. he could not dream of carrying it below the falls. it was a terrible blow for these poor people, on the eve perhaps of reaching the portuguese villages at its mouth. they were well aided, however. would not heaven come to their assistance? the boat soon reached the left bank of the river. as it drew near, dingo gave strange marks of impatience and grief at the same time. dick sand, who was watching the animal--for all was danger--asked himself if some beast or some native was not concealed in the high papyrus of the bank. but he soon saw that the animal was not agitated by a sentiment of anger. "one would say that dingo was crying!" exclaimed little jack, clasping dingo in his two arms. dingo escaped from him, and, springing into the water, when the boat was only twenty feet from the bank, reached the shore and disappeared among the bushes. neither mrs. weldon, nor dick sand, nor hercules, knew what to think. they landed a few moments after in the middle of a foam green with hairweed and other aquatic plants. some kingfishers, giving a sharp whistle, and some little herons, white as snow, immediately flew away. hercules fastened the boat firmly to a mangrove stump, and all climbed up the steep bank overhung by large trees. there was no path in this forest. however, faint traces on the ground indicated that this place had been recently visited by natives or animals. dick sand, with loaded gun, and hercules, with his hatchet in his hand, had not gone ten steps before they found dingo again. the dog, nose to the ground, was following a scent, barking all the time. a first inexplicable presentiment had drawn the animal to this part of the shore, a second led it into the depths of the wood. that was clearly visible to all. "attention!" said dick sand. "mrs. weldon, mr. benedict, jack, do not leave us! attention, hercules!" at this moment dingo raised its head, and, by little bounds, invited them to follow. a moment after mrs. weldon and her companions rejoined it at the foot of an old sycamore, lost in the thickest part of the wood. there was a dilapidated hut, with disjoined boards, before which dingo was barking lamentably. "who can be there?" exclaimed dick sand. he entered the hut. mrs. weldon and the others followed him. the ground was scattered with bones, already bleached under the discoloring action of the atmosphere. "a man died in that hut!" said mrs. weldon. "and dingo knew that man!" replied dick sand. "it was, it must have been, his master! ah, see!" dick sand pointed to the naked trunk of the sycamore at the end of the hut. there appeared two large red letters, already almost effaced, but which could be still distinguished. dingo had rested its right paw on the tree, and it seemed to indicate them. "s. v.!" exclaimed dick sand. "those letters which dingo knew among all others! those initials that it carries on its collar!" he did not finish, and stooping, he picked up a little copper box, all oxydized, which lay in a corner of the hut. that box was opened, and a morsel of paper fell from it, on which dick sand read these few words: "assassinated--robbed by my guide, negoro-- d december, --here-- miles from the coast--dingo!--with me! "s. vernon." the note told everything. samuel vernon set out with his dog, dingo, to explore the center of africa, guided by negoro. the money which he carried had excited the wretch's cupidity, and he resolved to take possession of it. the french traveler, arrived at this point of the congo's banks, had established his camp in this hut. there he was mortally wounded, robbed, abandoned. the murder accomplished, no doubt negoro took to flight, and it was then that he fell into the hands of the portuguese. recognized as one of the trader alvez's agents, conducted to saint paul de loanda, he was condemned to finish his days in one of the penitentiaries of the colony. we know that he succeeded in escaping, in reaching new zealand, and how he embarked on the "pilgrim" to the misfortune of those who had taken passage on it. but what happened after the crime? nothing but what was easy to understand! the unfortunate vernon, before dying, had evidently had time to write the note which, with the date and the motive of the assassination, gave the name of the assassin. this note he had shut up in that box where, doubtless, the stolen money was, and, in a last effort, his bloody finger had traced like an epitaph the initials of his name. before those two red letters, dingo must have remained for many days! he had learned to know them! he could no longer forget them! then, returned to the coast, the dog had been picked up by the captain of the "waldeck," and finally, on board the "pilgrim," found itself again with negoro. during this time, the bones of the traveler were whitening in the depths of this lost forest of central africa, and he no longer lived except in the remembrance of his dog. yes, such must have been the way the events had happened. as dick sand and hercules prepared to give a christian burial to the remains of samuel yernon, dingo, this time giving a howl of rage, dashed out of the hut. almost at once horrible cries were heard at a short distance. evidently a man was struggling with the powerful animal. hercules did what dingo had done. in his turn he sprang out of the hut, and dick sand, mrs. weldon, jack, benedict, following his steps, saw him throw himself on a man, who fell to the ground, held at the neck by the dog's formidable teeth. it was negoro. in going to the mouth of the zaire, so as to embark for america, this rascal, leaving his escort behind, had come to the very place where he had assassinated the traveler who had trusted himself to him. but there was a reason for it, and all understood it when they perceived some handfuls of french gold which glittered in a recently-dug hole at the foot of a tree. so it was evident that after the murder, and before falling into the hands of the portuguese, negoro had hidden the product of his crime, with the intention of returning some day to get it. he was going to take possession of this gold when dingo scented him and sprang at his throat. the wretch, surprised, had drawn his cutlass and struck the dog at the moment when hercules threw himself on him, crying: "ah, villain! i am going to strangle you at last!" there was nothing more to do. the portuguese gave no sign of life, struck, it maybe said, by divine justice, and on the very spot where the crime had been committed. but the faithful dog had received a mortal blow, and dragging itself to the hut, it came to die there--where samuel vernon had died. hercules buried deep the traveler's remains, and dingo, lamented by all, was put in the same grave as its master. negoro was no more, but the natives who accompanied him from kazounde could not be far away. on not seeing him return, they would certainly seek him along the river. this was a very serious danger. dick sand and mrs. weldon took counsel as to what they should do, and do without losing an instant. one fact acquired was that this stream was the congo, which the natives call kwango, or ikoutouya kongo, and which is the zaire under one longitude, the loualaba under another. it was indeed that great artery of central africa, to which the heroic stanley has given the glorious name of "livingstone," but which the geographers should perhaps replace by his own. but, if there was no longer any doubt that this was the congo, the french traveler's note indicated that its mouth was still one hundred and twenty miles from this point, and, unfortunately, at this place it was no longer navigable. high falls--very likely the falls of ntamo--forbid the descent of any boat. thus it was necessary to follow one or the other bank, at least to a point below the cataracts, either one or two miles, when they could make a raft, and trust themselves again to the current. "it remains, then," said dick sand, in conclusion, "to decide if we shall descend the left bank, where we are, or the right bank of the river. both, mrs. weldon, appear dangerous to me, and the natives are formidable. however, it seems as if we risk more on this bank, because we have the fear of meeting negoro's escort." "let us pass over to the other bank," replied mrs. weldon. "is it practicable?" observed dick sand. "the road to the congo's mouths is rather on the left bank, as negoro was following it. never mind. we must not hesitate. but before crossing the river with you, mrs. weldon, i must know if we can descend it below the falls." that was prudent, and dick sand wished to put his project into execution on the instant. the river at this place was not more than three or four hundred feet wide, and to cross it was easy for the young novice, accustomed to handling the oar. mrs. weldon, jack, and cousin benedict would remain under hercules's care till his return. these arrangements made, dick sand was going to set out, when mrs. weldon said to him: "you do not fear being carried away by the falls, dick?" "no, mrs. weldon. i shall cross four hundred feet above." "but on the other bank--" "i shall not land if i see the least danger." "take your gun." "yes, but do not be uneasy about me." "perhaps it would be better for us not to separate, dick," added mrs. weldon, as if urged by some presentiment. "no--let me go alone," replied dick sand. "i must act for the security of all. before one hour i shall be back. watch well, hercules." on this reply the boat, unfastened, carried dick sand to the other side of the zaire. mrs. weldon and hercules, lying in the papyrus thickets, followed him with their eyes. dick sand soon reached the middle of the stream. the current, without being very strong, was a little accentuated there by the attraction of the falls. four hundred feet below, the imposing roaring of the waters filled the space, and some spray, carried by the western wind, reached the young novice. he shuddered at the thought that the boat, if it had been less carefully watched during the last night, would have been lost over those cataracts, that would only have restored dead bodies. but that was no longer to be feared, and, at that moment, the oar skilfully handled sufficed to maintain it in a direction a little oblique to the current. a quarter of an hour after, dick sand had reached the opposite shore, and was preparing to spring on the bank. at that moment cries were heard, and ten natives rushed on the mass of plants that still hid the boat. they were the cannibals from the lake village. for eight days they had followed the right bank of the river. under that thatch, which was torn by the stakes of their village, they had discovered the fugitives, that is to say, a sure prey for them, because the barrier of the falls would sooner or later oblige those unfortunate ones to land on one or the other side of the river. dick sand saw that he was lost, but he asked himself if the sacrifice of his life might not save his companions. master of himself, standing in the front of the boat, his gun pointed, he held the cannibals in check. meanwhile, they snatched away the thatch, under which they expected to find other victims. when they saw that the young novice alone had fallen into their hands, they betrayed their disappointment by frightful cries. a boy of fifteen among ten! but, then, one of those natives stood up, his arm stretched toward the left bank, and pointed to mrs. weldon and her companions, who, having seen all and not knowing what to do, had just climbed up the bank! dick sand, not even dreaming of himself, waited for an inspiration from heaven that might save them. the boat was going to be pushed out into the stream. the cannibals were going to cross the river. they did not budge before the gun aimed at them, knowing the effect of fire-arms. but one of them had seized the oar; he managed it like a man who knew how to use it, and the boat crossed the river obliquely. soon it was not more than a hundred feet from the left bank. "flee!" cried dick sand to mrs. weldon. "flee!" neither mrs. weldon nor hercules stirred. one would say that their feet were fastened to the ground. flee! besides, what good would it do? in less than an hour they would fall into the hands of the cannibals! dick sand understood it. but, then, that supreme inspiration which he asked from heaven was sent him. he saw the possibility of saving all those whom he loved by making the sacrifice of his own life! he did not hesitate to do it. "may god protect them!" murmured he, "and in his infinite goodness may he have pity on me!" at the same instant dick sand pointed his gun at the native who was steering the boat, and the oar, broken by a ball, flew into fragments. the cannibals gave a cry of terror. in fact, the boat, no longer directed by the oar, went with the stream. the current bore it along with increasing swiftness, and, in a few moments, it was only a hundred feet from the falls. mrs. weldon and hercules understood all. dick sand attempted to save them by precipitating the cannibals, with himself, into the abyss. little jack and his mother, kneeling on the bank, sent him a last farewell. hercules's powerless hand was stretched out to him. at that moment the natives, wishing to gain the left bank by swimming, threw themselves out of the boat, which they capsized. dick sand had lost none of his coolness in the presence of the death which menaced him. a last thought then came to him. it was that this boat, even because it was floating keel upward, might serve to save him. in fact, two dangers were to be feared when dick sand should be going over the cataract: asphyxia by the water, and asphyxia by the air. now, this overturned hull was like a box, in which he might, perhaps, keep his head out of the water, at the same time that he would be sheltered from the exterior air, which would certainly have stifled him in the rapidity of his fall. in these conditions, it seems that a man would have some chance of escaping the double asphyxia, even in descending the cataracts of a niagara. dick sand saw all that like lightning. by a last instinct he clung to the seat which united the two sides of the boat, and, his head out of the water, under the capsized hull, he felt the irresistible current carrying him away, and the almost perpendicular fall taking place. the boat sank into the abyss hollowed out by the waters at the foot of the cataract, and, after plunging deep, returned to the surface of the river. dick sand, a good swimmer, understood that his safety now depended on the vigor of his arms. a quarter of an hour after he reached the left bank, and there found mrs. weldon, little jack, and cousin benedict, whom hercules had led there in all haste. but already the cannibals had disappeared in the tumult of the waters. they, whom the capsized boat had not protected, had ceased to live even before reaching the last depths of the abyss, and their bodies were going to be torn to pieces on those sharp rocks on which the under-current of the stream dashed itself. chapter xx. conclusion. two days after, the th of july, mrs. weldon and her companions met a caravan going toward emboma, at the mouth of the congo. these were not slave merchants, but honest portuguese traders, who dealt in ivory. they made the fugitives welcome, and the latter part of the journey was accomplished under more agreeable conditions. the meeting with this caravan was really a blessing from heaven. dick sand would never have been able to descend the zaire on a raft. from the falls of ntamo, as far as yellala, the stream was a succession of rapids and cataracts. stanley counted seventy-two, and no boat could undertake to pass them. it was at the mouth of the congo that the intrepid traveler, four years later, fought the last of the thirty-two combats which he waged with the natives. lower down, in the cataracts of mbelo, he escaped death by a miracle. on the th of august, mrs. weldon, dick sand, jack, hercules, and cousin benedict arrived at emboma. messrs. motta viega and harrison received them with generous hospitality. a steamer was about sailing for the isthmus of panama. mrs. weldon and her companions took passage in it, and happily reached the american coast. a despatch sent to san francisco informed mr. weldon of the unlooked-for return of his wife and his child. he had vainly searched for tidings of them at every place where he thought the "pilgrim" might have been wrecked. finally, on the th of august, the survivors of the shipwreck reached the capital of california. ah! if old tom and his companions had only been with them! what shall we say of dick sand and of hercules? one became the son, the other the friend, of the family. james weldon knew how much he owed to the young novice, how much to the brave black. he was happy; and it was fortunate for him that negoro had not reached him, for he would have paid the ransom of his wife and child with his whole fortune. he would have started for the african coast, and, once there, who can tell to what dangers, to what treachery, he would have been exposed? a single word about cousin benedict. the very day of his arrival the worthy savant, after having shaken hands with mr. weldon, shut himself up in his study and set to work, as if finishing a sentence interrupted the day before. he meditated an enormous work on the "hexapodes benedictus," one of the _desiderata_ of entomological science. there, in his study, lined with insects, cousin benedict's first action was to find a microscope and a pair of glasses. great heaven! what a cry of despair he uttered the first time he used them to study the single specimen furnished by the african entomology! the "hexapodes benedictus" was not a hexapode! it was a common spider! and if it had but six legs, instead of eight, it was simply because the two front legs were missing! and if they were missing, these two legs, it was because, in taking it, hercules had, unfortunately, broken them off! now, this mutilation reduced the pretended "hexapodes benedictus" to the condition of an invalid, and placed it in the most ordinary class of spiders--a fact which cousin benedict's near-sightedness had prevented him from discovering sooner. it gave him a fit of sickness, from which, however, he happily recovered. three years after, little jack was eight years old, and dick sand made him repeat his lessons, while working faithfully at his own studies. in fact, hardly was he at home when, realizing how ignorant he was, he had commenced to study with a kind of remorse--like a man who, for want of knowledge, finds himself unequal to his task. "yes," he often repeated; "if, on board of the 'pilgrim,' i had known all that a sailor should know, what misfortunes we would have escaped!" thus spoke dick sand. at the age of eighteen he finished with distinction his hydrographical studies, and, honored with a brevet by special favor, he took command of one of mr. weldon's vessels. see what the little orphan, rescued on the beach at sandy hook, had obtained by his work and conduct. he was, in spite of his youth, surrounded by the esteem, one might say the respect, of all who knew him; but his simplicity and modesty were so natural to him, that he was not aware of it. he did not even suspect--although no one could attribute to him what are called brilliant exploits--that the firmness, courage, and fidelity displayed in so many trials had made of him a sort of hero. meanwhile, one thought oppressed him. in his rare leisure hours he always dreamed of old tom, of bat, of austin, and of acteon, and of the misfortune for which he held himself responsible. it was also a subject of real grief to mrs. weldon, the actual situation of her former companions in misery. mr. weldon, dick sand, and hercules moved heaven and earth to find traces of them. finally they succeeded--thanks to the correspondents which the rich shipowner had in different parts of the world. it was at madagascar--where, however, slavery was soon to be abolished--that tom and his companions had been sold. dick sand wished to consecrate his little savings to ransom them, but mr. weldon would not hear of it. one of his correspondents arranged the affair, and one day, the th of november, , four blacks rang the bell of his house. they were old tom, bat, acteon, and austin. the brave men, after escaping so many dangers, came near being stifled, on that day, by their delighted friends. only poor nan was missing from those whom the "pilgrim" had thrown on the fatal coast of africa. but the old servant could not be recalled to life, and neither could dingo be restored to them. certainly it was miraculous that these two alone had succumbed amid such adventures. it is unnecessary to say that on that occasion they had a festival at the house of the california merchant. the best toast, which all applauded, was that given by mrs. weldon to dick sand, "to the captain at fifteen!" the end. end of the voyage extraordinaire wild adventures round the pole the cruise of the "snowbird" crew in the "arrandoon" by gordon stables published by hodder and stoughton, paternoster row, london. this edition dated . wild adventures round the pole, by gordon stables. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ wild adventures round the pole, by gordon stables. chapter one. the twin rivers--a busy scene--old friends with new faces--the building of the great ship--people's opinions--ralph's highland home. wilder scenery there is in abundance in scotland, but hardly will you find any more picturesquely beautiful than that in which the two great rivers, the clyde and the tweed, first begin their journey seawards. it is a classic land, there is poetry in every breath you breathe, the very air seems redolent of romance. here coleridge, scott, and burns roved. wilson loved it well, and on yonder hills hogg, the bard of ettrick--he who "taught the wandering winds to sing"--fed his flocks. it is a land, too, not only of poetic memories, but one dear to all who can appreciate daring deeds done in a good cause, and who love the name of hero. if the reader saw the rivers we have just named, as they roll their waters majestically into the ocean, the one at greenock, the other near the quaint old town of berwick, he would hardly believe that at the commencement of their course they are so small and narrow that ordinary-sized men can step across them, that bare-legged little boys wade through them, and thrust their arms under their green banks, bringing therefrom many a lusty trout. but so it is. both rise in the same district, within not very many miles of each other, and for a considerable distance they follow the same direction and flow north. but soon the tweed gets very faint-hearted indeed. "the country is getting wilder and wilder," she says to her companion, "we'll never be able to do it. i'm going south and east. it is easier." "and i," says the bold clyde, "am going northwards and west; it is more difficult, and therein lies the enjoyment. i will conquer every obstacle, i'll defy everything that comes against me, and thus i'll be a mightier river than you. i'll water great cities, and on my broad breast i will bear proud navies to the ocean, to do battle against wind and wave. `faint heart never won fair lady.' farewell, friend tweed, farewell." and so they part. this conversation between the two rivers is held fourteen hundred feet above the level of the sea, and five score miles and over have to be traversed before the clyde can reach it. yet, nothing daunted, merrily on she rolls, gaining many an accession of strength on the way from streams and burns. "if you are going seaward," say these burns, "so are we, so we'll take the liberty of joining you." "and right welcome you are," sings the clyde; "in union lies strength." in union lies strength; yes, and in union is happiness too, it would seem, for the clyde, broader and stronger now, glides peacefully and silently onwards; or if not quite silently, it emits but a silvery murmur of content. past green banks and wooded braes, through daisied fields where cattle feed, through lonely moorlands heather-clad, now hidden in forest depths, now out again into the broad light of day, sweeping past villages, cottages, mansions, and castles, homes of serf and feudal lord in times long past and gone, with many a sweep and many a curve it reaches the wildest part of its course. here it must rush, the rapids and go tumbling and roaring over the lynns, with a noise that may be heard for miles on a still night, with an impetuosity that shakes the earth for hundreds of yards on every side. "i wonder how old tweed is getting on?" thinks our brave river as soon as it has cleared the rocks and rapids and pauses for breath. but the clyde will soon be rewarded for its pluck and its daring, before long it will enter and sweep through the second city of the empire, the great metropolis of the west; but ere it does so, forgive it, if it lingers awhile at bothwell, and if it seems sullen and sad as it dashes underneath the ancient bridge where, in days long gone, so fierce a fight took place that five hundred of the brave covenanters lay dead on the field of battle. and pardon it when anon it makes a grand and splendid sweep round bothwell bank, as if loth to leave it. yonder are the ruins of the ancient castle-- "where once proud murray held the festive board. ***** but where are now the festive board, the martial throng, and midnight song? ah! ivy binds the mouldering walls, and ruin reigns in bothwell's halls. o, deep and long have slumbered now the cares that knit the soldier's brow, the lovely grace, the manly power, in gilded hall and lady's bower; the tears that fell from beauty's eye, the broken heart, the bitter sigh, e'en deadly feuds have passed away, still thou art lovely in decay." but see, our river has left both beauty and romance far behind it. it has entered the city--the city of merchant princes, the city of a thousand palaces; it bears itself more steadily now, for hath not queen commerce deigned to welcome it, and entrusted to it the floating wealth of half a nation? the river is in no hurry to leave this fair city. "my noble queen," it seems to say, "i am at your service. i come from the far-off hills to obey your high behests. my ambition is fulfilled, do with me as you will." but soon as the bustle and din of the city are led behind, soon as the grand old hills begin to appear on the right, and glimpses of green on the southern banks, lo! the tide comes up to welcome the noble river; and so the clyde falls silently and imperceptibly into the mighty atlantic. yet scarcely is the lurid and smoky atmosphere that hangs pall-like over the town exchanged for the purer, clearer air beyond, hardly have the waters from the distant mountains begun to mingle with ocean's brine, ere the noise of ten thousand hammers seems to rend the very sky. clang, clang, clang, clang--surely the ancient god vulcan has reappeared, and taken up his abode by the banks of the river. clang, clang, clang. see yonder is the _iona_, churning the water into foam with her swift-revolving paddles. she has over a thousand passengers on board; they are bound for the highlands, bent on pleasure. but this terrible noise and din of hammers--they will have three long miles of it before they can even converse in comfort. clang, clang, clang--it is no music to them. nay, but to many it is. it is music to the merchant prince, for yonder lordly ship, when she is launched from the slips, will sail far over the sea, and bring him back wealth from many a foreign shore. it is music to the naval officer; it tells him his ship is preparing, that ere long she will be ready for sea, that his white flag will be unfurled to the breeze, and that he will walk her decks--her proud commander. and it is music--merry music to the ears of two individuals at least, who are destined to play a very prominent part in this story. they are standing on the quarter-deck of a half-completed ship, while clang, clang, clang, go the hammers outside and inside. the younger of the two--he can be but little over twenty-three--with folded arms, is leaning carelessly against the bulwarks. although there is a thoughtful look upon his handsome face, there is a smile as well, a smile of pleasure. he is taller by many inches than his companion, though by no means better "built," as sailors call it. this companion has a bold, brown, weather-beaten face, the lower half of it buried in a beard that is slightly tinged with grey; his eyes are clear and honest,--eyes that you can tell at a glance would not flinch to meet even death itself. he stands bold, erect, firm. both are dressed well, but there is a marked difference in the style of their attire. the garments of the elder pronounce him at once just what he is,--one who has been "down to the sea in ships." the younger is dressed in the fashionable attire of an english gentleman. to say more were needless. a minute observer, however, might have noticed that there was a slight air of _neglige_ about him, if only in the unbuttoned coat or the faultless hat pushed back off the brow. "and so you tell me," said the younger, "that the work still goes bravely on?" "ay, that it does," said his companion; "there have been rumours of a strike for higher wages among the men of other yards, but none, i am proud to say, in this." "and still," continued the former, "we pay but a fraction of wage more than other people, and then, of course, there is the extra weekly half-holiday." "there is something more, ralph--forgive me if i call you ralph, in memory of dear old times. you will always be a boy to me, and i could no more call you mr leigh than i could fly." ralph grasped his companion by the hand; the action was but momentary, but it showed a deal of kindly feeling. "always call me ralph," he said, "always, mcbain, always. when we are back once more at sea i'll call you captain, not till then. but what is the something more that makes our men so happy?" "why, your kindly manner, ralph boy. you mix with them, you talk with them, and take an interest in all their doings, and you positively seem to know every one of them by name. mind you, that extra half-holiday isn't thrown away: they work all the harder, and they are happy. why, listen to them now." he paused, and held up one hand. from bows to stern of the vessel there arose the sound of industry, incessant, continual; but high over the clang of hammers and the grating noise of saws there arose the voice of song. "they sing, you see," continued mcbain; "but they don't put down their tools to sing. but here comes old ap. what cheer, mr ap ewen?" those of my readers who knew ap as he was two or three years ago--the little stiff figure-head of a fellow--would be surprised to see him now. [_vide_ "cruise of the snowbird." same author and publishers.] he is far more smartly dressed, he is more active looking, and more the man, had taken him in hand. he had caused him to study his trade of boat-builder in a far more scientific fashion, with the result that he was now, as our story opens, foreman over all the men employed on the ship in which ralph leigh stood. indeed, mcbain himself, as well as ap, were good examples of what earnest study can effect. there is hardly anything which either boy or man cannot learn if he applies his mind thereto. "what cheer, mr ap ewen?" said mcbain. "more hands wanted, sir," said ap, pulling out his snuff-box and taking a vigorous pinch. "more hands, ap?" exclaimed mcbain. "ay, sir, ay; look you see," replied ap, "you told me to hurry on, you see, and on monday we shall want to begin the saloon bulkheads." "bravo! ap, bravo! come to my office to-night at seven, and we'll put that all straight." "thank you, sir," said ap, touching his hat and retiring. ralph leigh was owner of the splendid composite steamship that was now fast nearing her completion. she was not being built by contract, but privately, and mcbain was head controller of every department, and for every department he had hired experts to carry on the work. the vessel was designed for special service, and therefore she must be a vessel of purity, a vessel of strength. there must not be a flaw in her, not a patch--all must be solid, all must be good. mcbain had hired experts to examine everything ere it was purchased, but he made use of his own eyes and ears as well. the yard in which the ship was built was rented, and every bit of timber that entered it was tested first, whether it were oak or teak, pine, mahogany, or cedar; and the iron the same, and the bolts of copper and steel, so that captain mcbain's work was really no sinecure. "well, then," said ralph, "i've been over all the ship; i'm extremely pleased with the way things are going on, so if you have nothing more to say to me i'm off. by the way, do the people still flock down on friday afternoons to look over the ship?" "they do," replied mcbain; "and poor old ap, i feel sorry for him. _he_ gets no friday half-holiday; he won't let me stop, but he insists upon remaining himself to show the people round." "and the people enjoy it?" "they do. they marvel at our engines, as well they may. the gear, so simple and strong, that ap and i invented for the shipping and unshipping of the rudder, and the easy method we have for elevating the screw out of the water and reducing the vessel to a sailing ship, they think little short of miraculous. they are astonished, too, at the extraordinary strength of build of the ship. indeed, they are highly complimentary to us in their general admiration. but," continued mcbain, laughing aloud, "it would amuse you to hear the remarks of some of these good, innocent souls. the two -pounder dalgrens are universal favourites. they pat them as if they loved them. one girl last friday said `they just looked for a' the warld like a couple o' big iron soda-water bottles.' they linger in the armoury; old ap shows them our `express' rifles, and our `bone-crushers,' and the hardened and explosive bullets: then he takes them to the harpoon-room and shows them the harpoons, and the guns, and the electric apparatus, and all the other gear. they stare open-mouthed at the balloon-room and the sledge-lockers, but when they come to the door of the torpedo-chamber they simply hurry past with looks of awe. it is currently reported that we are bound for the very north pole itself; i'm not sure we are not going to bring it back home with us. anyhow, they say that as soon as we reach the ice, we are to fill our balloons, attaching one to each mast and funnel, and float away and away over the sea of ancient ice until we reach the pole." ralph laughed right merrily, and next minute he was over the side, with his face set townwards, trudging steadily on to the railway-station. it was only a trifle over three miles; there were cabs to be had in abundance, but what young man would ride if he had time to walk? ralph was going home. not to his fair english home far away in the south, for ever since, in the early spring-time--and now it was autumn-- the keel of the ship--_his_ ship--had been laid, ralph had taken up his abode in a rustic cottage by the banks of a broad-bosomed lake in the highlands of argyll. wild though the country was all around, it was but four miles from the railway, and this journey he used to accomplish twice or oftener every week, on the back of a daft-looking welsh pony that he had bought for the purpose. once on board the train, two hours took him to the city, and thence a brisk walk to the building-yard. he had watched, week after week, the gradual progress of his ship towards completion, with an interest and a joy that were quite boyish. he dearly loved to see the men at work, and listen to their cheerful voices as they laboured. even the smell of the pine or cedar shavings was perfume to ralph, and the way he used to climb about and wander over and through the ship, when she was little more than ribs, knees, and beams, was quite amusing. but he was nevertheless always happy to get back to his highland home, his books, his boat, and his fishing-rod. she was a widow who owned the humble cottage, but she was kind and good, and ralph's rooms, that looked away out over the lake, were always kept in a state of perfect cleanliness. the widow had one little daughter, a sweetly pretty and intelligent child, over whose fair wee head five summers had hardly rolled. jeannie was her name, jeannie morrison, and she was an especial pet of ralph's. she and the collie dog always came gleefully down the road to meet him on his return from the distant city, and you may be perfectly sure he always brought something nice in his pocket for the pair of them. when tired of reading, ralph used to romp with wee jeannie, or take her on his knee and tell her wonderful stories, which made her blue eyes grow bigger and more earnest than ever as she listened. in fact, jeannie and ralph were very fond of each other, indeed, and every time he went to a romantic little island out in the lake to fish, he took jeannie in the stern of the boat, and the time passed doubly quick. "oh, mista walph! mista walph!" cried jeannie, bursting into ralph's room one afternoon, clapping her hands with joy. "mista mcbain is coming; capping mcbain is coming." "yes," said mistress morrison, entering behind her little daughter. "i'm sure you'll be delighted, sir, and so am i, for the captain hasn't been here for a month." then ralph got his hat, and, accompanied by the honest collie and his favourite jeannie, went off down the road to meet mcbain and bid him welcome to his highland home. chapter two. the dinner by the lake--rory's run round africa--the return of the wanderers. "when did you hear from allan and rory?" asked mcbain that day, as they were seated at dinner in the little highland cottage. mrs morrison had done her best to put something nice before them, and not without success either--so thought ralph, and so, too, thought his guest. at all events, both of them did ample justice to that noble lake trout. five pounds did he weigh, if he weighed an ounce, and as red was he in flesh as if he had been fed upon beet. the juicy joint of mountain mutton that followed was fit to grace the table of a prince--it was as fragrant and sweet as the blooming heather tops that had brought it to perfection. nor was the cranberry tart to be despised. the berries of which it was composed had not come over the atlantic in a barrel of questionable flavour--no, they had been culled on the dewy braelands that very morning by the fair young fingers of wee jeannie morrison herself. the widow did not forget to tell them that, and it did not detract from their enjoyment of the tart. for drink they had fragrant heather ale--home-brewed. "when did i hear from allan and rory?" said ralph, repeating mcbain's question; "from the first, not for weeks--he is a lazy boy; from the latter, only yesterday morning." "and what says rory?" asked mcbain. "oh!" replied ralph, "his letter is beautiful. it is twelve pages long. he is loud in his praises of the behaviour of the yacht, as a matter of course; but in no single sentence of this lengthy epistle does he refer definitely to the health or welfare of anybody whatever." "from which you infer--?" "from which i infer," said ralph, "that everybody is as well as rory himself--that my dear father is well, and allan, and his mother, and his sister helen edith. he is a queer boy, rory, and he encloses me a couple of columns from a cape of good hope paper, in which he has written an epitome of the whole voyage, since they first started in may last. he calls his yarn `right round africa.' he commences at suez, a place where even boy rory, i should think, would fail to find much poetry and romance; but they must have enjoyed themselves at alexandria, where rory mounted on top of pompey's pillar, rode upon donkeys, and did all kinds of queer things. well, they spent a week at malta, with its streets of stairs, its bells, its priests, its convents, and its blood-oranges. rory missed trees and shade, though; he says malta is a capital place for lizards, or any animal, human or otherwise, that cares to spend the day basking on the top of a stone. he liked tunis and algiers better, and he quite enjoyed teneriffe and madeira. then they crossed over to sierra leone, and he launches forth in praise of the awful forests--`primeval,' he calls them--and he says, in his own inimitable irish way, that `they are dark, bedad, even in broad daylight.' then all down the strange savage west coast they sailed; they even visited ashantee, but he doesn't say whether or not they called on his sable majesty the king. of course they didn't miss looking in at saint helena, which he designates a paradise in mid-ocean, and not a lonely sea-girt rock, as old books call it. ascension was their next place of resort. that is a rock, if you like, he says; but the sea-birds' eggs and the turtle are redeeming features. and so on to the cape, and up the mozambique, landing here and there at beautiful villages and towns, and in woods where they picked the oysters off the trees." [oysters growing on trees seems a strange paradox. they do so grow, however. the mangrove-trees are washed by the tide, and to their tortuous roots oysters adhere, which may be gathered at low water.] "they really must be enjoying themselves," said mcbain. "that they are," ralph replied, pulling out rory's letter. "just listen how charmingly he writes of the indian ocean--nobody else save our own poetic rory could so write:--`my dear, honest, unsophisticated ralph,-- oh, you ought to have been with us as we rounded the cape! that thunderstorm by night would have made even your somewhat torpid blood tingle in your veins. it was night, my ralph; what little wind there was was dead off the iron-bound coast, but the billows were mountains high. yes, this is no figure of speech. i have never seen such waves before, and mayhap never will again. i have never seen such lightning, and never heard such thunder. we remained all night on deck; no one had the slightest wish to go below. as i write our yacht is bounding over a blue and rippling sea; the low, wooded shore on our lee is sleeping in the warm sunlight, and everything around us breathes peace and quiet, and yet i have but to clap my hand across my eyes, and once again the whole scene rises up before me. i see the lightning quivering on the dark waves, and flashing incessantly around us, with intervals of the blackest darkness. i see the good yacht clinging by the bows to the crest of the waves, or plunging arrowlike into the watery ravines; i see the wet and slippery decks and cordage, and the awe-struck men around the bulwarks; and i see the faces of my friends as i saw them then-- allan's knitted brow, his mother's looks of terror, and the pale features of poor helen edith. there are nights, ralph, in the life of a sailor that he is but little likely ever to forget; that was one in mine that will cling to my memory till i cease to breathe.' "don't you call that graphic?" said ralph. "i do," replied mcbain; "give us one other extract, and then lend me the letter. i'll take it to town with me, and you can have it again when you come up." "well," said ralph, "he describes delagoa bay and the scenery all round it so pleasantly, that if i hadn't an estate of my own in old england i would run off and take a farm there; right quaintly he talks of the curious portuguese city of mozambique; he is loud in the praises of the comoro islands, especially of johanna, with its groves of citrons and limes, its feathery palm-trees, and its lofty mountains, tree-clad to the very summits; and he could write a lordly volume, he says, on the sultanic city of zanzibar, where, it would seem, his adventures were not like angels' visits--few and far between. he has even fought with the wild somali indians, and assisted at a pitched battle between arabs and a british cruiser. then he describes his adventures in the woods and in the far-off hills and jungles, tiger-slaying; here is a serpent adventure; here is a butterfly hunt. fancy butterflies as big as a lady's fan, and of plumage--yes, that is the very word rory makes use of--`plumage' more bright than a noonday rainbow. "here again is a description of the great johanna hornet, two inches long, blue-black in colour, and so dreaded by the natives that they will not approach within twenty yards of the tree these terrible insects inhabit. here is a beetle as big as a fish, and as strong apparently as a man, for he seizes hold of the top of the big pickle-jar into which rory wants to introduce him, and obstinately refuses to be drowned in spirits; and here is a centipede as long as an adder, green, transparent, deadly; tarantulas as big as frogs, hairy and horrible; scorpions as big as crabs, green and dangerous as the centipedes themselves, that run from you, it is true, but threaten you as they run. "it is pleasant," continued ralph, "to turn from his descriptions of the awful african creepie-creepies, and read of the enchanting beauty of some parts of the zanzibar woods, the mighty trees mango-laden, the patches of tempting pine-apples, through which one can hardly wade, the curious breadfruit-trees, the pomolos, the citrons, the oranges, and the guavas, that look and taste, says rory, `like strawberries smothered in cream.' he dilates, too, on the beauty of the wild flowers, and the brilliancy of the birds--birds that never sing, but flit sadly and silently from bough to bough in the golden sunlight. from the very centre of this beautiful wood rory, with masterly pen, carries you right away to a lovely coral island in the indian ocean. "`although many, many miles in extent,' he tells us, `although it is clothed in waving woods, although even the cocoa-nut palm waves high aloft its luscious fruit, it is not inhabited by man. perhaps my boat was the first that ever rasped upon its shore of silvery sand, perhaps i was the first human being that ever lay under the shade of its mangrove-trees or bathed in the waters of its sunny lagune. my boat is a skiff--a tiny skiff; our yacht lies at anchor off chak-chak, and i have come all alone to visit this fairy-like island. i left the ship while the stars were still glittering in the heavens, long before the sun leapt up and turned the waters into blood; and now i have rested, bathed, and breakfasted, and am once more on board my indolent skiff. here in this bay, even half a mile from the shore, you can see the bottom distinct and clear, for the water is as pellucid as crystal, and there isn't a ripple on the sea. and what do i gaze upon?--a submarine garden; and i gaze upon it like one enchanted, the while my boat-- impelled by the tide alone--glides slowly on and over it. down yonder are flowers of every shape and hue, shrubs of every variety of foliage, coral bushes--pink, and white, and even black--rocks covered with medusae of the most brilliant colours an artist could imagine, and patches of white sand, strewn with living shells, each one more lovely to look upon than another. and every bush and shrub and flower is all a-quiver with a strange, indescribable motion, which greatly heightens their magical beauty; and why? because every bush and shrub and flower is composed of a thousand living things. but the larger creatures that creep and crawl, or glide through this submarine garden are fantastic in the extreme. monster crabs and crayfish, horny, abhorrent, and so strange in shape one cannot help thinking they were made to frighten each other; long transparent fishes, partly grayling partly eel; flat fishes that swim in all kinds of ridiculous ways; some fishes that seem all tail together, and others that are nothing but head. and among all the others a curious flat fish that swims on an even keel, and, by the very brilliancy of his colours and gorgeous array, seems to quite take the shine out of all the others. both sides of this fish are painted alike; both sides of him are divided into five or six equal parts, and each part is of a different colour--one is a marigold yellow, another green, another brightest crimson, another steel grey, and so on. him i dubbed the harlequin flounder. yes, ralph, shakespeare was right when he said there are more things in heaven and earth than we dream of in our philosophy, and he might have added there are more things in ocean's depths, and stranger things, than any naturalist ever could imagine.' "you see," said ralph, folding rory's funny letter, and handing it to mcbain, "that our friends are enjoying themselves; but you won't fail to notice rory's closing sentence, in which he says that, in the very midst of all the brightness and beauty so lavishly spread around him, he is ofttimes longing to visit once more the strange, mysterious regions around the pole." "and you have never written a word to him about our new ship and our purposed voyage?" inquired mcbain. "never a word," cried ralph, laughing. "you see, i want to keep that a secret till the very last. oh, fancy, mcbain, how wild with glee both rory and allan will be when they find that the splendid ship is built and ready, and that we but wait for the return of spring to carry us once more away to the far north again." "i'd like to see rory's face," said mcbain, smiling, "when you break the news to him." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ just six weeks after this quiet little _tete-a-tete_ dinner on the bank of the highland lake, a very important-looking and fussy little tug-boat come puff-puffing up the clyde from seaward, towing in a large and pretty yacht; her sails were clewed, and her yards squared, and everything looked trig and trim, not only about her, but on board of her. the blue ensign floated proudly from her staff; her crew were dressed in true yachting rig, and her decks were white as the driven snow. an elderly lady with snow-white hair paced slowly up and down the quarter-deck, leaning lightly on the arm of a tall and gentlemanly man of mature age. in a lounge chair right aft, and abreast of the binnacle, a fair young girl was reclining, book in lap, but not reading; she was engaged in pleasant conversation with a youth who sat on a camp-stool not far off, while another who leant upon the taffrail gazing shorewards frequently turned towards them, to put in his oar with a word or two. he was taller than the former and apparently a year or two older. he was probably more manly in appearance and build, but certainly not better-looking. both were tanned with the tropical sun, and both were dressed alike in a kind of sailor uniform of navy blue. "yes, rory," the girl was saying, "i must confess that i do feel glad to get back again to scotland, much though i have enjoyed our cruise and all our strange adventures around that wild and beautiful coast. oh! i do not wonder at your being fond of the sea. if i were a man i feel sure i would be a sailor." "and here we are," replied rory, with pleasure beaming from his bright, laughing eyes, "within three miles of glasgow. and, you know, ralph is here; how delighted he will be to meet us all again! i really wonder he did not come with us." but ralph was very much nearer to them at that moment than they had any idea of. "helen edith," cried allan at that moment, "and you, rory, do come and have a look at this beautiful steam barque on the stocks." both helen and rory were by his side in a moment. "she is a beauty indeed," said rory, enthusiastically. "there are lines for you! there is shape! fancy that craft in the water! look at the beautiful rake that even her funnel has! but is she a man-o'-war, i wonder?" "more like a despatch boat, i should say," said allan. "look, she is pierced for guns." allan was right about the guns, for just as he spoke a balloon-shaped cloud of white smoke rose slowly up from her side, and almost simultaneously the roar of a big gun came over the water and died away in a hundred echoes among the rocks and hills. another and another followed in slow and measured succession, until they had counted fourteen. "it is saluting they are," said allan; "but they surely cannot be saluting us; and yet there is no other craft of any consequence coming up the water." "but i feel sure," said helen, "it is some one bidding us welcome. and see, they dip the flag." the yacht's flag was now dipped in return, but still the mystery remained unravelled. but it does not remain so long. for see, the yacht is now almost abreast of the new ship, and the decks of the latter are crowded with wildly cheering men. ay, and yonder, beside the flagstaff, is ralph himself, with mcbain by his side, waving their hats in the air. the good people on the yacht are for a minute rendered dumb with astonishment, but only for a minute; then the air is rent with their shouts as they give back cheer for cheer. "och! deed in troth," cried rory, losing all control of his english accent, "it's myself that is bothered entoirely. is it my head or my heels that i'm standing on? for never a morsel of me knows! is it dreaming i am? allan, boy, can't you tell me? just look at the name on the stern of the beautiful craft." allan himself was dumb with astonishment to behold, in broad letters of gold the words, "the arrandoon." chapter three. retrospection--ralph's home in england--a hearty if not poetic welcome. many of my readers have met with the heroes of this tale before [in the "cruise of the snowbird," by the same author and publishers], but doubtless some have not; and as it is always well to know at least a little of the _dramatis personae_ of a story beforehand, the many must in the present instance give place to the few. they must either, therefore, listen politely to a little epitomised repetition, or sit quietly aside with their fingers in their ears for the space of five minutes. but, levity apart, i shall be as brief as brevity itself. which of our heroes shall we start with first? allan? yes, simply because his initial letter stands first on the alphabetic list. allan mcgregor is a worthy scot. we met him for the first time several years prior to the date of this tale; met him in the company of his foster-father, met him in a wildly picturesque highland glen, called glentruim, at the castle of arrandoon. it was midwinter; the young man's southern friends, ralph leigh and rory elphinston, were coming to see him and live with him for a time, and right welcomely were they received, all the more in that they had narrowly escaped losing their lives in the snow. allan was--and so remains--the chieftain of his clan, his father having died years before, sword in hand, on a bloodstained redoubt in india, leaving to his only son's care an encumbered estate, a mother and one daughter, edith, or helen edith. the young chief was poor and proud, but he dearly loved his widowed mother, his beautiful sister, the romantic old castle, and the glen that had reared him from his boyhood; and how he wished and longed to be able to better the position of the former and the condition of the latter, none but he could tell or say. allan was brave--his clan is proverbially so; his soul was deeply imbued with the spirit of religion, and, it must be added, just slightly tinged with superstition--a superstition born of the mountain mists and the stern, romantic scenery, where he had lived for the greater part of his lifetime. ralph leigh was the son of a once wealthy baronet, and had just finished his education. rory elphinston was an orphan, who owned estates in the west of ireland, from which property, however, he seldom realised the rents. like ralph, rory was fond of adventure, and ready and willing to do anything honest and worthy to earn that needful dross called gold; and when, one evening, mcbain hinted at the wealth that lay ungathered in the inhospitable lands around the pole, and of the many wild adventures to be met with in those regions, the relation fired the youthful blood of the trio. the boys clubbed together, as most boys might, and bought a small yacht. small as she was, however, in her, under the able tuition of mcbain, they were taught seamanship and discipline, and they became enamoured of the sea and longed to possess a larger ship, in which they might go in quest of adventures in far-off foreign lands. now ralph's father, poor though he was, was very fond--and perhaps even a little proud--of his son; he would, therefore, not refuse him anything in reason he could afford. he rejoiced to see him happy. the good yacht _snowbird_ was therefore bought, and in it our brave boys sailed away to the far north. the narrative of their adventures by sea and land is duly recorded in "the cruise of the snowbird." you may seek for them there if you wish to read of them; if not, there is little harm done. the _snowbird_ returned at last, if not really rich, yet with what sailors call an excellent general cargo, quite sufficient for each of them to realise a tolerably large sum of money from. every shilling of his share allan had expended in improving the glen, with its cottages and sheep farms, and the dear old castle itself. but, meanwhile, ralph had fallen into a large fortune, and found himself possessed of rich estates, and a splendid old mansion in --shire, england. he might have married now, and settled quietly down for life as a country squire, enjoying to the full all the pleasures and luxuries that health combined with wealth are capable of bringing to their possessors. ah! but then the spirit of the rover had entered into him; he had learned to love adventure for the sake of itself, and to love a life on the ocean wave. loving a life on the ocean wave, he might, had he so chosen, have had a very pleasant cruise with his friends, had he gone with them in their run round africa, alluded to in the last chapter of this tale; but, as would be gleaned from the conversation recorded therein, he did not so choose. he and mcbain had their little secret, which they kept well. they were determined to turn explorers, so ralph built a ship, built a noble ship--built it without acquainting any one what service it was intended for, and even his dear friends ralph and rory were to know nothing about her until they, returned from their cruise in the tropics. ralph meant it all as a kindly and a glad surprise to them, for well did he know how their hearts would bound with joy at the very thoughts of sailing once more in quest of adventures. nor, as the sequel will show, was he in one whit disappointed. in character, disposition, and appearance my four principal heroes may be thus summed up--i have already told you about allan's:-- mcbain--captain mcbain--was a hardy, fear-nothing, daring man, his mind imbued with a sense of duty and with piety, both of which he had learned at the maternal knee. ralph was a young englishman in every sense of the word--tall, broad, shapely, somewhat slow in action, with difficulty aroused, but a very lion when he did march out of his den intent on a purpose. somewhat more youthful was rory, smaller as to person, poetic as to temperament, fond of the beautiful, an artist and a musician. and if you were to ask me, "was he, too, brave?" i should answer, "are not poets and irishmen always brave? does not sir walter scott tell us that they laugh in their ranks as they go forward to battle--that they-- "move to death with military glee?" sir walter, i may also remind those who live in the land o' cakes, says in the same poem: "but ne'er in battlefield throbbed heart more brave than that which beats beneath the scottish plaid." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ so now we are back again at the place where we left off in the last chapter, with the yacht being towed slowly past good ralph's ship on the stocks, and lusty cheers being exchanged from one vessel to the other. rory and allan exchanged glances. the faces of each were at that moment a study for a physiognomist, but the uppermost feeling visible in either was one of astonishment--not blank astonishment, mind you, for there was something in the eyes of each, and in the smile that flickered round their lips, that would have told you in a moment that ralph's nicely-kept secret was a secret no more. rory, as usual with natives of green erin, was the first to break the silence. "depend upon it," he said, nodding his head mirthfully, "it is all some mighty fine joke of ralph's, and he means giving us a pleasant surprise." "the same thought struck me," replied allan, "as soon as i clapped eyes on the word `_arrandoon_.'" "oh?" chimed in helen edith, with her sweet, musical voice; "that is the reason your friend would not come with us on our delightful voyage." "that _was_ the reason," said allan, emphatically, "because he was building a ship of his own, the sly dog." "but wherever do you think he means cruising to at all, at all?" added rory, with puzzled face. "that's what i should like to know," said allan. and this thought occupied their minds all the way up to glasgow; but once there, and the ladies seen safely to their hotels, rory and allan sped off without delay to visit this big, mysterious yacht; and they had not been half an hour on board ere, as rory expressed it, in language more forcible than elegant. "the secret was out entirely, the cat flew out of the bag, and every drop of milk got out of the cocoa-nut." poor ralph was delighted at the return of his friends from their long cruise; and now that he had their company he had no longer any wish or desire to remain in the vicinity of the _arrandoon_; so giving up his pretty highland cottage, bidding a kindly adieu to the widow, kissing wee weeping jeannie, and promising to be sure to return some day, the trio hurried them southwards, to spend most of their time at ralph's pleasant home, until the ship should be ready to launch. leigh hall was a lordly mansion, possessing no very great pretensions to architectural splendour, but beautifully situated among its woods and parks on a high braeland that overlooked one of england's fairest lakes. for miles you approached the house from behind by a road which, with many a devious turning, wound through a rich but rolling country. past many a rural hamlet; past many a picturesque cottage, their gables and fronts charmingly painted and tinted by the hands of the magic artist time; past stately farms, where sleek cattle seemed to low kindly welcome to our heroes as their carriage came rolling onwards, with here a wood and there a field, and yonder a great stretch of common where cows waded shoulder deep in ferns and furze, daintily cropping the green and tender tops of the trailing bramble; and here a broad, rushy moor, on which flocks of snowy geese wandered. alluding to the latter, says rory, "don't these geese come out prettily against the patches of green grass, and how soft and easy it must be for the feet of them!" "they're preparing for christmas," said ralph. poet rory gave him a look--one of rory's looks. "there's never a bit of poetry nor romance in the soul of you," he said. "except the romance and poetry of a well-spread table," said allan, laughing. "and, 'deed, indeed," replied rory, "there is little to choose betwixt the pair of you; so what can i do but be sorry for you both?" it was on a beautiful autumn afternoon that the three young men were now approaching the manor of leigh. the trees that had been once of a tender green, whose leaves in the gentle breath of spring had rustled with a kind of silken _frou-frou_, were green now only when the sun shone upon them; all the rest was black by contrast. feathery seedlings floated here and there on the breeze that blew from the north. this breeze went rushing through the woods with a sound that made rory, at all events, think of waves breaking in mid-ocean, and even the fields of ripe and waving grain had, to his mind, a strange resemblance to the sea. the rooks that floated high in air seemed to glory in the wind, for they screamed with delight, baffled though at times they were--taken aback you might say, and hurled yards out of their course. it was only a plain farmer's autumn wind after all, but it made these youthful sailors think of something else than baffled, rooks and fields of ripening grain. now up through a dark oak copse, and they come all at once to one of the old park gates. grey is it with very age, and so is the quaintly-gabled lodge; its stones are crumbling to pieces. and well suited for such a dwelling is the bent but kindly-faced old crone who totters out on her staff to open the ponderous gates. she nods and smiles a welcome, to which bows and smiles are returned, and the carriage rolls on. a great square old house; they come to it at last, so big and square that it did not even look tall at a distance. they drove up to what really appeared the back of this mansion, with its stairs and pillars and verandahs, the door opening from which led into the hall proper, which ran straight through the manor, and opened by other doors on to broad green terraces, with ribbon gardens and fountains, and then the braelike park, with its ancient trees, and so on, downwards to the beautiful lake, with the hills beyond. right respectfully and loyally was ralph greeted by his servants and retainers. all this may be imagined better than i can describe it. while rory was marching through the long line of servants i believe he felt just a little awed; and if, as soon as they found themselves alone, ralph had addressed himself to his guests in some such speech as follows, he would not have been very much astonished. if ralph had said, "welcome, ronald elphinston, and you, my lord of arrandoon, to the ancient home of the leighs!" rory would have thought it quite in keeping with the poetry of the place. ralph did nothing of the kind, however; he pitched his hat and gloves rather unceremoniously on a chair, and said, all in one breath and one tone of voice, "now, boys, here we are at last; i'm sure you'll make yourselves at home. we'll have fine times for a few weeks, anyhow. would you like to wash your hands?" well, if it was not a very poetic welcome, it was a very hearty one nevertheless. chapter four. life at leigh hall--the launch of the "arrandoon"--trial trips--a row and a fight--"freezing powders." as the owner of a large house, the head of a county family, and a landed proprietor, there were many duties devolved upon ralph leigh when at home, from which he never for a moment thought of shrinking. though a great part of the day was spent in shooting, rowing, or fishing, the mornings were never his own, nor the evenings either. he had a knack of giving nice dinners, and young though he was, he also possessed the happy knack of making all his guests feel perfectly at home, so that when carriages drew round, and it was time to start for their various homes, everybody was astonished at the speed with which the evening had sped away; and that was proof positive it had passed most pleasantly. they kept early hours at leigh hall, and so they did at every house all over the quiet, romantic country, and no doubt they were all the better for it, and all the more healthy. but our heroes must be forgiven, if, after the last guest had gone, after the lights were out in the banqueting hall, and the doors closed for the night, they assembled in a cosy, fire-brightened room upstairs, all by their three selves, for a quiet confab and talk, a little exchange of ideas, a little conversation about the days o' auld lang syne, and their hopes of adventures in the far north, whither they were so soon to sail. about once a fortnight, mcbain, whom we may as well call captain mcbain now--captain mcbain, of the steam yacht _arrandoon_--used to run down to leigh hall to report progress; the "social hour," as rory called it, was then doubly dear to them all, and i'm not at all sure that they did not upon these occasions steal half an hour at least from midnight. you see they were very happy; they were happy with the happiness of anticipation. they never dreamt of failure in the expedition on which they were about to embark. "in the lexicon of youth, which fate reserves for a great manhood, there is no such word as--fail." true, but had they known the dangers they were to encounter, the trials they would have to come through, brave as they undoubtedly were, their hearts might have throbbed less joyfully. they had, however, the most perfect confidence in each other, just as brothers might have. the friendship, begun long ago between them, cemented, during the cruise of the _snowbird_, in many an hour of difficulty and danger--for had they not come through fire and death together?--was strengthened during their residence at leigh hall. indeed, it would not be too much to say that their affection for each other was brotherly to a degree. dissimilar in character in many ways they were, but this same dissimilarity seemed but to increase their mutual regard and esteem. faults each one of them had--who on this earth has not?--and each could see those of the other, if he did not always notice his own. says burns-- "o would some power the giftie gie us, to see ourselves as others see us, it would from mony a fautie free us." probably, individually they did not forget these lines, and so the one was most careful in guarding against anything that might hurt the feelings of the others. is not this true friendship? but as to what is called "chaff," they had all learned long ago to be proof against that--i'm not sure they did not even like it; rory did, i know; he said so one day; and on allan asking him his reason, "my reason is it?" says rory; "sure enough, boys, chaffing metres with laughing; where you find the chaff you find the laugh, and laughing is better to a man than cod-liver oil. and that's my reason!" and rory's romantic sayings and doings were oftentimes the subject of a considerable deal of chaff and fun; so, too, was what the young irishman was pleased to call ralph's english "stolidity" and allan's scottish fire and intensity of patriotism; but never did the blood of one of our boys get hot, never did their lips tighten in anger or their cheeks pale with vexation. just on one occasion--which i now record lest i forget it--was boy rory, as he was still affectionately called, very nearly losing his temper under a rattling fire of chaff from allan and ralph, who were in extra good spirits. it happened months after they had sailed in the _arrandoon_. all at once that day rory grew suddenly quiet, and the smile that still remained on his face was only round the lips, and didn't ripple round the eyes. it was a sad kind of a smile; then he jumped up and ran away from the table. "we've offended him," said allan, looking quite serious. "i hope not," said ralph, growing serious in turn. "i'll go and look him up;" this from allan. "no, that you won't!" put in mcbain. "leave boy rory alone; he'll come to presently." meanwhile, ridiculous as it may seem, rory had sped away forward to the dispensary, where he found the doctor. "doctor, dear," cried rory, "give me a blue pill at once--a couple of them, if you like, for sure it isn't well i am!" "oh!" said the surgeon, "liver a bit out of order, eh?" "liver!" cried rory; "i know by the nasty temper that's on me that there isn't a bit of liver left in me worth mentioning! there now, give me the pills." the doctor laughed, but rory had his bolus; then he came aft again, smiling, confessing to his comrades what a ninny he had very nearly been making of himself. just like rory! the bearing of our young heroes towards captain mcbain was invariably respectful and affectionate; they both loved and admired him, and, indeed, he was worthy of all their esteem. in wealth there is power, but in wisdom worth, and ralph, rory, and allan felt this truth if they never expressed it. mcbain had really raised himself to the position he now held; he was a living proof that-- "whate'er a man dares he can do." i will not deny, however that mcbain possessed a little genius to begin with; but here is old ap, once but a poor boat-builder, with never a spark of genius in him, superintending the construction of a noble ship. in him we have an example of industry and perseverance pure and simple. the _arrandoon_ made speedy progress on the stocks, and the anxious day was near at hand when she would leave her native timbers, and slide gracefully and auspiciously it was to be hoped, into the smooth waters of the clyde. that day came at last, and with it came thousands to view the launch. with it came mrs mcgregor and allan's sister; and the latter was to break the tiny phial of wine and name the ship! on the platform beneath, and closely adjoining the bows of the _arrandoon_, were numerous gentlemen and ladies; conspicuous among the former was rory. he was full of earnest and pleasant excitement. conspicuous among the latter was helen edith. she certainly never looked more lovely than she did now. the ceremony she was about to engage in, in which, indeed, she was chief actress, was just a trifle too much for her delicate nerves, and as she stood, bouquet in hand, with a slight flush on her cheek and a sparkle in her eye, with head slightly bent, she looked like a bride at the altar. rory stood near her; perhaps his vicinity comforted her, as did his remarks, to which, however, he met with but little response. i am beginning to think that rory loved this sweet child; if he did it was a love that was purely platonic, and it needed be none the less sincere for all that. as for helen edith--but hark! a gun rings out from the deck of the _arrandoon_ causing every window in the vicinity to rattle again, and the steeples to nod. the gallant ship moves off down the slip slowly--slowly--slowly, yes, slowly but steadily, swerving neither to starboard nor larboard, quicker now faster still. will she float? our heroes' hearts stand still. mcbain is pale and breathes not. she slows, she almost stops, now she is over the hitch and on again, on--on--and on--and into the water. hurrah! you should have heard that cheer, and rory shakes hands with helen edith, and compliments her, and positively there are tears in the foolish boy's eyes. there was a deal of hand-shaking, i can assure you, after the launch, and a deal of joy expressed, and if the truth be told, more than one prayer breathed for the future safety of the _arrandoon_ and her gallant crew. there was lunch after launch in the saloon of the new yacht, at which allan's mother presided with the same quiet dignity she was wont to maintain at the castle that gave the ship its name. mcbain made a speech, and a good one, too, after ralph had spoken a few words. poor ralph! speaking was certainly not his strong point. but there was no hesitancy about mcbain, and no nervousness either, and during its delivery he stood bolt upright in his place, as straight as an arrow, and his words were manly and straightforward. allan felt proud of his foster-father. but rory came next. for once in his life he hadn't the slightest intention of making anybody laugh. but because he tried not to, he did; and when irish bull after irish bull came rattling out, "och!" thinks rory to himself, "seriousness isn't my forte after all;" then he simply gave himself rein, and expressed himself so comically that there was not a dry eye in the room, for tears come with laughing as well as weeping. there was a deal to be done to the _arrandoon_--in her, on her, and around her--after she was launched, before she was ready; but it would serve no good purpose and only waste time to describe her completion, for we long to be "steam up" and away to sea _en route_ for the starry north. she was a gallant sight, the _arrandoon_, as she stood away out to sea, past the rocky shores of bute, bound south on her trial trip by the measured mile. fifteen hundred tons burden was she, with tall and tapering masts: lower, main, topgallant, and royal; not one higher; no star-gazers, sky-scrapers, or moon-rakers; she wouldn't have to rake much for the wind in the stormy seas they were going to. then there was the funnel, such a funnel as a man with an eye in his head likes to see, not a mere pipe of a thing, but a great wide armful of a funnel, with the tiniest bit of rake on it; so too had the masts, though the _arrandoon_ did not look half so saucy as the _snowbird_. the _arrandoon_ had more solidity about her, and more soberness and staidness, as became her--a ship about to be pitted against dangers unknown. her figure-head was the bust of a fair and beautiful girl. that day, on her trial trip, the ladies were on board; and rory made this remark to helen edith: "the fair image on our bows, helen, will soon be gazing wistfully north." "ah! you seem to long for that," said helen, "but," she added archly, "mamma and i look forward to the time when she will be gazing just as wistfully south again." rory laughed, and the conversation assumed a livelier tone. steamers, i always think, are very similar in one way to colts, they require a certain amount of breaking in, they seldom do well on their trial trip. the _arrandoon_ was no exception; she promised well at first, and fulfilled that promise for twenty good miles and two; then she intimated to the engineers in charge that she had had enough of it. well, this was a good opportunity of trying her sailing qualities, and in these she exceeded all expectations. mcbain rubbed his hands with delight, for no yacht at cowes ever sailed more close to the wind, came round on shorter length, or made more knots an hour. he promised himself a treat, and that treat was to run out some day with her in half a gale of wind, when there were no ladies on board. he would then see what the _arrandoon_ could do under sail, and what she couldn't. he did this; and the very next day after he came back he made the journey to leigh hall, and stopped there for a whole week. that was proof enough that the captain was pleased with his ship. early in the month of the succeeding february, the _arrandoon_ lay at the broomielaw, with the blue-peter unfurled, steam up, all hands on board, and even the pilot. that very morning they were to begin their adventurous voyage. ralph, allan, and rory would be picked up at oban, and the vessel now only awaited the arrival of mcbain before casting off and dropping down stream. the broomielaw didn't look pretty that morning, nor very comfortable. although the hills all around glasgow were white with snow, over the city itself hung the smoke like a murky pall. there was mud under feet, and a scotch mist held possession of the air. here was nothing cheering to look at, slop-shops and pawn-shops, and jack-frequented dram-shops, bales of wet merchandise on the quay, and eave-dripping dock-houses; nor were the people pleasant to be among; the only human beings that did seem to enjoy themselves were the ragged urchins who had taken shelter in the empty barrels that lined the back of the warehouses; they had shelter, and sugar to eat. mcbain thought he wouldn't be sorry when he was safely round the mull of cantyre. "come on, jack," cried one of these tiny gutter-snipes, rushing out of his tub; "come on, here's a row." there was a row; apparently a fight was going on, for a ring had formed a little way down the street; and simply out of curiosity mcbain went to have a peep over the shoulders of the mob. as usual, the policemen were very busy in some other part of the street. only a poor little itinerant nigger boy lying on the ground, being savagely kicked by a burly and half-drunken street porter. "oh!" the little fellow was shrieking; "what for you kickee my shins so? oh!" mcbain entered the ring in a very businesslike fashion indeed; he begged for room; he told the mob he meant thrashing the ruffian if he did not apologise to the poor lad. then he intimated as much to the ruffian himself. "come on," was the defiant reply, as the fellow threw himself into a fighting attitude. "man, your mither'll no ken ye when you gang home the nicht." "we'll see," said mcbain, quietly. for the next three minutes this ruffianly porter's movements were confined to a series of beautiful falls, that would have brought down the house in a circus. when he rose the last time it was merely to assume a sitting position, "gie us your hand," he said to mcbain. "you're the first chiel that ever dang jock the wraggler. i admire ye, man--i admire ye." "come with me, my little fellow," said mcbain to the nigger boy; and he took him kindly by the hand. meanwhile a woman who had been standing by placed a curious-looking bundle in the lad's hand, and bade him be a good boy, and keep out of jock the wraggler's way next time. "i'll see you a little way home, jim," continued mcbain, when they were clear of the crowd. "jim is what they call you, isn't it?" "jim," said the blackamoor, "is what dey are good enough to call me. but, sah, jim has no home." "and where do you sleep at night, jim?" "anywhere, sah. jim ain't pertikler; some time it is a sugar barrel, an oder time a door-step." a low, sneering laugh was at this moment heard from the mysterious bundle jim carried. mcbain started. "don't be afeared, sah," said jim; "it's only de cockatoo, sah!" "have you any money, jim?" asked mcbain. "only de cockatoo, sah," replied jim; "but la!" he added, "i'se a puffuk gemlam (gentleman), sah--i'se got a heart as high as de steeple, sah!" "well, jim," said mcbain, laughing, "would you like to sail in a big ship with me, and--and--black my boots?" "golly! yes, sah; dat would suit jim all to nuffin." "but suppose, jim, we went far away--as far as the north pole?" "don't care, sah," said jim, emphatically; "der never was a pole yet as jim couldn't climb." "have you a surname, jim?" "no, sah," replied poor jim; "i'se got no belongings but de cockatoo." "i mean, jim, have you a second name?" "la! no, sir," said jim; "one name plenty good enough for a nigga boy. only--yes now i 'members, in de ship dat bring me from sierra leone last summer de cap'n never call me nuffin else but freezin' powders." mcbain did not take long to make up his mind about anything; he determined to take this strange boy with him, so he took him to a shop and bought him a cage for the cockatoo, and then the two marched on board together, talking away as if they had known each other for years. freezing powders was sent below to be washed and dressed and made decent. the ship was passing inellan when he came on deck again. jim was thunderstruck; he had never seen snow before. "la! sah," he cried, pointing with outstretched arm towards the hills; "look, sah, look; dey never like dat before. de great massa has been and painted dem all white." chapter five. danger on the deep--a forest of waterspouts--the "arrandoon" is swamped--the warning. "la la lay lee-ah, lay la le lo-o" so went the song on deck--a song without words, short, and interrupted at every bar, as the men hauled cheerily on tack and sheet. such a thing would not be allowed for a single moment on board a british man-o'-war, as the watch singing while they obeyed the orders of the bo'sun's pipe, taking in sail, squaring yards, or doing any other duty required of them. and yet, with all due respect for my own flag, methinks there are times when, as practised in merchant or passenger ships, that strange, weird, wordless song is not at all an unpleasant sound to listen to. by night, for instance, after you have turned in to your little narrow bed--the cradle of the deep, in which you are nightly rocked--to hear it rising and falling, and ending in long-drawn cadence, gives one an indescribable feeling of peace and security. your bark is all alone--so your thoughts may run--on a wild world of waters. there may not be another ship within hundreds of miles; the wind may be rising or the wind may be falling--what do you care? what need you care? there are watchful eyes on deck, there are good men and true overhead, and they seem to sing your cradle hymn, "la la lee ah," and before it is done you are wrapt in that sweetest, that dreamless slumber that landsmen seldom know. there was one man at least in every watch on board the _arrandoon_, who usually led the song that accompanied the hauling on a rope, with a sweet, clear tenor voice; you could not have been angry with these men had you been twenty times a man-o'-war's man. it was about an hour after breakfast, and our boys were lazing below. for some time previous to the working song, there had been perfect silence on board--a silence broken only now and then by a short word of command, a footstep on deck, or the ominous flapping of the canvas aloft, as it shivered for a moment, then filled and swelled out again. had you been down below, one sign alone would have told you that something was going to happen--that some change was about to take place. it was this: when everything is going on all right, you hear the almost constant tramp, tramp of the officer of the watch up and down the quarter-deck, but this was absent now, and you would have known without seeing him that he was standing, probably, by the binnacle, his eyes now bent aloft, and now sweeping the horizon, and now and then glancing at the compass. then came a word or two of command, given in a quiet, ordinary tone of voice--there was no occasion to howl on this particular morning. and after this a rush of feet, and next the song, and the bo'sun's pipe. thus:-- _song_.--"la la lee ah, lay la le lo-o." _spoken_.--"hoy!" _boatswain's pipe_.--"whee-e, weet weet weet, wee-e." _song_.--"la la lee ah, lay la le lo-o." _spoken_.--"belay!" _boatswain's pipe_.--"wee wee weet weet weet weet, wee-e." _spoken_.--"now lads." _song_.--"lo ah o ee." _pipe_.--"weet weet!" then a hurry-scurrying away forward, a trampling of feet enough to awaken rip van winkle, then the bo'sun's pipe _encore_. allan straightens his back in his easy-chair--he has been bending over the table, reading the "noctes ambrosianae"--straightens his back, stretches his arms, and says "heigho!" rory is busy arranging some beautiful transparent specimens of animalculae, not bigger than midges, on a piece of black cardboard; he had caught them overnight in a gauze net dragged astern. he doesn't look up. ralph is lying "tandem" on a sofa, reading "ivanhoe." he won't take his eyes off the book, nor move as much as one drowsy eyelid, but he manages to say,-- "what are they about on deck, rory?" "don't know even a tiny bit," says rory. "rory," continues ralph, in a slightly louder key; "you're a young man; run up and see." "rory won't then," says rory, intent on his work; "fag for yourself, my lazy boy." "oh!" says ralph, "won't you have your ears pulled when i do get up!" "ha! ha!" laughed rory, "you'll have forgotten all about it long before then." "freezing powders!" roared ralph. the bright-faced though bullet-headed nigger boy introduced in last chapter appeared instantly. he was dressed in white flannel, braided with blue. had he been a sprite, or a djin, he couldn't have popped up with more startling rapidity. truth is, the young rascal had been asleep under the table. "off on deck with you, freezing powders, and see what's up." freezing powders was down again in a moment. "take in all sail, sah! and square de yard; no wind, sah! nebber a puff." it was just as freezing powders said, but there was noise enough presently, and puffing too, for steam was got up, and the great screw was churning the waters of the dark northern ocean into creamish foam, as the vessel went steadily ahead at about ten knots an hour. there was no occasion to hurry. when rory and allan went on deck, they found the captain in consultation with the mates, mitchell and stevenson. "i must admit," mcbain was remarking, "that i can't make it out at all." "no more can we," said stevenson with a puzzled smile. "the wind has failed us all at once, and the sea gone down, and the glass seems to have taken leave of its senses entirely. it is up one moment high enough for anything, and down the next to degrees. there, just look at that sea and look at that sky." there was certainly something most appalling in the appearance of both. the ocean was calm and unruffled as glass, with only a long low heave on it; not a ripple on it big enough to swamp a fly; but over it all a strange, glassy lustre that--so you would have thought--could have been skimmed off. the sky was one mass of dark purple-black clouds in masses. it seemed no distance overhead, and the horizon looked hardly a mile away on either side. only in the north it was one unbroken bluish black, as dark seemingly as night, from the midst of which every now and then, and every here and there, would come quickly a little puff of cloud of a lightish grey colour, as if a gun had been fired. only there was no sound. there was something awe-inspiring in the strange, ominous look of sea and sky, and in the silence broken only by the grind and gride of screw and engine. "no," said mcbain, "i don't know what we are going to have. perhaps a tornado. anyhow, mr stevenson, let us be ready. get down topgallant masts, it will be a bit of exercise for the men; let us have all the steam we can command, and--" "batten down, sir?" "yes, mr stevenson, batten down, and lash the boats inboard." the good ship _arrandoon_ was at the time of which i write about fifty miles south of the faroes, and a long way to the east. the weather had been dark and somewhat gloomy, from the very time they lost sight of the snow-clad hills around oban, but it now seemed to culminate in a darkness that could be felt. the men were well drilled on board this steam yacht. mcbain delighted to have them smart, and it was with surprising celerity that the topgallant masts were lowered, the hatches battened down, and the good ship prepared for any emergency. none too soon; the darkness grew more intense, especially did the clouds look threatening ahead of them. and now here and there all round them the sea began to get ruffled with small whirlwinds, that sent the water wheeling round and round like miniature maelstroms, and raised it up into cones in the centre. "how is the glass now, mr stevenson?" asked mcbain. "stands very low, sir," was the reply, "but keeps steadily down." "all right," said mcbain; "now get two guns loaded with ball cartridge; have no more hands on deck than we want. no idlers, d'ye hear?" "ay, ay, sir." "send magnus bolt here." "now, magnus, old man," continued mcbain, "d'ye mind the time, some years ago in the _snowbird_, when you rid us of that troublesome pirate?" "ay, that i do right well, sir," said this little old weasened specimen of humanity, rubbing his hands with delight. "it were a fine shot that. he! he! he! mercy on us, to see his masts and sails come toppling down, sir,--he! he! he!" "well, i want you again, magnus; i'd rather trust to your old eye in an emergency than to any in the ship." "but where is the foe, sir?" "look ahead, magnus." magnus did as he was told; it was a strange, and to one who understood it, a dreadful sight. apparently a thousand balloons were afloat in the blue, murky air, each one trailing its car in the sea, balloons of terrible size, flat as to their tops, which seemed to join or merge into one another, forming a black and ominous cloud. the cars that trailed on the sea were snowy white. "heaven help us?" said magnus, clasping his hands for just a moment, while his cheeks assumed an ashen hue. "heaven help us, sir; this is worse than the pirate." "they are all coming this way," said mcbain; "fire only at those that threaten us, and fire while they are still some distance ahead." meanwhile ralph had come on deck, and joined his companions. i do not think that through all the long terrible hour that followed, either of them spoke one word; although there was no sea on, and for the most part no motion, they clutched with one hand rigging or shroud, and gazed terror-struck at the awful scene ahead and around them. they were soon in the very centre of what appeared an interminable forest of waterspouts. few indeed have ever seen such a sight or encountered so pressing a danger and lived to tell it. the balloon-shaped heads of these waterspouts looked dark as midnight; their shafts, i can call them nothing else, were immense pillars rising out of gigantic feet of seething foam. so close did they pass to some of these that the yardarms seemed almost to touch them. our heroes noticed then, and they marvelled at it afterwards, the strange monotonous roaring sound they emitted,--a sound that drowned even the noise of the troubled waters around their shafts. [such a phenomenon as this has rarely been witnessed in the northern ocean. it is somewhat strange that on the self-same year this happened, an earthquake was felt in ireland, and shocks even near perth, in scotland.] old magnus made good use of his guns on those that threatened the good ship with destruction; one shot broke always one, and sometimes more, probably with the vibration; but the thundering sound of the falling waters, and the turmoil of the sea that followed, what pen can describe? but, good shot as he is, magnus is not infallible, else mcbain would not now have to grasp his speaking-trumpet and shout,-- "stand by, men, stand by." a waterspout had wholly, or partially at least, broken on board of them. it was as though the splendid ship had suddenly been blown to atoms by a terrible explosion, and every timber of her engulfed in the ocean! for long moments thus, then her crew, half drowned, half dead, could once more look around. the _arrandoon_ was afloat, but her decks were swept. hundreds of tons of water still filled her decks, and poured out into the sea in cataracts through her broken bulwarks; ay, and it poured below too, at the fore and main hatchways, which had been smashed open with the violence and force of the deluge. the main-yard had come down, and one whaler was smashed into matchwood. i wish i could say this was all, but two poor fellows lost for ever the number of their mess. one was seen floating about dead and unwounded on the deck ere the water got clear; the other, with sadly splintered brow, was still clutching in a death-grasp a rope that had bound a tarpaulin over a grating. but away ahead appeared a long yellowish streak of clear sky, close to the horizon. the danger had passed. all hands were now called to clear away the wreck and make good repairs. the pumps, too, had to be set to work, and as soon as the wind came down on them from the clear of the horizon, sail was set, for the fires had been drowned out. the wind increased to a gale, and there was nothing for it but to lay to. and so they did all that night and all next day; then the weather moderated, and the wind coming more easterly they were able to show more canvas, and to resume their course with something akin to comfort. the bodies of the two poor fellows who had met with so sad a fate were committed to the deep--the sailor's grave. "earth to earth and dust to dust." there was more than one moist eye while those words were uttered, for the men had both been great favourites with their messmates. rory was sitting that evening with his elbows resting on the saloon table, his chin on his hands, and a book in front of him that he was not looking at, when mcbain came below. "you're quieter than usual," said mcbain, placing a kindly hand on his shoulder. rory smiled, forced a laugh even, as one does who wants to shake off an incubus. "i was thinking," he said, "of that awful black forest of waterspouts. i'll never get it out of my head." "oh! yes you will, boy rory," said mcbain; "it was a new sensation, that's all." "new sensation!" said allan, laughing in earnest; "well, captain, i must say that is a mild way of putting it. _i_ don't want any more such sensations. steward, bring some nice hot coffee." "ay!" cried ralph, "that's the style, allan. some coffee, steward--and, steward, bring the cold pork and fowls, and make some toast, and bring the butter and the chili vinegar." poor irish rory! like every one with a poetic temperament, he was easily cast down, and just as easily raised again. ralph's wondrous appetite always amused him. "oh, you true saxon!" said rory--"you hungry englishman!" but, ten minutes afterwards, he felt himself constrained to join the party at the supper table. you see, reader mine, a sailor's life is like an april day--sunshine now and showers anon. "how now, stevenson?" said mcbain, as the mate entered with a kind of a puzzled look on his face. "well, sir, we are, as you said, off the faroes. the night is precious dark, but i can see the lights of a village in here, and the lights of a vessel of some size, evidently lying at anchor." "then, mate," said the captain, "as we don't know exactly where we are, i don't think we can do wrong to steam in and drop anchor alongside this craft. we can then board her and find out. how is the weather?" "a bit thick, sir, and seems inclined to blow a little from the east-south-east." "let it, stevenson--let it. if the other vessel can ride it out i don't think the _arrandoon_ is likely to lose her anchors. hullo! mitchell," he continued, as the second mate next entered hat in hand, "what's in the wind now, man?" "why, sir," said mitchell, "i'm all ashore like, you see; i can't make it out. but here is a boat just been a-hailing of us, and the passenger--there is only one, a comely lass enough--has just come on board, and wants to see you at once. seems a bit cranky. here she be, sir;" and mitchell retired. a young girl. she was probably not over seventeen, fair-faced, and with wild blue eyes, and yellow hair, dripping with dew, floating over her shoulders. "stop the ship!" she cried, seizing mcbain by the arm. "go no farther, or her ribs will be scattered over the waves, and your bones will bleach on the cliffs of the rocks." "poor thing!" muttered mcbain. "oh, you heed me not!" continued the girl, wringing her hands in despair. "it will be too late--it will be too late! i tell you here is no harbour, here is no ship. the lights you see are placed there to lure your vessel on shore. they are wreckers, i tell you; they will--" "by the deep three!" sung the man in the chains. then there was a shout from the man at the foretop. "breakers ahead!" then, "stand by both anchors. ready about." chapter six. a life on the ocean wave--on the rocks--mystery--a home on the rolling deep. has the reader ever been to sea? the first feeling that a landsman objects to at sea is that of the heaving motion of the ship; to your true sailor the cessation of that motion, or its absence under circumstances, is disagreeable in the extreme. to me there is always a certain air of romance about the old ocean, and about a ship at sea; but what can be less romantic than lying in a harbour or dull wet dock, with no more life nor motion in your craft than there is in the slopshop round the corner? to lie thus and probably have to listen to the grating voices and pointless jokes of semi-inebriated stevedores, as they load or unload, soiling, as they do, your beautiful decks with their dreadful boots, is very far from pleasant. in a case like this how one wishes to be away out on the blue water once more, and to feel life in the good ship once again--to feel, as it were, her very heart throb beneath one's feet! but disagreeable as the sensation is of lying lifeless in harbour or dock, still more so is it to feel your vessel, that one moment before was sailing peacefully over the sea, suddenly rasp on a rock beneath you, then stop dead. nothing in the world will wake a sailor sooner, even should he be in the deepest of slumber, than this sudden cessation of motion. i remember on one particular occasion being awakened thus. no crew ever went to sleep with a greater feeling of security than we had done, for the night was fine and the ship went well. but all at once, about four bells in the middle watch,-- kurr-r-r-r! that was the noise we heard proceeding from our keel, then all was steady, all was still. and every man sprang from his hammock, every officer from his cot. we were in the middle of the indian ocean, or rather the mozambique channel, with no land in sight, and we were hard and fast on the dreaded lyra reef. a beautiful night it was, just enough wind to make a ripple on the water for the broad moon's beams to dance in, a cloudless sky, and countless stars. we took all this in at the first glance. safe enough we were--for the time; _but_ if the wind rose there was the certainty of our being broken up, even as the war-ship _lyra_ was, that gave its name to the reef. at the first shout from the man on the outlook in the _arrandoon_, mcbain rushed on deck. "stand by both anchors. ready about." but these orders are, alas! too late. kurr-r-r-r! the stately _arrandoon_ is hard and fast on the rocky bottom. the ship was under easy sail, for although there was hardly any wind, what little there was gave evident signs of shifting. it might come on to blow, and blow pretty hard, too, from the south-east or east-south-east, and mr stevenson was hardly the man to be caught in a trap, to find himself on a lee shore or a rock-bound coast, with a crowd of canvas. well for our people it was that there was but little sail on her and little wind, or, speedily as everything was let go, the masts-- some of them at least--would have gone by the board. half an hour after she struck, the _arrandoon_ was under bare poles and steam was up. the order had been given to get up steam with all speed. both the engineer and his two assistants were brawny scots. "man!" said the former, "it'll take ye a whole hour to get up steam if you bother wi' coals and cinders alone. but do your best wi' what ye hae till i come back." he wasn't gone long ere he came staggering down the ladder again, carrying a sack. "it's american hams," he said; "they're hardly fit for anything else but fuel, so here goes." and he popped a couple into the fire. "that's the style," he said, as they began to frizzle and blaze. "look, lads, the kettle'll be boilin' in twa seconds." "thank you, stuart," said mcbain, when the engineer went on the bridge to report everything ready; "you are a valuable servant; now stand by to receive orders." all hands had been called, and there was certainly plenty for them to do. it wanted several hours to high-water, and mcbain determined to make the best of his time. "by the blessing of providence on our own exertions, stevenson," the captain said, "we'll get her off all right. had it been high-water, though, when we ran on shore, eh!" stevenson laughed a grim laugh. "we'd leave her bones here," he said, "that would be all." the men were now getting their big guns over the side into the boats. this would lighten her a little. but as the tide was flowing, anchors were sent out astern, to prevent the ship from being carried still farther on to the reef. "go astern at full speed." the screws revolved and kept on revolving, the ship still stuck fast. the night was very dark, so that everything had to be done by the weird light of lanterns. never mind, the work went cheerily on, and the men sang as they laboured. "high-water about half-past two, isn't it, stevenson?" asked captain mcbain. "yes, sir," the mate replied, "that's about the time, sir." "ah! well," the captain said, "she is sure to float then, and there are no signs of your storm coming." "there is hardly a breath of wind now, sir, but you never know in these latitudes where it may come on to blow from next." the cheerful way in which mcbain talked reassured our heroes, and towards eleven o'clock english ralph spoke as follows,-- "look here, boys--" "there isn't a bit of good looking in the dark, is there?" said allan. "well," continued ralph, "figuratively speaking, look here; i don't see the good of sticking up on deck in the cold. we're not doing an atom of good; let us go below and finish our supper." "right," said allan; "and mind you, that poor girl is below there all this time. she may want some refreshment." when they entered the saloon they found it empty, deserted as far as human beings were concerned. polly the cockatoo was there, no one else. "well?" said the bird, inquiringly, as she helped herself to an enormous mouthful of hemp-seed. "well?" "what have you done with the young lady?" asked allan. "the proof o' the pudding--" polly was too busy eating to say more. peter the steward entered just then, overhearing the question as he came. "that strange girl, sir," he replied, "went over the side and away in her boat as soon as the ship struck." "well, i call that a pity," said allan; "the poor girl comes here to warn us of danger and never stops for thanks. it is wonderful." "from this date," remarked ralph, "i cease to wonder at anything. steward, you know we were only half done with supper, and we're all as hungry as hunters, and--" but peter was off, and in a few minutes our boys were supping as quietly and contentedly as if they had been in the coffee-room of the queen's hotel, glasgow, instead of being on a lee shore, with the certainty that if it came on to blow not a timber of the good ship _arrandoon_ that would not be smashed into matchwood. but hark! the noise on deck recommences, the men are heaving on the winch, the engines are once more at work, and the great screw is revolving. then there is a shout from the men forward. "she moves!" "hurrah! then, boys, hurrah!" cried mcbain; "heave, and she goes." [the word "hurrah" in the parlance of north sea sailors means "do your utmost" or "make all speed."] the men burst into song--tune a wild, uncouth sailor's melody, words extempore, one man singing one line, another metreing it with a second, with a chorus between each line, in which all joined, with all their strength of voice to the tune, with all the power of their brawny muscles to the winch. mere doggerel, but it did the turn better, perhaps, than more refined music would have done. in san domingo i was born, _chorus_--hurrah! lads, hurrah! and reared among the yellow corn. heave, boys, and away we go. our bold mcbain is a captain nice, _chorus_--hurrah! lads, hurrah! the main-brace he is _sure_ to splice. heave, boys, and away we go. the faroe isles are not our goal, oh! no, lads, no! we'll reach the north, and we'll _bag_ the pole, heave, boys, and away we go, hurrah! "we're off," cried stevenson, excitedly. "hurrah! men. hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" the men needed but little encouragement now, though. round went the winch right merrily, and in a quarter of an hour the bows were abreast of the anchors. "now, steward," said the captain, "splice the main-brace." the ration was brought and served, ted wilson, who was a moving spirit in the 'tween decks, giving a toast, which every man re-echoed ere he raised the basin to his head,-- "success to the saucy _arrandoon_, and our bold skipper, captain mcbain." the vessel's head was now turned seawards, and presently the anchors that had been taken in were let go again, and fires banked. the long night wore away, and the dismal dawn came. mcbain had lain down for a short time, with orders to be roused on the first appearance of daylight. rory, anxious to see how the land looked, was on deck nearly as soon as the captain. a grey mist was lifting up from off the sea, and from off the shore, revealing black, beetling crags, hundreds of feet high at the water's edge, a sheer beetling cliff around which thousands of strange sea-birds were wheeling and screaming, their white wings relieved against the black of the rocks, on which rows on rows of solemn-looking guillemots sat, and lines of those strange old-fashion-faced birds, the puffins. the cliffs were snow-clad, the hills above were terraced with rocks almost to their summits. between the ship and this inhospitable shore lay a long, dangerous-looking reef of rocks. "ah! rory," said mcbain, "there was a merciful providence watching over us last night. yonder is where we lay; had it come on to blow, not one of us would be alive this morning to see the sun rise." rory could hardly help, shuddering as he thought of the narrow escape they had had from so terrible a fate. when steam was got up they went round the island--it was one of the most southerly of the faroes; but except around one little bay, where boats might land with difficulty, it seemed impossible that human beings could exist in such a place. what, then, was the mystery of the previous evening, of the fair-haired girl, of the lights inside the reef that simulated those of a broad-beamed ship, of the lights like those of a village that twinkled on shore? the whole affair seemed strange, inexplicable. now that it was broad daylight the events of the preceding night, with its dangers and its darkness, had more the similitude of some dreadful dream than a stern reality. this same evening the anchor was let go in the bay of thorshaven, the capital--city, shall i say?--of the faroe islands. i am writing a tale of adventure, not a narrative of travel, else would i willingly devote a whole chapter to a description of this quaint and primitive wee, wee town. our heroes saw it at its very worst, its very bleakest, for winter still held it in thrall; the turf-clad roofs of its cottages, that in summer are green with grass and redolent of wild thyme, were now clad with snow; its streets, difficult to climb even in july, were now stairs of glass; its fort looked frozen out; and its little chapel, where sunday after sunday the hardy and brave inhabitants, who never move abroad without their lives in their hands, worship god in all humility--this little chapel stood up black and bold against its background of snow. although the streamlets were all frozen, although ice was afloat in the bay, and a grey and leaden sky overhead, our boys were not sorry to land and have a look around. to say that they were hospitably received would be hardly doing the faroese justice, for hospitality really seems a part and parcel of the people's religion. the viands they placed before them were well cooked, but curious, to say the least of it. steak of young whale, stew of young seal's liver, roast guillemot and baked auk; these may sound queer as dinner dishes, but as they were cooked by the ancient faroese gentleman who entertained our heroes at his house, each and all of them were brave eating. couldn't they stop a month? this gentleman, who looked like a true descendant of some ancient viking, asked mcbain. well then, a fortnight? well, surely one short week? but, "nay, nay, nay," the captain answered, kindly and smilingly, to all his entreaties; they must hurry on to the far north ere spring and summer came. the faroese could give them no clue to the mystery that shrouded the previous night. they had never heard of either wreckers or pirates in these peaceful islands. "but," said the old viking, "we are willing to turn out to a man; we are one thousand inhabitants in all--including the women; but even they will go; and we have ten brave, real soldiers in the fort, they too will go, and we will make search, and if we find them we will hang them on--on--" the old man hesitated. "on the nearest tree," suggested rory with a mischievous smile. the viking laughed grimly at the joke. "well," he said, "we will hang them anyhow, trees or no trees." but mcbain could not be induced to deviate from his set purpose, and bidding these simple folk a friendly farewell, they steamed once more out of the bay, passed many a strange, fantastic island, passed rocks pierced with caves, and bird-haunted, and so, with the vessel's prow pointing to the northward and west, they left the faroes far behind them. tremendous seas rolled in from the broad atlantic all that night and all next day, little wind though, and no broken water. in the evening, in the dog-watch, the waves seemed to increase in size; they were miles long, mountains high; when down in the trough of the sea you had to look up to their crests as you would to the summer's sun at noontide. indeed, those waves made the brave ship _arrandoon_ look wondrous small. mcbain, somewhat to stevenson's astonishment, made the man at the wheel steer directly north. "we're out of our course, sir," said the mate. "pardon me for a minute or two," replied the captain, half apologetically, "we are now broadside on to these seas, i just want to test her stability." "well, everything is pretty fast, sir," said the mate, quietly; "but if the ship goes on her beam-ends don't blame me." "perhaps, mr stevenson, there wouldn't be much time to blame any one; but i can trust my ship, i think. wo! my beauty." the beauty didn't seem a bit inclined to "wo!" however. she positively rolled her ports under, and rory confessed that the doldrums were nothing to this. presently up comes rory from below. "och! captain dear," he says, "my gun-case has burst my fiddle-case, and i'm not sure that the fiddle herself is safe, the darling." next up comes stevenson. "please captain," he says, "the steward says his crockery is all going to smithereens, and the cook can't keep the fire in the galley range, and freezing powders has broken the tureen and spilt the soup, and--" "enough, enough," cried mcbain, laughing; "take charge, mate, and do as you like with her, i'm satisfied." so down below dived the captain, the ship's head was once more turned north-west, and a bit of canvas clapped on to steady her. chapter seven. sandie mcflail, m.d.--"wha wouldna' be a sea-bird?"--the girl tells her strange adventures--nightfall on the sea. there is one member of the mess whom i have not yet introduced, but a very worthy member he is, our youthful doctor. poor fellow! never before had he been to sea, and so he suffered accordingly. oh! right bravely had he tried to keep up for all that. he was the boldest mariner afloat while coming down the clyde; he disappeared as the ship began to round the stormy mull. he appeared again for a short time at oban, but vanished when the anchor was weighed. at lerwick, where they called in to take old magnus bolt on board, and ship a dozen stalwart shetlanders, the doctor was once more seen on deck; and it was currently reported that when the vessel lay helpless on the reef, a ghostly form bearing a strong resemblance to the bold surgeon was seen flitting about in the darkness, and a quavering voice was heard to put this solemn question more than once, "any danger, men? men, are we in danger?" this was the last that had been seen of the medico; but rory found a slate in the dispensary, into which sanctum, by the way, he had no right to pop even his nose. he brought this slate aft, the young rascal, and read what was written thereon to allan and ralph, from which it was quite evident that sandie mcflail, m.d., of aberdeen, had made a most intrepid attempt to keep a diary. the entries were short, and ran somewhat thus:-- "february th.--dropped away from the broomielaw and steamed down the beautiful clyde. charming day, though cold, and the hills on each side the river clothed in virgin snow. felt sad and sorrowful at leaving my native land. i wonder will ever we return, or will the great sea swallow us up? would rather it didn't. i wonder if _she_ will think of me and pray for her mariner bold when the wind blows high at night, when the cold rain beats against the window-panes of her little cot, and the storm spirit roars around the old chimneys. i feel a sailor already all over, and i tread the decks with pride. "feb. th.--at sea. the ocean getting rough. passed some seagulls. "feb. th.--sea rougher. passed a ship. "feb. th.--sea still rough. passed some seaweed. "feb. th.--sea mountains high. passed--" "and here," says rory, "the diary breaks off all of a sudden like; and all of a sudden the entries close; so, really, there is no saying what the doctor passed on the th. but just about this time, the mate tells me, he was seen leaning languidly over the side, so--" "ho, ho!" cried mcbain, close at his ear. the captain had entered the saloon unperceived by boy rory, and had been standing behind him all the time he was reading. ralph and allan saw him well enough, but they, of course, said nothing, although they could not refrain from laughing. "ho, ho, rory, my boy!" says mcbain; "ho, ho, boy rory! so you're fairly caught?" "and indeed then," says rory, jumping up and looking as guilty as any schoolboy, "i didn't know you were there at all at all." "of that i am perfectly sure," mcbain says, laughing, "else you wouldn't have been reading the poor doctor's private diary. what shall we do with him, ralph? what shall he be done to, allan?" "oh!" said ralph, mischievously; "send him to the masthead for a couple of hours. into the foretop, mind, where he'll get plenty of air about him." "no," said allan, grinning; "give him a seat for three hours on the end of the bowsprit. of course, captain mcbain, you'll let him have a bottle of hot water at his feet, and a blanket or two about him. he is only a little one, you know." "but now that i think of it," said mcbain, "you are all the same, boys; there isn't one of you a whit better than the other." "sure and you're right, captain," rory put in, "for if i was reading, they were listening, most intently, too." "well then, boys, i'll tell you how you can make amends to the honest doctor. off you go, the three of you, and see if you can't rouse him out. get him to come on deck and breathe the fresh air. he'll soon get round." and off our three heroes went, joyfully, on their mission of mercy. they found the worthy doctor in bed in his cabin, and forthwith set about kindly but firmly rousing him out. they had even brought freezing powders with them, to carry a pint of moselle. "i feel vera limp," said sandie, as soon as he got dressed, "vera limp indeed. well, as you say, the moselle may do me good, but i'm a teetotaler as a rule." "we never touch any wine," said ralph, "nor care to; but this, my dear doctor, is medicine." sandie confessed himself better immediately when he got on deck. with allan on one side of him and big ralph on the other, he was marched up and down the deck for half an hour and more. "man! gentlemen!" he remarked, "i thought i could walk finely, but i'm just now for a' the world like a silly drunken body." "we were just the same," said allan, "when we came first to sea-- couldn't walk a bit; but we soon got our sea-legs, and we've never lost them yet." the doctor was struck with wonder at the might and majesty of the waves, and also at the multitude of birds that were everywhere about and around them. kittiwakes, solons, gulls, guillemots, auks, and puffins, they whirled and wheeled around the ship in hundreds, screaming and shrieking and laughing. they floated on the water, they swam on its surface, and dived down into its dark depths, and no fear had they of human beings, nor of the steamer itself. "how happy they all seem!" said rory; "if i was one of the lower animals, as we call them, sure there is nothing in the wide world i'd like better to be than a sea-bird." "true for you," said allan; "it's a wild, free life they lead." "and they seem to have no care," said the doctor. "their meat is bound to their heads; at any rate, they never have far to go to seek it. when tired they can rest; when rested they can fly again. then look at the warm and beautiful coats they wear. there is no wetting them to the skin; the water glides off o' them like the rain from a duck's back. then think o' the pleasure o' possessin' a pair o' wings that can cleave the air like an arrow from a bowstring; that in a few short days, independent o' wind or waves or weather, can carry them from the cauld north far, far awa' to the saft and sunny south. wha wouldna' be a sea-bird?" "yes," reiterated rory, stopping in front of the doctor; "as you say, doctor, `wha wouldna' be a sea-bird?' but pardon me, sir, for in you i recognise a kindred spirit, a lover of nature, a lover of the beautiful. you and i will be friends, doctor--fast friends. there, shake hands." "as for ralph and allan," he added, with a mischievous grin, "'deed in troth, doctor dear, there isn't a bit of poetry in their nature, and they would any day far sooner see a couple of eider ducks roasted and flanked with apple sauce, than the same wildly beautiful birds happy and alive and afloat on the dark, heaving breast of the ocean. it's the truth i'm telling ye, doctor. d'ye play at all? have you any favourite instrument?" "weel, sir," the doctor replied, "i canna say that i'm vera much o' a musician, but i just can manage to toot a wee bit on the flute." "and i've no doubt," said rory, "that you `toot' well, too." the conversation never slackened for a couple of hours, and so well did the doctor feel, that of his own free will he volunteered joining them at dinner in the saloon. mcbain was as much surprised as delighted when he came below to dine, and found that their new messmate, sandie mcflail, had at long last put in an appearance at table. the swell on the sea was much less next morning; the wind had slightly increased, and more sail had been spread, so that the ship was moderately steady. the rugged coast and strange, fantastic rocks of the outlying islands of iceland were in sight, and, half-buried in misty clouds, the distant mountains could be dimly descried. "yonder," said the mate, advancing towards captain mcbain, glass in hand,--"yonder is a small boat, sir, with a bit of a sail on her; she has just rounded the needle rocks, and seems standing in for the mainland." "well," said the captain, "let us overhaul her, anyhow. there can be no harm in that, and it may secure us a fresh fish or two for dinner." in less than an hour the _arrandoon_ had come up with this strange sail, which at first sight had seemed a mere speck on the ocean, seen at one moment and hidden the next behind some mountain roller. the surprise of our heroes may be better imagined than described, to find afloat in this cockle-shell of a boat, with an oar shipped as a mast and a tartan plaid as a main-sail, none other than the heroine of the wreckers' reef. seeing that she was in the power of the big ship, she made no further attempt to get away, but, dropping her sail, she seized the oars, paddled quietly and coolly alongside, and next moment stood on the quarter-deck, with bowed head and modest mien, before captain mcbain. the captain took her kindly by the hand, smiling as he said, "do not be afraid, my girl; consider yourself among friends--among those, indeed, who would do anything in their power to serve you, even if they were not already deeply in your debt, and deeply grateful." "ah!" she said, mournfully, "my warning came all too late to save you. but, praised be god! you are safe now, and not in the power of those terrible men, who would have spared not a single life of those the waves did not engulf." "but tell us," continued mcbain, "all about it--all about yourself. there is some strange mystery about the matter, which we would fain have solved. but stay--not here, and not yet. you must be very tired and weary; you must first have rest and refreshment, after which you can tell us your tale. stevenson, see the little boat hauled up; and, doctor, i place this young lady under your care; to-night i hope to land her safely in reikjavik; meanwhile my cabin is at her disposal." "come, lassie," said the good surgeon, laconically, leading the way down the companion. merely dropping a queenly curtsey to mcbain and our young heroes, she followed the doctor without a word. peter the steward placed before her the most tempting viands in the ship, yet she seemed to have but little appetite. "i am tired," she said at length, "i fain would rest. long weary weeks of sorrow have been mine. but they are past and gone at last." then she retired, this strange ocean waif and stray, and so the day wore gradually to a close, and they saw no more of her until the sun, fierce, fiery, and red, began to disappear behind the distant snow-clad hills; then they found her once more in their midst. she had gathered the folds of her plaid around her, her long yellow hair still floated over her shoulders, and her dreamy blue eyes were shyly raised to mcbain's face as she began to speak. "i owe you some explanation," she said. "my strange conduct must appear almost inexplicable to you. my appearance among you two nights ago was intended to save you from the destruction that awaited you--from the destruction that had been prepared for you by the danish wreckers." "sir," she continued, after a pause, "i am myself a dane. my father was parish minister in the little village of elmdene. alas! i fear he is now no more. afflictions gathered and thickened around us in our once happy little home, and the only way we could see out of them was to leave our native land and cross the ocean. in america we have many friends who had kindly offered us an asylum, until happier days should come again. our vessel was a brig, our crew all told only twenty hands, and we, my brother, father, and myself--for mother has long since gone up beyond--were the only passengers. "all went well until we were off the northern shetlands, when at the dark, starry hour of midnight our ship was boarded and carried by pirates. every one in the ship was put to the sword, saving my father and myself. my poor dear brave brother was slain before my eyes, but he died as the danes die--with his face to the foe. my father was promised his life if he would perform the ceremony of marriage between myself and the pirate captain, who is a russian, a daring, fearless fellow, but a strange compound of superstition and vice--a man who will go to prayers before scuttling a ship! the object of this pirate was to seize your vessel; he would have met and fought you at sea, but the easier plan for him was to try to wreck you. fortune seemed to favour this bold design of his. the lights placed on shore, to represent a vessel of large size, were part and parcel of his vile scheme. but the darkness of the night enabled me to escape and come towards you. then i feared to return; but, alas! alas! i now tremble lest my dear father has had to pay the penalty of my rashness with his life." [the story of the pirate is founded on fact.] "but the ship--this pirate?" said mcbain. "we sailed around the island next day but saw no signs of him?" "then," said the girl, "he must have escaped in the darkness, immediately after discovering the entire failure of his scheme." "and whither were you bound for when we overtook you, my poor girl?" asked mcbain. "at reikjavik," she replied, "i have an uncle, a minister. he it was who taught me all i know, while he was still at home in elmdene--taught me among other things the beautiful language of your country, which i speak, but speak so indifferently." "can this be," said mcbain, "the self-same pirate that attacked the _snowbird_?" "the very same thought," answered ralph, "was passing through my own mind." "and yet how strange that a pirate should, cruise in these far northern seas?" "she has less chance of being caught, at all events," allan said. "ha?" exclaimed mcbain, with a kind of grim, exultant laugh, "if she comes across the _arrandoon_, that chance will indeed be a small one. she'll find us a different kind of a craft from the _snowbird_." the vessel was now heading directly for the south-east coast of iceland. somewhere in there, though at present hidden by points of land and rocky islets, lay the capital of iceland, which they hoped to reach ere midnight. a more lovely land and seascape than that which was now stretched out before them, it would indeed be difficult to conceive. the sun had gone down behind the western end of a long line of snow-clad mountains, serrated, jagged, and peaked, but their tops were all rose-tipped with his parting beams. above them the sky was clear, with just one speck of crimson cloud; the lower land between was bathed in a purple mist, through which the ice-bound rocks could dimly be discerned, while the mantle of night had already been spread over the ocean. it was "nightfall on the sea." chapter eight. a gale from the mountains--daybreak in iceland--the great balloon ascent--rory's yarn--the snow-cloud--the pirate is seen. a whole week has elapsed since the events transpired which i have related in last chapter,--a week most interestingly if not always quite pleasantly spent. the _arrandoon_ is lying before the quaint, fantastical old town of reikjavik, surrounded almost in every direction by mountains bold and wild, the peaked summits and even the sides of which are now covered with ice and snow. for spring has not yet arrived to unrivet stern winter's chains, to swell the rivers into roaring torrents, and finally to carpet the earth with beauty. the streams are still frozen, the bay in which the good ship lies at her anchors twain, is filled with broken pancake-ice, which makes communication with the shore by means of boat a matter of no little difficulty, for oars have to be had inboard or used as pressing poles, and boat-hooks are in constant requisition. winter it is, and the country all around might be called dreary, were it not for the ever-varying shades of colour that, as the sun shines out, or anon hides his head behind a cloud, spread themselves over hill and dale and rugged glen. oh! the splendour of those sunrises and sunsets, the rose tints, the purples, the emerald greens and cool greys, that blaze and blend, grow faint and fade as they chase each other among mountains and ravines! what a poor morsel of steel my pen feels as i attempt to describe them! yet have they a beauty peculiarly their own,--a beauty which never can be forgotten by those whose eyes have once rested thereon. the fair-haired danish girl has been landed, and for a time has found shelter and peace in the humble home of her uncle the clergyman. our heroes have been on shore studying the manners and customs of the primitive but hospitable people they find themselves among. several city worthies have been off to see the ship and to dine. but to-night our heroes are all by themselves in the saloon. dinner is finished, nuts and fruit and fragrant coffee are on the table, at the head of which sits the captain, on his right the doctor and ralph, on his left allan and rory. freezing powders, neatly dressed, is hovering near, and peter, the steward, is not far off, while the cockatoo is busy as usual, helping himself to tremendous billfuls of hemp-seed, but nevertheless putting in his oar every minute, with a "well, duckie?" or a long-drawn "dea-ah me!" i cannot say that all is peace, though, beyond the wooden walls of the _arrandoon_, for a storm is raging with almost hurricane violence, sweeping down from the hills with ever-varying force, and threatening to tear the vessel from her anchorage. steam is up, the screw revolves, and it taxes all the engineer's skill to keep up to the anchors so as to avert the strain from them. but our boys are used to danger by this time, and there is hardly a moment's lull in the conversation. even sandie mcflail, m.d. o' aberdeen, has already forgotten all the horrors of _mal-de-mer_; he even believes he has found his sea-legs, and feels all over as good a sailor as anybody. "reikjavik?" says ralph; "isn't it a queer break-jaw kind of a name. it puts one in mind of a mouthful of exceedingly tough beefsteak." "a gastronomic simile," says rory; "though maybe neither poetical nor elegant, sure, but truly saxon." "ah! weel," the doctor says, in his quiet, thoughtful, canny way, "i dinna know now. some o' the vera best poetry of all ages bears reference to the pleesures o' the table. witness horace's odes, for instance." "hear! hear!" from allan; and "horace was a brick!" from honest english ralph; but rory murmurs "moore?" "but," continues the doctor, "to my ear there is nothing vera harsh in the language that these islanders speak. they pronounce the `ch' hard, like the scotch; their `j's' soft, like the spanish; and turn their `w's' into `v's.' they pronounce church--kurk; and the `j' is a `y,' or next thing to it. `reik' or `reyk' means smoke, you know, as it is in scotch `reek;' and `wik,' or `wich,' or `vik' means a bay, as in the english `woolwich,' `sandwich,' etc, so that reikjavik is simply `the bay of smoke,' or `the smoking bay;' but whether with reference to the smoke that hangs over the town, or the spray that rises mistlike from the seething billows when the wind blows, i cannot say--probably the former; and it is worthy of note, gentlemen, that some savage races far, far away from here--the aborigines of australia, for example--designate towns by the term `the big smoke.'" "how profoundly erudite you are, doctor!" says rory. "now, wouldn't it have been much better for your heirs and assigns and the world at large, if you had accepted a professorship of antiquity in the university of aberdeen, instead of coming away with us, to cool the toes of you at the north pole, and maybe leave your bones to bleach beneath the aurora borealis, eh?" "ha! there i have you," cries sandie, smiling good-humouredly, for by this time he was quite used to rory's bantering ways,--"there i have you, boy rory; and it is with the profoundest awe and respect for everything sacred, that i remind you that the aurora borealis never bleached any bones; and those poor unfortunates who, in their devotion for science, have wandered towards the mystery land around the pole, and there laid down their lives, will never, never moulder into dust, but, entombed in the green, salt ice, with the virgin snow as their winding-sheet, their bodies will rest in peace, and rest intact until the trumpet sounds." there was a lull in the conversation at this point, but no lull in the storm; the waves dashed wildly over the ship, the wind roared through the rigging, the brave vessel quivered from stem to stern, as if in constant fear she might be hurled from the protection afforded by anchor and cable, and cast helpless upon the rock-bound shore. a lull, broken presently by a deep sigh from freezing powders. "well, duckie?" said polly, in sympathising tones. "well, freezing powders," said mcbain, "and pray what are you sighing about?" "what for i sigh?" repeated freezing powders. "am you not afraid you'se'f, sah! you not hear de wild winds roar, and de wave make too much bobbery? 'tis a'most enuff, sah, to make a gem'lam turn pale, sah!" "ha! ha?" laughed rory; "really, it'll take a mighty big storm, freezing powders, to make you turn pale. but, doctor," he continued, "what say you to some music?" "if you'll play," said the surgeon, "i'll toot." and so the concert was begun; and the shriek of the storm spirit was drowned in mirth and melody, or, as the doctor, quoting burns, expressed it,-- "the storm without might roar and rustle, they didna mind the storm a whustle." but after this night of storm and tempest, what a wonderful morning it was! the sun shot up amidst the encrimsoned mountain peaks, and shone brightly down from a sky of cloudless blue. the snow was everywhere dazzling in its whiteness, and there was not a sigh of wind to raise so much as a ripple on the waters of the bay, from which every bit of ice had been blown far to sea. wild birds screamed with joy as they wheeled in hundreds around the ship, while out in the bay a shoal of porpoises were disporting themselves, leaping high in air from out of the sparkling waters, and shrieking--or, as the doctor called it, "whustling"--for very joy. every one on board the _arrandoon_ was early astir--up, indeed, before the sun himself--for there were to be great doings on shore to-day. the first great experimental balloon ascent and flight was about to be made. every one on shore was early astir, too; in fact, the greatest excitement prevailed, and on the table-land to the right of, and some little distance from, the town, from which the balloon was to ascend, the people had assembled from an early hour, even the ladies of reikjavik turning out dressed in their gayest attire, no small proportion of which consisted of fur and feathers. the aeronaut was a professional, monsieur de vere by name. mcbain had gone all the way to paris especially to engage his services. nor had he hired him at random, for this canny captain of ours had not only satisfied himself that de vere was in a scientific point of view a clever man, but he had accompanied him in several ascents, and could thus vouch for his being a really practical aeronaut. who would go with de vere in this first great trip over the regions of perpetual snow? the doctor stepped forward as a volunteer, and by his side was rory. perhaps allan and ralph were rather lazy for any such aerial exploit; anyhow, they were content to stay at home. "we'll look on, you know," said ralph, "as long as we can see you; and when you return--that is, if ever you do return--you can tell us all about it." when all was ready the ropes were cast loose, and, with a ringing cheer from the assembled multitude, up arose the mighty balloon, straight as arrow from bow, into the blue, sunny sky. like the eagle that soars from the peak of benrinnes, she seemed to seek the very sun itself. rory and the surgeon, who had never been in a balloon before--nor even, for the matter of that, down in a coalpit--at first hardly relished their sudden elevation, but they soon got used to it. not the slightest motion was there; rory could hardly credit the fact that he was moving, and when at last he did muster up sufficient courage to peep earthwards over the side of the car. "oh, look, doctor dear!" he cried; "sure, look for yourself; the world is moving away from us altogether!" and this was precisely the sensation they experienced. both the doctor and rory were inclined to clutch nervously and tremulously the sides of the car in the first part of their ascent; but though the former was not much of a sailor, somewhat to his surprise he experienced none of those giddy feelings common to the landsman when gazing from an immense height. he could look beneath him and around him, and enjoy to the full the strange bird's-eye landscape and seascape that every moment seemed to broaden and widen, until a great portion of the northern island, with its mountains, its lakes, its frozen torrents, its gulfs and bays and islands, and the great blue southern ocean, even to the far-off faroe isles, lay like a beautifully portrayed map beneath their feet. the grandeur of the scene kept them silent for long minutes; it impressed them, it awed them. it did more than even this, for it caused them to feel their own littleness, and the might of the majesty that made the world. de vere himself seldom vouchsafed a single glance landwards; he seemed to busy himself wholly and solely with the many strange instruments with which he was surrounded. he was hardly a moment idle. the intense cold, that soon began to benumb the senses of sandie, seemed to have no deterrent effect on his efforts. "i must confess i do fell sleepy," said the worthy medico, "and i meant to assist you, mr de vere." "here," cried the scientist, pouring something out of a phial, and handing it to him, "drink that quick." "i feel double the individual," cried sandie, brightly, as soon as he had swallowed the draught. "come," said rory, "come, monsieur, _i_ want to feel double the individual, too." "no, no, sir," said de vere, smiling, "an irishman no want etherism; you are already--pardon me--too ethereal." sandie was gazing skywards. "it is the moon,"--he was saying--"i ken her horn, she's blinkin' in the lift sae hie; she smiles, the jade! to wile us hame, but, 'deed, i doubt, she'll wait a wee." "happy thought!" cried rory; "let us go to the moon." "no," laughed the doctor; "nobody ever got that length yet." "oh, you forget, mr surgeon," said rory,--"you forget entirely all about danny o'rourke." "tell us, then, rory." "troth, then," began rory, in his richest brogue, "it was just like this same. danny was a dacint boy enough, who lived entoirely alone with biddy his wife, and the pig, close to a big bog in old oireland. sitting on a stone in the midst of this bog was danny, one foine summer's evening, when who should fly down but an aigle. `foine noight,' says the aigle. `the same to you,' says danny, `and many of them.' `but,' says the aigle, `don't you see that it is sinking you are?' `och! sure,' cries danny, `and so it is. i'll be swallowed up in the bog, and poor biddy and the pig will nivir set eyes on me again. och! och! what'll i do?' `git on to me back, troth,' says the aigle, `and i'll fly you sthraight to your biddy's door.' `and the blessings av the o'rourkes be wid ye thin,' says danny, putting his arms round the aigle's neck, `for you are the sinsible bird, and whatever i'd have done widout ye, ne'er a bit o' me knows. but isn't it high enough you are now, aroon? yonder is my cottage just down there.' for," continued rory, "you must know that by this time the aigle had mounted fully a mile high with poor danny. `be quiet wid ye,' says the aigle, `or i'll shake ye off me back entoirely. don't ye remember robbing my nest last year? _i_ do. and it's niver a cottage you'll ever see again, nor biddy, nor the pig either. it's right up to the moon i'm flying wid ye.' `what!' cries danny, `to that bit av a thing like a raping-hook? och! and och! what'll become av me at all at all?' but the moon got bigger the nearer they came to it, and they found it a dacint size enough when they got there entirely. `catch a howld av the end av the raping-hook,' says the aigle, `or by this and by that i'll shake ye off me shoulder.' and so poor danny had no ho' but just to do as he was told, and away flew the aigle and left him. while he was wondering what he should do now, a stern voice behind him says, `let go--let go the end of the raping-hook, and be off wid ye back to your own counthry.' `it's hardly civil av you,' says danny, `to ask me sich a thing. sure it is few ever come to call on you anyhow.' `let go,' thundered the man o' the moon; and he gave danny just one kick, and off went the poor boy flying into the air. `it's killed i'll be,' says he to himself, `killed entoirely wid the fall, and what'll become o' me wife biddy and the pig is more'n i can tell.' but he fell, and he fell, and he fell, and he never seemed to stop falling, till plump he alights right in the middle o' the sea, and there he lay on the broad back av him, till a big lump av a whale came and splashed him all over wid his tail. but sure enough the sea was only his bed, and the big whale turned out to be biddy herself, with the watering-pot, telling him to get up, for a lazy ould boy, and feed the pig, and troth it was nothing but a dream after all. "but where in the name of wonder are we now?" he continued, gazing around. it was a very natural question. it had got suddenly dark. they were enveloped in a snow-cloud. the brave balloon seemed to struggle through it. ballast was thrown over, and up and out into the sunshine she rose again, but what a change had come over her appearance--every rope and length of her and the car itself and our bold aeronauts were covered white with virgin snow. "monsieurs," said de vere, "this is more than i bargained for. we must descend. you see she has lost all life. de lofely soul dat was in de balloon seems to have gone. we will descend." indeed the huge balloon was already moving slowly earthwards, and in a minute more they were again passing through the snow-cloud. once clear of this a breeze sprang up, or, to speak more correctly, they entered a current of air, that carried them directly inland for many miles. tired of this direction, the valve was opened, out roared the gas, and the descent became more rapid, until the wind ceased to blow--they were beneath the adverse current. more ballast was thrown out, and her "way" was stopped. but see, what aileth our hero, boy rory? for some minutes he has been gazing southwards over the sea, so intensely indeed that his looks almost frighten the honest doctor. "the glass, the glass," he hisses, holding round his hand, but not taking his glance for a moment off the southern horizon. the glass is handed to him, he adjusts it to his eye, and takes one long, fixed look; and when he turns once more towards the doctor his face is radiant with joy and excitement. "it is she," he cried, "it is _she_, it is she!" the doctor really looked scared. "man!" he said, "are ye takin' leave o' your wuts? there, tak' a hold o' my hand and dinna try to frighten folk. there's never a `she' near ye." "it is _she_, i tell you," cried rory again; "take the glass and look in under the land yonder, and heading for stromsoe. it is the pirate herself,--the pirate we fought in the _snowbird_. hurrah! hurrah!" chapter nine. mount hekla--the great geyser--a narrow escape--the search for the pirate--mcbain's little "ruse de guerre"--the battle begun. "that puts quite another complexion on the matter," said dr sandy mcflail, with a sigh of relief, when rory explained to him that he had spied the pirate, "quite another complexion, though, for the time bein' ye glowered sae like a warlock that i did think ye had lost your reason; so give me the glass, and i'll e'en take a look at her mysel'. "eh! sirs," he continued, with the telescope at his eye, "but she is a big ship, and a bonnie ship. but, rory boy, just catch a hold o' my coat-tails, and i'll feel more secure like. i wouldn't wish to go heels o'er head out o' the car. a fine big ship indeed--square-rigged forward and schooner-rigged aft; a vera judeecious arrangement." "now," cried rory, "the sooner we are landed on old mother earth the better. bend on to the valve halyards, de vere. down with her." "sirs! sirs!" cried the doctor, in great alarm; "pray don't be rash. be judeecious, gentlemen, be judeecious." de vere looked from one to the other, then laughed aloud. he was amused at the impetuosity of the irishman and at the canniness of the scot. a very pleasant little man was this de vere to look at, black as to hair and moustache, dark as to eyes; thoughtful-looking as a rule were these eyes, yet oft lit up with fun. he never spoke much, perhaps he cogitated the more; he seldom made a joke himself, but he had a high appreciation of humour in others. taking him all and all he gave you the impression of one who would be little likely to lose his presence of mind in a time of danger. "gentlemen," he said, quietly, "you will leave the descent in my hands, if you please. we are now, by my calculation, some ninety miles from the city of reikjavik. you see beneat' you wild mountains, ice-bound plains, frozen lakes, rivers and waterfalls, deep ravines and gorges, but no sign of smoke, no life. shall i make my descent here? shall i pull vat monsieur rory call de valve halyard? shall i land in de regions of desolation?" "dinna think o't," cried sandy. "never mind rory; he is only a laddie." "it's yourself that's complimentary," quoth rory. "ah! ver' well," said de vere; "i will go on, for since you have been gazing on de ship, de current have change, and we once more get nearer home." an hour went slowly by. both the doctor and rory were gazing at the _far-off_ mountain, hekla, that lay to the south and east, though distant many miles. the vast hill looked a king among the other mountains; a king, but a dead king, being still and quiet in the sunshine, enrobed in a shroud of snow. sandy was doubly engaged--he was talking musingly, and aloud; but at the same time he was doing ample justice to the venison pie that lay so confidingly on his knee, for sandy was a bit of a philosopher in his own quiet way. "mount hekla," he was saying; "is it any wonder that these norsemen, these superstitious sons of the ancient vikings, look upon it as the entrance-gate to the terrible abode of fire and brimstone, gloom and woe, where are confined the souls of the unhappy dead? hekla, round thy snow-capped summit the thunders never cease to roll--" "hark," said rory, holding up his hand; "talk about thunder, list to that." both leant over the car and looked earthwards. what could it mean, that low, deep, long-continued thunderpeal? was a storm raging beneath them? yes, but not of the kind they at first imagined. for see, from where yonder hill starts abruptly from the glen, rise immense clouds of silvery white, and roll slowly adown the valley. the balloon hangs suspended right above the great _geyser_, which is now in full eruption. "it is as i thought," said de vere; "let us descend a little way;" and he opened the valve as he spoke. the balloon made a downward rush as he did so, as if she meant to plunge herself and all her occupants into the very midst of the boiling cauldron. the steam from the geyser had almost reached their feet; the car thrilled beneath them, while the never-ceasing thunder pealed louder and louder. "my conscience!" roared honest sandy, losing all control over himself; "we'll be boiled alive like so many partans!" [partans: scottish, crabs.] de vere coolly threw overboard a bag or two of sand, and the balloon mounted again like a skylark. and not too soon either, for, awful, to relate, in his sudden terror sandy had made a grab at the valve-rope, as if to check her downward speed. had not rory speedily pulled him back, the consequences would have been too dreadful to think of. de vere only laughed; but he held up one finger by way of admonishing the doctor as he said, "neever catch hold of de reins ven anoder man is driving." "but," said rory, "didn't you go a trifle too near that time, mister de vere?" "a leetle," said the frenchman, coolly. "it was noding." "ach! sure no," says rory; "it was nothing at all; and yet, mister de vere, it isn't the pleasantest thing in the world to imagine yourself being played at pitch and toss with on the top of a mighty geyser, for all the world like a nut-gall on the top of a twopenny fountain!" sandy resumed the dissection of his venison pie. he would have a long entry for his diary to-night, he thought. luck does not always attend the aeronaut, albeit fortune favours the brave, and the current of air that was carrying the balloonists so merrily back to reikjavik, ceased entirely when they were still within ten miles of that quaint wee place. it was determined, therefore, to make a descent. happily, they were over a glen. close by the sea and around the bay were many small farms, and so adroitly did de vere manage to attach an anchor to the roof of an old barn, that descent was easy in the extreme. perhaps the happiest man in the universe at the moment sandy mcflail's feet touched mother earth again was sandy himself. "man!" he cried to rory, rubbing his hands and laughing with glee, "i thought gettin' out meant a broken leg at the vera least, and i haven't even bled my nose." there was some commotion, i can tell you, among the feathered inmates of the barnyard when the balloonists popped down among them; as for the farm folks, they had shut themselves up in the dwelling-house. the geese were particularly noisy. geese, reader, always remind me of those people we call sceptics: they are sure to gabble their loudest at things they can't understand. but convinced at last that the aeronauts were neither evil spirits nor inhabitants of the moon, the good farmer made them heartily welcome at his fireside, and assisted them to pack, so that, by the aid of men and ponies, they found themselves late that evening safely on board the _arrandoon_; and right glad were their comrades to see them again, you may be sure, and to listen to a narration by rory of all their adventures, interlarded by sandy's queer, dry remarks, which only served to render it all the more funny. but before they sat down to the ample supper that peter had prepared for them, rory reported to the captain his great discovery. mcbain's eyes sparkled like live coals as he heard of it, but he said little. he sent quietly for the engineer and the mate. "how soon," he asked the former, "can you get up steam?" "in an hour, sir--easy." "that will do," said the captain. "mr stevenson, when will the moon rise?" "she is rising now, sir." "all right, mr stevenson. have all ready to weigh anchor in two hours' time." "ay, ay, sir!" the engineer still lingered. "i _could_ get up steam in twenty minutes," he said; "those american hams, sir--" "oh, bother the hams?" said the captain, laughing. "no, no; we may be glad of those yet when frozen in at the pole. bear-and-ham pie, engineer; how will that eat, eh?" and he bowed him kindly out. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ by two bells in the middle watch the good ship _arrandoon_ was off the needle rocks of the portland huck. they stood up out of the water like tall sheeted ghosts, with the moonlight and starlight shimmering from their shoulders. the sea was calm, with only a gentle heave on it; and there were but a few snowy clouds in the sky skirting the southern horizon, so the vessel ploughed along as beautifully as any sailor could wish, with a steady, contented throb of engine and gride of screw, leaving in her wake a long silvery line for the moonbeams to dance in. save the noise of the ship's working there was not another sound to be heard, only occasionally a gull would float past overhead emitting a strange and mournful cry. what makes the sea-birds, i have wondered, sometimes leave the rocks at the midnight hour, and go skimming alone through the darkling air, emitting that weird and plaintive wail of theirs? it is a wail that goes directly to one's heart, and you cannot help thinking they must be bereaved ones mourning for their dead. our heroes walked long on deck that night, talking quietly, as became the hour, of the prospects of their having a brush with the pirate. but they got weary at last, and turned in. next morning they found the decks wet and slippery, more clouds in the sky, a fair beam wind blowing, and a trifle of canvas displayed. after breakfast mcbain called all hands aft. in calm, dispassionate language he told them the story of the poor girl who had risked her life on their account, of her murdered brother and captive father, and of the pirate he was about to try to find and capture. then he paused; and as he did so every one of the crew turned eyes on ted wilson, who strode forward. "captain," said ted, firmly, "we didn't sign articles to fight, did we, mates?" "no," from all hands. "_but_," continued ted, "for such a captain as you be, and in such a cause, we _will_ fight, every man jack of us, as long as the saucy _arrandoon_ has a timber above the water. am i right, mates?" a ringing cheer was all the reply, and ted retired. now, reader, were i a landsman novelist i would very likely here make my captain give the orders to "splice the main-brace," but i'm a sailor, and i tell you this, boys, that british seamen never yet needed dutch courage to make them do their duty. captain mcbain only waved a hand and said, "pipe down." an hour afterwards the crow's-nest was rigged and hoisted at the main-truck, and either the mate or the captain was in it off and on the whole day. but no pirate appeared that day nor the next. in the evening, however, some fishermen boarded the _arrandoon_, and reported having seen a large barque, answering to the description of the suspected craft, that same morning lying at anchor off suddersoe, with boats passing to and fro 'twixt ship and shore. "it is my precious opinion, captain," said old magnus bolt, "that this craft does a bit o' smuggling 'tween here and shetland." "and it is my precious opinion, my dear magnus," said mcbain, "that the rascal doesn't care what he does so long as he lands the cash." the _arrandoon_ was now kept away for the island named by the honest fishermen. not straight, however; mcbain gave it a wide berth, and passed it far to the west, and held on his course until many miles to the southward. in the morning it was "bout ship" and stand away north and by east again. they sighted the island about seven bells in the morning watch. suddenly there was a hail from the crow's-nest. it was the captain's voice. "come up here, magnus bolt, if your old bones will let you, and see what you shall see." magnus sprang up the rigging somewhat after the fashion of an antiquated monkey, but with an agility no one would have given him credit for. "it is she!" he shouted, after he had had a look through the long glass in towards the iron-bound shores of the islands; "it is she! it is she! ha! ha! ha!" and he positively danced and chuckled with delight. "you'll fight? you'll fight?" he gasped. "rather," replied mcbain; "but we'll run first. she shall fire the first shot, and, magnus, you shall fire the second." half an hour afterwards, when our heroes came on deck to have their morning look around, they stared at each other in blank astonishment. the _arrandoon_ looked as if she had just come out of a tornado and had been dreadfully handled. the foretop-gallant mast was down, the jibboom inboard, the screw was hoisted up, the funnel itself had been unshipped and was lashed to the deck, and the flag was flying at half-mast, as if the vessel were in distress, or had death on board. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ now let me, with one touch of the fairy wand the storyteller wields, waft my readers on board the pirate herself. fear not, for we will stay there but a brief space of time indeed. the tall and by no means unprepossessing form of the captain, armed _cap-a-pie_, is leaning against the rudder-wheel, one spoke of which he holds. his mate is by his side, glass in hand, examining the _arrandoon_, now only a few miles off. "ha! ha!" says the latter; "it is the same big craft we tried to strand; and she's had dirty weather, too--foretop-gallant mast and jibboom both gone. she is flying a signal of distress." "distress? eh? ha! ha! ha?" laughed the pirate. "isn't it funny? she'll have more of it; won't she, matie mine?" the mate laughed and commenced to sing-- "`won't you walk into my parlour?' said the spider to the fly?" "she's evidently a whaler, crow's-nest and all," he said. "well," said the captain, "we'll _w(h)ale_ her;" and he laughed at his own stupid joke. "i say there, old lantern-jaws," he bawled down the companion. "i reckon," said a yankee voice, "you alludes to this child." "i do," cried the captain; "and look ye here. we are going to fight and so forth. if we're like to be bested, scupper the old man at once. d'ye hear?" "well, i guess i ain't deaf." "very well, then. obey, or a short shrift yours will be." "why, captain," said the mate, "she knows us. she has put about, and is bearing away to the nor'-nor'-west." "then hands up-anchor," cried his superior. "crowd all sail; she can't escape us in her crippled condition." "ah! captain," the mate remarked, "had you taken my advice and given that pretty but sly minx the _sack_, ere she gave you the _slip_, that whaler would have been ours before now." "silence," roared the captain. "on that subject i will not hear a word. she shall be mine yet--or her father dies." with the exception of the few sentences bawled down the companion, all this was said in danish, and my translation is a free one. and so the chase commenced, and seawards before the pirate, in an apparently crippled condition, staggered the _arrandoon_. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "how far do you intend to bring her out?" asked allan. "ten miles clear of these islands, anyhow," replied mcbain, "then she won't be able to play any pranks with us. boys," continued mcbain, a few minutes afterwards, "i'm going to write letters--home." there was nothing very unusual in the tone of his voice as he spoke these words, but there was a meaning in them, nevertheless, that was perfectly understood by our young heroes. they were not long, then, before they were each and all of them seated by the saloon table, inditing, it might or might not be, the last communications to the loved ones at home they _ever_ would pen. they were performing a duty--a sad one, perhaps, but still a duty; they were about to fight in a good cause, doubtless, but the result of the battle was uncertain. the _maelsturm_, for that was the name of the pirate, was better--or rather, i should say, more copiously--manned than the _arrandoon_, and though not so large a ship, she had more guns; her crew too fought with halters round their necks, and would therefore doubtless fight to the bitter end. the only advantage--and it was a great one--possessed by the _arrandoon_ was steam power. hours went by, and the chase was still kept up. it was six bells in the forenoon watch, and the _maelsturm_ was hardly a mile astern. our men had already had dinner, and were all in readiness--waiting, when, borne towards them over the wind-rippled waters from the pirate ship, came the quick, sharp rattle of a kettledrum. one roll, two rolls, three. "at last," said mcbain, "they are beating to quarters." a puff of smoke from the bow of the pirate, the roar of a gun, and almost immediately after a round shot ricocheted past the quarter of the _arrandoon_. the battle was begun. chapter ten. "down with the red flag and up with the black!"--victory--an old acquaintance--hie, for the north. if the crew of the _arrandoon_ needed any stimulus to fight the pirate, beyond the short speech that their captain had made them, it certainly was given them when the order was issued on board the latter craft, "down with the red flag and up with the black!" and the broad, white-crossed ensign of merchant denmark gave place to the hideous skull and cross-bones flown by sea marauders of all nations. she had rounded, too, in order to fire her broadside guns, or this would hardly have been visible. perhaps the pirates imagined it would strike sudden fear into the hearts of those they had elected to consider their foes. hatred and loathing it certainly inspired, but as to fear--well, in the matter of scaring, british sailors are perhaps the most unsatisfactory class of beings in the world. for the next quarter of an hour the doings on board the _arrandoon_, as seen from the pirate's poop, must have considerably astonished--not to say puzzled--the officers of that ship, for in that short space of time what had appeared to be a sadly disabled vessel in distress, had hoisted a funnel, lowered a screw, and, while sail was being taken in, moved slowly away beyond reach of her guns. not for long was she gone, however. she rounded almost on her own length; then, bows on, back she came, black and grim, athirst for vengeance. but the pirate was no coward, and broadside after broadside was poured into the advancing ship, without eliciting a single shot save one. this was the shot--the second shot--that mcbain had promised magnus. it went roaring through the air, crashed through the _maelsturm's_ bulwarks midships, and smashed a boat to flinders. magnus bolt, or "green," as he was better known, old as he was, was by far the best shot in the ship. he and mitchell, the mate, a man of eagle eye and firm of nerve, were the gunners proper, and fired every gun in the fight that followed the second shot. if it were a starboard broadside they were there; if a port, they but crossed the deck to take deadly aim and fire it. "remember, gunners," cried mcbain, "we've got to take that ship, and not to sink her; so waste not a shot between wind and water?" on came the vessels, bow to bow, as arrow might meet arrow, and when within two hundred yards of each other, the _maelsturm_ heading north and west, the _arrandoon_ going full speed south and east, the pirate delivered her broadside, and immediately luffed up and commenced firing with her bow guns. she could get no nearer the wind, however. to go on the other tack would be but to hasten the inevitable. "hard a port! ease her a little! steady as you go!" were the orders from the quarter-deck of the _arrandoon_. "small-arm men to fire wherever head or hand is visible." now the _arrandoon_ delivers her broadside as she again comes parallel with the _maelsturm_, whose sails are all a-shiver. this just by way of confusing her a little. there is worse to come, for the order is now given to double-shot the port dalgrens with canister. away steams the _arrandoon_, and round goes the _maelsturm_. ah! well he knows what the foe intends, but he will try to outmanoeuvre her if he can. but see! the _arrandoon_ is round again; there will be no escaping her this time. fire your bow guns, mr pirate; fire your broadside, you cannot elicit a reply. "sta'board!" cries the captain; "starboard?" he signals, with his calm, uplifted arm. "starboard still! steady now!" then, in a voice of thunder, as they rounded the port quarter of the pirate, and, in spite of all good handling, got momentarily broadside on to her stem, "stand to your guns--_fire_!" when the _arrandoon_ forged ahead clear of the smoke, it was evident from the confusion on board the _maelsturm_, and the dishevelment of running and standing rigging, that the havoc on her decks must have been terrible. she was not beaten, though, as a gun from her broadside soon told. "we'll end this," said the captain to rory, by his side, who had constituted himself clerk, and was coolly taking notes in the very thick of the fight, while shot roared through the ship's rigging and sides, men fell on all hands, and splinters filled the air. "we'll end it in the good old fashion, rory. stand by to grapple with ice-anchors! prepare to board!" now allan and ralph, who had been below assisting the surgeon, heard that word of command, and, just as the sides of the two ships had grated together, after firing their last broadsides, they were both, sword in hand, by their captain's side. mcbain and our heroes were the very first to leap on to the blood-slippery decks of the pirate. the crew of that doomed ship fought for a time like furies--for a time, but only for a time. in less than five minutes every pirate on board was either disarmed or driven below, and the _maelsturm_ was the prize of the gallant _arrandoon_, and her captain himself lay bound on the quarter-deck. but the commander of this pirate ship was the very last man on board of her to yield. even when the battle was virtually ended, as fiercely as a lion at bay he fought on his own quarter-deck, mcbain himself being his antagonist. the latter could have shot him down had he been so minded, but he was not the man to take a mean advantage of a foe. the pirate was taller than mcbain, but not so well built nor so muscular. they were thus pretty well matched, and as they fought, round and round the quarter-deck, a more beautiful display of swordsmanship was perhaps never witnessed. once the pirate tripped and fell, mcbain lowered his weapon until he had regained his feet, then swords clashed again and sparks flew. but see, the captain of the _arrandoon_ clasps his claymore double-handed; he uses it hatchet fashion almost. he looks in his brawny might as if he could fell trees. the pirate cannot withstand the shock of the terrible onslaught, but he makes up in agility what he lacks in strength. he is borne backward and backward round the companion, mcbain "showering his blows like wintry rain;" and now at last victory is his, the pirate's sword flies into flinders, our captain drops his claymore and springs empty-handed on his adversary, and next moment dashes him to the deck, where he lies stunned and bleeding, and before he can recover consciousness he is bound and helpless. ralph, allan, and rory, none of whom, as providence so willed it, are wounded, and who had been silent spectators of the duel, now crowd around their captain, and shake his willing hand. "heaven," says mcbain, "has given the enemy into our hands, boys, but there is now much to be done. let us buckle to it without a moment's delay. the wounded are to be seen to, both our own and the pirate's, the decks cleared, and everything made shipshape, and, if all goes well, we'll anchor with our prize to-morrow at reikjavik." "and the clergyman, captain, the clergyman, the poor girl's father?" exclaimed rory. "ay, ay, boy rory," said mcbain; "he is doubtless on the vessel. we will proceed at once to search for him." if fiends ever laugh, reader, it must be with some such sound as that which now proceeded from the larynx of the pirate captain; if fiends ever smile, it must be with the same sardonic expression that now spread itself over his features. all eyes were instantly turned towards him. he had raised himself to the sitting position. "ha! ha! ha!" he chuckled, while, manacled though his wrists were, he drew his right forefinger rapidly across his throat, uttering, as he did so, these words, "your padre; ha! ha! dead--dead--dead." his listeners were horrified. what mcbain's reply would have been none can say. it was not needed, for at that very moment, ere the exultant grin had vanished from the wretch's face, there sprang on deck from the companion a figure, tall and gaunt, clad from top to toe in skins. he knelt on the deck in front of the pirate, the better to confront him. with forefinger raised, "he held him with his glittering eye," while he addressed him as follows: "look here, mister pirate, i was going to use strong language, but i won't, though i guess and calculate mild words are wasted on sich as you. the parson ain't dead; ne'er a hair on his reverend head. ye thought i'd scupper him, didn't you, soon's the ship was taken? ye thought this child was your slave, didn't ye? ha! ha! though, he has rounded on ye at last, and if that bit of black rag weren't enough to hang you and your wretched crew of cutthroats, here in front o' ye kneels one witness o' your dirty deeds, and the other will be on deck in a minute in the person o' the parson you thought dead. how d'ye like it, eh?" and the speaker once more stood erect, and confronted our heroes. "seth!" they ejaculated, in one voice. "seth! by all that is marvellous!" said mcbain, clutching the old man by the right hand, while rory seized his left, and allan and ralph got hold of an arm each. "ah! gentlemen," said honest seth--and there was positively a tear in his eye as he spoke--"it's on occasions like these that one wishes he had four hands,--a hand for every friend. yes, i reckon it is seth himself, and nary a one else. you may well say wonders will never cease. you may well ask me how on earth i came here. it war providence, gentlemen, and nuthin' else, that i knows on. it war providence sent that cut-throat skipper to the land where you left me on the _snowbird_, though i didn't think so at the time, when they burned and pillaged my hut and killed poor old plunkett, nor when they carried me a prisoner on board the _maelsturm_. they meant to scupper old seth. they did talk o' bilin' his old bones in whale oil, but they soon found out he could heal a hole in a hide as well as make one, and so, gentlemen, i've been surgeon-in-chief to this craft for nine months and over. yes, it war providence and nuthin' else, and i knew it war as soon as i saw your ship heave in sight, the day they guessed they'd wreck ye. the parson's daughter, poor little dunette, war on board then. i sent her to save ye; and when i heard your voice, captain mcbain, on the reef, i felt sure it war providence then, and i kind o' prayed in my rough way that he might spare ye. shake hands, gentlemen, again. bother these old eyes o' mine; they will keep watering." and seth drew his sleeve rapidly across his face as he spoke. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ rory was a proud--boy, ahem! well, _man_, then, if you will have it so, when that same afternoon he was put on board the _maelsturm_, as captain of her, with a picked crew from the _arrandoon_, and with orders to make all sail for reikjavik. mcbain's last words to him were these,-- "keep your weather eye lifting, captain roderick elphinston. clap two sentries on those ruffianly prisoners of yours, and let your men sleep with their cutlasses by their sides and their revolvers under their heads." "ay, ay, sir!" said rory. rory allowed his crew to sleep, but he himself paced the deck all the livelong night. occasionally he could see the lights of the _arrandoon_ far on ahead; but towards morning the weather got thick and somewhat squally, and at daylight the _maelsturm_ seemed alone on the ocean. sail was taken in, but the ship kept her course, and just in the even-glome rory ran into the bay of reikjavik, and dropped anchor, and shortly after a boat came off from the _arrandoon_ with both allan and ralph in it, to congratulate the boy-captain on the success of his, first voyage as skipper-commandant. next day both the pirate vessel and her captor were show-ships for the people--all the _elite_ and beauty of reikjavik crowded off from the shore in dozens to see them. the dilapidated condition of the _maelsturm_, her broken bulwarks, rent rigging, and shivered spars, showed how fierce the fight had been. nor were evidences of the struggle wanting on board the _arrandoon_, albeit the men had been hard at work all the day making good repairs. the dead were buried at sea; the wounded were mostly sent on shore. five poor fellows belonging to mcbain's ship would never fight again, and many more were placed for a time _hors de combat_. as to the prisoners, they were transferred to a french ship that lay at reikjavik, and that in the course of a week sailed with them for denmark. seth and the officers of the _arrandoon_ made and signed depositions; and in addition to this, as evidence against the pirates, the old clergyman and his daughter dunette, now joyfully reunited, went along with the frenchman, while, with a crew from shore, the _maelsturm_ left some days after. the black flag had never been lowered, nor was it until the day the pirate captain and many of his crew expiated their long list of crimes on the scaffold at the holms of copenhagen. poor dunette, the tears fell unheeded from her sad blue eyes as she bade farewell to our heroes on the deck of the _arrandoon_. she did not say good-bye to the surgeon, however--at least not there. he had begged for a boat, and accompanied her on board the vessel in which she was to sail. have they a secret, we wonder? is it possible that our quiet surgeon has won the heart of this beautiful fair-haired danish maiden? these are questions we must not seek answer to now, but time may tell. not until the pirate ship had left the bay, and the wounded were so far convalescent as to be brought once more on board, did the old peace and quiet settle down upon the good ship _arrandoon_. and now once more all was bustle and stir; in a day or two they would start for the far north, and bid adieu to civilisation--a long but not, they hoped, a last adieu. the very evening before they sailed, a farewell party was given on board the _arrandoon_. the decks were tented over with canvas lined with flags, and the whole scene was gay and festive in the extreme. poetic rory could not have believed that there was so much female youth and loveliness in this primitive little town of reikjavik. no wonder that day was dawning in the east ere the last boat of laughing and merry guests left for the shore. many and many a time afterwards, when surrounded by dangers innumerable, when beset in ice, when engulfed in darkness and storm, in the mysterious regions of the pole, did they look back with pleasure to that last happy night spent in the bay of reikjavik. but see, it is twelve o'clock by the sun. flags are floating gaily on the fort, on the little church tower, and on every eminence in or near the town, and the beach and snow-clad rocks are lined with an excited crowd. hands and handkerchiefs are waved, and with the farewell cheers the far-off hills resound. then our brave fellows man the rigging and waft them back cheer for cheer, as the noble vessel cleaves the waters of the bay, and stands away for the northern ocean. chapter eleven. the voyage resumed--a pleasant evening--"those rushing winds"--the "arrandoon" grows saucy--the doctor spread-eagled--a school of whales. ere the day had worn to a close, before the sun went down in a golden haze, leaving one long line of crimson cloud, as earnest of a bright to-morrow, the _arrandoon_, steaming twelve knots to the hour, was once more far away at sea, and the rugged mountains of iceland could hardly be descried. as night fell a breeze sprang up, and as there was little doubt it would freshen ere long--for it blew from the east-south-east, and the glass had slightly gone down, with the mercury still concave at top--captain mcbain gave orders for the fires to be banked, and as much canvas spread as she could comfortably carry. "just make her snug, you know, mr stevenson," said mcbain, "for the night will be dark, and we may have more wind before the middle watch." "and troth," said rory to his companions, "if the ship is to be made snug, i don't see why we shouldn't make ourselves snug for the night too." ralph was gazing down through the skylight at the brilliantly-lighted saloon, where peter, with the aid of the assistant-steward and freezing powders, was busy laying the cloth for dinner. "i've just come from forward," replied ralph, in raptures, "where i've been sniffing the roast beef and the boiled potatoes; and now just look below, rory,--look how peter's face beams with intelligent delight; see how radiant freezing powders is; behold how merrily the flames dance on that fire of fires in the stove, and how the coloured crystal shimmers, and the bright silver shines on that cloth of spotless snow! yes, rory, you're right, boy--let us make ourselves snug for the night. so down we go, and dress our smartest--for, mind, boys, there is going to be company to-night." yes, there was going to be company; five were all that as a rule sat down to table in the grand saloon, but to-night the covers were laid for five more, namely stevenson, seth, old magnus, and ap, and last, though not least, de vere, the french aeronaut. the cook of the _arrandoon_ had been chosen specially by ralph himself. need i say, then, that he was an artist? and to-night he had done his best to outshine himself, and, i think, succeeded. i think, too, that when peter went forward, some time after the great joints had been put on the table, and told him that everything was going on "as merrily as marriage bells," and that the gentlemen were loud in their praises of ralph's cook, that that cook was about the happiest man in the ship. peter had not exaggerated a bit either, for everything did go off well at this little dinner-party. it would have done your heart good to have seen the beaming countenances of little ap, old man magnus, and honest trapper seth; and to have noticed how often they passed their plates for another help would have made you open your eyes with wonder--that is, if you never had been to greenland; but had you made the voyage north polewards even once, you would have known that of all countries in the world that is just the place to give man or boy a healthy appetite. when the cloth was removed and dessert placed upon the table they seemed happier than ever, if that were possible, and smiles and jokes and jocund yarns ere the order of the evening. after every good story the cockatoo helped himself to an immense mouthful of hemp-seed, and cried,-- "dea-ah me! well, well, but go on, _go on_--next." and as to freezing powders, he was so amazed at many things he heard, that more than a dozen times in one hour he had to refresh himself by standing on his head in a corner of the saloon. "well, well, well!" said mcbain, taking the advantage of a mere momentary lull in this feast of reason and flow of soul, "and what a strange mixture of nationalities we are, to be sure! here is our bold, quiet ralph, english to the spine--" "and i," said rory, "i'm oirish to the chine." "that you are," assented mcbain; "and allan and myself here are scotch; and if you look farther along the table there is wales represented in the form of cool, calculating, mathematical ap; shetland in the shape of our brave gunner magnus; france in the form of friend de vere; and the mightiest republic in the world in seth's six feet and odd inches; to say nothing of africa standing on its head beside polly's cage. freezing powders, you young rascal, drop on to your other end; don't you see you're making polly believe the world is upside down? look at her hanging by the feet with her head down!" "dat cockatoo not a fool, sah," said freezing powders; "he know putty well what he am about, sah!" "d'ye know," said ralph, looking smilingly towards seth, "it is quite like old times to see seth once more in the midst of us?" "and oh!" said seth, rubbing his hands, while a modest smile stole over his wiry face, "mebbe this old trapper ain't a bit pleased to meet ye all again. gentlemen, seth and civilisation hain't been 'cquaintances very long; skins seem to suit this child better'n the fine toggery ye've rigged him out in. but ye've made him feel a deal younger, and he guesses and calculates he may die 'pectable yet." i fear it was pretty far into the middle watch ere our friends parted and betook themselves to their berths. two bells had gone--"the wee short hoor ayont the twal"--when mcbain rose from the table, this being a signal for general good-nights. "i'm going part of the way home with you, old man," he said to magnus, and with his arm placed kindly over his shoulder he left the saloon with the brave wee shetlander. "two turns on the deck, magnus," he continued, "and then you can turn in. and so, you say, in all your experience--and it has been very vast, hasn't it, my friend?" "that it has, sir," replied magnus. "i may say i was born in these seas, for the first thing i remember--when our ship went down under us in the pack north of jan mayen--is my father, bless him! putting me in a carpetbag for safety, to carry me on to the ice with him. yes, sir, yes." "and in all your experience," mcbain went on, "you don't remember a season likely to have been more favourable for our expedition to the north pole than the present?" "i don't, sir--i don't," said little magnus, "look, see, sir, the frost has been extreme all over the north. in the arctic regions the ice has been all of a heap like. it isn't yet loosened. we haven't met a berg yet. funny, ain't it, sir?--queer, isn't it, cap'n?" "it is strange," said mcbain; "and from this what do you anticipate?" "anticipate isn't the word, cap'n," cried magnus, fixing mcbain by the right arm, stopping his way, and emphasising his words with wildfire glints from his warlock eyes. "anticipate?--bah! cap'n--bah! i'm old enough to be your grandfather. ask me rather what i _augur_? and i answer this, i augur a glorious summer. ice loosened before may-day. fierce heat south of england, and consequently rarefaction of the atmosphere, and rushing winds from the far north to fill up the heated vacuum--rushing winds to trundle the icebergs south before them--rushing winds to split the packs, and rend the floes, and open up a passage for this brave ship to the far-off isle of alba." "bless you, magnus! give us your hand, my old sea-dad. you always gave me comfort, even when i was a boy in the wilds of spitzbergen. you taught me to splice, and reef, and steer. bless you, magnus! i couldn't have sailed without you." "but stay, my son, stay," continued this weird little man, holding up a warning finger; "those rushing winds--" "yes, magnus?" "they will bring danger on their wings." "i'll welcome it, magnus," laughed mcbain. "those rushing winds will tear down on us, hurricane-high, tempest-strong. the great bergs, impelled by force of wind and might of wave, will dash each other to atoms." "all the better for us, daddy magnus," said the captain. "were your voice as loud as cannon's roar you will be as one dumb amid the turmoil." "then i'll steer by signs," said mcbain. "should our ship escape destruction, we will be enveloped by fogs, encircled by a darkness that will be felt." "then we'll heave-to and wait till they evaporate. but there, my good magnus, you see i'm not afraid of anything. i'd be unworthy of such a sea-dad as you if i were; so no more tragic airs, please. thou mindest me, old magnus, of the scene between lochiel and the wizard. "`lochiel, lochiel, beware of the day when the lowlands shall meet you in battle array,' "says the wizard, and so on and so forth. "`false wizard, avaunt!' replies lochiel, and all the rest of it, you know. but, beloved magnus, i don't _say_ `avaunt!' to you. but just see how the cold spray is dashing inboard. so, not to put too poetic a point on it, i simply say, `go down below, old man, and don't get wet, else your joints will ache in the morning with the rheumatiz.'" the morning broke beautifully fine and clear, the reefs were shaken out of the topsails, topgallant-sails and royals were set, and, indeed, all the square cloth she could carry, and away went the _arrandoon_ before the wind, as happy, to all appearance, as the malleys and gulls that seemed to play at hide-and-seek with her, behind the comb-crested seas of olive-green. ralph and allan, arm-in-arm, were marching rapidly up and down one side of the quarter-deck, rory and mcflail on the other, and ever and anon a merry laugh from some one of them rang out bright and joyously on the fresh frosty air. towards noon stunsails were set, and the _arrandoon_ looked more like a sea-bird than ever; she even seemed to sing to herself--so thought rory and so thought the doctor--as she went nodding and curtseying along over the waves, with now a bend to starboard, and now a lean to port; now lowering her bows till the seas ahead looked mountains high, and anon giving a dip waterwards till her waist was wet with the seething spray, and her lower stunsail-booms seemed to tickle the very breast of old mother ocean. the wind was increasing, and there were times when our boys had to pause in their walk and grapple the mizzen rigging, laughing at each other as they did so. "wo ho, my beauty?" said mcbain. "mr mitchell, i daresay we must take in sail." "i'm afraid so, sir," replies mitchell; "but--" and here he eyes the bellowing canvas--"it do seem a pity, sir, don't it?" but here "my beauty" gives a vicious plunge forwards, elevating herself aft like a kicking mare, and shipping tons of water over her bows. "i don't want to be wicked," the ship seems to say, "and i don't want to lose a spar, though i _could_ kick one off as easy as a daddy-longlegs gets rid of a limb; but if you don't ease me a bit i'll--" a bigger and more decided plunge into the sea, followed by a rising of her jibboom zenithwards, and the water comes roaring aft in one great bore, which seeks exit by the quarter-deck scupper-holes, and goes tumbling down the companion ladder, to the indignation of peter and the disgust of freezing powders, who is standing on his head in an attitude of contemplation, and ships a green sea down his nostrils. our heroes leap in time on to the top of the skylight, and there sit grinning delightedly as the waters go roaring past them, and floating thereon evidence enough that the men had been preparing dinner when neptune boarded them, for yonder float potatoes and turnips and cabbages, to say nothing of a leg of highland mutton and a six-pound piece of bacon. "hands, shorten sail!" but next day--so changeable is a sailor's life--the wind had all got bottled up again or gone back to its cave; the sea was smooth as glass, and steam was up, but the sky was still clear, and the sun undimmed by the slightest haze. just before lunch came the first signs that ice was not far ahead. the _arrandoon_ encountered a great "stream," as it is called, of deep, snowy slush--i do not know what else to call it. it stretched away eastwards to westwards, as far as the eye from the crow's-nest could reach, and it was probably nine or ten miles wide. it lessened the good ship's way considerably, you may be sure. her bows clove through it with a brushing sound; her screw revolved in it with a noise like dead leaves stirred by autumn winds. "losh!" cried sandy, the surgeon, looking curiously overboard, "what's this noo? wonders will never cease!" "och, sure!" replied rory, mischievously, "you know well enough what it is; it's only speaking for speaking's sake you are." "the ne'er a bone o' ma knows, i do assure ye," said sandy. "well, doctor dear," said rory, "it is simply the belt, or zone, that geographers call the `arctic circle.'" but sandy looked at him with a pitying smile. "man--rory?" he said, "i'm no' so sea-green as you tak me to be. i've a right good mind to pu' your lugs. young men, sir, dinna enter aberdeen university stirks and come out cuddies?" "mon!" cried rory, imitating sandy's brogue, "if ye want to pu' my lugs you'll hae to catch me first;" and off he went round the deck, with the doctor after him. but ralph caught him, if sandy couldn't, and handed him over to justice. "now," cried the surgeon, catching him by the ear, "whistle, and i'll let you free." it is no easy matter to whistle when you want to laugh, but when rory at long last did manage to emit a labial note that passed muster as a whistle, the doctor was as good as his word, and rory was free. luncheon was barely finished, when down from the crow's-nest rang the welcome hail, "ice ahead!" our heroes rushed on deck, mcbain was there before them, and when they stepped on to the "lid" of the ship, as sandy once called the deck, they found the captain half-way up to the nest. there wasn't a bit of ice to be seen from the deck. "hurrah for the foretop?" cried rory, laying hold of a stay. "who's coming?" "i will!" cried allan. "i'm going below to finish lunch," said ralph. "i'll be safer on deck, i think," said the canny doctor. but when rory on the foretop struck an attitude of wonderment, and pointing away ahead, exclaimed, in rapture, "oh, boys, what a scene is here!" the doctor thought he would give anything for a peep, so he summoned up his courage and began to ascend the rigging, slowly, and with about as much grace in his actions as a mud turtle would exhibit under the like circumstances. allan roared, "good doctor! good! bravo, old man! heave round like a brick! don't look down." rory was in a fit of merriment, and trying to stifle himself with his handkerchief. suddenly down dropped that handkerchief; and this was just the signal four active lads were waiting for. up they sprang like monkeys behind the surgeon, who had hardly reached the lubber-hole. alas! the good medico didn't reach it that day, for before you could have said "cutlass" he was seized, hand and foot, and lashed to the rigging, saint andrew's-cross fashion. the surgeon of the _arrandoon_ was spread-eagled, and rory, the wicked boy! had his revenge. "my conscience!" cried sandy; "what next, i wonder?" "it's a vera judeecious arrangement," sung rory from the top. but the men were not hard on the worthy doctor, and the promise of several ounces of nigger-head procured him his freedom, and he soon regained the deck, a sadder and a wiser man. they were quickly among the ice--not bergs, mind you, only a stream of bits and pieces, of every shape and form, some like sheep and some like swans, and some like great white oxen. here was a piece like a milking-pail; here was a lump like a hay-cock; yonder a gondola; yonder a boat; and yonder a couch on which the naiades might recline and float, or ino slumber. it was rory who made the last remark. "and by this and by that!" he exclaimed, "there is a naiad on it now! or it's ino herself, by all that's amusing!" "away, second whaler!"--this from mcbain. "get your rifle, boy rory, and jump on board and fetch that seal!" down rattled the boat from the davits, rory in the bows; the next moment she was off, and tearing through the glazed water as fast as sturdy arms could row. the seal took one look up to see what was coming. rory's rifle rang out sharp and clear in the frosty air, and the poor seal never lifted head again. the ship was by this time a goodly mile ahead, but there she stopped; then she went ahead again, rounded, and came back full speed to meet the boat, for they on board could see a danger that rory couldn't--couldn't, did i say? ah! but he soon did, and, with the roar of a maelstrom, down they came upon him--an enormous school of whales! the men lay on their oars thunderstruck. the sea around them seemed alive with the mighty monsters. how they plunged and ploughed and snorted and blew! the sea became roughened, as if a fierce wind was blowing over it; pieces of ice as large as boats were caught on the backs or tails of these brutes and pitched aside as one might a football. it occurred to rory to fire at some of them. "stay, stay!" roared the coxswain; "if you love your life, sir, and care for ours, fire not. _you_ may never have seen a whale angry--i have. fire not, i beseech you!" it was a strange danger to have encountered, and rory and his boat-mates were not sorry when it passed, and they once more stood in safety on the deck of the _arrandoon_. but rory soon regained his equanimity. "five hundred whales!" he cried; "and they were all mine, ralph, 'cause i found them! sure, they were worth a million of money?" "so you've been a millionaire, rory?" said mcbain. "yes, worse luck!" said rory, in a voice of comic sadness, "a millionaire for a minute!" chapter twelve. the isle of jan mayen--retrospection--the sea of ice--the deserted village--carried off by a bear--dancing for dear life. what a tiny speck it looks in the map, that island of jan mayen, all by itself, right in the centre of the great arctic ocean. of volcanic origin it undoubtedly is--every mountain, rock, and hill in it--and there is ample evidence that from yonder gigantic cone, that rises, like a mighty sugar-loaf or the tower of babel itself, to a height of , feet sheer into the blue and cloudless sky, at one time smoke and flames must oftentimes have burst, and showers of stones and ashes, and streams of molten lava. i have gazed on it by night, and my imagination has carried me back, and back, and back, through the long-distant past, and i have tried to fancy the sublimity of the scene during an eruption. the time is early spring. the long, dark winter has passed away; the cold-looking, rayless sun rises now, but skirts hurriedly across a small disc of southern sky, then speedily sinks to rest again, as though he shuddered to gaze upon scenery so bleak and desolate. the island of jan mayen, with its ridgy hills and its one mighty mountain, is clad in dazzling robes of virgin snow. its rocky and precipitous shores rise not up, as yet, from the dark waters that in summer time wash round them, but from the sea of ice itself. as far as eye can reach, or north or south, or east or west, stretches this immeasurable ocean of ice. all flat and all snow-clad is it, like the wildest and loneliest of highland moorlands in winter, and its very flatness gives it an air of greater lonesomeness, which the solitary hummocks here and there but tend to heighten. and through the short and dreary day one solitary cloud has rested like a pall on the summit of the mountain. but it is midnight now: in the deep blue of the sky big, bright stars are shining, that look like moons of molten silver, and seem far nearer than they do in southern climes. in the north the radiant bow of the aurora is spread out, its transverse beams glancing and glistering, spears of light, that dance and glide and shimmer, changing their colours every moment from green to blue or red, from pale-yellow to the brightest of crimson. and the silence that reigns over all this field of ice is one that travellers have often experienced, often been impressed and awed by, but never yet found words to describe. silence did i say? yes! but listen! subterranean thunders suddenly break it--thunders coming evidently from the bosom of the great mountain yonder, thunders that shake and crack and rend the very ice on which you stand, causing the bergs to grind and shriek like monsters in agony. the great cloud pall has risen higher and spread itself out, and now hangs horizontally over half the island, black and threatening, its blackness lit up ever and anon with flashes of lightning, sheet and forked, while, peal after peal, the thunder now rolls almost without intermission. and onward and onward rolls the cloud athwart the sky, blotting out the starlight--blotting out the beautiful aurora--till the sea of ice for leagues around is canopied in darkness. but behold, over the mountain-top the cloud gets lighter in colour, for immense volumes of steam, solid sheets of water, and pieces of ice tons in weight, are being belched forth, or hurtled into the air with a continued noise that drowns the awful rhythm of the thunder itself. then flames follow, shooting up into the sky many hundreds of feet, lighting up the scene with a lurid glare, while down the snow-clad sides of the great cone streams of fiery lava rush in fury, crimson, blue, or green. and gigantic rocks are precipitated into the air--rocks so large that, as they fall upon the ice miles distant from the burning crater, they smash the heaviest floes, and sink through into the sea. great stones, too, are incessantly emitted, like balls of fire, that burst in the air, and keep up a sound like that of the loudest artillery. the sun will rise in due course, but his beams cannot penetrate the veil of saturnine darkness that envelops the sea of ice. and the fire will rage, the thunders will roll, and showers of stones and ashes fall for days, ay, mayhap for weeks or months, ere the mighty convulsion ceases, and silence once more reigns in and around this island of jan mayen. towards this lonely isle of the ocean the _arrandoon_ had been beating and pushing her way for days; and she now lay, with clewed sails and banked fires, among the flat but heavy bergs not five miles from it. there was no water in sight, for the iceless ocean had been left far, far astern, and the ship was now to all intents and purposes beset. yet the ice was loose; it was not welded together by the fingers of king frost, and if it remained so, the difficulty of getting out into the clear water again would be by no means insurmountable. our heroes, the doctor included, were all on deck, dressed to kill, in caps of fur with ear lapels, coats of frieze with pockets innumerable, with boots that reached over the knees, and each was armed with a rifle and seal-club, with revolver in belt and short sheath-knife dangling from the left side. "and so," said the doctor, "this is the mighty sea of ice that i've heard so much about! man! boys! i'm no so vera muckle struck with it. it is not unlike my father's peat moss in the dreary depths of winter. where are the lofty pinnacled bergs i expected to see, the rocks and towers of ice, the green glistening gables, and the tall spires, like a hundred cathedrals dang into one?" "ah!" said mcbain, laughing, "just bide a wee, doctor lad, till we go farther north, and if you don't see ice that will outdo your every dream of romance, i'm neither scot nor sailor. "but what is this?" continued the captain. "who in the name of all that is marvellous have we here?" "i 'spects i'se freezin' powders, sah," was the reply of the little negro boy. "leastways i hopes i is." here the urchin touched his cap. "freezin' powders, at your service, sah--your under-steward and butler, sah?" "well, my under-steward and butler," said mcbain; "but whoever could have expected to see you rigged out in this fashion--pilot suit, fur cap, boots, and all complete? why, who dressed you, my little freezin' powders?" "de minor ole gem'lam," replied the boy; "but don't dey fit, sah? don't dey become dis chile? look heah, sah!" and freezing powders went strutting up and down the quarter-deck, as proud as a pouter pigeon; and finished off by presenting arms with his seal-club in front of his good-natured captain. "well," said mcbain, much amused, "you are a comical customer. by `the minor ole gem'lam' i suppose you mean honest magnus? but your english is peculiar, youngster." "my english is puffuk, sah!" replied the boy; "but lo! sah! suppose i not have dis suit of close, i freeze, sah! i no longer be freezin' powders, 'cause i freeze all up into one lump, sah! now, sah, i can go on shoh wid de oder officers." "ho! ho!" laughed mcbain; "the _other_ officers. it's come to that, has it? but," he added, turning to allan and rory, "you'll look after the lad, won't you?" "that will we," said both in a breath. here are the names of those who went on shore in jan mayen on this memorable day--allan, ralph, rory, seth, and the doctor, with three club-armed retainers, and lastly, freezing powders himself. they were a merry band. you could have heard them laughing and talking when they were miles away from the ship. they had to leap from one piece of ice to another; but as the bergs were from forty to fifty feet square--thus affording them a good run for their leaps--and as the pieces were pretty closely packed, jumping was no great hardship. when now and then they came to a bit of water that required a tolerable spring to get over, tall ralph vaulted first, then brawny-chested allan pitched freezing powders after him, whom ralph caught as easily as if he had been a cricket-ball. they landed on the island in a kind of bay, where the land sloped down to the snow-clad beach. not far from the sea they were much surprised to find the ruins of huts that had been. no smoke issued therefrom now, but there was ample proof that roaring fires had once burned in each hut. they were partly underground, and though built of wood and sealskins they were thatched and fortified with snow. the largest cot of all was in the centre, and entering this they found a key to the seeming mystery, for here were evidences of civilisation. pots and pans stood on the empty hearth; a chair or two, a truckle bed, a deal table and a book-cupboard, formed the furniture, and to cap all a written document was found, which informed them that this village had been the encampment for the summer months of a party of american walrus-hunters, the captain of which had aided science by making innumerable observations of a meteorological and scientific nature. "i reckon," said seth, "there ain't many parts o' the world where my enterprising countrymen hain't shown their noses." "all honour to them for that same," said rory; "and troth, there isn't a mightier nation on the face of the earth bar the kingdom of ireland." "now, look here," said allan, "this wee chap, freezing powders, will be far too tired if he goes with us; and here, by good luck, is a frozen ham in this enterprising yankee's cupboard. i move we light a fire, hang it over it, and leave the little black butler as cook till we come back." "bravo!" said ralph. "allan, you're a brick. you won't be afraid, will you, freezing powders?" "i stop and do de cookin', plenty quick," answered the boy, briskly. "freezin' powders never was afraid of nuffin in his life." so the fire was lighted--there was fuel enough in the hut to keep it going for a month; then, leaving the boy to watch the ham, away went our explorers, upwards and onwards, through the ruggedest glens imaginable; winding round rocks and hills of ice and snow, they soon lost sight of the primitive village, the distant ship, and the sea of ice itself. they wandered on and on for miles, pausing often to allow rory to make a sketch of some more than usually wild and fantastic group of ice-clad rocks or charming bit of scenery; but wherever they went, or whichever way they turned, there loomed the great mountain cone of jan mayen above them. the scene was everywhere silent and desolate in the extreme, for not a breath of wind was blowing, not a cloud was in the sky, and no sign of life was there to greet them, not even a solitary gull or snowbird. it wanted two good hours to sunset when they once more returned to the deserted village, eager to test the flavour of the yankee's ham, for walking on the snow had given them the appetite of healthy hunters. their astonishment as well as horror may be imagined when, on entering the hut, they found a scene of utter confusion. the fire still burned, it is true, and yonder hung the ham; but the table and chairs were overturned, and the contents of even the rude bookcase scattered about the floor. _and freezing powders was gone_! he had been carried off by a bear. of this there was plenty of testimony, if only in the huge footprints of the monster, which he had left in the snow. not very distinct were they, however, for the surface of the snow was crisp and hard. but seth was equal to the occasion, and at once--walking in a bee line, the trapper leading--they set out to track the bear, if possible, to his lair. the footprints led them southwards and west, through a region far more wild than that which they had already traversed. for a whole hour they walked in silence, until they found themselves at the top of a ravine, the rocks of which joined to form a sort of triangle. half-roofed over was this triangle with a balcony of frozen snow, from which descended immense icicles, on which the roof leant, forming a kind of verandah. seth paused, and pointed upwards. "the b'ar is yonder!" he whispered. "stay here; the old trapper's feet are moccasined, he won't be heard. gentlemen, seth means to have that b'ar, or he won't come back alive!" so leaving his companions, onwards, all alone, steals seth. a bear itself could not have crept more silently, more cautiously along than the trapper does. those left behind waited in a fever of almost breathless suspense. the doctor stretched out his arm and took gentle hold of rory's wrist. his pulse was over a hundred; so was the doctor's own, and he could easily hear his heart beat. how slowly old seth seems to move. he is on hands and knees now, and many a listening pause he makes. now he has reached the edge of the icy verandah, and peers carefully over. the bear is there, undoubtedly, for, see, he gives one anxious glance at his rifle--it is a double-barrelled bone-crusher. crang-r-r-r! goes the rifle, and every rock in the island seems to re-echo the sound. the reverberation has not ceased, however, when there mingles with it a roar--a blood-curdling roar--that seems to shake the very ground. "wah-o-ah! waugh! waugh! wah-o?" and a great pale-yellow bear springs from the cave, then falls, quivering and bleeding, on his side in the snow. our heroes rush up now. "any more of them?" cries rory. "wall, i guess not," said the old trapper. "yonder lies the master; i've given him a sickener; and the missus ain't at home. but there is suthin' black in thar, though!" "why," cried allan, "i declare it is freezing powders himself!" and out into the bright light stalked the poor nigger boy, staring wildly round about, and seemingly in a dream. "ah, gem'lams!" he said, slowly, "so you have come at last! what a drefful, _drefful_ fright dis poor chile have got! 'spect i'll nebber get ober it; nebber no more!" "come along," said ralph. "get on top of my shoulder. that's the style! you can tell us all about it when we reach the village." "now," cried allan, "look alive, lads, and whip old bruin out of his skin, and bring along his jacket and paws!" when they did get back to the hut, and poor freezing powders had warmed himself and discussed a huge slice of broiled ham and a captain's biscuit, the boy got quite cheery again, and proceeded to relate his terrible adventure. "you see, gem'lams," he said, "soon as ebber you leave me i begin for to watch de ham, and turn he round and round plenty much, and make de fire blaze like bobbery. mebbe one whole hour pass away. de flames dey crack, and de ham he frizzle. den all to once i hear somebody snuff-snuffing like, and i look round plenty quick, and dere was--oh! dat great big awful bear--bigger dan a gator [alligator]. didn't i scream and run jus'! and de bear he knock down de chairs and de tables, and den he catchee me in his mouf, all de same i one small mouse and he one big cat. you see, gem'lam, he smell de ham. `dat bery nice,' he tink, `but de nigga boy better.' so he take dis chile. he nebber have take one nigga boy before dis, praps. den he run off wid me ober de mountains. he no put one tooth in me all de time. when he come to de cave he put me down and snuff me. den he say to himself, `i want some fun; i make play wid dis nigga boy befoh i gobbles 'im up.' so he make me run wid his big foot, and when i run away den he catchee me again, and he keep me run away plenty time, till i so tired i ready to drop. [greenland bears have been known to play this cat-and-mouse game with seals before devouring them.] all de same, i not want to be gobble up too soon, gem'lams, so i make all de fun i can. i stand on my head, and i run on my four feet. i jump and i kick, and i dance, and i sing to de tune ob-- "`plenty quick, nigga boy, plenty fast you run, de bear will nebber gobble you up so long's you make de fun.' "den de big, ugly yellow bear he berry much tickled, and he tink to hisself, `well,' he tink, `'pon my word and honah! i nebber see nuffin like dis before--not in all my born days! i not eat dis nigga boy up till my mudder come home.' and all de time i make dance and sing-- "`quicker, quicker, nigga boy, faster, faster go, amoosin' ob de ole bear, among de ahtic snow. "`jing-a-ring, a-ring-a-ring, sich somersaults i frow, in all his life dis nigger chile ne'er danced like dis befoh.' "but now, gem'lams, i notice dat de bear he begin to make winkee-winkee wid both his two eyes. den i dance all de same, but i begin to sing more slow and plaintive, gem'lams-- "`oh! i'm dreaming 'bout my mudder dear dat i leave on afric's shoh, and de little hut among de woods dat i ne'er shall see no moh. "`sierra-lee-le-ohney, sierra-lee-leon, ah! who will feed de cockatoo when i is dead and gone?' "dat song fix de yellow bear, gem'lams. he no winkee no more now; he sleep sound and fast, wid his big head on his big paws. den i sing one oder verse, and i sleep, too, and i not hear nuffin more until de rifles make de bobbery and de yellow bear begin to cough." "bravo!" cried ralph, when freezing powders had finished his story. "now, allan, lad, cut us all another slice of that glorious ham, and let us be moving." "yes," said allan. "here goes, then, for night is falling already, and the captain will be longing to hear of our adventures." chapter thirteen. more about freezing powders--"perseverando"--dining in the sky--the descent of the crater. a black man in a barrel of treacle is said by some to be emblematical of happiness. so situated, a black man without doubt enjoys a deal of bliss, but i question very much if it equals the joy poor freezing powders felt when he found himself once more safe on board the _arrandoon_, and cuddled down in a corner with his old cockatoo. [it may be as well to state here that neither the negro boy nor the cockatoo is a character drawn at random; both had their counterparts in real life.] what a long story he had to tell the bird, to be sure!--what a "terrible tale," i might call it! as usual, when greatly engrossed in listening, the bird was busily engaged helping himself to enormous mouthfuls of hemp-seed, spilling more than he swallowed, cocking his head, and gazing at his little black master, with many an interjectional and wondering "oh!" and many a long-drawn "de-ah me!" just as if he understood every word the boy said, and fully appreciated the dangers he had come through. "well, duckie?" said the bird, fondly, when freezing powders had concluded. "oh! der ain't no moh to tell, cockie," said the boy; "but i 'ssure you, when i see dat big yellow bear wid his big red mouf, i tink i not hab much longer to lib in dis world, cockie--i 'ssure you i tink so." freezing powders was the hero for one evening at all events. mcbain made him recite his story and sing his daft, wild songs more than once, and the very innocence of the poor boy heightened the general effect. he was a favourite all over the ship from that day forth. everybody in a manner petted him, and yet it was impossible to spoil him, for he took the petting as a matter of course, but always kept his place. his duties were multifarious, though light--he cleaned the silver and shined the boots, and helped to lay the cloth and wait at table. he went by different names in different parts of the ship. ralph called him his cup-bearer, because he brought that young gentleman's matutinal coffee, without which our english hero would not have left his cabin for the world. freezing powders was message-boy betwixt steward and cook, and bore the viands triumphantly along the deck, so the steward called him "mustard and cress," and the cook "young shallots," while ted wilson dubbed him "boss of the soup tureen;" but the boy was entirely indifferent as to what he was called. "make your games, gem'lams," he would say; "don't be afraid to 'ffend dis chile. he nebber get angry i 'ssure you." when freezing powders had nothing in his hand his method of progression forward was at times somewhat peculiar. he went cart-wheel fashion, rolling over and over so quickly that you could hardly see him, he seemed a mist of legs, or something like the figure you see on a manx penny. at other times "the doctor," as the cook was invariably called by the crew, would pop up his head out of the fore-hatch and bawl out,-- "pass young shallots forward here." "ay, ay, doctor," the men would answer. "shalots! shalots! shalots!" then freezing powder's curly head would beam up out of the saloon companion. "stand by, men!" the sailor who captured him would cry; and the men would form themselves into a line along the deck about three yards apart, and freezing powders would be pitched from one to the other as if he had been a ball of spun-yarn, until he finally fell into the friendly arms of the cook. about a week after the bear adventure de vere, the aeronaut, was breakfasting in the saloon, as he always did when there was anything "grand in the wind," as rory styled the situation. "dat is von thing i admire very mooch," said the frenchman, pointing to a beautifully-framed design that hung in a conspicuous part of the saloon bulkhead. "ah," said allan, laughing, "that was an idea of dear foolish boy rory. he brought it as a gift to me last christmas. the coral comes from the indian ocean; rory gathered it himself; the whole design is his." "it's a vera judeecious arrangement," said sandy mcflail, admiringly. the arrangement, as the doctor called it, was simple enough. three pieces of coral, in the shape of a rose, a thistle, and shamrock, encased--nay, i may say enshrined--in a beautiful casket of crystal and gilded ebony. there was the milk-white rose of england and the blood-red thistle of scotland side by side, and fondly twining around them the shamrock of old ireland--all in black. here was the motto underneath them-- "perseverando." "there is nothing like perseverance," said allan. "the little coral insect thereby builds islands, ay, and founds continents, destined to be stages on which will be worked out or fought out the histories of nations yet unborn. `perseverando!' it is a grand and bold motto, and i love it." the frenchman had been standing before the casket; he now turned quickly round to allan and held out his hand. "you are a bold man," he said; "you will come with me to-day in de balloon?" "i will," said allan. "we vill soar far above yonder mountain," continued de vere; "we vill descend into the crater. we vill do vat mortal man has neever done before. perseverando! do you fear?" "fear?" said allan; "no! i fear nothing under the sun. whate'er a man dares he can do." "bravely spoken," cried the frenchman. "perseverando! i have room for two more." "perseverando!" says rory. "perseverando for ever! hoorah! i'm one of you, boys." ralph was lying on the sofa, reading a book. but he doubled down a leaf, got up, and stretched himself. "here," he said, quietly, "you fellows mustn't have all the fun; i'll go toe, just to see fair play. but, i say," he added, after a moment's pause, "i don't suppose there will be any refreshment-stalls down there--eh?" "no, that there won't," cried allan. "hi! peter, pack a basket for four." "ay, ay, sir?" said peter. "and, i say, peter--" this from ralph. "yes, sir," said the steward, pausing in the doorway. "enough for twenty," said ralph. "that's all, peter." "thank'ee, sir," said peter, laughing; "i'll see to that, sir." it was some time before de vere succeeded in gaining captain mcbain's consent to the embarkation of his boys on this wild and strange adventure, but he was talked over at last. "it is all for the good of science, i suppose," he said, half doubtfully, as he shook hands with our heroes before they took their places in the car. "god keep you, boys. i'm not at all sure i'll ever see one of you again." the ropes were let go, and upwards into the clear air rose the mighty balloon. "here's a lark," said allan. "a skylark," said rory. "let us sing, boys--let us sing as we soar, `rule britannia, britannia rules the waves.'" standing on the quarter-deck, and gazing upwards, mcbain heard the voices growing fainter and fainter, and saw the balloon lessening and lessening, till the song could no longer be heard, and the balloon itself was but a tiny speck in the heaven's blue. then he went down below, and busied himself all day with calculations. he didn't want to think. meanwhile, how fared it with our boys? here they were, all together, embarked upon as strange an expedition as it has ever probably been the lot of any youth or youths to try the chance of. yet i do not think that anything approaching to fear found place in the hearts of one of them. the situation was novel in the extreme. with a slow and steady but imperceptible motion--for she was weightily ballasted--the "perseverando," as they had named the balloon, was mounting skywards. there was not the slightest air or wind, nor the tiniest of clouds to be seen anywhere, and down beneath and around them was spread out a panorama, which but to gaze upon held them spell-bound. there was the island itself, with its rugged hills looking now so strangely flattened and so grotesquely contorted; to the west and to the north lay the white and boundless sea of ice, but far to the eastward and south was the ocean itself, looking dark as night in contrast with the solid ice. but see, yonder, where the ice joins the water, and just a little way from its edge, lie stately ships--two, three, five in all can be counted, and their sails are all clewed; and those innumerable black ticks on the snow, what can they be but seals, and men sealing? "don't you long to join them?" said allan, addressing his companions. "i don't," replied rory; "in spite of the cold i feel a strange, dreamy kind of happiness all over heart and brain. troth! i feel as if i had breakfasted on lotus-leaves." "and i," said ralph, "feel as i hadn't breakfasted on anything in particular. let us see what peter has done up for us." and he stretched out his hand as he spoke towards a basket. "ah?" cried the frenchman, "not dat basket; dat is my bagdads--my pigeons, my letter-carriers! you see, gentlemen, i have come prepared to combat eevery deeficulty." "so i see," said ralph, coolly undoing the other basket; "what an appetite the fresh air gives a fellow, to be sure!" "indeed," says rory, archly, "it is never very far from home you've got to go for that same, big brother ralph. but it's hardly fair, after all, to try to eat the bagdads." "remember one thing, though," replied ralph; "if it should occur to me suddenly that you want your ears pulled you cannot run away to save yourself." "indeed," said rory, "i don't think that the frost has left any ears at all on me worth pulling, or worth speaking about either." "ha?" cried allan, "that reminds me; i've got those face mufflers. there! i'll show you how to put one on. the fur side goes inside-- thus; now i have a hole to breathe through, and a couple of holes for vision." "and a pretty guy you look!" "oh! bother the looks," responded ralph, "let us all be guys. give us a mask, old man." they did feel more comfortable now that they had the masks on, and could gaze about them without the risk of being frozen. the cold was intense; it was bitter. "i'd beat my feet to keep them warm," said rory, "if i didn't think i'd beat the bottom of the car out. then we'd all go fluttering down like so many kittywakes, and it's captain mcbain himself that would be astounded to see us back so soon." "gentlemen," said the frenchman, "we are right over the mouth of the crater. i shall now make descent, with your permission. then it vill not be so cold." "and is it inside the volcano," cries rory, "you'd be taking us to warm us? down into the crater, to toast our toes at vulcan's own fireside? sure, captain de vere, it is splicing the main-brace you're after, for you want to give us all a drop of the craytur." "oh!--oh!" this from ralph. "oh! rory--oh! how can you make so vile a pun? in such a situation, too!" the gentlest of breezes was carrying the balloon almost imperceptibly towards the north and west; meanwhile de vere was permitting a gradual escape of gas, and the _perseverando_ sunk gradually towards the mountain-top, the mouth of which seemed to yawn to swallow them up. there was a terrible earnestness about this daring aeronaut's face that awed even rory into silence. "stand by," he whispered; for in the dread silence even a whisper could be heard,--"stand by, allan, to throw that bag of ballast over the moment i say the word." viewing it from the sea of ice, no one could calculate how large is the extent of the crater on the top of that mighty mountain cone. it is perfectly circular, and five hundred yards at least in circumference, but it is deeper, far and away, than any volcanic crater into which it has ever been my fortune to peer. even when the great balloon began to alight in its centre the gulf below seemed bottomless. the _perseverando_ appeared to be sinking down--down--down into the blackness of darkness. to the perceptions of our heroes, who peered fearfully over the car and gazed below, the gulf was rising towards them and swallowing them up. i do not think i am detracting in the slightest from their character for bravery, when i say that the hearts of ralph, rory, and allan, at all events, felt as if standing still, so terrible was the feeling of dread of some unknown danger that crept over them. as for de vere, he was a fatalist of the newest french school, and a man that carried his life in his hand. he never attempted, it is true, any feat which he deemed all but impossible to perform; but, having embarked on an enterprise, he would go through with it, or he cared not to live. strange though it may appear, it is just men like this that fortune favours. probably because the wish to continue to exist is not uppermost in their minds, the wish and the hope to achieve success is the paramount feeling. still slowly, very slowly, sunk the balloon, as if unwilling to leave her aerial home. and now a faint shade of light begins to mingle with the darkness beneath them; they are near the bottom of the crater at last. "stand by once again," whispers de vere, "to throw that anchor over as soon as i tell you." a moment of awful suspense. "now! now!" hisses de vere. two anchors quit the car at the same time--one thrown by the aeronaut himself, one by allan, and the ropes are speedily made fast. the balloon gives an upward plunge, the cables tighten, then all is still! "ha! ha! she is fast!" cried de vere, now for the first time showing a little excitement. "oh, she is a beauty! she has behave most lofely! look up, gentlemen!--look up!--behold the mighty walls of blue ice that surround us!--behold the circle of blue sky dat over-canopies us!--look, the stars are shining!" "can it be night so soon?" exclaimed allan, in alarm. "nay, nay, gentlemen," said the enthusiastic frenchman, "be easy of your minds. it is not night in the vorld outside, but here it is alvays night; up yonder the stars shine alvays, alvays, when de clouds are absent. and shine dey vill until de crack of doom. now gaze around you. see, the darkness already begins to vanish, and you can see the vast and mighty cavern into which i have brought you. if my judgment serves me, it extends for miles around beneath de mountain. there!--you begin to perceive the gigantic stalactites that seem to support the roof!" "ralph," cried rory, seizing his friend by the hand, "do you remember, years and years ago, while we all sat round the fire in the tartan parlour of arrandoon castle, wishing we might be able to do something that no one, man or boy, had ever done before?" "i do--i do," answered ralph. "descend with me here, then," continued rory, "and let us explore the cavern. only a little, _little_ way, captain," he pleaded, seeing that de vere shook his head in strong dissent. "you know not vat you do ask," said de vere, solemnly. "here are caves within caves, one cavern but hides a thousand more; besides, there are, maybe, and doubtless are, crevasses in de floor of dis awful crater, into which you may tumble, neever, neever to be seen again. pray do not think of risking a danger so vast." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the day wore slowly to a close; many and many an anxious look did mcbain take skywards, in hopes of seeing the returning balloon. but the sun set, tipping the distant hills with brightest crimson, twilight died away in the west, and one by one shone out the stars, till night and darkness and silence reigned over all the sea of ice. he went below at last. his feelings may be better imagined then described. he tried to make himself believe that nothing had occurred, and that the balloon had safely descended in some snow-clad valley, and that morning would bring good tidings. but for all this he could not for the life of him banish a dread, cold feeling that something terrible had occurred, the very novelty of which made it all the more appalling to think of. presently the mate entered the saloon. "what cheer, stevenson! any tidings?" "a pigeon, sir," replied the mate, handing the bird into the captain's grasp. mcbain's hands shook as he had never remembered them shake before, as he undid the tiny missive from the pigeon's leg. it ran briefly thus:-- "we are detained here in the crater all night. do not be alarmed. to-morrow will, please providence, see us safely home." chapter fourteen. anxious hours--exploration of the mountain cavern--the cave of the king of ice, and ghouls of a thousand winters--transformation scenes-- snowblind--lost. it would be difficult to say which was most to be pitied, mcbain on board the _arrandoon_, passing long hours of inconceivable anxiety, or our other heroes, left to spend the drear, cold night in the awful depths of that arctic crater. it was with light hearts that ralph and rory descended from the car of the _perseverando_ and commenced their perilous exploration of the vast and dimly-lighted cavern; but heavy hearts were left behind them, and hardly had they disappeared in the gloom ere the frenchman exclaimed to allan, "i greatly fear dat i have done wrong. your two friends are big wid impulse; if anydings happen to them dere vill be for me no more peace in dis world." allan was silent. but when hours passed away and there were no signs of their returning, when gloaming itself began to fall around them, and the stars at the crater's mouth assumed a brighter hue, allan's anxiety knew no bounds, and he proposed to de vere to go in search of his friends. "ah! if dat vere indeed possible!" was the reply. "and why not?" said allan. "for many reasons: de balloon vill even now hardly bear de strain on her anchors; de loss of even your veight vould require such delicate manipulation on my part, dat i fear i could not successfully vork in such small space. alas! ve must vait. but there yet is hope." meanwhile it behoves us to follow ralph and rory. they had faithfully promised de vere they would go but a short distance from the car, and that promise they had meant to redeem. they found that the ground sloped downwards from the mouth of the crater, but there was no want of light, as yet at least, and thus not the slightest danger of being unable to find their way back, for were there not their footsteps in the snow to guide them? so onward they strolled, cheerfully enough, arm-in-arm, like brothers, and that was precisely how they felt towards each other. the road--if i may say "road" where there was no road--was rough enough in all conscience, and at times it was difficult for them to prevent stumbling over a boulder. "i wonder," said rory, "how long these boulders have lain here, and i wonder what is beneath us principally, and what those vast stalactite pillars are formed of." "`bide a wee,' as the doctor says," replied ralph; "don't hurry me with too many questions, and don't forget that though i am ever so much bigger and stronger than you, i don't think i am half so wise. but the boulders may have lain here for ages: those ghostly-looking pillars are doubtless ice-clad rocks, partly formed through the agency of fire, partly by water. i think we stand principally on rocks and on ice, with, far, far down beneath us, fire." "dear, dear!" said rory, talking very seriously, and with the perfect english he always used when speaking earnestly; "what a strange, mysterious place we are in! do you know, ralph, i am half afraid to go much farther." "silly boy!" said his companion, "how thoroughly irish you are at heart--joy, tears, sunshine and fun, but, deep under all, a smouldering superstition." "just like the fires," added rory, "that roll so far beneath us. but you know, ray,"--in their most affectionate and friendly moods ralph had come to be "ray" to rory, and rory "row" to ralph--"you know, ray, that the silence and gloom of this eerie place are enough to make any one superstitious--any one, that is, whose soul isn't solid matter-of-fact." "well, it _is_ silent. but i say, row--" "well, ray?" "suppose we try to break it with a song? i daresay they have never heard much singing down here." "who?" cried rory, staring fearfully into the darkness. "oh!" said ralph, carelessly, "i didn't mean any one in particular. come, what shall we sing--`the wearing o' the green'?" "no, ray, no; that were far too melancholic, though i grant it is a lovely melody." "well, something scotch, and stirring. the echoes of this cavern must be wonderful." they were, indeed; and when rory started off into that world-known but ever-popular song, "auld lang syne," and ralph chimed with deep and sonorous bass, the effect was really grand and beautiful, for a thousand voices seemed to fill the cavern. they heard the song even in the car of the balloon, and it caused allan to remark, smilingly, for they had not yet been long gone, "ralph and boy rory seem to be enjoying themselves; but i trust they won't be long away." rory was quite lively again ere he reached the words-- "and we'll tak' a richt good-willy waught for auld lang syne." he burst out laughing. "indeed, indeed! there is no wonder i laugh," he said; "fancy the notion of taking a `good-willy waught' in a place like this! and now," he added, "for a bit of a sketch." "don't be long in nibbing it in, then." rory was seated on a boulder now, tracing on his page the outlines of those strange, weird pillars that hands of man had never raised nor human eyes gazed upon before. so the silence once more became irksome, and the time seemed long to ralph, but rory had finished at last. then the two companions, after journeying on somewhat farther, began to awaken the echoes by various shouts; and voices, some coming from a long distance, repeated clearly the last words. "let us frighten those ghouls down there by rolling down boulders," said rory. "come on, then," said ralph; "i've often played at that game." they had ten minutes of this work. it was evident this hill within a hill, this crater's point, was of depth illimitable from the distant hissing noises which the broken boulders finally emitted. "it's a regular whispering gallery," said rory. "it is, row. but do let us get back. see, there is already barely light enough to reveal our footsteps." "ah! but, my boy," said rory, "the nearer the car we walk the more light we'll have. and i have just one more surprise for you. you see this little bag?" "yes. what is in it--sandwiches?" "nay, my saxon friend! but bengal fires. now witness the effects of the grand illumination of the cave of the king of ice by us, his two ghouls of a thousand winters!" the scene, under weird blue lights, pale green or crimson, was really magical. all the transformation scenes ever they had witnessed dwindled into insignificance compared to it. "i shall remember this to my dying day?" rory exclaimed. "and i too!" cried ralph, entranced. "now the finale?" said the artist; "it'll beat all the others! this white light of mine will eclipse the glory of the rest as the morning sun does that of moonlight! it will burn quite a long time, too; i made it last night on purpose." it was a bengal fire of dazzling splendour that now was lit, and our heroes themselves were astonished. "it beats the `arabian nights'!" cried rory. "look, look!" he continued, waving it gently to and fro, "the stalactites seem to dance and move towards us from out the gloom arrayed in robes of transplendent white. yonder comes the king of ice himself to bid us welcome." "put it out! put it out!" murmured ralph, with his hand on his brow. it presently burned out, but lo! the change!--total darkness! _rory and ralph were snowblind_! "oh, boy rory!" said ralph, "that brilliant of yours has sealed our fate. it will be hours ere our eyes can be restored, and long before then the darkness of night will have enshrouded us. we are lost!" "let us not lose each other, at all events," said rory, feeling for his friend's arm, and linking it in his own. "you think we are lost; dear ralph, i have more hopes. something within me tells me that we were never meant to end our days in the awful darkness of this terrible cavern. pass the night here it is certain we must, but to-morrow will bring daylight, and daylight safety, for be assured allan and de vere will not leave us, unless--" here the hope-giver paused. "unless," added ralph--"for i know what you would say--an accident should be imminent--unless they _must_ leave. a balloon needs strange management." "even then they will return to seek us by morning light. do you know what, ray?" he continued, "our adventures have been too foolhardy. providence has punished us, but he will not utterly desert us." "hope springs eternal in the human breast." the lamp of hope was flickering--had, indeed, burned out--in ralph's heart, but his friend's words rekindled it. perhaps rory's true character never shone more clearly out than it did now, for, while trying to cheer his more than friend, he fully appreciated the desperateness of the situation, and had but little hope left in him, except his extreme trust in the goodness of a higher power. "could we not," said ralph, "all snowblind as we are, try to grope our way upwards?" "no, no, no!" cried rory; "success in that way is all but impossible; and, remember, we have but the trail of our footprints to guide us even by day." something of the ludicrous invariably mixes itself up with the most tragic affairs of this world. i have seen the truth of this in the chamber of death itself, in storms at sea, and in scenes where men grappled each other in deadly strife. and it is well it should be so, else would the troubles of this world oftentimes swamp reason itself. the attempts of rory to keep his companion in cheer, partook of the nature of the ludicrous, as did the attempts of both of them to keep warm. so hours elapsed, and sometimes sitting, sometimes standing and beating feet and hands for circulation's sake, and doing much talking, but never daring to leave the spot, at last says rory, "hullo, ray! joy of joys! i've found a lucifer!" almost at the same moment he lit it. they could see each other's faces--see a watch, and notice it was nearly midnight. they had regained sight! joy and hope were at once restored. "troth!" said rory, resuming his brogue, "it's myself could be a baby for once and cry. now what do ye say to try to sleep? we'll lie close together, you know, and it's warm we'll be in a jiffey?" so down they lay, and, after ten long shivering minutes, heat came back to their frozen bodies. they had not been talking all this time; it is but right to say they were better engaged. with warmth came _le gaiete_--to rory, at least. "have you wound your watch, ray?" "no, row? and i wouldn't move for the world!" after a pause, "ray," says row. "yes, row?" says ray. "you always said you liked a big bed-room, ray, and, troth, you've got one for once!" "how i envy you your spirits," answers ray. "don't talk about spirits," says row, "and frighten a poor boy. i've covered up my head, and i wouldn't look up for the world. i'm going to repeat myself to sleep. good night." "good night," asks ray, "but how do you do it?" "psalms, ray," row replies. "i know them all. i'll be out of here in a moment. "`he makes me down to lie by pastures green, he leadeth me the quiet waters by.' "isn't that pretty, ray?" "very, row, but `pastures green' and `quiet waters' aren't much in my way. repeat _me_ to sleep, rory boy, and i promise you i won't pull your ears again for a month." "well, i'll try," says row. "are your eyes shut?" "to be sure. a likely thing i'd have them open, isn't it?" "then we're both going to a ball in old england." "glorious," says ray. "i'm there already." then in slow, monotonous, but pleasing tones, row goes on. he describes the brilliant festive scene, the warmth, the light, the beauty and the music, and the dances, and last but not least the supper table. it is at this point that our saxon hero gives sundry nasal indications that this strange species of mesmerism had taken due effect, so row leaves him at the supper table, and goes back to his "pastures green" and "quiet waters," and soon they both are sound enough. let us leave them there; no need to watch them. remember what lover says in his beautiful song,-- "o! watch ye well by daylight, for angels watch at night." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ poor mcbain! worn out with watching, he had sunk at last to sleep in his chair. and day broke slowly on the sea of ice. the snow-clad crater's peak was the first to welcome glorious aurora with a rosy blush, which stole gradually downwards till it settled on the jagged mountain tips. then bears began to yawn and stretch themselves, the sly arctic foxes crept forth from snow-banks, and birds in their thousands--brightest of all the snowbird--came wheeling around the _arrandoon_ to snatch an early breakfast ere they wended their way westward to fields of blood and phocal carnage. and their screaming awoke mcbain. he was speedily on deck. yonder was the _perseverando_ slowly descending. during all the long cruise of the _arrandoon_ nobody referred to the adventure at the crater of jan mayen without a feeling akin to sadness and contrition, for all felt that something had been done which ought not to have been done--there had been, as mcbain called it, "a tempting of providence." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "well, well, well," cried the skipper of the _canny scotia_--and he seemed to be in anything but a sweet temper. "just like my luck. i do declare, mate, if i'd been born a hatter everybody else would have been born without heads. here have i been struggling away for years against fortune, always trying to get a good voyage to support a small wife and a big family, and now that luck seems to have all turned in our favour, two glorious patches of seals on the ice yonder, a hard frost, and the ice beautifully red with blood, and no ship near us, then you, mate, come down from the crow's-nest with that confoundedly long face of yours, for which you ought to have been smothered at birth--" "i can't help my face, sir," cried the mate, bristling up like a bantam cock. "silence!" roared the burly skipper. "silence! when you talk to your captain. you, i say, _you_ come and report a big steamer in sight to help us at the banquet." the mate scratched his head, taking his hat off for the purpose. "did i make the ship?" he asked with naive innocence. "pooh!" the skipper cried; and next moment he was scrambling up the rigging with all the elegance, grace, and speed of a mud turtle. he was in a better humour when he returned. "i say, matie," he said, "yonder chap ain't a sealer; too dandy, and not boats enough. no, she is one of they spectioneering kind o' chaps as goes a prowling around lookin' for the north pole. ha! ha! ha! come below, matie, and we'll have a glass together. she ain't the kind o' lady to interfere with our blubber-hunting." the mate was mollified. his face was soaped, and he shone. chapter fifteen. the "arrandoon" anchors to the "floe"--the visit to the "canny scotia"-- silas grig--a sad scene--rory relieves his feelings--strangers coming from the far west. seeing the skipper of the _canny scotia_ and his mate come below together smiling, the steward readily guessed what they wanted, so he was not dilatory in producing the rum-bottle and two tumblers. then the skipper pushed the former towards the mate, and said,-- "help yourself, matie." and the mate dutifully and respectfully pushed it back again, saying,-- "after you, sir." this palaver finished, they both half-filled their tumblers with the ruby intoxicant, added thereto a modicum of boiling coffee from the urn that simmered on top of the stove, then, with a preliminary nod towards each other, emptied their glasses at a gulp. after this, gasping for breath, they beamed on each other with a newly-found friendliness. "have another," said the skipper. they had another, then went on deck. after ten minutes of attentive gazing at the _arrandoon_, "well," said the skipper, "i do call that a bit o' pretty steering; if it ain't, my name isn't silas grig." "but there's a deal o' palaver about it, don't you think so, sir?" remarked the mate. "granted, granted," assented silas; "granted, matie." the cause of their admiration was the way in which the _arrandoon_ was brought alongside the great ice-floe. she didn't come stem on--as if she meant to flatten, her bows--and then swing round. not she. she approached the ice with a beautiful sweep, describing nearly half a circle, then, broadside on to the ice, she neared it and neared it. next over went the fenders; the steam roared from the pipe upwards into the blue air, like driven snow, then dissolved itself like the ghost of the white lady; the ship was stopped, away went the ice-anchors, the vessel was fast. and no noise about it either. there may not be much seamanship now-a-days, but i tell you, boys, it takes a clever man to manage a big steamer prettily and well. the _arrandoon_ was not two hundred yards from the _canny scotia_. now round go the davits on the port quarter, outward swings the boat, men and officers spring nimbly into her, blocks rattle, and down goes the first whaler, reaching the water with a flop, but not a plash, and with keel as even and straight as a ruled line. "i say, matie," said silas grig, in some surprise, "if that boat ain't coming straight away here, i hope i may never chew cheese again." so far as that was concerned, if silas chose, he would at least have the chance of chewing cheese again, for the _arrandoon's_ boat came rippling along towards them with a steady cluck-el-tee cluck-el-tee, which spoke well for the men at the oars. "well," continued silas, who, rough nut though he was, always meant well enough, "let us do the civil, matie; tell the steward to fill the rum-bottle, and pitch 'em a rope." the rope came in very handy; but there was no need for the rum; even in greenland men can live without it--the officers of the _arrandoon_ had found that out. mcbain, with allan and rory,--the latter, by the way, seemed to have registered a vow to go everywhere and see everything,--stood on the quarter-deck of the _canny scotia_, the skipper of which craft was in front of him, a comical look of admiration on his round brick-coloured countenance, and his two hands deep in the pockets of his powerful pilot coat. "ay, sir! ay!" he was saying; "well, i must say ye do surprise _me_." he put such an emphasis on the "me" that one would have thought that to surprise silas grig was something to be quite boastful of ever after. "all the way to the north pole? well, well; but d'ye think you'll find it?" "we mean to," said rory, boldly. "perseverando!" said allan. "the _perseverance_!" cried the skipper. "i know the ship, a peterheader. last time i saw her she had got in the nips, and was lying keel up on the ice, yards and rigging all awry of course; and, bother her, i hope she'll lie there till silas grig gets a voyage [a cargo], then when the _scotia_ is full ship, the _perseverance_ can get down off the shelf, and cabbage all the rest. them's my sentiments. but come below, gentlemen, come below; there is room enough in the cabin of the old _scotia_ for every man jack o' ye. come below." silas was right. there was room, but not much to spare, and, squeezed in between allan and mcbain, poor rory was hardly visible, and could only reach the table with one hand. the cabin of this greenlandman can be described with a stroke of the pen, so to speak. it was square and not very lofty--a tall man required to duck when under a beam; the beams were painted white, the bulkheads and cabin doors--four in number--were grey picked out with green. one-half at least of the available space was occupied by the table; close around it were cushioned lockers; the only other furniture was the captain's big chair and a few camp-stools, a big square stove with a roaring fire, and a big square urn fixed on top thereof, which contained coffee, had never been empty all the voyage, and would not be till the end thereof. i suppose a bucket of water could hardly be called furniture, but there it stood close to the side of the stove, and the concentric rings of ice inside it showed the difficulty everybody must experience who chose to quench his thirst in the most natural way possible. above, in the hollow of the skylight, hung a big compass, and several enormously long sealer's telescopes. "no rum, gentlemen?" said silas; "well, you do astonish _me_; but you'll taste my wife's green ginger wine, and drink her health?" "that we will," replied mcbain, "and maybe finish a bottle." "and welcome to ten," said silas; "and the bun, steward, bring the bun. that's the style! my wife isn't much to look at, gentlemen, but, for a bun or o' drop o' green ginger, i'll back her against the whole world." after our heroes had done justice to the bun, and pledged the skipper's good lady in the green ginger, that gentleman must needs eye them again and again, with as much curiosity as if they had been some new and wonderful zoological specimens, that he had by chance captured. "all the way to the north pole!" he muttered. "well, well, but that _does_ get over silas." rory could not help laughing. "funny old stick," said silas, joining in his merriment, "ain't i?" he did look all that and more, with his two elbows on the table, and his knuckles supporting his chin, for his face was as round as a full moon orient, and just the colour of a new flower-pot; then he laughed more with one side of his face than the other, his eyes were nowhere in the folds of his face, and his nose hardly worth mentioning. after the laugh, beginning with rory, had spread fairly round the table, everybody felt relieved. "i'm only a plain, honest blubber-hunter, gentlemen," said silas grig, apologetically, "with a large family and--and a small wife--but--but you do surprise _me_. there?" [it is but fair to say that, as a rule, captains of greenlandmen are far more refined in manner than poor silas.] but when mcbain informed him that the _arrandoon_ would lay alongside him for a week or more, and help him to secure a voyage, and wouldn't ship a single skin herself, silas was more surprised than ever. indeed, until this day i could not tell you what would have happened to silas, had the mate not been providentially beside him to vent his feelings upon. on that unfortunate officer's back he brought down his great shoulder-of-mutton fist with a force that made him jump, and his breath to come and go as if he had just been popped under a shower-bath. "luck's come," he cried. "hey? hey?" and every "hey?" represented a dig in the mate's ribs with the skipper's thumb of iron. "told ye it would, hey? didn't i? hey?" "what'll the old woman say, hey? hey, boys? hey, matie? hey? hey?" "you gentlemen," said silas, alter his feelings had calmed down a trifle, "are all for sport, and silas has to make a voyage. but you'll have sport, gentlemen, that ye will. my men are sealing now. they're among the young seals. it has been nothing but flay, flay, flay, for the last two rounds of the sun, and there isn't such a very long night now, is there? and you saw the blood?" saw the blood, reader! indeed, our heroes had. where was it that that blood was not? all the beautiful snow was encrimsoned with it on the distant field of ice, where the men were carrying on their ghastly work. it was as if a great battle had been fought there, and the dead crangs lay in dozens and hundreds. a crang means a carcass. is the adjective "dead," then, not unnecessary? what else can a carcass or crang be but "dead"? nay, but listen: let me whisper a truth in your ear, and i know your brave young blood will boil when i tell you: i've known our men, englishmen and scotchmen, flense the lambs while still alive. from the field of slaughter the skins were being dragged to the ship by men with ropes, so there were streaks of red all the way to the ship, and all the vessel's starboard side was smeared with blood. indeed, i do not wish to harrow the feelings of my readers, and i shall but describe a few of the cruelties of sealing--no, on second thoughts, i will not even do that, because i know well you will believe me when i tell you these cruelties are very great, and believing this, if ever you have an opportunity of voting for a bill or signing a petition to get poor greenland seals fair play, i know you will. silas grig and our heroes took a walk to the field of unequal strife, and rory and allan, to whom all they saw was very new, were not a little horrified as well as disgusted. "this," said mcbain, "is the young-sealing. we are not going to assist you in this; we are sportsmen, not butchers, captain grig?" silas grasped mcbain's hand. "your feelings do you credit, sir," he said--"they do. but i have feelings, too. yes, a weather-beaten old stick like me has feelings! but i'm sent out here to make a voyage, and what can i do? i've a small wife and a large family; and my owners, too, would sack me if i didn't bring the skins. i say," he added, after a pause, "you know my mate?" "yes," said mcbain. "well," said silas, "you wouldn't, imagine that a fellow with such an ugly chunk o' a figure-head as that had feelings, eh? but he has, though; and during all this young-sealing business we both of us just drowns our feelings in the rum-bottle. fact, sir! and old silas scorns a lie. but, gentlemen, when all this wicked work is over, when we are away north from here, among the old seals, and when we can look at that sun again without seeing blood, then my matie and i banishes black-jack [the gallon measure from which rum is served is so called] and sticks to coffee and arrowroot; that we do!" they had turned their backs on the by no means inviting scene, and were walking towards the _canny scotia_ as silas spoke. "but," said the greenland mariner, "come and dine with the old man to-morrow. the last of the young seals will be on board by then, and we'll have had a wash down; we'll be clean and tidy like. then hurrah for the old seals! that's sport, if you like!--that's fair play." "ah!" said mcbain, "your heart is in the right place, i can see that. i wish there were more like you. do _you_ seal on sunday? many do." silas looked solemn. "i knows they do," he said, "but silas hasn't done so yet, and he prays he never may be tempted to." "captain grig, we'll come and dine with you, and we expect you to pay us the same compliment another day." "i daresay you fellows are glad to get home?" said ralph, rising from the sofa and throwing down the volume he had been dreaming over. "not a bit of it!" said rory and allan, both in one breath; and rory added, "you don't know what a funny ship a real greenlandman is! i declare you've lost a treat!" "does it smell badly?" asked ralph, with a slight curl of his upper lip. "never a taste!" says rory; "she's as sweet as cowslips or clover, or newly-made hay; and the bun was beautiful!" "the what?" said ralph. "don't tell him?" cried allan; "don't tell him!" "and the green ginger!" said rory, smacking his lips. "ah, yes! the green ginger," said allan; "i never tasted anything like that in all my born days!" "hi, you, freezing powders!" cried rory, "take my coat and out-o'-doors gear. d'ye hear? look sharp?" "i'm coming, sah; and coming plenty quick!" "de-ah me!" from cockie. "now bring my fiddle, you young rascal, into my cabin;" for rory, reader, had that young-sealing scene on his brain, and he would not be happy till he had played it away. and a wild, weird lilt it was, too, that he did bring forth. extempore, did you ask? certainly, for he played as he thought and felt; all his soul seemed to enter the cremona, and to well forth again from the beautiful instrument, now in tones of plaintive sorrow, now in notes of wrath; and then it stopped all at once abruptly. that was rory's way; he had pitched fiddle and bow on the bed, and presently he returned to the saloon. "are you better?" inquired allan. rory only gave a little laugh, and sat down to read. it had taken mcbain nearly a fortnight to get clear away from the isle of jan mayen, for the frost had set in sharp and hard, and the great ice-saws had to be worked, and the aid of dynamite called in to blast the pieces. they were now some ten miles to the north and east of the island, but, so far as he knew on the day of his visit to the _scotia_, he had bidden it farewell for ever. it had not been for the mere sake of sport or adventure he had called in there, he had another reason. old magnus, before the sailing--ay, or even the building--of the _arrandoon_, had heard that the island was inhabited by a party of wandering eskimos. wherever eskimos were mcbain had thought there must be dogs, and that was just what was wanting to complete the expedition--a kennel of sleigh-dogs. but, as we have seen, the eskimo encampment was deserted, so mcbain had to leave it disappointed. but, as it turned out, it was only temporarily deserted after all, and on the very day on which they had arranged to dine with skipper grig, two daring men, chiefs of a tribe of eskimos, drawn in a rude sledge, were making their way towards the island. their team consisted of over a dozen half-wild dogs, harnessed with ropes of skin and untanned leather. they seemed to fly across the sea of ice. hardly could you see the dogs for the powdery snow that rose in clouds around them. well might they hurry, for clouds were banking up in the west, a low wind came moaning over the dreary plain, and a storm was brewing, and if it burst upon them ere they reached the still distant island, then-- chapter sixteen. silas grig's dinner-party--a new member of the malacopterygii--the storm on the sea of ice--break-up of the main pack--roughing it at sea. while those two chiefs of the eskimo indians were hurrying their team of dogs across the sea of ice eastwards, ever eastwards, with the clouds rising behind them, with the wind whispering and moaning around them, and sometimes raising the powdery snow in little angry eddies, that almost hid the plunging dogs from their view, honest silas grig, though somewhat uneasy in his mind as to what kind of weather was brewing, busied himself nevertheless in preparing what he considered a splendid dinner for his coming guests. "but," he said to his mate, "it will just be like my luck, you know, if it comes on to blow big guns, and we've got to leave good cheer and put out to sea." "ah! sir," said the mate, "don't forget luck has turned, you know." "ha! ha! ha!" laughed silas, "really, matie, i _had_ a'most forgotten." and away forward he hurried, to see how the men were getting on scrubbing decks and cleaning brass-work, and how the cook was getting on with that mighty sirloin of beef. he took many a ran forward as the day advanced, often pausing, though, to give an uneasy glance windward, and at the sun, not yet hidden by the rising clouds. and often as he did so he shook his head and made some remark to his mate. "i tell ye, matie," he said once, "i don't quite like the looks o' 't. those clouds ain't natural this time o' the year, and don't you see the spots in the sun? why, he is holed through and through like an old dutch cheese. something's brewin'. but, talking of brewin', i wonder how the soup is getting on?" [in greenland these sunspots are quite easily seen by the naked eye.] silas's face was more the colour of a new flower-pot than ever, when mcbain and our three heroes came alongside in their dashing gig, with its beautiful paint and varnish, snow-white oars, flag trailing astern, and rudder-ribbons, all complete. rory was steering, and he brought her alongside with a regular admiral's sweep. "why, she's going away past us!" cried silas; "no, she ain't. it is the bow-and-bow business the young 'un's after." "in bow?" cried rory. "way enough--oars!" these were the only three orders rory needed to give to his men. there was no shouting of "easy sta'board!" or "easy port!" as when a lubber is coxswain. next moment they were all on deck, shaking hands with the skipper and his mate. the latter remained on deck; he didn't care for the company of "quality;" besides, he had to loosen sails, and have all ready to get in anchors at a minute's notice and put out to sea. the skipper of the _canny scotia_ had contrived another seat at table, so there was no such thing as crowding, and the dinner passed off entirely to his satisfaction. the pea-soup was excellent, neither too thick nor too thin, and the sippets done to a turn. then came what silas called the whitebait. "which is only my fun, gentlemen," he observed, "seeing that they are bigger than sprats. where do i get them? hey? why, turn up a piece of pancake-ice, and there they be sticking in the clear in hundreds, like bees in a honeycomb, and nothing out but their bits of tails." "it is curious," said rory. "how do they bore the holes, i wonder?" "that, young gentleman," replied silas, "i can't say, never having seen them at work. maybe they melt the ice with their noses; they can't make the holes with their teeth, their bows are too blunt and humble like. perhaps, after all, they find the holes ready-made, and just go in for warmth. queer, ain't it?" "i believe," said rory, "they belong to the natural order _malacopterygii_." "the what?" cried ralph; "but, pray, row, don't repeat the word. think of the small bones; and mcflail isn't here, you know." "of which," continued rory, "the _clupeidae_" [ralph groaned] "form one of the families, belonging to which are the herring, the sardine, the whitebait, and sprat." "they may be sprats, or they may be young sperm-whales, for anything i care," said ralph; "but i do know they are jolly good eating. captain grig, may i trouble you again?" with the pudding came the green ginger, that ralph was so anxious to taste. "the peculiarity of that pudding, gentlemen, is this," said silas--"eaten hot it _is_ a pudding, eaten cold it is a bun. the peculiarity of the green--" what more he meant to have said will never be known, for at that moment the _canny scotia_ gave an angry cant to leeward, and away--extemporised seat and all--went the skipper down upon the sta'board bulkheads; the coalscuttle, the water-bucket, and the big armchair followed suit, and there was consequently some little confusion, and a speedy break-up of the dinner-party. mcbain's boat was called away, for the ship had slipped her ice-anchors, and was drifting seaward, with the wind roaring wildly through rigging and cordage. the gale had come upon them as sudden as a thunderclap. good-byes were hastily said, and away pulled the gig. she was in the lee of the ice and partly sheltered, otherwise they never would have regained the _arrandoon_. as it was, the men were almost exhausted when they got alongside. her anchors were well fast, and her cables were strong; there was little fear of dragging for some time, so the order was given to at once get up steam, and that, too, with all speed, for the force of the wind seemed to increase almost momentarily. on the _arrandoon's_ decks you could scarcely have seen anything, for the snow blew blindingly from off the ice; there was little to be heard either, for the shrill, harsh whistling of the wind. men flitted hither and thither like uneasy ghosts, making things snug, and battening down the principal hatches; on the bridge, dimly descried, was mcbain, speaking-trumpet under arm, and beside him stevenson. down below, from fore to aft, everybody was engaged. in the stoke-hole they were busy, and making goodly use of the american hams; in the engine-room the engineers were looking well to their gear, with bits of greasy "pob" in their hands, humming songs as they gave a rub here and a nib there, though to what end or purpose i couldn't tell you, but evidently on the best of terms with themselves and their beautiful engine. the doctor was busy stowing his bottles away, and the steward was making the pantry shipshape, and our heroes themselves were stowing away all loose gear in their cabins. presently they entered the saloon again, where was freezing powders making the cockatoo's cage fast with a morsel of lanyard. "here's a pretty to-do!" the bird was saying, half choking on a billful of hemp. "call the steward!--call the steward!--call the steward!" "you jus' console yourse'f," said the boy, "and don't take sich big mou'fuls o' hemp. mind, you'll be sea-sick p'esently." "de-ah me!" "yes, ye will--dreffully sea-sick. den you wants to call de steward plenty quick." one ice-anchor came on board; the other--the bow--was cut adrift as the ship's stern swung round seaward. almost at the same moment an explosion was heard close alongside, as if one of the boilers had burst. the great berg to which they had been anchored had parted company with the floe, and was evidently bent on going to sea along with the _arrandoon_. once they were a little way clear of the ice they could look about them, the snow no longer blowing over the vessel. the scene was peculiar, and such as can only be viewed in greenland under like circumstances. the whole field of ice, as far as it was visible, was a smother of whirling drift; the lofty cone of jan mayen, which though miles to the south'ard and west, had been so well-defined an object against the blue of the sky, was now blurred and indistinct, and the grey, driving clouds every now and again quite hid the top of it from view. all along the edge of the pack the snow was being blown seaward like smoke, or like the white spray on the rocks where billows break. the eastern horizon was a chaos of dark, shifting billows, as tall as houses, and foam-tipped; but near by the ice, although the wind blew already with the force of a gale, and the surface of the water was churned into froth, there was not a wave bigger than you would see on a farmer's mill-pond. what a pity it seemed to leave this comparatively smooth water and steam away out into the centre of yonder mighty conflict 'twixt wind and wave. but well every one on board knew that to remain where they were was but to court destruction, for the noise that proceeded from the ice-fields told them the pack was breaking up. ay, and bergs were already forging ahead of them, and surrounding them. ere they were a mile from the floes they found this out, and the danger from the floating masses of ice was very real indeed. every minute the pieces were hurtled with all the force of the waves against the sturdy vessel's weather-side, threatening to stave her; nor could mcbain, who never left the bridge until the vessel was well out to sea, avoid at times stemming the bergs that appeared ahead of him. for often two would present themselves at one time, and one must be stemmed--the smaller of the twain; for to have come in collision bow on, would have meant foundering. but at length the danger was past as far as the ice was concerned, though now the seas were mountains high, and of titanic force; so after an hour or two the _arrandoon_ lay to, and having seen the lights all properly placed, and extra hands put on the look-out--having, in fact, done everything a sailor could do for the safety of his ship, mcbain came down below. in shining oil-skins and dripping sou'-wester, he looked like some queer sea-monster that had just been caught and hauled on board. he looked a trifle more human, however, when the steward had marched off with his outer garments. "is she snug?" asked allan. "ay, lads, as snug as she is likely to be to-night," replied mcbain; "but she doesn't like it, i can tell you, and the gale seems increasing to hurricane force. how is the glass, rory?" "not so very low," said rory; "not under twenty-nine degrees." "but concave at the top?" "yes, sir." "well, well," said mcbain, "content yourselves, boys, for i think we'll have days of it. i for one don't want to see much more of the ice while this blow lasts. but what a splendid fire you have! steward, mind you put on the guard last thing to-night." "why the guard?" asked rory. "because," explained mcbain, "i feel certain that many a good ship has been burned at sea by the fire falling out of the grate; a wave or a piece of ice hits her on the bows, the fire flies out of the stove, no one is below, and so, and so--" "yes," said ralph, "that is very likely, and pray don't let us speak of anything very dreadful to-night. list! how the wind roars, to be sure! but to change the subject--peter." "ay, ay, sir." "is supper ready?" "very nearly, sir." "well, tell seth to come, and magnus." "ho! ho!" said mcbain, "that's it, is it?" "what a comfort on a night like this," allan remarked, "it is to be shipmates with two such fellows as ray and row, the epicure and the poet--the one to cater for the corporeal, the other for the mental man." the ship was pitching angrily, dipping her bows deep down under the solid seas and raising them quickly again, but not neglecting to ship tons of water every time, which found its way aft, so that down in the saloon they could hear it washing about overhead and pouring past the ports into the sea. "steady, sir, steady," cried magnus, entering the saloon. he was speaking to seth, who had preceded him. he didn't walk in, he came in head first, and was now lying all his length on the saloon floor. but rory and allan lifted him tenderly up again and seated him on the couch, amid such remarks as, "no bones broken, i do hope," "gently does it, seth, old man," "have you really left your sea-legs forward?" "call the steward," the last remark being the cockatoo's. "i reckon," said the old trapper, rubbing his elbows and knees, "there ain't any bones given way this time, but that same is more chance than good management." after supper--which was of ralph's own choosing, i need not say more--a general adjournment was made to the after-cabin, or snuggery, and here every one adopted attitudes of comfort around the blazing stove, in easy-chairs, on sofas, or on rugs and skins on the deck; there they sat, or lounged, or lay. the elders had their pipes, the youngsters coffee. but with the pitching and rolling of the ship it was not very easy either to sit, or lounge, or lie, nor was it advisable to leave the coffee in the cup for any length of time; nevertheless everybody was happy, for wondrous little care had they on their minds. oh! how wild and tempestuous the night was, and how madly the seas leapt and tossed around them! but they had a ship they could trust, and, better by far, a power above them which they had learned to put confidence in. seth, to-night, was in what ralph called fine form. his stories of adventure, told in his dry, droll, inimitable way, were irresistible. de vere's face never once lacked a smile on it; he loved to listen though he could not talk. old magnus also had some queer tales to tell, his relation of them affording seth breathing space. several times during the evening rory played, and the doctor tooted, as he called it. thus merrily and pleasantly sped the time--every one doing his best to amuse his neighbours--until eight bells rang out, then all retired. it is on such a night as this that the soundest sleep visits the pillow of your thorough sailor--the roar of the wind overhead, the rocking of the ship, and the sound of the waves close by the ear, all conduce to sweetest slumber. there was little if any improvement in the weather next day, nor for several days; but cold and stormy though it was, to be on the bridge, holding on--figuratively speaking--by the eyelids, was a glorious treat for our sailor heroes. the masts bent like fishing-rods beneath the force of the gale. at times the good ship heeled until her yard-ends ploughed the waves, and if a sea struck her then, the spray leapt higher than the main-truck, and the green water made a clean breach over her. on the second day the clouds were all blown away, but the wind retained its force, and the waves their power and magnitude. every wave threatened to come inboard, and about one out of ten did. those that didn't went singing astern, or got in under the _arrandoon_, and tossed her all they could. the frost was intense, and in some way or other, i think, accounted for the strange singing noise emitted by those waves that went past without breaking. but it was when one great sea followed swiftly on the heels of another that the good ship suffered most, because she would probably be down by the head when she received salute number two. it was thus she had her bulwarks smashed, and one good boat rent into matchwood and cast away. it was no easy task to reach the bridge, nor to rush therefrom and regain the saloon companion. you had to watch the seas, and were generally pretty safe if you made use of arms and legs just after one or two big waves had done their worst; but allan once, and rory three times, were washed into the scuppers, and more bruised than they cared to own. ralph seldom came on deck, and the doctor just once got his head above the companion; for this piece of daring he received a sea in the teeth, which he declared nearly cut his head off. he went down below to change his clothes, and never came up again. on the third day, in the dog-watch, the wind fell, and the sea went down considerably. had the gale blown from the east, the sea would have been in no such hurry to go down, but it had continued all the time to blow steadily from off the ice. what a strange sight the _arrandoon_ now presented! she was a ship of glass and snow. funnel, masts, and rigging were, or seemed to be, composed of frosted crystal. the funnel, rory declared, looked like a stalactite from "the cave of a thousand winters." her bows were lumbered with ice feet thick, and from stem to stern there was no more liveliness in the good _arrandoon_ than there is in a dutch collier. as soon as the wind fell a man was sent up aloft, and the order was given,-- "all hands clear ship of ice." but hark! there is a shout from the crow's-nest. "large ship down to leeward, sir, apparently in distress." chapter seventeen. the storm--the "canny scotia" in distress--rum, mutiny, anarchy, and death--saved--adventure with a she-bear--capture of the young. has it not been said that the greatest pleasure on earth is felt on the sudden surcease of severe pain? i am inclined, though, to doubt the truth of this statement, and i think that nothing can equal the feeling of quiet, calm joy that is instilled into the heart on the instant one is plucked from the jaws of impending death. when the king of terrors comes speedily, while the blood is up and the heart beating high, as he does to those who fall in the field of battle, his approach does not seem anything like so terrible as when he lags in his march towards his victim. one needs to have a hope that leads his thoughts beyond this world, to be brave and calm at such a moment. when the _canny scotia_ slipped her ice-anchors and was driven out to sea, to encounter all the fury of the gale that had so suddenly sprung up, she had not the advantages of the _arrandoon_. she had no steam power, nor was she so well manned. she could therefore only scud under bare poles, or lie to with about as much canvas spread as would make a mason's apron. silas didn't mean to be caught napping, however, and, as quickly as he could, he got the tarpaulins down over the hatches, took in all spare canvas, and did all he could for the best. alas! the best was bad. the _scotia_ made fearful weather, and twenty-four hours after it had come on to blow, she had not a topmast standing, two of her best boats had been carried away, her bulwarks looked like a badly-built farmer's paling, and, worse than all, she was stove amidships on the weather-side and under the water-line. when this last disaster was reported to silas grig, he called all hands to "make good repairs," and stem the flow of the water, which was rushing inboard like a mill-stream through the ugly hole in the vessel's side. had it been calm weather, this might have been done effectually enough, but, under the circumstances, it was simply an impossibility. everything was done, however, that could be done, but still the seas poured in at every lurch to windward. then it was "all hands to the pumps." the men worked in relays, and cheerily, too, and for a time the water was sent overboard faster than it came in, albeit there were times when the green seas poured over the ship like mountain cataracts. but after some hours, either through the men flagging, or from the hole in the ship's side getting larger, the water in the hold began to gain rapidly on them. "bring up black-jack!" cried the skipper to the steward, "and we'll splice the main-brace." "now hurrah! lads!" he exclaimed, addressing the men after a liberal allowance of rum had been handed round. "hurrah! heave round again. the storm has about spent itself and the sea is going down. we can keep her afloat if we try. hurrah then, hurrah!" "hurrah!" echoed the men in response, and, flushed with artificial strength, they once more set themselves with redoubled energy to keep the water under. there was no danger now from ice. the piece that had wrought them so much mischief was about the last they had seen. so for a time all went well, and if the water did not decrease it certainly did not rise. an hour went by, then a deputation came aft to beg for more rum, and the fate of this vessel, like that of many another lost at sea, seemed sealed by the awful drink curse. "it's hardly judicious," said silas to his mate, "but i suppose they must have it." ah! silas grig, it was not judicious to serve them with the first allowance. when hard work is over and finished, and men are worn out and tired, then is the time, if ever, to splice the main-brace; but when work has to be done that needs clear heads, and when danger is all around a ship, the farther away the rum is the better. they had it, though, and presently they were singing as they pumped-- singing, but not working half so hard as before. then even the singing itself ceased; they were getting tired and drowsy, and yet another allowance of rum was asked and granted. the water rose higher in the hold. when the men heard this report they would work no more. with one accord they desisted from their labours, and a deputation of the boldest found their way aft. "it is no use, captain silas grig," they said, addressing their skipper; "the ship is going down, and we mean to die jolly. bring up the rum." "this is mutiny," cried the captain, pulling out a revolver. "i'll shoot the first man dead that dares go down that cabin staircase." "captain," said one of the men, stepping forward, "will you let me speak to you? i've nothing but friendly feelings towards you." "well," replied the skipper, "what have you to say?" "this," said the man; "let us have no murder. put up your shooting-irons. it is all in vain. the men _will_ have rum. hark! d'ye hear that?" "i heard a knocking below," said the skipper. "what does it mean?" before the man could reply there was a wild shout from the half-deck. "it means," replied the man, "that the men have broken through the cabin bulkheads and supplied themselves." "then heaven help us!" said poor bewildered silas. he staggered to the seat beside the skylight and sat down, holding on by the brass glass-guards. a moment after the mate joined him. "you haven't been drinking, matie," said silas, glancing gloomily upwards, "have you?" "no, sir, nor the second mate, nor the steward, nor the spectioneer," was the mate's reply. "give us your hand, sir. we've had words together often; let us forgive each other now. god bless you, sir, and if die together we must, we won't die like pigs, at all events." there was anarchy forward, anarchy and wild revelry, and cruel brawls and fighting, but the five men aft stuck together, and tried to comfort each other, though there was hardly a hope in their hearts that their vessel would be saved. a long evening wore away, a kind of semi-darkness settled over the sea, but this short night soon gave place once more to-day. then down forward all was quiet; the revellers were sleeping the stertorous sleep of the drunkard. but the wind had fallen considerably, and the seas had gone down; the broken waves no longer sung in the frosty air, but the ship rolled like a half-dead thing in the trough of the sea. she was water-logged. with infinite difficulty the mates, with the steward's assistance, stretched more canvas, while the captain took the helm. she heeled over to it, and looked as if she hardly cared to right again. but this brought the hole in her side into view. then they got heavy blankets up, and, working as they had never worked before, they managed in an hour and a half to staunch the leak from the outside. hope began to rise in their hearts, and, at the bidding of the skipper, the steward went below and brought up a large tin of preserved soup. "ah! men," said poor silas, "this is better than all the rum in the world." and it was, for it gave them strength and heart. they went away down below next to the galley and half-deck, and tried to rouse some of the men. they found five of them stark and stiff, and from the others came nothing but groans and oaths. so they went to the pumps themselves, and worked away for hours for dear life itself. oh! what a joyful sight it was for them when, in answer to their signal of distress, they saw the good ship _arrandoon_ coming steaming down towards them. then the grim raven death, who had been hovering over the seemingly doomed ship, flapped his ragged wings and flew slowly away. they were saved! oil was pumped upon the water between the _arrandoon_ and _scotia_, to round off the curling, comb-like peaks of the waves, and a boat was lowered from the steamer and sent to the assistance of the distressed vessel. the ship was pumped out, and next day, the weather becoming once more fine, she was towed towards the island of jan mayen, and made fast to a floe. she was next heeled over and the repairs completed. the _arrandoon_ spared them a few spars, and plenty of willing hands to hoist them, so that in a few days the greenland sealer was as strong as ever. silas grig was a very happy man now. the unfortunate wretches who had flown to meet their fate were sunk in the dark waters of the sea of ice, but this rough but kindly-hearted skipper never let one upbraiding word escape him towards his men, and the men knew they were forgiven, and liked their skipper none the less for his extreme forbearance. "do you know what i have done?" said silas to mcbain. "you have forgiven your men, haven't you?" replied mcbain. "ay, that i have," said silas, "but i have staved every cask of rum on board, and black-jack is thrown overboard." all along the west coast or shore of the island of jan mayen our heroes, on their re-arrival there, found that the water was comparatively clear, the bergs having been driven away out to sea on the wings of the wind, so that by breaking the light bay ice the boats could approach quite close to the snow-clad cliffs. our three boys--for boys we must continue to call them for the sake of the days of "auld lang syne"--were glad to set foot on shore again, and with them went old seth and the doctor. freezing powders was also invited, but his reply was, "no, sah! thank you all de same. but only dis chile not want anoder bad winter wid a yellow bear!" "`adventure' you mean, don't you?" said rory. "dat is him, sah!" replied the boy. "i not want no more dancin' for de dear life." "but the yellow bear was killed, freezing powders," persisted allan. "but him's moder not killed," said the lad, with round, open eyes. "you seem to hab 'tirely forgotten dat, sah; and p'raps de moder is much worse dan de son." so they went without him. well armed were they, and provisioned for a day at all events. somewhat to their surprise, they found smoke issuing from the once deserted huts, while a whole pack of dogs started up from where they had been lying and attempted to bar their progress. but the same two hardy chiefs of the eskimos whom we last saw speeding along over the sea of ice, with the snow-wind roaring around them, came forth, quieted the dogs, and bade them kindly welcome. in their broken english they told them the tale of their adventurous journey across the pack from the far-off western land of greenland, and of the narrow escape they had had from the violence of the sudden storm. then they led the way, not into one of the small huts, but into the large central one. "we are making him fit and warm and good," they explained, "for our big 'melican masta. he come directly. to-day we see his boat not far off-- a two-stick boat, with plenty mooch sail." the "two-stick boat" which the chiefs referred to was a saucy little yankee yacht, that on this very morning was cruising off the island. our heroes spent several hours in the hut, seated by the blazing logs, listening delightedly to a description of the strange country these chiefs called their home--a country that few white men have ever yet visited, and where certainly none have ever wintered. but i cannot repeat all the strangers told them about the manners and customs of their countrymen, the dress of the men and women, their fishing and hunting exploits, their fierce though petty wars with other tribes, and the wonderful life they lead throughout the summer and during the long, drear, sunless season of winter. "ah!" said rory, with a bit of a sigh, "i do like to hear these men talk about their wild land in the far west. we must come again and make them tell us a deal more. i've half a mind to set out with them when they return, and live among them for some months. i say, ray, wouldn't it be glorious to go surging over the ice-fields drawn by a hundred fleet-footed hounds?" "drawn by a hundred hounds!" cried allan, laughing. "draw it mild, rory." "well," said rory, "more or less, you know." "besides," ralph put in, "these are not hounds, rory; there is more of the wolf about them than the hound." "och, botheration?" replied rory; "you're too particular. but if i went with these men, and dwelt among their tribes for a time, then i'd go to press when i came back to old england." "a book of adventure?" said allan. "ah, yes!" said rory; "a book, if you please, but not dry-as-dust prose, my boys! i'd write an epic poem." talking thus, away they went on an exploring expedition, rory riding the high horse, building any number of castles in the air, and giving the reins to his wonderful imagination. "i reckon, mr rory," said seth, "that you'd make the fortune of any publisher that liked to take you up. you try new york, i guess that'd suit you; and, if you like, you shall write the life of old trapper seth." "glorious!" cried rory; "`a life in the forests of the far west.' hurrah! i'll do it! you wait a bit. look, look! what is that?" "it's a white fox," said seth, bowling the animal over before the others had time to draw a bead on it. but that white fox, with a few loons, and five guillemots--which, by the way, when skinned, are excellent eating--were all they bagged that day. mcbain and stevenson had better luck though, they had seen a gigantic bear prowling around among the rough ice beneath the cliffs, and had called away a boat and gone after it. "o! sah!" cried freezing powders, running up to mcbain as he was going over the side. "don't go, sah! i can see de yellow bear's moder and two piccaninnies on de ice. she is one berry bad woman. she make you dance to please de piccaninnies, den she gobble your head off. don't you go, sah! you not look nice widout a head. dat am my impression, sah." there was nothing of the sensational about mcbain's adventure with the bear, but something of the sad. the captain of the _arrandoon_ was not the man to take the life of even a bear while in company of her young ones, but he well knew how terrible and how bloodthirsty such an animal is, and how cunning in her ferocity. he shuddered as he thought of allan or rory heedlessly passing the cave or crevasse in the rocks where she lay concealed, and being pounced upon and dragged in to be torn limb from limb. so he determined she must die. once landed, they almost immediately sighted her, and gave chase. alone she might have escaped; but in dread terror the young ones leapt on her back and thus hampered her movements. [she-bears with young ones are easily got up to and killed on this account.] she then turned fiercely at bay, coming swiftly on to the attack, bent upon a fearful vengeance if she could only accomplish it. "stand by, stevenson," cried mcbain, dropping on one knee, "to fire if i don't kill at once." the monster held her head low as she advanced, and a less experienced hunter would have made this the target. mcbain knew better. he aimed at the lower part of the neck, and the bear fell pierced through the great artery of the heart. yet so near had he allowed the animal to come before firing, that stevenson, trembling for his safety, had brought his own rifle to the shoulder. then those two poor young bears stood up to fight for their dead dam, giving vent to growls of grief and rage. "we can take them alive, sir," said stevenson. "come along, lads." this last sentence was addressed to the boat's crew. "come along quick, and bring the ropes." had old seth been there, these young bruins would soon have been lassoed. but mcbain's men were not over expert at such work. they did manage to rope one in a few minutes, but the other gave them a deal of trouble--sport one man erroneously called it. he invariably flew at the man who tried to throw the rope, and the man invariably made his feet his friends, thus giving another man a chance to try his skill. if he failed he had to run next, and so on until at long last one more adroit or more fortunate than his fellow succeeded in throwing the lasso over the young bear's neck, and brought it half strangled to the ice. "a present for you, captain grig," cried mcbain, pulling alongside the _canny scotia_ with his double capture. silas was delighted when he saw the two live bears. "heaven bless you, sir!" he exclaimed. "why, sir, they'll fetch forty pounds each in the london _too_. forty pounds, sir! think o' that. eighty pounds for the two o' them. keep my little wife and all the family for a month o' sundays. hurrah! matie, luck's turned." chapter eighteen. a new arrival--the dogs--trapper seth becomes kennel-man--preparations for a great seal hunt--the greenland bear. on the very day that mcbain shot the great she-bear--for it was one of the largest that ever fell before a sportsman's gun--on that day, and on the afternoon of that day, just as our heroes were about to leave the island and re-embark on the _arrandoon_, there landed from off that saucy "little two-stick yacht" one of the tallest yankees that ever stepped in boots. seth squeezed the hand of this countryman of his till tears sprang into the stranger's eyes; and they were not tears of emotion, nor sentiment either, but of downright pain. "i say, siree?" cried the newcomer, shaking his hand and looking at the tips of his fingers, "patriotism and brotherly love are both beautiful things in their way, but when it comes to squeezing the blood out from under a fellow's finger-nails, then i say, bother brotherly love." "i'm proud to meet you, sir," exclaimed seth, "let us shake hands once more." "never a shake, old man," said the stranger; "let us admire each other at a respectable distance. but come, gentlemen all," he continued, turning to the others, "you ain't going on board just yet. come up with me to my house. i daresay you've been there already; but come back and break bread with nathaniel cobb, sometimes called the little wonder, because i ain't much more'n seven feet high." nat cobb's boat's crew were norwegians every one of them, short, somewhat squat, fair-haired fellows, but as active and bustling as a corresponding number of well-bred fox-terriers. a couple of them were moving on ahead now, with an immense basket between them. "that's the dinner," said the little wonder; "and you'll find there's enough for all hands, too." "well, gentlemen," nat said, when everybody had done justice to the good things placed before them, "let us drink each other's healths in a cup of fragrant mocha, for that's the wine for greenland weather. gentlemen, i look around me at your smiling faces, and i pledge you and bid you welcome to my island of jan mayen." "hallo!" thought rory, "_your_ island." "yes, gentlemen," continued nat, looking as if he really read rory's thoughts, "_my_ island. six months and more ago i annexed it, and to-morrow once again the stars and stripes will proudly flutter from yonder flagstaff, and the bird o' freedom will soar over this wild mountain land." apart from his queer, half-boastful speech, nat cobb was a very agreeable companion. he was very frank at all events. after looking at rory for the space of half a minute, he suddenly stretched out his hand. "i like you," he said, "muchly, and i like you all. it is from men like you that the mightiest republic in the world has been built. but why don't you speak more, rory, as your messmates call you?" "ach! troth?" said rory, "and sure i'm driving _tandem_ with the thinking." "and you're wondering," said nat, "where a piece of elongated mortality like myself stretches himself of a night on board the _highflier_?" "seeing," replied rory, laughing, "that you're about as long as the keel, and maybe a bit longer, i may well wonder that same; and unless you lean against a mast, i don't quite see how you can stretch yourself." "well, young sir, i'll tell you how i do it. i double up into four, and lie on my back! that is how it's done." the little wonder went off with our party to the _arrandoon_; and as yankees are ever ready to trade, he had not been long on board when mcbain had purchased from him a dozen of his best dogs. they were to be kept until the ship returned from a week's sport among the old seals, then taken on board just before the _arrandoon_ left for the extreme north. old seth was duly told off to superintend the erection of kennels, forward near the bows, and old seth was in his glory in consequence. "i'll feel myself o' some kind o' use now," he said. "kennel-man in ordinary to the _arrandoon_, a free house and victuals found, i guess it ain't half a bad sitivation." about a week after this--the greenland sealer having been made as good as new again--the jan mayen fleet sailed away from the island, and directed its course about north-and-by-east. first on the line went the noble _arrandoon_ sailing, not steaming, for a nice beam wind was blowing; next came the _canny scotia_ with her tall, tapering spars; and the saucy _highflier_, with her fore-and-aft canvas, brought up the rear. nathaniel cobb was arctic meteorologist to a private company of american scientists, but his time was pretty much his own, and he didn't mind spending a week or a fortnight of it among the old seals. he wanted a skin or two anyhow, he said, to make a warm carpet for his "house," and some oil to burn for fuel, but promised that everything beyond what he really wanted which happened to fall to his gun should be given to silas. silas grig was never happier in his life than he was now. luck had indeed turned, fortune was about to favour him for once in a way. his would be a bumper ship, full to the hatches, with a bing of skins on deck that he wouldn't be able to find room for below. and when he returned to peterhead, flags would fly and bands would play, and his little wife and he would live happy ever after. mcbain wanted to show his young companions a little genuine sport, and at the same time do a good turn to honest silas, by helping him to a voyage; while the former, on the other hand, were all excitement and bustle, for the _arrandoon_ was about to be transformed into a sealer; and the idea being such a perfectly new one, was correspondingly appreciated. the little fleet kept well together; it would not have suited them to part company, although, even on a wind, without the aid of her boilers, the _arrandoon_ could easily have shown her consorts a pair of clean heels. the doctor himself was led away with enthusiasm, and longed to draw a bead, as seth called it, on a bear itself. he had chosen a rifle from the box, cleaned and polished it, and called it his own. "i've never shot a wild beast," he explained to rory, "but, man, if i get the chance, i'll have a try." "bravo!" cried rory, "and you're sure to get the chance, you know." the ice was loose, although the weather was clear and very frosty. there was a heaving motion in the main pack that prevented the bergs from getting frozen together, but for all that the fleet kept well clear of it, for fear of getting beset. patches of old seals might, it is true, have been found far in among the ice, but the risk was too great to run, so mcbain kept to the outside edge, and the others followed his example. silas grig was invited on board the _arrandoon_; and proud he was when the captain told him that he could choose five-and-twenty of his best men, and superintend their preparations for going after the seals. the third mate might be one of the number, but neither stevenson nor mitchell was to be allowed to go, although mcbain did not object to these officers, or even the engineers, having a day's sport now and then. it was a glorious morning--for greenland--when captain mcbain called all hands, in order that silas might choose the men who were to assist him in making his fortune. the sun was shining as brightly as ever it does in england, and there wasn't too much wind to blow the cold through and through one. either of the officers might have passed for old men, if white hairs make men look old, for their hair, whiskers, and moustachios were coated with hoar-frost ice. our heroes had just finished breakfast, all of them having had a cold sea-bath to give them a glow before they sat down, and were now walking briskly up and down the quarter-deck, talking merrily and laughing. the _scotia_ had her foreyard aback, and the _arrandoon_ had also stopped her way, and yonder was silas in his boat coming rapidly over the rippling water towards the steamer, the skipper himself standing like a gondolier and steering with an oar in true whaler fashion. "now, lads," cried silas, when the men of the _arrandoon_ lay aft in obedience to orders. "you're a fine lot, i must say; every man jack o' ye is better than the other; but i just want the men that have been to the country before. the men among ye that know a seal-club from a toastin'-fork, or a lowrie-tow from a bell-rope, just elevate a hand, will ye?" [lowrie-tow--the rope with which the men drag the skins to the ship's side.] no less than fifteen gloved hands were waved aloft. silas was delighted, and did not take long to choose the remaining ten. "you'll go on the ice by twos, you know, men," he continued, "and when one o' ye tumbles into the water, why, the other'll simply pull him out. nothing easier." all these hands were to be clubsmen and draggers, while "the guns," as they were called, comprised the following: ralph, rory, allan, sandy the surgeon, de vere the aeronaut, seth trapper, and the third mate, seven in all, and warranted to give a good account of the seals, and keep the men steadily on drag if the sport was anything like good. having made these preliminary arrangements, the men were dismissed, and silas spent the rest of the day forward with old ap the carpenter and the sail-maker. and very busy the whole four of them were, too, for three dozen daggers or seal-knives had to be fitted with sheaths of leather, and belts to go round the men's waists, and three dozen lowrie-tows, with the same number of seal-clubs, had to be got ready. i saw the other day an engraving of a sealing scene in greenland, evidently done by an artist who had never been in the arctic regions in his life, and who had therefore trusted to his imagination, which had led him far from the truth. in this picture there is a ship under canvas: error number , for sealers always clue or brail up before the men go over the side. the ice is tall and pinnacled: error number , for the ice the old seals lie on is either flat or hummocky. the men on the ice are leaping madly from berg to berg and clubbing _old_ seals: error number , for unless old seals get positively frozen out of the water by the pieces becoming fast together, they will not wait to be clubbed. you may catch a weasel asleep, but never an old seal. lastly, in this picture, the men are wielding clubs that have evidently been borrowed from some gymnasium: this constitutes error number , for seal-clubs are nothing like these. they are more like an ancient battle-axe; the shaft is about four or five feet long and made of strong, tough wood, while through the top of this terrible weapon is run the part that does the execution--a square piece of iron or steel-- sharpened at one end, hammer-like at the other, and nearly a foot long. with this instrument a strong man has been known to lay a greenland bear dead with one blow. no one of course would dare to attack a bear armed with a club alone, but instances have occurred where the bear has been the aggressor, and where the man had to defend himself as best he could. one word parenthetically about the great polar or ice bear. until i had first seen the carcass of one lying flensed on the ice, i could not have believed that any wild beast could attain such gigantic proportions. the footprints of this monster were as large as an ordinary pair of kitchen bellows. the pastern, or ankle, seemed as wide as the paw, and as near as i could guess about thirty inches round; the forearms and hind-legs were of tremendous strength; so too were the shoulders and loin. an animal like this with one stroke can slay the largest seal in greenland, and could serve the biggest lion that ever roared in an african jungle precisely the same. as to the voice, it is hardly so fearful as the lion's, but heard, as i heard it one night on the pack, within two yards of me, it is sufficiently appalling, to say the least of it. it is a sort of half-cough, half roar. as trapper seth described it after his adventure at the cave in jan mayen, when little freezing powders so nearly lost the number of his mess: "the roar of a healthy greenland bear, when the owner of it is so close ye could kick him, is a kind o' confusin'; it shakes your innards considerable, and makes ye think the critter has swallowed the thick end of a thunderstorm and is tryin' to work it up again." an elephant--a tusker--is no joke when he loses his temper and comes after you, nor is a lion or tiger when he thinks he can do you a mischief, but i would rather face either of them twice over than i would an ice bear with his back up, if i myself were unarmed. i was very young, by the way, when i found myself confronted with my first greenland bear, but i well remember both what my thoughts were at the time, and what were my feelings. the truth is, i had made the captain promise he would give me a chance to go and fight one of these terrible giants of the ice. he did so in good time, and i confess that as the boat neared the pack--i being in the bows--i suddenly discovered that i was not half so brave as i had previously imagined. the bear did not run away, as i fear i had almost wished that he would. he simply waited, looking at us somewhat inquiringly; and when i landed, all alone, mind you, he came along to meet me, and inquire what i wanted, and i hated him while i envied him for his coolness. he seemed to say, "why, you're only a boy; just wait till i get alongside you, and i'll show you how i treat boys. i'll turn you inside out." i had to wait. wild horses couldn't have tom me from the spot, where i had dropped on one knee. oh! i can assure you, i would have liked, well enough, to run away, but with all the ship's crew looking at me--? no; death rather than live a coward. on came bruin, much to my disgust; i would have felt as brave as a lion had he only shown me his heels. then these questions chased each other through my brain: "how near will i let the beggar come before i fire? shall i hit him on the head, or shoot him in the chest? and, what shall i do if the rifle misses fire?" bruin still advanced at a shambling trot. then i brought my rifle to the shoulder and took aim, glancing along the glimmering barrel till i could only see the _vise_ at the end, and immediately beyond that bruin's yellow breast. bang, bang! i dare say it really was myself who pulled those two triggers of my double-barrelled rifle, but at the time i felt as if i had nothing at all to do with it. then there was a shout from the boat, and a shout from the ship. bruin was dead, and i was the hero; but somehow i did not feel that i deserved the praise which i received. yet, after all, i daresay i only felt in this encounter as most boys would have felt. doing anything dangerous is always nasty at first, but when one gains confidence in himself, then is the time one knows-- "that strange joy that warriors feel in foemen worthy of their steel." chapter nineteen. "silas grig, his yarn"--the white whale--afloat on an iceberg--a dreary journey--bear adventures--"the seals! the seals!" there was only one subject in the whole world that silas grig was thoroughly conversant with, and that was the manners and customs of his friends the seals. had you started talking upon either politics or science, or the state of europe or ireland, silas would have become silent at once. he would have retired within himself; his soul, so to speak, would have gone indoors, and not come out again until you had done. such was silas; and he confessed frankly that he had never sung a song nor made a speech in his lifetime. he was a perfect enthusiast while talking about the natural family _phocidae_. no naturalist in the world knew half so much about them as silas. on the evening of the day in which he had chosen his men from the crew of the _arrandoon_, he was pronounced by both ralph and rory to be in fine form. he was full of anecdote, and even tales of adventure, so our heroes allowed him to talk, and indeed encouraged him to do so. "what!" he cried, his honest, fear-nothing face lighting up with smiles as he eyed rory across the table after dinner. "spin you a yarn, d'ye say? ah! boy, and you'll excuse me calling ye a boy. silas never could tell a story, and i don't suppose he ever had an adventure as signified much to you in his life." "never mind," insisted rory, "you tell us something, and i'll play you that old tune you so dearly love." "ah! but," said silas, "if my matie were only here; now you wouldn't think, gentlemen,"--here he glanced round the table as seriously as if contradiction were most unlikely--"you wouldn't think that a fellow like that, with such an ugly chunk of a head, had any sentiment; but he has, though, and he owns the prettiest wife and the smartest family in all peterhead." "look here," cried rory, "be quiet about your matie. sure this is what we're waiting for." he exhibited the doctor's slate as he spoke, and on the back thereof, behold! in large letters, the words,-- "silas grig, his yarn." silas laughed till his sides ached, his eyes watered, the chair creaked, and the rafters rang. it was a pleasant sight to see. after this he lit up a huge meerschaum pipe, "hoping there was no offence," cleared his throat, turning his face upwards at the pendent compass, as if seeking help there. then he began,-- "of the earlier days of silas grig little need be said. i daresay he was no better and no worse than other boys. he nearly plagued the life out of his grandmother, and drove three maiden aunts to the verge of distraction, and made any amount of work for the tailor and the shoemaker; and when they couldn't stand him any longer at home they sent him to school, reminding the teacher ere they left him there, that to spare the rod was to spoil the child. the teacher didn't forget that; he whipped me three times a day, drilled me through the english grammar and grey's arithmetic, then flogged me into caesar; and when i translated the passage, `caesar triduas vias fecit' [caesar made three days' journey.] into `caesar made three roads,' the dominie gave me such a dressing that i followed caesar's example--i made three days' journey due north, and never returned to my maiden aunts, nor the dominie either. "i found myself now in the heart of what i then took to be a big town, for i wasn't very big myself, you know. it was only peterhead, after all. i marched boldly down to the docks, and on board a great raking-masted greenlandman. "`what use would you be?' inquired the skipper when i told him what i wanted. `bless me!' he added, `you ain't any size at all; the bears would eat you up.' "`i'll have him,' said the doctor, `if you'll let me, captain. he can be my lob-lolly-boy and body-guard.' "and so, gentlemen, from that day to this i've been a sailor o' the northern seas; and there isn't much to be seen in these regions that old silas hasn't come across, from baffin's bay to kamschatka, from lonely spitzbergen in the north to iceland in the south." "and so you've been in spitzbergen, have you?" said mcbain. "why, bless you, yes," replied silas. "it was there i was in at the death of the great white whale, and a sad day it was for us, i can tell you. he was white with age. [very old whales are sometimes found in the far northern seas covered with a kind of parasite, which gives them a white or light-grey appearance.] i should think he couldn't have been much under a hundred years old, and just as sly and wary as a hundred and forty foxes all rolled in to one. many and many a boat had tried to catch him, but he had a way of diving and doubling to avoid the harpoons that some believed was rather more than natural; then when you thought he was miles and miles away, pop! up he would come among the very midst of the boats, and a funny thing it would be if he didn't knock one o' them to smithereens with that tail o' his. we killed him though. our skipper himself speared him, but it was hours after that before he died. and before he died terrible was the revenge he took on his destroyers. gentlemen, silas grig has no language in his vocabulary to describe the vicious wrath of that sea-demon. i think i see him now as he rose to the surface, blowing blood and spray, snorting with fury, with fire seeming to flash out of his little evil eyes. we in the boats thought our last hour had come, as he ploughed down through us. but our hearts stood still with fear and dread when he dashed past us and made for the ship itself. onward with lightning speed went the brute, leaving a wake astern such as a man-o'-war might have left. "our craft--a small brig--was lying with her foreyard aback. she looked as if sleeping on the gently rippling water. no one spoke in the boats, every eye was fixed on our ship--our home, and on the fearful monster advancing to attack her. we could see that the people left on the brig knew the whole extent of their danger, for they seemed all on deck. there were wild shouts, and guns were fired, but nothing availed to avert the catastrophe. then, oh! the sad, despairing cry that rose to heaven from that doomed ship! it seems to ring in my ears whenever i think of it. the whale struck her right amidships, and she went over and down at once. no soul was saved; and when we rode up to the spot, there was nothing to be seen, and nothing to be heard, save the body of the great white whale, dead, on his side, with the waves lap-lapping against it as it slowly rose and fell. "for six long, cold, weary days we lived in the open boats, feeding on the flesh of the seals we happened to kill, and quenching our thirst with the snow we gathered from the ice. when we had almost despaired of being saved, for we were far to the nor'ard and east of the usual fishing-grounds, a norwegian walrus-hunter picked us up, and landed us at last, in midwinter, on a dreary shore in lapland. but, gentlemen, that is nothing to what we, the survivors of the ill-fated _jonathan grey_, suffered some years afterwards. the ship got `in the nips' coming out o' the pack. we were crushed just as you might crash an egg-shell between your fingers. thirty of us embarked upon the very iceberg that had caused our ruin, with two casks of biscuit, and hardly clothes enough to cover us. then it came on to blow, and, huddled together in the centre of the berg, we were blown out to sea, trying in vain to keep each other warm, and defend ourselves from the cruel cold seas that dashed over us, heavier than lead, more remorseless than the grave. fifteen days were we on the berg, and every day some one dropped off, ay, and the living seemed to envy the quiet, calm sleep of the dead. a sail in sight at last; and how many of us, think you, were alive to see it? three i only three! it was a year after this before i was fit to brave the arctic seas again, and meanwhile i had met my peggy--my little wife that is. some difference, you will allow, gentlemen, between silas grig afloat on a solitary iceberg in a troubled northern sea, and silas strolling on the top of a breezy cliff in the bright moonlight of midsummer, with peggy on his arm, and just as happy as the sea-birds. "were these the only times that i was cast away? no--for i lost my ship by fire once in the northern ice of western greenland, and it was two whole years before either myself or my messmates placed foot again on british soil. there wasn't a ship anywhere near us, and the nearest settlement was a colony of transported danes, that lived about three hundred miles south of us. we saved all we could from the burning barque, and that was little enough; then we constructed rough sledges, and tied our food and chattels thereon, and set out upon our long, dreary march. it took us well-nigh two months to accomplish our journey, for the way was a rough one, and the region was wild and desolate in the extreme. it was late in autumn, and the sun shone by day, but his beams were sadly shorn by the falling snow. five suns in all we could count at times, though four, you know, were merely mirages. we did not all reach the colony; indeed, many succumbed to the fatigue of the march, to frost-bites, and to scurvy; and we laid them to rest in hastily-dug graves, and the snow was their only winding-sheet. it was more than a year before we found a passage back to our own country, and kind though the poor people all were to us, the governor included, we had to rough it, i can tell you. but you see, sailors who choose the arctic seas as their cruising-grounds must expect to suffer at times. "bears, did you say? thousands! i've counted as many as fifty at one time on the ice, and i've had a few encounters with them too, myself, though i've known those that have had more. i've known men fight them single-handed, and come off scot-free, leaving bruin dead on the ice. dickie mcinlay fought a bear with a seal-club. you may be sure the duel wasn't of his own proposing; but coming across the ice one day all alone, he rounded the corner of a hummock, and lo! and behold! there was a monstrous bear washing the blood off his chops after eating a seal. "`ho! ho!' roared the bear. `i have dined, but you'll come in handy for dessert. oho! waugh, o! oh!' "dick was a little bit of a fellow, but his biceps was as big, round, and just as hard as a hawser. "`if you come an inch nearer me,' cried dickie, quite undaunted, `it'll be a dear day's work for ye, mr bruin.' "the bear crouched for a spring. he never did spring, though; but dickie did; and he will tell you to this day that he never could understand how he managed to clear the space betwixt himself and the bear so speedily. then there was a dull thud; bruin never lifted head again, for the iron of dickie's club was planted deep into his brain. "the doctor here," continued silas, "can tell you what a terribly sharp and deadly weapon of offence a large amputating knife would prove, in the hands of a powerful man, against any animal that ever lived. but the doctor i don't think would care to attack a bear with one." "indeed, no," said sandy; "i would rather be excused." "but the surgeon of the _north star_ did," said silas. "i was witness myself to the awful encounter. but the poor surgeon was mad at the time; he had given way to the rum-fever--rum-fiend it should be called. with his knife in his hand he wandered off and away all by himself over the pack. i saw the fight between the bear and him commence, and sent men at once to assist him. when they reached the scene of action they found the huge bear lying dead, stabbed in fifty places at least. the snow for yards around had been trampled down in the awful struggle, and was yellow and red with blood. the doctor lay beside the bear, apparently asleep. i need not tell you that he slept the sleep that knows no waking. the poor fellow's body was crushed to pulp. "charles manning, a spectioneer of the _good resolve_, was lying on his back on the sunny side of a hummock, snatching a five-minutes' rest, for it was sealing time, when a bear crept up behind him, more stealthily than any cat could have done. he drew his paw upwards along the poor fellow's body. only once, mind you, but he left him a mere empty shell." [the author is relating facts; names only are concealed.] "ah! but, gentlemen, you should have seen a two-mile run i had not five years ago from a bear. silas himself wouldn't have believed that silas could have done the distance in double the time. he was coming home all by himself, when he burst his rifle firing at a seal, and just at that moment up popped a bear. "`all alone, are you, silas?' bruin seemed to say. "`yes,' replied silas, moving off; `and i don't want your company either. i know my way, thank you.' "`oh, i daresay you do!' says the bear. `but it will only be friendly like if i see you home. wait a bit.' "`never a wait!' said silas; and so the race began. "of course they saw it from the ship, and sent men to meet me and settle bruin. puffed? i should think i was! i lay on my face for five minutes, with no more breath in my old bellows than there is in a dead badger?" "you've seen the sea-lion, i suppose, captain grig?" said allan. "i have that!" replied silas, "and the sea-bear, too, and i don't know which of the two i'd rather meet on the top of a berg, for they are vicious brutes both." "i've read some very interesting accounts of them," said allan, "in the encyclopaedias." "so have i," laughed old silas, "written by men who had never seen them out of the brighton aquarium. pardon me, but you cannot study nature from books." "do you know the _stemmatopus cristatus_?" inquired rory. "what ship, my boy?" said silas, with one hand behind his ear; "i didn't catch the name o' the craft." "it isn't a ship," said rory, smiling; "it is a great black seal, with a thing like a kettle-pot over his head." "oho!" cried silas; "now i know. you mean the bladder-nose. ay, lad! and a dangerous monster he is. a greenland sailor would almost as soon face a bear as fight one of those brutes single-handed." "but the books tell us," said rory, "that, when surprised by the hunter, they weep copiously." "bother such books!" said silas. "what? a bladder-nose weep! crocodile's tears, then, lad! why, gentlemen, this monstrous seal is more fierce than any other i know. when once he gets his back up and erects that kettle-pot o' his, and turns round to see who is coming, stand clear, that's what silas says, for he means mischief, and he's as willing to take his death as any terrier dog that ever barked. i would like to see some o' those cyclopaedia-building chaps face to face with a healthy bladder-nose on a bit o' bay ice. i think i know which o' them would do the weeping part of the business." "down south here," said mcbain--"if we can call it south--the seals have their young on the ice, don't they?" "you're right, sir," said silas. "and where do they go after that?" "away back to the far, far north," said silas. "we follow them up as far as we can. they live at the pole." "ah!" said mcbain; "and that, captain grig, is in itself a proof that there must be open water around the pole." "i haven't a doubt about it!" cried silas; "and if you succeed in getting there you'll see land and water too, mountains and streams, and maybe a milder climate. seals were never made to live down in the dark water; they have eyes and lungs, even, if they are amphibious. but look! look! look, men, look!" silas started up from the table as he spoke, excitement expressed in every lineament of his face. he pointed to the port from which at present the _canny scotia_ was plainly visible, about half a mile off, on the weather quarter. the men could be seen crowding up the rattlings, and even manning the yards, and wildly waving their caps and arms in the air. silas threw the port open wide. "listen!" he cried. our heroes held their breath, while over the water from the distant barque came the sound of many voices cheering. then the _arrandoon's_ rigging is manned, and glad shout after glad shout is sent them back. next moment stevenson rushed into the cabin. "the seals! the seals!" was all he could say, or rather gasp. "are there many?" inquired several voices at once.--"millions on millions!" cried the mate; "the whole pack is black with them as far as ever we can see from the mainmast head." chapter twenty. seal-stalking--a glorious day's sport--piper peter and the bear--a strange duet--the seal-stalkers' return. it was about midnight on the th of april when the seals were sighted. midnight, and the sun was low down on the horizon, but, for three long months, never more would it set or sink behind the sea of ice. the weather was bright, bracing, beautiful. not a cloud in the sky, and hardly wind enough to let the ships get well in through the pack, towards the place where the seals lay as thick as bees, and all unconscious of their approaching fate. but the _arrandoon_ got steam up, and commenced forcing her way through the closely packed yet loosely floating bergs, leaving behind her a wake of clear water, which made it easy work for the _scotia_ and the saucy little "two-stick yacht" to follow her example. my young reader must dismiss from his mind the idea of tall, mountainous, pinnacled icebergs, like those he sees in common engravings. the ice was in heavy pieces, it is true, from forty to sixty or seventy feet square, and probably six feet out of water, with hummocks here and there, and piles of bay ice that looked like packs of gigantic cards, but so flat and low upon the whole, that from the masthead a stretch of snow-clad ice could be seen, spreading westwards and north for many and many a mile. when even the power of steam failed to force the _arrandoon_ farther into the pack, the ships were stopped, fires were banked and sails were clewed, and all hands prepared for instant action. the men girt their knives and steels around them, and threw their "jowrie-tows" across their broad shoulders, and the officers, dressed in their sealing costume, seized their rifles and shot-belts. next moment the bo's'n's shrill pipe sounded out in the still air, and the order was shouted,-- "all hands over the side." in five minutes more the ships were apparently deserted. you wouldn't have heard a sound on board, for few were left but stewards and cooks; while little boy freezing powders and his wonderful cockatoo had it all to themselves down in the saloon of the great steamship. the boy was bending down beside his favourite in the corner. "what's the row? what's the row? what's the row?" the bird was saying. "i don't know nuffin' more nor you do, cockie," was the boy's reply; "but it strikes dis chile dat dey have all taken leave of der senses, ebery moder's son of dem. and de captain he have gone up into de crow's-nest, which looks for all de world like a big barrel of treacle, cockie, and he have shut hisself in der, and nuffin' does he do but wave a long stick wid a black ball at de end of it. [the fan with which greenland captains guide their men in the direction of the seals.] dat is all de knows; but oh! cockie, don't you take such drefful big mouf-fuls o' hemp. supposin' anyting happen to you, cockie, den i hab nobody to talk to dat fully understand dis chile." the _canny scotia_ was moored to the ice so close to the _arrandoon_ that the captains of the respective ships could maintain a conversation without stressing their lungs to any very great extent. talking thus, each in his own crow's-nest, they looked for all the world like a couple of chimney-sweeps conversing together from rival chimneys. the cooks were not idle in the galleys, they were busy boiling hams and huge joints of beef, and these, when cooked, were taken on deck; for sealing is hungry work, and every time a man brings a drag to the vessel's side he helps himself to a lordly slice and a biscuit. by-and-by the draggers began to drop in fast enough, each one hauling an immense skin with the fat or blubber attached; and these skins were all hoisted on board the _scotia_, for all hands were working for silas. but our heroes had the sport, and, taking it all in all, i do not think there is any sport in the world to compare to that of seal-stalking. without any of the cowardliness of battue shooting, in which the poor surrounded animals are helpless, and cruelly and mercilessly slain, you have far more excitement, and the sport is not unattended with danger. to be a good seal-stalker you need the limbs of an athlete, the eye of an excellent marksman, and all the stealth and cunning of a tabby cat or a coromanche indian. if your nerves are not well strung, or your muscles not like iron, you may fail to leap across the lane of dark water that separates piece from piece; if you do fail and are not speedily helped out, the current may drag you beneath the bergs, or those dreadful sharks, that seldom are absent where blood is being spilled on the sea of ice, may seize and pull you down to a fearful death; if you are not a good shot, your seals will get away, for your bullet _must_ pierce either neck or head; and, lastly, if you are not cunning, if you do not stalk with stealth, your seals will escape with the speed of lightning. on warm, sunny days the seals lie close and sleep soundly, but they always have their sentries set. kill the sentry, and many others are at your mercy; miss him, or merely wound him, and he gives the alarm _instanter_, and all the rest jump helter-skelter into the sea, according you a beautiful view of their tail-ends, which you don't find very advantageous in the way of making a bag. a good sealer, like a good skirmisher, takes advantage of every bit of cover, and many a death-blow is dealt from the shelter of a lump of loose ice. the gunners to-day, as they usually do, went on after the seals in skirmishing order, in one long line, each taking a breadth of about seventy or one hundred yards. it was an hour past midnight before they left the ships. when it was nine in the morning there was a kind of general assembly of the riflemen to breakfast, behind a large square hummock of packed bay ice, and only the very oldest among them could believe that it was so late. [these strange hummocks, which resemble, as already stated, huge packs of cards, are formed of pieces of bay ice about a foot thick, which has been broken up between two bergs, and finally thrown up out of the water altogether. they form quite a characteristic feature of a north greenland icescape.] why, to our own particular heroes it seemed scarcely an hour since they had left their ship, so great is the excitement of seal-stalking. but ralph and rory and allan had done so well, and had managed to lay so many splendid seals dead on every piece of ice, that they earned high encomiums from the mate of the _canny scotia_; and even the doctor hadn't shot amiss, and proud was he to be told so. "but, my dear sirs," said sandy, "i'd like to know why a good surgeon shouldn't be a good sportsman. don't you know that the great liston himself was sometimes summoned to an operation at the hospital, just as he was mounting his horse to ride off to the hunt, arrayed in scarlet and cords?" "and what did he do?" asked rory. "pass the pie," said ralph. "why," continued the doctor, enthusiastically, "doffed his scarlet coat and donned an old gown, whipped off a leg in one minute ten and a half seconds, and was in the saddle again five minutes after that." "brayvo!" cried captain cobb, "doctor, you're a brick, and if ever you come out to new jersey, come and see cobb, and i guess he'll give you a good time of it." "ray," said rory. "well, row," said ray. "your face and hands are begrimed with powder, and there is a kind of wolfish look about you that is worth studying. you look like a frozen-out blacksmith who hasn't a penny to buy a bit of peas-pudding or a morsel of soap." "i'm hungry, anyhow," said ray. "how good of mcbain to send such a jolly breakfast! but i say, row, d'ye remember the proverb about claudius? well, don't you call my face and hands black till you've washed your own. you look like a chimney-sweep who has been out of work for a week, and got no food since the day before yesterday." "well, well," says row, "but 'deed in troth, my dear big boy, nobody can wonder at your being successful as a seal-stalker, for what with the colour of your face, and the urgency, so to speak, of the two eyes of you, and that big fur cap, why the seals take you for one o' themselves, a big bladder-nose." "pass the ham," said ray; "allan, some more coffee, i begin to feel like a giant refreshed." "i do declare upon mine honour," said de vere, "dat dis is de most glorious pignig [picnic] i ever have de pleasure to attend. but just you look at mine friend seth, how funnily he do dress." "it may be a funny way," said allan, "but it is a most effectual one; dear old trapper seth has killed more seals this morning than any two of us." seth was dressed from top to toe in young seals' skins, the hair outwards, with the exception of the cap, which was of darker fur, and a black patch on his back. they were not loose garments, they were almost as tight as a harlequin's; but when seth drew his fur cap over his face and threw himself on the ice, and began wriggling along, his resemblance to a saddle-seal was so preposterous that everybody burst into a hearty laugh. "that's the way i gets so near them," said seth, standing once more erect. "look, look!" cried rory, and every eye was turned in the direction in which he pointed; and there, in a pool of dark water not twenty yards away, a dozen beautiful heads, with round, wondering eyes, had popped up to gaze at them. it was a lovely sight, and never a rifle was lifted to shoot. presently they disappeared, but on the mate of the _scotia_ giving vent to a loud whistle, up came the heads again, and there they remained as long as the mate whistled, for of all wild creatures in the world that i have ever come across, the greenland seal is the most inquisitive; and no doubt the experience of some of my old-boy readers who have been to the country is the same as my own. onwards, steadily onwards, all that day went our sportsmen; they did not even assemble again for another meal, and at five of the clock they found themselves fully four miles from the place where the ships lay. the field of seals which they had attacked was some ten miles square, and although they had worked their way into it for miles, nevertheless when the flags were hoisted to recall them, at two bells in the first dog-watch, the field of seals still remained about ten miles square. this may seem strange, but is thus accounted for. out of say twenty seals on each berg, fifteen at least would escape, and these swam away under the pack, and again took the ice on the far-off edge of the field of seals. it being somewhat too far to drag the skins to the ship, bings had been made on the ice during the latter part of the day, so that no dead seals should be left unflensed upon the ice. when they wended their way homewards at the end of this glorious day's shooting a broom was stuck besom-side up, on each bing, with the name of the ship on the handles. this is done with the view of preventing other ships from appropriating the skins. this is the custom of the country--one of the unwritten laws of the sea of ice. while the gunners and their merry men were yet a long way off from the ships, there came a hail from the crow's-nest of the _arrandoon_, which, by the way, mcbain had hardly left all the time. peter had brought him up coffee and food, and he had danced in the interval to keep himself warm. "on deck there?" "ay, ay, sir," roared peter, looking up. "is dinner all laid?" "ay, sir, and the cook is waiting." "well, on with the kilt, peter, if you're not afraid of getting your hocks frozen, get the bagpipes, and go and meet the hunters." down below dived peter, and he was up again in what sailors call "a brace of shakes," arrayed in full highland costume, with the bagpipes over his arm. no wonder the cockatoo cried,-- "de-ah me?" when he saw peter, and added, "such a to-do! such a to-do! such a to-do!" now the bears had been rather numerous on the pack that day, just as the sharks were in the water. doubtless the sharks found many a poor wounded seal to close their vengeful jaws upon, for they are either too cowardly or not swift enough to catch a healthy phoca; but the bears had behaved themselves unusually well. they had had plenty to eat, at all events, and seemed to know that the men at work on the ice were laying up a store of provisions for them that would last them all the summer, so they had made no attempt to attack them. but on their way back to the ship the doctor, who was striding on a little way in advance of the rest, startled a huge monster who was sunning himself behind a hummock. it would be difficult to say whether the bear or the doctor was the more startled; at all events the latter fired and missed, and the former made off, running in the direction of the ships. but he hadn't gone above half a mile when who should bruin meet but peter, coming swinging along with his bagpipes under his arm. never a gun had peter, and never a club--only the pipes. as soon as they saw each other they both stopped short. "i do declare," bruin seemed to say to himself, "here is a man or something all alone. but what a strange dress! i never saw anybody dressed like that before. never mind, he looks sweet and nice; i'll have a bit." "i do declare," said peter to himself, "if that isn't a big lump of a bear coming along, and i haven't even a stone to throw at him. whatever shall i do at all, at all? och! and och! this is the end of me now, at last. sure enough it is marching to my own funeral i've been all the time, instead of going to meet the sportsmen. oh! peter, peter! you'll never see your old mother in this world again, nor scotland either. yonder big bear is licking his chops to devour you. yonder is the big hairy sarcophagus that'll soon contain your mangled remains. who would have thought that peter of arrandoon would have lived to play his own coronach?" [coronach--a funeral hymn or wail for the departed.] hardly knowing what he did, poor peter shouldered his pipes, and began to play a dreary, droning, yelling, squealing lament. at the same moment bruin commenced to perform some of the queerest antics ever a bear tried before. he stretched first one leg, then another, and he stretched his neck and described circles in the air with his nose, keeping time with the music. then he sat up entirely on one end. "oh!" he seemed to say, "flesh and blood couldn't stand that; i must, yes, i must give vent to a ho--o--o--o--o-- "and likewise to a hoo--oo--oo--oo--oo!!" reader, the voice of an asthmatical steam-engine, heard at midnight as it enters a tunnel, is a melancholy sound, so is the welsh hooter, and the fog-horn of a newcastle coal brig; but all combined, and sounding together, would be but a feeble imitation of the agonising notes of that great white bear as he sat on his haunches listening to peter's pipes. peter himself saw the effect his music had produced, and, like the "towsy tike" in _tam o' shanter_,-- "he hotched and blew wi' might and main." and, as if peter had been a great magician, bruin felt impelled to try to follow the notes, though i am bound to say he did not always keep even in the key-note. surely such a duet was never heard before in this world. there was a small open space of water not far from the hummock on which the piper of the _arrandoon_ had stationed himself; it was soon alive with the heads of hundreds of seals who had come up to listen; so, upon the whole, peter had a most appreciative audience. but see yonder, is that a seal on the ice that is creeping closer and closer up behind the bear? nay, for seals don't carry rifles; and now the newcomer levels his gun just for a moment, there is a puff of blue-white smoke, the bear springs high in the air, then falls prostrate on the snow. his ululations are over for ever and ay; the piper plays a merrier air, and advances with speed to meet old seth and the rest of the sportsmen, who, glad as they are to see him alive, greet him with uproarious cheers and laughter. then a procession is formed, and with peter and his pipes striding on in front, thus do the seal-stalkers return to the _arrandoon_. chapter twenty one. the coming frost--silas warns the "arrandoon" of danger--forging through the ice--beset--a strange and alarming accident. so willingly and merrily worked all hands on the ice, that in less than three days the _canny scotia_ was almost a full, though by no means a bumper ship, and poor silas began to see visions of future happiness in his mind's eye, when he should return to his native land and complete the joy of his family. unfortunately, however, his good fortune did not last for the present. how seldom, indeed, good luck does last in this world of ours! one day, towards midnight, the sky apparently assumed a brighter blue. this seemed to concern silas considerably. the good man was walking the deck at the time with his inseparable companion the first mate, neither of whom ever appeared now to court sleep or rest. "matie," said silas, pointing skywards, "do you see any difference in the colour yonder?" "that do i!" replied the mate. "and hasn't it got much colder?" "well, both of us have been walking," the chief officer returned, "at the rate of several knots, just to keep the dear life in us, and i never saw you, sir, with your hands so deep in your pockets before." down rushed the captain to consult his glass; he was speedily up again, however. "it is just as i thought," he said. "now come up into the nest with me; there's room for both of us. look!" he added, as soon as they had reached their barrel of observation, "the rascals know what is coming. they are taking the water, and before ten minutes there won't be a seal with his nose on that bit of pack. heigho, matie! heigho! that is just like my luck. if i'd been born a tailor, every man would have been born a highlander, and made his own kilts. but hi! up, matie, silas doesn't mean to let his heart down yet for a bit. a black frost is on the wing. there is no help for that, but the _arrandoon's_ people don't seem to know it. i must off over and tell them;" and even as he spoke silas began descending the jacob's ladder. "call all hands!" he cried, as he disappeared over the side; "we must work her round as long as the pieces are anything loose-like." it was not a long journey to the big sister ship, and the sturdy legs of this ancient mariner would soon get him there. but he would not wait till alongside; he needs must hail her while still many yards from her dark and stately sides. "what ho, there!" he bawled. "_arrandoon_ ahoy!" that voice of his was a wonderful one. it might have awakened the dead; it was like a ten-horse power speaking-trumpet lined with the roughest emery-paper. seals heard it far down beneath the ice, and came to the surface to listen and to marvel. a great bear was sitting not twenty yards from silas. he thought he should like to eat silas, but he could not swallow that voice, so he went across the ice instead. then the voice rolled in over the vessel's bulwarks, startled the officer on duty, and went ringing down below through the state-rooms, causing our sleeping heroes to tumble out of their bunks with double-quick speed, even the usually late and lazy ralph evincing more celerity than ever he had done in his life before. they met, rubbing their eyes and looking cold and foolish, all in a knot in the saloon. cold and foolish, and a little bit frightened as well, for the words of silas sounded terribly like "the _arrandoon_ on fire!" not a bit of it, for there came the hail again, and distinct enough this time. "_arrandoon_ ahoy! is everybody dead on board?" "what _is_ the matter?" cried mcbain, as soon as he got on deck, dressed as he was in the garments of night. "black frost, captain mcbain," answered silas, springing up the side, "and you'll soon find that matter enough, or my name ain't grig, nor my luck like a bad wind, always veering in the wrong direction. the seals are gone, sir--every mother's son o' them! my advice is--but, dear me, gentlemen! go below and rig out. why, here's four more of you! that ain't the raiment for a black frost! you look like five candidates for a choking good influenza!" this first bit of advice being taken in good part, "now," continued silas, "your next best holt, captain mcbain, will be to get up steam, and get her head pointed away for the blue water, else there is no saying we may not leave our bones here." "ah!" exclaimed mcbain, "we've no wish to do that. and here comes our worthy engineer. the old question, chief--how soon can you get us under way?" "with the american hams, sir," was the quiet reply, "in about twenty minutes; with a morsel of nice blubber that i laid in especially for the purpose of emergencies, in far less time than that." "thanks!" said mcbain, smiling; "use anything, but don't lose time." the ships lay far from the open sea. they had been "rove" a long way in through the pack, to get close to the seals, but, independently of that, floating streams of ice, one after another, had joined the outer edge of this immense field of bergs, placing them at a greater distance from the welcome water. steam was speedily roaring, and ready for its work. then, not without considerable difficulty, the vessel was put about, and the voyage seaward was commenced. slow and tedious this voyage was bound to be, for there was so little wind it was useless to shake the sails loose, so the duty of towing her consorts devolved upon the _arrandoon_. instead of remaining on his own ship, silas grig came on board the steamer, where his services as iceman were fully appreciated. as yet the frost had made no appreciable difference to the solidity of the pack; a very gentle swell was moving the pieces--a swell that rolled in from seaward, causing the whole scene around to look like a tract of snow-clad land, acted on by the giant force of an earthquake. forging ahead through such ice, even by the aid of steam, is hard, slow work; and, assisted as the _arrandoon_ was by men walking in front of her and pushing on the bergs with long poles, hardly could she make a headway of half a mile an hour, and there were twenty good miles to traverse! it was a weary task, but the men bent their backs cheerfully to it, as british sailors ever do to a duty that has to be performed. [light lie the earth on the breast of the gallant captain brownrigg, r.n., and green be the grass on his grave. my young readers know the story; it is such stories as his they ought to read; such men as he ought to be enshrined in their memory. betrayed by treacherous arabs, with a mere handful of men he fought their powerful dhow and guns; and even when hope itself had fled he made no attempt to escape, but fought on and fought on, till he fell pierced with twenty wounds. he was a heroic sailor, and _he was doing his duty_!] even had it been possible to keep up the men's strength, forty hours must have elapsed ere the _arrandoon_ would be rising and falling on blue water. but many hours had not gone by ere the men got a rest they little cared for--for down went the swell, the motion among the bergs was stilled, and frost began its work of welding them together. "just like my luck, now, isn't it?" said silas, when he found the ship could not be budged another inch, and was quite surrounded by heavy ice. "i don't believe in luck," said captain mcbain; "and, after all, things might have turned out even worse than they have." "oh!" said silas, "i'm not the man to grumble or growl. we are comfortable and jolly, and we have plenty to eat." "we won't have much sport, though," said rory, with a sigh, "if we have to remain here long, for the bears will follow the seals, won't they?" "that they will," replied silas, "and small blame to them; it is exactly what i should like to do myself." "well, you can, you know," said mcbain, laughing. "we have a splendid balloon. de vere will take you for a fly i'm sure, if you'll ask him." "what! trust myself up in the clouds!" cried silas; "thank you very much for the offer, but if ill-luck has kept following my footsteps all my life, ill-luck would be sure to follow me if i attempted any aerial flights, and i'd come down by the run." "well, we're fairly beset, anyhow," said rory, "and i daresay we'll have to try to make the best of it." so guns were placed disconsolately ill the racks, as soon as the terrible black frost had quite set in, or if they were taken out when a walk was determined on, it was only for fashion's sake, and for the fear that an occasional bear might be met with. but it was good fun breaking bottles with rifle bullets, and good practice as well. as the days went on, and there were no signs of the pack breaking up, a number of books were taken down to be perused, much time was spent in playing piano or violin, or both together, while after dinner the hours were devoted to talking. many a racy yarn was told by cobb, many an adventure by seth, and many a queer experience by silas grig, and duly appreciated, too. so the evenings did not seem long, whatever the days did. said silas one morning to mcbain, as they stood together leaning on the bulwarks. "i don't quite like the look of that ice, captain; it is precious big, and if it came on to press a bit, why, it would go clean through the ribs of us, strong though our good ships are. and that cockle-shell of cobb's would be the very first to go down to the bottom." "or up to the top," suggested mcbain. "what?" laughed silas; "would you clap your balloon top of her, and lift her out like?" "no, not that; but we could hoist her high and dry on top of the ice easily enough." "well, i declare," cried silas, clapping one brawny hand on his knee, "that is a glorious idea. and an old iceman like me to never think of it!" then silas's face fell, as he said,-- "ah! but you couldn't hoist me up too. the _canny scotia_ would go down; that would be more of my luck." "well, but i've thought of a plan. i have torpedoes on board. i'll have a go at this ice, anyhow." "make a kind of harbour, you mean?" inquired silas. "that's it," was the reply. "but," said silas, still somewhat dubious, "you know the currents run like mill-streams in under the ice. well, suppose your torpedoes were to be floated in under my ship, and went bursting off there?" "well, your ship would be hoisted," replied mcbain; "that would be all." "ay!" said silas, "that would be all; that would end all the luck, good or bad." "but there is no fear of any such accident. and now let us just have a try at it." blowing up icebergs with torpedoes is by no means difficult, when you know how to do it, but sometimes the current will shift the guiding-pole or rope, and were it to get under the stern of the ship itself, it would make it awkward for the arctic explorers. in the present instance everything went well, and berg after berg succumbed to the force of the gun-cotton, until the last, when, by some mismanagement, one torpedo was shifted right under a piece of ice on which stood, tools in hand, about ten men, besides silas, rory, and captain mcbain himself. of course it was not likely that boy rory was going to be far away when any fun was going on, so that is why he happened to be on top of this identical berg when the blowing-up took place. and here is precisely what was seen by disinterested bystanders--a smother of snow and water and ice, mixed, rising in shape of a rounded column over ten feet high, and, dimly visible in the misty midst thereof, a minglement of hands and heads and arms and legs. the sound accompanying the columnar rising was something between a puff and a thud; i cannot better describe it. then there was a sudden collapse, and next moment the arms and the legs and the hands and the heads were all seen sprawling and struggling in the frothy, seething water below. it simply and purely looked as if they were all being boiled alive in a huge cauldron. but the strangest part of the story is to come. with the exception of a few trifling braises, not one of those who were thus surprised by so sudden a rise in the world was a bit the worse. the ducking in the cold sea was certainly far from pleasant, but dry clothes and hot coffee soon put that to rights, and they came up smiling again. freezing powders, who was on deck at the time of the accident, was dreadfully frightened, and ran down below instantly to report matters to his favourite. "what's the row? what's the row? what's the row?" cried the bird as the boy entered the saloon. "don't talk so fast, cockie, and i'll tell you," said freezing powders, sinking down on the deck with one arm on the cage. "i tink i'se all right at present, though my breaf is all frightened out of my body, and i must look 'bout as pale as you, cockie." "de-ah me!" said cockie. "but don't hang by de legs, cockie. when you wants a mouf-ful of hemp just hop down for it, else de blood all run to your poor head, den you die in a fit?" "poor de-ah cockie! pretty old cockie!" said the bird, in mournful tones. "and now i got my breaf again, i try to 'splain to you what am de row. de drefful world round de ship is all white, cockie, and to-day dey has commenced blowing it up, and jus' now, cockie, dey has commenced to blow derselves up?" "de-ah me!" from cockie. "dat am quite true, cockie, and de heads and de legs am flying about in all directions! it is too drefful to behold!" "now then, young roley poley!" cried peter, entering at that moment, "toddle away forward for some boiling-hot coffee, and run quicker than ever you ran in your life." "i'se off like a bird!" said freezing powders, darting out of the cabin as if there had been a boot after him. chapter twenty two. captain cobb retires--more torpedoing--the great ice-hole--strange sport--the terrible zugaena--the death struggle. both captain mcbain and silas grig felt more easy in their minds when they had got fairly rid of the green-rooted monsters of icebergs that had lain so placidly yet so threateningly alongside their respective ships. and oh! by the way, how very calm, harmless, and gentle bergs like these _can_ look, when there is no disturbing element beneath them, their snow-clad tops asleep and glistening in the sunlight; but i have seen them angry, grinding and crashing together, each upheaval representing a height of from fifteen to thirty feet; each upheaval representing a strength hydraulic equal in force to the might of the great ocean itself. our heroes had taken time by the forelock. they had "guncottoned the bergs," as captain cobb termed it, and lay for the time being in square ice-locked harbours, and could bid defiance to almost any ordinary occurrence, whether gale of wind in the pack or swell from the distant sea. as the days went by the black frost seemed only to increase in severity. "how long d'ye think," said captain cobb, one morning, while at breakfast in the _arrandoon_--"how long d'ye think this state of affairs'll last? 'cause, mind ye, i begin to feel a kind o' riled already." mcbain looked inquiringly at silas. "if it's asking me you are," said the latter, "i makes answer and says, it may be for months, but it can't be for ever." "but the frost isn't likely to go for a week, is it now?" "that it won't, worse luck," was the reply. "well, then, gentlemen," said cobb, "this child is going off, straight away out o' here back to jan mayen." "back to jan mayen?" "back to jan mayen!" everybody said, or seemed to say, in one breath. "i reckon ye heard aright," said the imperturbable yankee. "it's just like this, ye see," he continued. "i'm paid by my employers to make observations on the old island down yonder; stopping here ain't taking sights, but it's taking the company's dollars for nothing, so if you'll--either o' ye--lend me a hand or two, and promise to hoist up cobb's cockle-shell in the event of a squeeze, cobb himself is off home, 'tain't mor'n fifty miles." the journey was a dangerous one, nobody knew that better than the bold american himself, and it was a true sense of duty to his employers that caused him to undertake it. but having once made up his mind to a thing, cobb was not the man to be deterred from accomplishing it. so, with many a good wish for his safety, accompanied by only three men, he set out on his long journey over the snow. rory, from the deck of the _arrandoon_, and mcbain from the nest, watched them as long as they were in sight. indeed, i am not at all sure that rory did not feel a little sorry he had not asked leave to accompany them, so fond was he of adventure in every shape and form. it was a relief for him--and not for him alone--when mcbain, in order to break the monotony of existence, and by way of doing something, proposed trying the effects of his torpedoes again at some distance from the ship, and forming a great ice-hole. "things will come up to breathe, and look about them, you know," he explained, "and then we may get some sport, and silas may bag a seal or two." our heroes were overjoyed when the working party was called away. at last there was a prospect of doing something, and seeing an animal of some kind, for not only the bears, but the very birds had deserted them. sometimes, indeed, a solitary snowbird would come flying around the ships. it would hover for awhile in the air, giving vent to many a peevish, mournful chirp, then fly away again. "no, no, no!" it seemed to say, "there is nothing good to eat down there--no raw flesh, no blood--and so i'm off again to the distant sealing ground, where the yellow bear prowls, and the snow is red with blood." a few hours' work with torpedoes, picks, and ice-saws, was enough to form an opening big enough for the purpose required. the broken pieces were either "landed high and dry," or sunk beneath the pack, and so the work was completed. "it'll entail a deal of trouble, gentlemen," said dr mcflail, "to keep that hole clear with the temperature which we are at present enjoying-- or rather enduring." "there is that in the sea, doctor," said silas, with a knowing nod, "which will save us the trouble." he wasn't wrong. not an hour elapsed ere a few black heads, with great wondering eyes, appeared above the surface and peered around them, and blinked at the sun, and seemed to enjoy mightily a sniff of the fresh air and a blink of the daylight. "this is nice, now," they said, "and ever so much better than being down there in the dark--quite an oasis in the desert." bang! bang! two of them slowly sank to rise no more. "this won't do," said allan; "it is only murder to shoot poor seals that we cannot land and make some good out off. what is to be done?" "be quiet with ye!" said rory. "sure yonder is seth himself, coming straight from the ship, in his suit of skins, and if he isn't up to some manoeuvre then my name isn't roderick, that is all." seth _was_ up to something; he had a coil of rope with him, and the nattiest little harpoon that ever was handled. "fire away, gentlemen!" he said, lying down on the sunny side of a small hummock pretty close to the water's edge, "only don't hit the old trapper; he'd rather die in his bed if it be all the same to you." undeterred by the fate that had befallen their companions, it was not long before other seals popped up to breathe. our heroes were ready for them, and two again were killed, one being missed. seth was ready for them, too. he sprang to his feet, and ere the smoke had melted in the thin air, one of the seals was neatly harpooned and dragged to the edge. here it was gaffed, and lifted or pulled bodily on to the ice by help of ralph's powerful arm. the harpoon was released, and before the other seal had time to sink it was served in precisely the same manner. the sport was exceedingly novel, and combined, as rory said, "all the pleasures of shooting and fishing in one glorious whole." no work on natural history, so far as my reading goes, remarks upon the exceedingly great speed exhibited by the greenland seal in his flight-- it is in reality a flight--through and beneath the water. i have often been astonished at the rapidity of their movements; so swiftly do they dart along that the eye can barely follow them for the moment or two they are visible. this power of swimming enables them to pursue their finny prey for many miles under an ice-pack; it doubtless also enables them to escape the fangs of their natural enemy, the great greenland shark (_scymnus borealis_), and on the present occasion it accounted for their appearance at the great breathing-hole made for them by the torpedoes and ice-saws of the _arrandoon_. the water under the pack would be everywhere else as black and dark as midnight, but through this opening the sunshine would stream in straight and powerful rays, and not seals alone, but fishes and monsters of the deep of many kinds, would naturally come towards the light, as the salmon does to the glimmer from the torch of the highland poacher. the sport obtained at the opening was not of a very exciting character on the first day, but next morn, to their joy, they found that a bear had been around, and had left the marks of his broad soles in the snow. many more seals, too, came up to breathe, and more harpoons had to be requisitioned. silas was once more in his glory at the prospect of adding a few more skins, and a few more tons of oil, to the cargo he had already shipped. towards afternoon the fun grew fast and furious, and when peter came in person to announce dinner, he could hardly get his officers to pay any heed to the summons. even cockie down in the saloon heard the noise, and must needs inquire, as he stretched his neck and fastened one bead of an eye on his little black master. "what's all the to-do about? what's all the to-do about?" "i don't know," was the reply of freezing powders. "i don't know no more nor you do, cockie. i tinks dey has gone to blow derselves all to pieces again." dinner was partaken of in a merrier mood that day than it had been for weeks. silas was there, of course; in fact, he had become an honorary member of the _arrandoon_ mess. "you see, captain grig," mcbain had observed, "we must have you as much with as now as we can, for we soon go different roads, don't we?" "ah! yes," replied silas, with a bit of a sigh; "you go north; god send you safe back; and i go back to my little wife and large family." "happy reunion, won't it be?" said allan. the eyes of silas sparkled, but his heart was too full of happy thoughts to say more than simply,-- "yes." "won't the green ginger fly?" said rory. "i say, boys," ralph put in, "this sort of thing positively gives a man a kind of an appetite." rory looked at him with such a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that ralph longed to pinch him. "just as if ever you lost yours," said rory. at this moment the sound of a rifle was heard, apparently close to the ship. "it's the trapper," cried rory; "it's friend seth. sure enough i know the charming music of his long gun. now, ray, i'll wager my fiddle he has bagged a bear." rory was right for once, and here is how it fell out. several bears had that day scented the battle from afar, or were attracted by the noise of the malleys and gulls that were now wheeling around the ships in thousands. they stood aloof while shooting was going on, sitting on their haunches licking their chops, greedy, hungry, expectant; but as soon as the sportsmen went off to dine,-- "now is our time," said one, "to get a bit of fresh meat." "come on, then," cried another; "there are a hundred seals lying on the ice. hurrah?" so down they came to the feast. they had not had such a treat for a whole day, and that is a long time for a bear to fast, and they made good use of their time, you may be sure, and so earnest were they, that they did not perceive a long, hairy creature that came creeping stealthily towards them. when at last one of them did observe this strange animal "with the tail of his eye," he said to himself,-- "oh! it is only a tiny bit of a young seal, hunting for a lost mother, perhaps. well, i'll have it presently by way of dessert." and almost immediately after, the sound that had startled our friends at _their_ dessert rang out in the clear, frosty air, and bruin's head dropped never more to rise. his brother bears suddenly discovered they had eaten enough; anyhow, they remembered that it was always best to rise up from the table feeling that you could eat a little more, so they shambled away across the pack as fast as four legs could carry them. "bravo, seth, old boy," cried rory and allan, coming on the scene. ralph only waited to finish some pastry, then he too joined them. "why," said the latter, "it is the biggest bear we have seen yet." in true trapper fashion, seth was already on his knees beside the enormous carcass, engaged with knife and fist and elbow, "working the rascal out of his jacket," as he called it, when rory, who was not far from the edge of the water, started, or rather sprang back in horror. "oh! allan, allan! ray, ray! look!" he cried. well might he cry "look," for a more terrible or revolting apparition never raises head over the black waters of the greenland ocean than the zugaena, or hammer-headed shark. the skull is in shape precisely what the name indicates, that of a gigantic hammer, with a great eye at each end, and the mouth beneath. this shark is not unfrequently met with in the northern seas, and he is just as fierce as he is fearful to behold. allan and ralph both saw the brute, and neither could repress a shudder. it appeared but for a few moments, then dived below again. silas and mcbain, coming up at the time, were told of the occurrence. "i know the vile beasts well," said silas, "and they do say that they never appear in these seas without bringing a big slice o' ill-luck in their wake. that is unless you catches them, and sometimes that doesn't save the ship. when i was skipper o' the _penelope_, and that is more than ten years ago, there wasn't a lazier chap in the crew than snuffy sandy foster. he wasn't a deal o' use down below, he did nothing on deck, and he never went aloft. he had two favourite positions: one was sitting before a joint of junk, with a knife in his hand; t'other was leaning against the bulwarks with a pipe in his mouth, and we never could make out which he liked best. "`did ever you do anything clever in your life, sandy?' i asked one day. "sandy took his pipe out of his mouth and eyed the mainmast for fully half a minute. then he brought his eyes round to my face, and said,-- "`not that i can remember o', sir.' "`the first time, sandy,' says i, `that you do anything clever, i'll give you a pair of the best canvas trousers in the ship.' "sandy's eyes a kind of sparkled; i'd never seen them sparkle before. "`i'll win them,' said sandy, `wait till ye see.' "and, indeed, gentlemen, i hadn't long to wait. one day the brig was dead before the wind under a crowd o' cloth, for there wasn't much wind, but a nasty rumble-tumble sea; there was no doubt, gentlemen, from the looks o' that sea, that we had just come through a gale o' wind, and there was evidence enough to go to jury on that there was another not far away. well, it was just in the dusk o' the evening--we were pretty far south--that the cry got up,-- "`man overboard.' "it was our bo's'n's boy, a lad of fourteen, who had gone by the run. singing out to the mate to lay to, i ran forward, and if ever i forget the expression of the poor bo's'n's face as he wrung his hands and cried, `oh, save my laddie! oh, save my laddie!' my name will change to something else than silas. "`i'll save him,' cried a voice behind me. some one rushed past. there was a splash in the water next moment, and i had barely time to see it was sandy. before the boat reached the spot they were a quarter of a mile astern, but they were saved; they found the bo's'n's laddie riding `cockerty-coosie' on sandy's shoulder, and sandy spitting out the mouthfuls of salt water, laughing and crying,-- "`i've won the breeks! i've won the canvas breeks, boys!' "he had won them, and that right nobly, too. well, after he had worn them for over a month, it became painfully evident even to sandy that they sorely needed washing; but, woe is me! sandy was too lazy to put a hand to them. but he thought of a plan, nevertheless, to save trouble. he steeped them in a soda ley, attached a strong line to them, and pitched them overboard to tow. "when, after two hours' towing, sandy went to haul them up, great was his astonishment to find a great hammer-head spring half out of the water and seize them. sandy had never seen so awful a monster before; he put it down as an evil spirit. "`let go,' he roared; `let go my breeks, ye beast.' "now, maybe, with those hooked teeth of his, the shark could not let go; anyhow, he did not. "`i dinna ken who ye are, or what ye are,' cried sandy, `but ye'll no get my breeks. ah! bide a wee.' "luckily the dolphin-striker lay handy, sandy made a grab at it, and next minute it was hard and fast in the hammer-head's neck. to see how that monster wriggled and fought, more like a fiend than a fish, when we got him on deck, would have--but look--look--r--" seth had not been idle while his companions were talking. he had cut off choice pieces of blubber and thrown them into the sea; he had coiled his rope on the ice close by; then, harpoon in hand, he knelt ready to strike. nor had he long to wait. the bait took, the bait was taken, the harpoon had left the trapper's hand and gone deep into the monster's body. i will not attempt to describe the scene that followed--it was a death-scene that no pen could do justice to--the wild struggle of the giant shark in the water, his mad and frantic motions ere clubbed to death on the ice, and his terrible appearance as he snapped his dreadful jaws at everything within reach; but here is a fact, strange and weird though it may read--fully half an hour after the creature seemed dead, and lying on its side, while our heroes stood silently round it, with the wild birds wheeling and screaming closely overhead, the zugaena suddenly threw itself on its stomach as if about to swim away. it was the last of its movements, and a mere spasmodic and painless one, though very distressing to witness. chapter twenty three. rory's reverie--silas on the scymnus borealis--the battle with the sharks--rory gets in for it again--thrown among the sharks. the ships still lay hard and fast in the ice-pack, many miles to the nor'ard and eastward of the isle of jan mayen. there was as yet no sign of the frost giving way. day after day the bay ice between the bergs got thicker and thicker, and the thermometer still stood steadily well down below zero. but the wind never blew, and there never was a speck of cloud in the brilliant sapphire sky, nor even haze itself to shear the sun of his beams; so the cold was hardly felt, and after a brisk walk or scamper over the ice our heroes felt so warm that they were in the habit of throwing themselves down on the snow on the southern side of a hummock of ice. book in hand, rory would sometimes lie thus for fully half an hour on a stretch. not always reading, though; the fact of rory's having a book in his hand was no proof that he was reading, for just as often he was dreaming; and i'll tell you a little secret-- there were a pair of beautiful eyes which were filled with tears when last he had seen them, there were two rosy lips that had quivered as they parted to breathe the word "good-bye." these, and a soft, small hand that had lain for a moment in his, haunted him by night and by day, and seemed ever present with him through all his wild adventures. ah! but they didn't make him unhappy, though; no, but quite the reverse. he was reclining thus one day all by himself, about a quarter of a mile from his ship, when ralph and mcbain came gently up behind him, walking as silently as the crisp snow, that felt like powdered glass under their feet, would permit them. "hullo! rory," cried mcbain, in a voice of thunder. startled from his reverie, rory sprang to his feet, and instinctively grasped his rifle. his friends laughed at him. "it is somewhat late to seize your rifle now, my boy," said mcbain; "supposing now we'd been a bear, why, we would be eating you at this present moment." "or making a mouse of you," added ralph, "as the yellow bear did of poor freezing powders; and at this very minute you'd be-- "`dancin' for de dear life among de greenland snow.'" "i was reading," said rory, smiling, "that beautiful poem of wordsworth, _we are seven_." "wordsworth's _we are seven_?" cried ralph, laughing. "oh! row, row, you'll be the death of me some day. since when did you learn to read with your book upside down?" "had i now?" said rory, with an amused look of candour. "in troth i daresay you are right." "but come on, row, boy," continued ralph, "luncheon is all ready, peter is waiting, and after lunch silas grig is going to show as some fun." "what more malley-shooting?" asked rory. "no, row, boy," was the reply; "he is going to lead us forth to battle against the sharks." "against the sharks!" exclaimed rory, incredulous. "i'm not in fun, really," replied ralph. "silas tells us they are in shoals of thousands at present under us; that the sea swarms with them, some fifteen feet long, others nearer twenty." "oh!" said row; "this _is_ interesting. come on; i'm ready." while the trio stroll leisurely shipwards over the snow, let me try to explain to my reader what rory meant by malley-shooting, as taught them by silas grig. the term, or name, "malley," is that which is given by greenlandmen to the arctic gull. although not so charming in plumage as the snowbird, it is nevertheless a very handsome bird, and has many queer ways of its own which are interesting to the naturalist, and which you do not find described in books. these gulls build their nests early in the season on the cliffs of faroe and shetland, and probably, though i have never found them, in sheltered caves of jan mayen and western greenland as well. despite the extreme cold, they manage to bring forth and rear their young successfully, and are always ready to follow greenland ships in immense flocks. wherever work is going on, wherever the crack of the rifle is heard on the pack, wherever the snow is stained crimson and yellow with blood, the malleys will be there in daring thousands. the most curious part of the thing is this: they possess a power of either scent or sight, which enables them to discover their quarry, although scores of miles away from it. for example--the arctic gulls, as a rule, do not follow a ship for sake of the bits of bread and fat that may be thrown overboard. some of them do, i know, but i look upon these as merely the lazaroni, the beggars of their tribe; your healthy, youthful, aristocratic malley prefers something he considers better. give him blubber to eat, or the flesh of a new slain seal, and he will follow you far enough. now a ship may be lying becalmed off this pack, with no seals in sight, and doing nothing; if so she will be deserted by these birds. not from the crow's-nest, though aided by the most powerful telescope, will you be able to descry a single gull; but no sooner is a sealskin or two hauled on deck to be cleared of their fat, than notice seems to be flashed to the far-off gulls, and in a few minutes they are winging around you, making the welkin ring with their wild, delighted screams. they alight in the water around a morsel of meat in such bunches, that a table-cloth would cover two dozen of them. having had enough--and that "enough" means something enormous--they go off for a "fly," just as tumbling pigeons do. you may see them in hundreds high in air, sailing round and round, enjoying themselves apparently to the very utmost, and shrieking with joy. now is the time for the skua to attack them. a bold, black, hawklike rascal is this skua, a robber and a thief. he never comes within gunshot of a ship. he is as wild and untamable as the north wind itself; yet, no sooner have the malleys commenced their post-prandial gambols than he is in the midst of them. he does not want to kill them; only some one or more must disgorge their food. on this the skua lives. no wonder that greenland sailors call him the unclean bird. the malley-gull floats on the waves as lightly and gently as a child's toy air-ball would. his usual diet is fish, except in sealing times; and of the fish he catches the marauding skua never fails to get his share. it is for the sake of the feathers sailors shoot these birds on the ice, for they are nearly as well feathered as an eider duck. getting tired of shooting seals in the water, rory and allan one day, leaving the others on the banks of the great ice-hole, determined to make a bag of feathers. and here is how they bagged their game. armed with fowling-pieces, they retired to some distance from the water party and lay down behind a hummock of ice. here they might have lain until this day without a bird looking twice in their direction had they not provided themselves with a lure. this lure was simply a pair of the wings of a gull, which one waved above his head, while the other prepared to fire right and left. and not a minute would these wings be waved aloft ere the gulls, with that strange curiosity inherent in all wild creatures, would begin to circle around, coming nearer and nearer, tack and half-tack, until they were within reach of the guns, when--down they came. but the untimely end of one brace nor twenty did not prevent their companions from trying to solve the mystery of the waving wings. luncheon was on the table, and our friends were seated around it, all looking happy and hungry. rory would have liked to have asked silas grig right straight away about the expedition against the sharks but for one thing--he didn't like to appear too inquisitive; and, for another, he was not quite sure even now that it was not one of ralph's pretty jokes. but when everybody had been served, when weather and future prospects, the state of the thermometer and height of the barometer, had been discussed, rory found he could not contain himself any longer. "what are you going to be doing after lunch?" he asked silas, pointedly. "aha, boy rory!" was the reply; "we'll have such sport as you never saw the likes o' before!" rory now began to see there really was no joke about the matter; and ralph, who was sitting next to him, pinched him for his doubt and misbelief. the two young men could read each other's thoughts like books. "do you mean to say you are going to catch sharks in earnest, you know?" asked rory. "well," said silas, with a bit of a laugh, "i'm going to have as good a try at it as ever i had. and as for catching 'em in earnest, i'm thinking it won't be fun--for the sharks!" "it is the _scymnus borealis_, isn't it?" said dr sandy mcflail, "belongin', if my memory serves me, to the natural family _squalidae_--a powerful brute, and a vera dangerous, too." "you may call him the _aurora borealis_ if you like, doctor," said silas; "and as for his family connections i know nought, but i daresay he comes from a jolly bad stock." "natural history books," said allan, "don't speak of their being so very numerous." "natural history books!" reiterated silas, with some warmth of disdain. "what do they know? what can they teach a man? write a complete history of all the creatures that move about on god's fair earth, that fly in his air or swim in his sea, and you'd fill saint paul's with books from top to bottom--from the mighty cellars beneath to the golden cross itself. no, take my advice, boy rory; if you want to study nature, put little faith in books. the classification is handy, say you? yes, doctor; and i've seen a stripling fresh from college look as proud as a two-year-old peacock because he could spin you off the greek names of a few specimens in the british museum, though he couldn't have told you the ways and habits of any one of them to save him from having his leave stopped. there is only one way, gentlemen, to study natural history; you must go to the great book of nature itself--ay, and be content, and thankful, too, if, during even a long lifetime, you are able to learn the contents of even a single page of it." rory, and the doctor, too, looked at silas with a kind of new-born admiration; there was more in this man, with his weather-beaten, flower-pot-coloured face, than they had had any idea of. "if i had time, gentlemen," silas added, "i could tell you some queer stories about sharks. `i reckon,' as poor old cobb used to say, that some o' them would raise your hair a bit, too!" "and what kind of a monster is this greenland shark?" asked allan. "no more a monster," said silas, "than i am. god made us both, and we have each some end to fulfil in life. but if you want me to tell you something about him, i'll confess to you i love the animal about as much as i do an alligator. he comes prowling around the icebergs when we are sealing to see what he can pick up in the shape of a dead or wounded seal, a chunk o' blubber, or a man's leg. he is neither dainty nor particular, he has the appetite of a healthy ostrich, and about as much conscience as a coal-carter's horse. he is as wary as a five-season fox, and when he pays your ship a visit when out at sea, he looks as humble and unsophisticated as a bull trout. he'll take whatever you like to throw him, though--anything, in fact, from a cow's-heel to the cabin boy--and he'll swallow a red-hot brick rather than go away with an empty stomach. but when he comes around the ice at old-sealing time he doesn't come alone, he brings his father and mother with him, and his uncles and aunts, and apparently all his natural family, as the doctor calls it. and fine fun they have, though they don't agree particularly well even _en famille_. i've seen five of them on to one seal crang, and there was little interchange of courtesies, i can tell you. he's not a brave fish, the greenland shark, big and all as he is. if you fall into the water among a score of them your best plan is to keep cool and kick. yes, gentlemen, by keeping cool and kicking plenty i've known more than one man escape without a bite. the getting out is the worst, though, for as long as you splash they keep at a distance and look on; they don't quite know what to make of you; but as soon as you get a hold of the end of the rope, and are being drawn out, look sharp, that's all, or it will be `snap!' and you will be minus one leg before you can wink, and thankful you may be it isn't two. a mighty tough skin has the greenland shark," continued silas; "i've played upon the back of one for over half an hour with a colt's revolver, and it just seemed to tickle him--nothing more. i don't think sharks have much natural affection, and they are no respecters of persons. i do believe they would just as soon dine off little freezing powders here as they would off a leg of mcbain." "oh, oh, massa silas!" cried freezing powders, "don't talk like dat; you makes my flesh all creep like nuffin' at all!" "they are slow in their movements, aren't they?" said the doctor. "ay!" said silas, "when they get everything their own way; but they are fierce, revengeful, and terrible in their wrath. an angry shark will bite a bit out of your boat, collar an oar, or do anything to spite you, though it generally ends in his having his own head split in the long run." [silas grig's description of the greenland shark is a pretty correct one, so far as my own experience goes.--g.s.] "the men are all ready, sir," said stevenson, entering the cabin at that moment, "to go over the side, sir." "thank you," said the captain; "send them on to the ice, then, for a general skylark till we come up." when the officers did come up they found all the men on the ice, and a pretty row they were having. they were running, racing, jumping high leap and low leap, boxing, and fencing with single-sticks, quarter-staves, and foils; and last but not least, a party were dancing the wild and exciting reels of scotland, with peter playing to them just as loudly as he knew how to, although his eyes seemed starting from his head, and his face was as red as a dorking's comb in laying season. then it was "hurrah for the ice-hole!" and "hurrah for the sharks!" silas did not take very long to get his party--his fishing-party, as he called it--into working order. he evidently meant business, and expected it, too. he had seven or eight long lines, to each of which was attached a piece of chain and an immense shark-hook. these were baited with pieces of blubber; the men were armed with long knives and clubs. so sure was silas grig of capturing a big haul of these sea-fiends, the greenland sharks, that he had a large fire of wood lighted on the ice at some little distance, and over it, suspended by a kind of shears, hung an immense cauldron. in this it was intended to boil the livers of the sharks in order to extract the oil, which is the most valuable part of the animal. until tempted by huge pieces of seal-flesh hardly a shark showed fin; but when once their appetites were wetted then--! i cannot, nor will i attempt to describe this battle with the sharks, although such a fight i have been eyewitness to. sometimes as many as two were hauled out at once; it required the united strength of fifteen or twenty men to land them. then came the struggle on the ice, the clubbing, the axing, and the death, during which many a man bit the snow, though none were grievously wounded. before the sun pointed to midnight, between thirty and forty immense sharks had been captured, and the oil from their livers weighed nearly a ton. poor rory--to whom all the best of the fun and all the worst misfortunes seemed always to fall--had a terrible adventure during the battle. carried away by his enthusiasm, with club in hand, he was engaging one of the largest sharks landed. the brute bent himself suddenly, then as suddenly straightened himself out, and away went boy rory, like an arrow from a cross-bow, alighting in the very centre of the pool. for a moment every one was struck dumb with horror! but rory himself never lost his presence of mind. he remembered what silas had said about splashing and kicking to keep the sharks at bay. splash? i should think he did splash, and kick, too; indeed, kicking is hardly any name for his antics. he made a wheel of himself in the water. he seemed all arms and legs, and as for his head, it was just as often up as down, and _vice versa_; and all the while he was issuing orders to those on the bank--a word or two at a time, whenever his head happened to be uppermost, so that in the midst of the splashing and spluttering his speech ran like this: "stand by"--(splutter, splutter)--"you fellows"--(splash, splash)--"up there"--(splutter) "to pull quick"--(splash)--"as soon as!"--(splutter, splutter)--"catch the rope."--(splash, splash)--"now lads, now!"--(splutter, splutter, splash, splash, splutter, splutter, splash). "hurrah!" he cried, when he found himself on the ice. "hurrah! boys. cheer, boys, cheer. safe to bank! hurrah! and both my legs as sound as a bell, and never a toe missing from any single one of the two o' them. hurrah! sure it's myself'll be queen o' the may to-morrow. hurrah!" yes, reader, the very next day was may-day, and on that day there are such doings on greenland ships as you never see in england. chapter twenty four. may-day in the arctic regions. may-day! may-day in england! surely, even to the minds of the youngest among us, these words bring some pleasant recollections. "ah! but," i think i hear you complain, "the may-days are not now what they were in the good old times; not the may-days we read of in books; not the may-days of merrie england. where are the may-poles, with their circles of rosy-cheeked children dancing gleesomely around them? where are the revels? where are the games? where is the little maiden persistent, who plagued her mother so lest she should forget to wake and call her early-- "`because i'm to be queen o' the may, mother, i'm to be queen o' the may?' "and echo answers, `where?'" these things, maiden included, have passed away; they have fled like the fairies before the shriek of engine and rattle of railway wheels. but may-day in england! why, there is some pleasure and some joy left in it even yet. summer comes with it, or promises it will soon be on the wing. already in the meadows the cattle wade knee-deep in dewy grass, and cull sweet cowslips and daisies. a balmier air breathes over the land; the rising sun is rosy with hope; the lark springs from his nest among the tender corn, and mounts higher to sing than he has ever done before; flowers are blooming on every brae; the mossy banks are redolent of wild thyme; roses begin to peep coyly out in the hedgerows, and butterflies spread their wings, as a sailor spreads a sail, and go fluttering away through the gladsome sunshine. and yonder--why, yonder _is_ a little maiden, and a very pretty one, too, though she isn't going to be queen o' the may. no, but she is tripping along towards the glade, where the pink-blossomed hawthorn grows, and the yellow scented furze. she is going to-- bathe her sweet face in may-morn dew, to make her look lovely all the year through. she glances shyly around her, hoping that no one sees her. you and i, dear reader, are far too manly to stand and stare so. hey! presto! and the scene is changed. may-day! may-day in greenland! an illimitable ocean of ice, stretching away on all sides towards every point of the compass from where those ships are lying beset. it looks like some measureless wold covered with the snows of midwinter. it is early morning, though the sun shines brightly in a sky of cloudless blue, and, save for the footfall of the solitary watchman who paces the deck of the _arrandoon_, there is not a sound to be heard, the stillness everywhere is as the stillness of death. an hour or two goes slowly by, then the watchman approaches the great bell that hangs amidships. dong-dong! dong-dong! dong-dong! dong-dong! eight bells. the men spring up from hatch and companion-way, and soon the decks are crowded and the crew are busy enough. they have discussed their breakfast long ago, and have since been hard at work on the may-day garland, which they now proceed to hoist on high, 'twixt fore and main masts. that garland is quite a work of art, and a very gay one, too. not a man in the ship that has not contributed a few ribbons to aid in decorating it. those ribbons had been kept for this special purpose, and were the last loving gifts of sisters, wives, or sweethearts ere the vessel set sail for the sea of ice. but there is more to be done than hoisting the garland. the ship has to be dressed, and when this is finished, with her flags all floating around her, she will look as beautiful as a bride on her marriage morning. none the worse for the ducking and fright of the previous day, rory was first up on this particular may-day, and tubbed and dressed long before either allan or ralph was awake. "get up, ray!" cried rory, entering his friend's cabin. "ray, _ray_, ray!" the last "ray" was shouted. "hullo! hullo!" cried ray. "oh! it's you, is it, row? is breakfast all ready, old man?" "ray, arise, you lazy dog!" continued row, shaking him by the shoulder. "this is may-morning, ray, and i'm to be queen of the may, my boy, i'm to be queen of the may!" at half-past eight our heroes, captain mcbain included, went on deck in a body, and this was the time for the crew to cluster up the rigging, man the yards, and give voice to a ringing cheer; nay, not one cheer only, but three times three; and hardly had the sound died away ere it was taken up and re-echoed back by the crew of the _canny scotia_. it seemed that captain cobb's cockle-shell was not to be left out of the fun either, for the crew of even that tiny craft must man the rigging and cheer, though after the lusty roar that had gone up from the other ships, their voices sounded like that of a chicken learning to crow. after this, while the men went to work to rig a great platform on the upper deck, peter, arrayed in fullest highland costume, played pibroch after pibroch, and wild march after wild march, as he went strutting up and down the quarter-deck. the decks were cleared of everything that could be removed, and a great tent erected from mizen to foremast; when this was lined with flags there was but little light, but lamps in clusters were hung here and there, and a stove was brought up to give heat, so that the whole place was as gay as could be, and comfortable as well. at one end of the tent a platform was erected. there the piano was placed all handy, and rory's fiddle and the doctor's flute, as well as several armchairs and a kind of a throne, the use of which will soon be seen. on the stage at one side was an immense tub nearly filled with cold, icy water; two steps led up to it, and on the edge thereof was a revolving chair. very comfortable it looked indeed, but, on touching a spring, backwards it went, and whoever might be sitting on it had the benefit of a beautiful bath. my readers already guess what this is for. yes, for may-day in greenland is not only a day of fun and frolic, but the self-same kind of performance takes place as on southern ships while crossing the line. the day itself was dedicated to games on the ice, for not until towards evening would the real fun begin. the seals had a rest to-day, and so had the sharks; even the terrible zugaena wasn't once thought of, and bruin himself might sit on one end licking his chops and looking on, so long as he kept at a respectful distance. the games were both scotch and english, a happy medley in which all hands joined. the morning saw cricket and football matches in full swing, the afternoon golf--and golf played on hummocky ice _is_ golf--and hockey. peter was the band, and right well he played; but when, tired of march quadrille, or pibroch, he burst into a highland reel, and the crews began to dance--well, the scene on the snow grew exciting indeed. it was grotesque enough, too, in all conscience, for everybody, without exception, was dressed in fancy costume. no wonder, too, that cockie, whom his master had brought on deck to look down on them from the bulwarks, lost all control of himself, and shouted, "go on--go on--keep it up--keep it up." then when cockie began to throw his head back and shriek with laughter, the men couldn't resist it any longer; they joined in that laugh, and laughed till sides ached and eyes ran water, and many had to roll in the snow to prevent catastrophes. but the louder the men laughed, all the louder laughed cockie, till freezing powders was obliged to run below with him at last. "oh!" said his master, as he restored the cage to its corner, "i tell you all day, cockie, you eat too much hemp. it's drefful, cockie, to hear you laugh like all dat." suddenly from the bows of the _arrandoon_ a big gun is fired, and the revel stops. then comes a hail from the crow's-nest,-- "below there?" "ay, ay!" roared mcbain. "a procession coming along over the snow, sir, towards the ship." a consultation was at once held, and it was resolved to march forth to meet them. "it is neptune, i know," said mcbain, "for a snowbird this morning brought me a note to say he'd dine with us." it wasn't long before our friends came in sight of the royal party. it was neptune, sure enough, trident and all, both his trident and he looking as large as life.--he was drawn along in a sledge by a party of naiads, and amazon jades they looked. on one side of him walked his wife, on the other the cock o' the north, while behind him came the barber carrying an immense razor and a bucket of lather. silas grig, i may as well mention, played neptune, and seth his wife--and a taller, skinnier, bristlier old lady you couldn't have imagined; and her attempts to act the lady of fashion, and her airs and graces, were really funny. the cock o' the north was ted wilson. he was dressed in feathers from top to toe, with an immense bill, comb, and wattles, and acted his part well. he was introduced by neptune as-- "one who ne'er has been to school, but keeps us fat--in fact, our fool; a fool, forsooth, yet full of wit as he can stand, or lie, or sit." after the usual introduction, salaams, and courtesies, neptune made his speech in doggerel verse, with many an interruption both from his wife and his fool, telling how "his name was neptune"--"though it might be norval," added the cock o' the north. how-- "from east to west, from pole to pole, where'er waves break or waters roll, _my_ empire is--" _his wife_--"and _you_ belong to _me_." _cock o' the north_.--"all hail, great monarch of the sea!" _neptune_--"the clouds pay tribute, and streams and rills come singing from the distant hills." _his wife_.--"_do_ stop, my dear; you're _not_ a poet, and never were--" _neptune_.--"good sooth, i know it. but now lead on, our blood feels cold, for truth to tell, we're getting old. we and our wife have seen much service, besides--the dear old thing is nervous, so to the ship lead on, i say, we'd see some fun on this auspicious day. my younger sons i fain would bless 'em." _his barber_.--"and i can shave." _his wife (rapturously_).--"and i can kiss 'em." the six poor lads who were to be operated on, and whose only fault was that they had never before crossed the line, trembled in their prison as they heard the big guns thunder forth, announcing the arrival of king neptune. they trembled more when, dressed in white, they were led forth, a pair at a time, and seated blindfolded on the chair of the terrible tub, and duly shaved and blessed and kissed; but they trembled most when the bolt was drawn, and they tumbled head foremost into the icy water; but when, about twenty minutes thereafter, they were seen seated in a row in dry, warm clothing, you would not have known them for the same boys. their faces were beaming with smiles, and each one busied himself discussing a huge basin of savoury sea-pie. they were not trembling then at all. at the dinner which followed, neptune took the head of the table, with his wife on his right and mcbain himself as vice-president. the dinner was good even for the _arrandoon_, and that is saying a deal. in size, in odour, and beauty of rotundity, the plum-pudding that two stalwart men carried in and placed in front of neptune, was something to remember for ever and a day. size? why, neptune could have served it out with his trident. ay! and everybody had two helps, and looked all the healthier and happier after them. our three chief heroes were in fine form, rory in one of his funniest, happiest moods. and why not? had not he dubbed himself queen o' the may? yes, and well he sustained the part. i am not sure how neptune managed to possess himself of so many bottles of silas grig's green ginger, but there they were, and they went all round the table, and even the men of the crew seemed to prefer it to rum. the toasts given by the men were not a few, and all did honour to the manliness of their hearts. the songs sung ere the table was cleared were all well worth listening to, though some were ballads of extreme length. neptune was full of anecdotes of his life and adventures, and his wife also had a good deal to say about hers, which caused many a peal of laughter to rattle round the table. some of the men recited pieces of their own composition. here is one by the crew's pet, ted wilson to wit: the ghost of the cochin-shanghai. 'tis a tale of the greenland ocean, a tale of the northern seas, of a ship that sailed from her native land on the wings of a favouring breeze; her skipper as brave a seaman as ever set sail before, her crew all told as true and bold as ever yet left the shore. and never a ship was better "found," she couldn't be better, i know, with beef in the rigging and porkers to kill, and tanks filled with water below; and turkeys to fatten, and ducklings and geese, and the best spanish pullets to lay; but the pride of the ship, and the pet of the mess, was a brahma cock, cochin-shanghai. and every day when the watches were called, this cock crew so cheery o! with a shrill cock-a-lee, and a hoarse cock-a-lo, and a long cock-a-leerie o! but still as the grave was the brave bird at night, for well did he know what was best; yes, well the cock knew that most of the crew were weary and wanted their rest but one awful night he awoke in a fright, then wasn't it dreary o! to hear him crow, with a hoarse cock-a-lo, and a shrill cock-a-leerie o! oh! then out of bed scrambled the men in a mass, "we cannot get sleep," they all cried; "may we never reach dock till we silence that cock, we'll never have peace till the villain is fried." all dressed as they were in the garments of night, though the decks were deep covered with snow, they chased the cock round, with wild yell and bound, ####but they never got near him--no. and wherever he flew, still the bold cochin crew, with a shrill cock-a-lee, and a hoarse cock-a-lo, and a long cock-a-leerie o! now far up aloft defiant he stands, like an eagle in eerie o! till a sea-boot at last, knocked him down from the mast, and he sunk in the ocean below. but the saddest part of the story is this: he hadn't quite finished his crow, he'd got just as far as the hoarse cock-a-lo but failed at the leerie o! oh-h! and that ship is still sailing, they say, on the sea, though 'tis hundreds of years ago; till they silence that cock they'll ne'er reach a dock, nor lay down their burden of woe; for out on the boom, till the crack of doom, the ghost of the cochin will crow, with his shrill cock-a-lee, and his hoarse cock-a-lo, but _never_ the leerie o! no! they tell me at times that the ship may be seen straggling on o'er the billows o' blue, that the hardest of hearts would melt like the snow, to witness the grief of that crew, as they eye the cold waves, and long for their graves, looking _so weary o_! will he _never_ have done with that weird cock-a-lo, as get to the leerie o! oh-h! dinner discussed, the fun commenced. in the first place, there were sailors' dances, and the floor was kept pretty well filled one way or another. but certainly _the_ dances of the evening were the barber's "break-down," rory's "irish jig," and the doctor's "hielan fling." they were _solos_, of course, and the barber was the first to take the floor; and oh! the shuffling and the double-shuffling, and the tripleing and double-tripleing of that wonderful hornpipe! no wonder he was cheered, and encored, and cheered again. then came rory, dressed in natty knickerbockers and carrying a shillelah! nobody could say at times which end of him was uppermost, or whether he did not just as often strike his seemingly adamantine head with his heels as with his shillelah. lastly came sandy mcflail in highland costume, and being a countryman of my own, i must be modestly mum on the performance, only, towards the end of the "fling," you saw before you such a mist of waving arms and legs and plaid-ends, that you could not have been sure it was sandy at all, and not an octopus. but hark! there comes a shriek from the pack, so loud that it drowns the sounds of music and merriment. men grow suddenly serious. again they hear it, and there is a perceptible movement--a kind of thrill under their feet. it is the wail that never fails to give the first announcement of the breaking up of the sea of ice. chapter twenty five. breaking up of the great ice pack--in the nips--the "canny scotia" on her beam-ends--staving of the "arrandoon." in the very midst of joy and pleasure in this so-called weary world, we are oftentimes very nigh to grief and pain. see yonder swiss village by the foot of the mountain, how peacefully it is sleeping in the moonlight; not a sound is to be heard save the occasional crowing of a wakeful cock, or the voice of watch-dog baying the moon. the inhabitants have gone to bed hours and hours ago, and their dreams, if they dream at all, are assuredly not dreams of danger. but hark to that terrible noise far overhead. is it thunder? yes, the thunder of a mighty avalanche. nearer and nearer it rolls, till it reaches the devoted village, then all is desolation and woe. see yet another village, far away in sunny africa; its little huts nestle around the banyan-tree, the tall cocoa-palm, and the wide-spreading mango. they are a quiet, inoffensive race who inhabit that village. they live south of the line, far away from treacherous somali indians or wild magulla men; they never even dreamt of war or bloodshed. they certainly do not dream of it now. "the babe lies in its mother's arms, the wife's head pillowed on the husband's breast." suddenly there is a shout, and when they awake--oh! horror! their huts are all in flames, the arab slavers are on them, and--i would not harrow your young feelings by describing the scenes that follow. but a ship--and this is coming nearer home--may be sailing over a rippling sea, with the most pleasant of breezes filling her sails, no land in sight, and every one, fore and aft, as happy as the birds on an early morning in summer, when all at once she rasps, and strikes-- strikes on a rock, the very existence of which was never even suspected before. in half an hour perhaps that vessel has gone down, and those that are saved are afloat in open boats, the breeze freshening every moment, the wavetops breaking into cold spray, night coming on, and dark, threatening clouds banking up on the windward horizon. when the first wail arose from the pack that announced the breaking up of the sea of ice, a silence of nearly a minute fell on the sailors assembled at the entertainment. music stopped, dancing ceased, and every one listened. the sound was repeated, and multiplied, and the ship quivered and half reeled. mcbain knew the advantage of remaining calm and retaining his presence of mind in danger. because he was a true sailor. he was not like the sailor captains you read of in penny dreadfuls--half coal-heaver, half herzegovinian bandit. "odd, isn't it?" he muttered, as he stroked his beard and smiled; then in a louder voice he gave his orders. "men," he said, "we'll have some work to do before morning--get ready. the ice is breaking up. pipe down, boatswain. mr stevenson, see to the clearing away of all this hamper." then, followed by rory and the doctor, he got away out into the daylight. the ships were all safe enough as yet, and there was only perceptible the gentlest heaving motion in the pack. sufficient was it, however, to break up the bay ice between the bergs, and this with a series of loud reports, which could be heard in every direction. mcbain looked overboard somewhat anxiously; the broken pieces of bay ice were getting ploughed up against the ship's side with a noise that is indescribable, not so much from its extreme loudness as from its peculiarity; it was a strange mixture of a hundred different noises, a wailing, complaining, shrieking, grinding noise, mingled with a series of sharp, irregular reports. "it is like nothing earthly," said rory, "that ever i heard before; and when i close my eyes for a brace of seconds, i could imagine that down on the pack there two hundred tom-cats had lain down to die, that twenty highland bag-pipers--twenty peters--were playing pibrochs of lament, and that just forenenst them a squad of militia-men was firing a _feu-de-joie_, and that neither the militia-men nor the pipers either were as self-contained as they should be on so solemn an occasion." the doctor was musing; he was thinking how happy he had been half an hour ago, and now--heigho; it was just possible he would never get back to iceland again, never see his blue-eyed danish maiden more. "pleasures," he cried, "pleasures, captain mcbain--" "yes," said mcbain, "pleasures--" "pleasures," continued the doctor,-- "`are like poppies shed, you seize the flower, the bloom is fled.' "i'll gang doon below. bed is the best place." "perhaps," said mcbain, smiling, "but not the safest. mind, the ship is in the nips, and a berg might go through her at any moment. there is the merest possibility of your being killed in your bed. that's all; but that won't keep _you_ on deck." mischievous rory was doing ridiculous attitudes close behind the worthy surgeon. "what?" cried sandy, in his broadest accent. "_that_ not keep me on deck! man, the merest possibility of such a cawtawstrophy would keep me on deck for a month." "a vera judeecious arrangement," hissed rory in his ear, for which he was chased round the deck, and had his own ears well pulled next minute. the doctor had him by the ear when allan and ralph appeared on the scene. "hullo!" they laughed, "rory got in for it again." "whustle," cried sandy. "i only said `a vera--'" began rory. "whustle, will ye?" cried the doctor. "i can't `whustle,'" laughed rory. but he had to "whustle," and then he was free. "it's going to be a tough squeeze," said silas to mcbain. "yes; and, worse luck, the swell has set in from the east," answered the captain. "i'm off to the _canny scotia_; good morning." "one minute, captain grig; we promised to hoist up cobb's cockle-shell. lend us a hand with your fellows, will you?" "ay, wi' right good will," said silas. there were plenty of spars on board the _arrandoon_ big enough to rig shears, and these were sent overboard without delay, with ropes and everything else required. the men of the _arrandoon_, assisted by those of the _canny scotia_, worked with a readiness and will worthy even of our gallant royal engineers. a shears was soon rigged, and a winch got up. on a spar fastened along the cockle-shell's deck the purchase was made, and, under the superintendence of brave little ap, the work began. for a long time the "shell" refused to budge, so heavily did the ice press around her; the spar on her deck started though, several times. "worse luck," thought little ap. he had the spar re-fastened. tried again. the same result followed. then little ap considered, taking "mighty" big pinches of snuff the while. "we won't do like that," he said to himself, "because, look you see, the purchase is too much on the perpendicular. yes, yes." then he had the spar elevated a couple of yards, and fastened between the masts, which he had strengthened by lashing extra spars to them. the result of this was soon apparent. the hawsers tightened, the little yacht moved, even the pressure of the ice under her helped to lift her as soon as she began to heel over, and, in half an hour afterwards, the cockle-shell lay in a very ignominious position indeed--beam-ends on the ice. "bravo!" cried silas, when the men had finished their cheering. "bravo! what _would_ long cobb say now? what would he say? ha! ha! ha!" silas grig laughed and chuckled till his face grew redder than ever, but he would not have been quite so gay, i think, had he known what was so soon to happen to his own ship. stevenson touched mcbain on the shoulder. "the ice presses heavy on the rudder, sir." "then unship it," said mcbain. "and i'll unship mine," said silas. unshipping rudders is a kind of drill that few save greenland sailors ever learn, but it is very useful at times, nevertheless. in another hour the rudders of the two ships were hoisted and laid on the bergs. so that was one danger past. but others were soon to follow, for the swell under the ice increased, the bergs all around them rolled higher and higher. the noise from the pack was terrific, as the pieces met and clashed and ground their slippery sides together. in an hour or two the bay ice had been either ground to slush, or piled in packs on top of the bergs, so that the bergs had freedom to fight, as it were. alas! for the two ships that happened to be between the combatants. their position was, indeed, far from an enviable one. hardly had an hour elapsed ere the ice-harbours mcbain and silas had prided themselves in, were wrecked and disintegrated. they were then, in some measure, at the mercy of the enemy, that pressed them closely on every quarter. the _canny scotia_ was the worst off--she lay between two of the biggest bergs in the pack. mcbain came to his assistance with torpedoes. he might as well have tried to blow them to pieces with a child's pop-gun. better, in fact, for he would have had the same sport with less trouble and expense, and the result would have been equally gratifying. for once poor silas lost his equanimity. he actually wrung his hands in grief when he saw the terrible position of his vessel. "my poor shippie," he said. "heaven help us! i was building castles in the air. but she is doomed! my bonnie ship is doomed." at the same time he wisely determined not to be idle, so provisions and valuables were got on shore, and all the men's clothes and belongings. as nothing more could be done, silas grew more contented. "it was just his luck," he said, "just his luck." long hours of anxiety to every one went slowly past, and still the swell kept up, and the bergs lifted and fell and swung on the unseen billows, and ground viciously against the great sides of the _arrandoon_. now the _canny scotia_ was somewhat dutchified in her build--not as to bows but as to bottom. she was not a clipper by any manner of means, and her build saved her. the ice actually ground her up out of the water till she lay with her beam-ends on the ice, and her keel completely exposed. [as did the _p--e_, of peterhead, once for weeks. the men lived on the ice alongside, expecting the vessel to sink as soon as the ice opened. the captain, however, would not desert his ship, but slept on board, his mattress lying on the ship's side. the author's ship was beset some miles off at the same time.] but the _arrandoon_ had no such build. the ice caught under her forefoot, and she was lifted twelve feet out of the water. no wonder mcbain and our heroes were anxious. the former never went below during all the ten hours or more that the squeeze lasted. but the swells gradually lessened, and finally ceased. the _arrandoon_ regained her position, and lost her list, but there lay the _canny scotia_, a pitiable sight to see, like some giant overthrown, silent yet suffering. when the pumps of the _arrandoon_ had been tried, and it was found that there was no extra water in her, mcbain felt glad indeed, and thanked god from his inmost heart for their safe deliverance from this great peril. he could now turn his attention to consoling his friend silas. after dinner that day, said mcbain,-- "your cabin is all ready, captain grig, for of course you will sleep with us now." but silas arose silently and calmly. "i needn't say," he replied, "how much i feel your manifold acts of kindness, but silas grig won't desert his ship. his bed is on the _canny scotia_." "but, my dear fellow," insisted mcbain, "the ice may open in an hour, and your good ship go down." "then," said silas, "i go with her, and it will be for you to tell my owners and my little wife--heaven keep her!--that skipper grig stuck to his ship to the last." what could mcbain say, what argument adduce, to prevent this rough old tar from risking his life in what he considered a matter of duty? nothing! and so he was dumb. then away went silas home, as he called it, to his ship. he lowered himself down by a rope, clambered over the doorway of the cabin, took one glance at the chaos around, then walked tenderly _over_ the bulkhead, and so literally _down_ to his bed. he found the mattress and bed-clothes had fallen against the side, and so there this good man, this true sailor, laid him down and slept the sleep of the just. but the _scotia_ did not go to the bottom; she lay there for a whole week, defying all attempts to move her, silas sleeping on board every night, the only soul in her, and his crew remaining on the _arrandoon_. at the end of that time the ice opened more; then the prostrate giant seemed to begin to show signs of returning life. she swayed slightly, and looked as if she longed once more to feel the embrace of her native element; seeing which, scientific assistance was given her. suddenly she sprang up as does a fallen horse, and hardly had the men time to seek safety on the neighbouring bergs, when she took the water-- relaunched herself--with a violence that sent the spray flying in every direction with the force of a cataract. it would have been well had the wetting the crew received been the only harm done. it was not, for the bergs moved asunder with tremendous force. one struck the _arrandoon_ in her weakest part--amidships, under the water-line. she was stove, the timbers bent inwards and cracked, and the bunks alongside the seat of accident were dashed into matchwood. poor old duncan gibb, who was lying in one of these bunks with an almost united fracture of one of his limbs, had the leg broken over again. "never mind, duncan," said the surgeon, consolingly, "i didn't make a vera pretty job of it last time. i'll make it as straight as a dart this turn!" "vera weel, sir; and so be it," was poor contented duncan's reply, as he smiled in his agony. "dear me, now!" said silas, some time afterwards; "i could simply cry-- make a big baby of myself and cry. it would be crying for joy and grief, you know--joy that my old shippie should show so much pluck as to right herself like a race-horse, and grief to think she should go and stave the _arrandoon_. the ungrateful old jade!" "never mind," said mcbain, cheerfully, "ap and the carpenters will soon put the _arrandoon_ all right. we will shift the ballast, throw her over to starboard, and repair her, and the place will be, like duncan's leg, stronger than ever." it did not take very long to right captain cobb's cockle-shell, and all the vessels being now in position again, and the ice opening, it might have been as well to have got steam up at once, and felt the way to the open water. mcbain decided to make good repairs first; it was just as easy to list the ship among the ice as out of it, and probably less dangerous. besides, the water kept pouring in, and the beautiful arrangement of blankets and hammock-cloths which ap had devised, hardly sufficed to keep it out.--this decision of the captain nearly cost the life of two of our best-loved heroes, and poor old seth as well. but their adventure demands a chapter, or part of one at least, to itself. chapter twenty six. an adventure on the pack--separated from the ship--despair--the dream of home--under way once more. nothing in the shape of adventure came amiss to rory. he was always ready for any kind of "fun," as he called every kind of excitement. such a thing as fear i do not believe rory ever felt, and, as for failing in anything he undertook, he never even dreamt of such a thing. he had often proposed escapades and wild adventures to his companions at which they hung fire. rory's line of argument was very simple and unsophisticated. it may be summed up in three sentences--first, "sure we've only to try and we're bound to do it." if that did not convince allan or ralph, he brought up his first-class reserve, "let us try, _anyhow_;" and if that failed, his second reserve, "it's _bound_ to come right in the end." had rory been seized by a lion or tiger, and borne away to the bush, those very words would have risen to his lips to bring him solace, "it's bound to come right in the end." the few days' delay that succeeded the accident to the _arrandoon_, while she had to be listed over, and things were made as uncomfortable as they always are when a ship is lying on an uneven keel, threw rory back upon his books for enjoyment. that and writing verses, and, fiddle in hand composing music to his own words, enabled him to pass the day with some degree of comfort; but when mr stevenson one morning, on giving his usual report at breakfast-time, happened to say,-- "ice rather more open to-day, sir; a slight breeze from the west, and about a foot of rise and fall among the bergs; two or three bears about a mile to leeward, and a few seals," then rory jumped up. "will you go, allan," he cried, "and bag a bear? ralph hasn't done breakfast." "bide a wee, young gentleman," said mcbain, smiling. "i really imagined i was master of the ship." "i beg your pardon, captain mcbain," said rory, at once; and with all becoming gravity he saluted, and continued, "please, sir, may i go on shore?" "certainly not," was the reply; and the captain added, "no, boy, no. we value even rory, for all the trouble he gives us, more than many bears." rory got hold of his fiddle, and his feelings found vent in music. but no sooner had mcbain retired to his cabin than rory threw down his much beloved instrument and jumped up. "bide a wee; i'll manage," he cried. "doctor," he added, disarranging all the medico's hair with his hand-- sandy's legs were under the mahogany, so he could not speedily retaliate--"sandy, mon, i'll manage. it'll be a vera judeecious arrangement." then he was off, and presently back, all smiles and rejoicing: "come on, allan, dear boy," he cried. "we're going, both of us, and seth and one man, and we're going to carry a plank to help us across the ice. finish your breakfast, baby ralph. i wouldn't disturb myself for the world if i were you." "i don't mean to," said ralph, helping himself to more toast and marmalade. "what are you grinning at now?" asked rory of the surgeon. "to think," said sandy, laughing outright, "that our poor little boy rory couldn't be trusted on the ice without seth and a plank. ha, ha, ha! my conscience!" "doctor," said rory. "well?" said the doctor. "whustle," cried rory, making a face. "i'll whustle ye," said sandy, springing up. but rory was off. on the wiry shoulders of seth the plank was borne as easily as if it had been only an oar; the man carried the rope and sealing clubs. the plank did them good service, for whenever the space between two bergs was too wide for a safe leap it was laid down, and over they went. they thus made good progress. there was a little motion among the ice, but nothing to signify. the pieces approached each other gradually until within a certain distance. then was the time to leap, and at once, too, without fear and hesitation. if you did hesitate, and made up your mind to leap a moment after, you might fail to reach the next berg, and this meant a ducking at the very least. but a ducking of this kind is no joke, as the writer of these lines knows from experience. you strip off your clothes to wring out the superabundance of water, and by the time you put them on again, your upper garments, at all events, are frozen harder than parchment. you have to construe the verb _salto_ [_salto_--i leap, or jump] from beginning to end before you feel on good terms with yourself again. but falling into the sea between two bergs may not end with a mere ducking. a man may be sucked by the current under the ice, or he may instantly fall a prey to that great greedy monster, the greenland shark. well the brute loves to devour a half-dead seal, but a man is caviare to his maw. again, if you are not speedily rescued, the bergs may come slowly together and grind you to pulp. but our heroes escaped scot-free. so did the bears which they had come to shoot. "it is provoking!" said rory. "let us follow them a mile or so, at all events." they did, and came in sight of one--an immensely great brute of a bruin--who, after stopping about a minute to study them, set off again shambling over the bergs. then he paused, and then started off once more; and this he did many times, but he never permitted them to get within shot. all this time the signal of recall was floating at the masthead of the _arrandoon_, but they never saw it. they began to notice at last, though, that the bergs were wider apart, so they wisely determined to give up the chase and return. return? yes, it is only a little word--hardly a simpler one to be found in the whole english vocabulary, whether to speak or to spell; and yet it is a word that has baffled thousands. it is a word that we should never forget when entering upon any undertaking in which there is danger to either ourselves or others. it is a word great generals keep well in view; probably it was just that word "return" which prevented the great napoleon from landing half a million of men on our shores with the view of conquering the country. the man of ambition was afraid he might find a difficulty in getting his frenchmen back, and that englishmen would not be over kind to them. rory and his party could see the flag of recall now, and they could see also the broad black fan being waved from the crow's-nest to expedite their movements. so they made all the haste in their power. there was no leaping now, the plank had to be laid across the chasms constantly. but at last they succeeded in getting just half-way to the ship, when, to their horror, they discovered that all further advance was a sheer impossibility! a lane of open water effectually barred their progress. it was already a hundred yards wide at least, and it was broadening every minute. south and by west, as far as eye could reach, stretched this canal, and north-west as well. they were drifting away on a loose portion of the pack, leaving their ship behind them. their feelings were certainly not to be envied. they knew the whole extent of their danger, and dared not depreciate it. it was coming on to blow; already the face of that black lane of water was covered with angry little ripples. if the wind increased to a gale, the chances of regaining their vessel were small indeed; more likely they would be blown out to sea, as men have often been under similar circumstances, and so perish miserably on the berg on which they stood. to be sure, they were to leeward, and the _arrandoon_ was a steamer; there was some consolation in that, but it was damped, on the other hand, by the recollection that, though a steamer, she was a partially disabled one. it would take hours before she could readjust her ballast and temporarily make good her leak, and hours longer ere she could force and forge her way to the lane of water, through the mile of heavy bergs that intervened. meanwhile, what might not happen? both rory and allan were by this time good ice-men, and had there been but a piece of ice big enough to bear their weight, and nothing more, they could have embarked thereon and ferried themselves across, using as paddles the butt-ends of their rifles. but there was nothing of the sort; the bay ice had all been ground up; there was nothing save the great green-sided, snow-topped bergs. and so they could only wait and hope for the best. "it'll all come right in the end," said rory. he said this many times; but as the weary hours went by, and the lane widened and widened, till, from being a lane, it looked a jake, the little sentence that had always brought him comfort before seemed trite to even rory himself. the increasing motion of the berg on which they stood did not serve to reassure them, and the cold they had, from their forced inactivity, to endure, would have damped the boldest spirits. for a time they managed to keep warm by walking or running about the berg, but afterwards movement itself became painful, so that they had but little heart to take exercise. the whole hull of the _arrandoon_ was hidden from their view behind the hummocky ice, and thus they could not tell what was going on on deck, but they could see no smoke arising from the funnel, and this but served further to dishearten them. even gazing at those lanes of water that so often open up in the very midst of a field of ice, is apt to stir up strange thoughts in one's mind, especially if one be, like rory, of a somewhat poetical and romantic disposition. the very blackness of the water impresses you; its depth causes a feeling akin to awe; you know, as if by instinct, that it is deep--terribly, eeriesomely deep. it lies smiling in the sunshine as to surface, but all is the blackness of darkness below. up here it is all day; down there, all night. the surface of the water seems to divide two worlds--a seen and an unseen, a known and an unknown and mysterious--life and death! tired at last of roaming like caged bears up and down the berg, one by one they seated themselves on the sunny side of a small hummock. they huddled together for warmth, but they did not care to talk much. their very souls seemed heavy, their bodies seemed numbed and frozen, but their heads were hot, and they felt very drowsy, yet bit their lips and tongues lest they might fall into that strange slumber from which it is said men wake no more. they talked not at all. the last words were spoken by seth. rory remembered them. "i'm old," he was muttering; "my time's a kind o' up; but it do seem hard on these younkers. guess i'd give the best puma's skin ever i killed, just to see rory safe. guess i'd--" rory's eyes were closed, he heard no more. he was dreaming. dreaming of what? you ask me. i answer, in the words of lover,-- "ask of the sailor youth, when far his light barque bounds o'er ocean's foam what charms him most when evening star smiles o'er the wave? to dream of home." yes, rory was dreaming of home. all the home he knew, poor lad! he was in the castle of _arrandoon_. seeing, but all unseen, he stood in the cosy tartan parlour where he had spent so many happy hours. a bright fire was burning in the grate, the curtains were drawn, in her easy-chair sat allan's mother with her work on her lap, the great deerhound lay on the hearthrug asleep, and helen edith was bending over her harp. how boy rory longed to rush forward and take her by the hand! but even in his partial sleep he knew this was but a dream, and he feared to move lest he might break the sweet spell. but languor, pain, and cold, all were forgotten while the vision lasted. but list! a horn seems to sound beyond the castle moat. rory, in his dream, wonders that helen hears it not; then the boy starts to his feet on the snow. the vision has fled, and the sound of the horn resolves itself into the shout,-- "ahoy--oy--hoy! ahoy! hoy!" every one is on his feet at the same time, though both allan and rory stagger and fall again. but, behold! a boat comes dancing down the lane of water towards them, and a minute after they are all safe on board. the labour of getting that boat over the ice had been tremendous. it had been a labour of love, however, and the men had worked cheerily and boldly, and never flinched a moment, until it was safely launched in the open water and our heroes were in it. the _arrandoon_, the men told them, had got up steam, and in a couple of hours at most she would reach the water. meanwhile they, by the captain's orders, were to land on the other side, and make themselves as comfortable as possible until her arrival. rory and allan were quite themselves again now, and so, too, was honest seth,-- "though, blame me," said he, "if i didn't think this old trapper's time had come. not that that'd matter a sight, but i did feel for you youngsters, blame me if i didn't;" and he dashed his coat-sleeve rapidly across his face as he spoke. and now a fire was built and coffee made, and stevenson then opened the norwegian chest--a wonderful contrivance, in which a dinner may be kept hot for four-and-twenty hours, and even partially cooked. up arose the savoury steam of a glorious irish stew. "how mindful of the captain?" said allan. "it was ralph that sent the dinner," said stevenson, "and he sent with it his compliments to rory." "bless his old heart," cried rory. "i don't think i'll ever chaff him again about the gourmandising propensities of the saxon race." "and the doctor," continued the mate, "sent you some blankets, mr rory. there they are, sir; and he told me to give you this note, if i found you alive." the note was in the scottish dialect, and ran as follows:-- "_my conscience, rory! some folks pay dear for their whustle. but keep up your heart, ma wee laddie. it's a vera judeecious arrangement_." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ in a few days more the _arrandoon_ had made good her repairs, and as the western wind had freshened, and was blowing what would have been a ten-knot breeze in the open sea, the steamer got up steam and the sailing-ship canvas, and together they took the loose ice, and made their way slowly to the eastward. the bergs, though some distance asunder, were still sufficiently near to considerably impede their way, and, for fear of accident, the _arrandoon_ took the cockle-shell, as she was always called now, in tow. for many days the ships went steadily eastward, which proved to them how extensive the pack had been. sometimes they came upon large tracts of open water, many miles in extent, and across this they sailed merrily and speedily enough, considering that neither of the vessels had as yet shipped her rudder. this they had determined not to do until they were well clear of the very heavy ice, or until the swell went down. so they were steered entirely by boats pulling ahead of them. open water at last, and the cockle-shell bids the big ships adieu, spreads her white sails to the breeze, and, swanlike, goes sailing away for the distant isle of jan mayen. ay, and the big ships themselves must now very soon part company, the _scotia_ to bear up for the green shores of our native land, the _arrandoon_ for regions as yet unknown. chapter twenty seven. working along the pack edge--among the seals again--a bumper ship-- adventures on the ice--ted wilson's promotion. the _arrandoon_ was steaming slowly along the pack edge, wind still westerly, the _canny scotia_, with all canvas exposed, a mile or more to leeward of her. both were heading in the same direction, north and by east, for mcbain and our heroes had determined not to desert silas until he really had what he called a voyage--in other words, a full ship. "we can spare the time, you know," the captain had said to ralph; "a fortnight, will do it, and i dare say rory here doesn't object to a little more sport before going away to the far north." "that i don't," rory had replied. "if we fall among the old seals, a fortnight will do it." "ay," allan had said, "and won't old silas be happy!" "yes," from mcbain; "and, after all, to be able to give happiness to others is certainly one of the greatest pleasures in this world." dear reader, just a word parenthetically. i am so sure that what mcbain said is true, that i earnestly advise you to try the experiment suggested by his words, for great is the reward, even in this world, of those who can conquer self and endeavour to bring joy to others. the _arrandoon_ steamed along the pack edge, but it must not be supposed that this was a straight line, or anything like it. indeed it was very much like any ordinary coastline, for here was a bay and yonder a cape, and yonder again, where the ice is heavier, a bold promontory. but greenlandmen call a bay a "bight," and a cape they call a "point-end." let us adopt their nomenclature. the _canny scotia_, then, avoided these point-ends; she kept well out to sea, well away from the pack, for there was not over-much wind, and silas grig had no wish to be beset again. but the _arrandoon_, on the other hand, steamed, as i have said, in a straight line. she scorned to double a point, but went steadily on her course, ploughing her way through the bergs. there was one advantage in this: she could the more easily discover the seals, for in the month of may these animals, having done their duty by their young, commence their return journey to the north, the polar regions being their home _par excellence_. they are in no hurry getting back, however. they like to enjoy themselves, and usually for every one day's progress they make, they lie two or three on the ice. the capes, or point-ends, are favourite positions with them, and on the bergs they may be seen lying in scores, nor if the sun be shining with any degree of strength are they at all easily disturbed. it is their summer, and they try to make the best of it. hark now to that shout from the crow's-nest of the _arrandoon_. "a large patch of seals in sight, sir." our heroes pause in their walk, and gaze upwards; from the deck nothing is visible to windward save the great ice-pack. "where away?" cries stevenson. "on the weather bow, sir, and a good mile in through the pack." "what do you think, sir?" says stevenson, addressing his commander. "shall we risk taking the ice again?" "risk, stevenson?" is the reply. "why, man, yes; we'll risk anything to do old silas a good turn. we'll risk more yet, mate, before the ship's head is turned homewards." then the ship is stopped, and signals are made to silas, who instantly changes his course, and, after a vast deal of tacking and half-tacking, bears down upon them, and being nearly alongside, gets his main-yard aback, and presently lowers a boat and comes on board the _arrandoon_. our heroes crowd around him. "why," they say, "you are a perfect stranger; it is a whole week since we've seen you." "ay," says silas, "and a whole week without seeing a seal--isn't it astonishing?" "ah! but they're in sight now," says mcbain. "i'm going to take the ice, and i'll tow you in, and if you're not a bumper ship before a week, then this isn't the _arrandoon_, that's all." silas is all smiles; he rubs his hands, and finally laughs outright, then he claps his hand on his leg, and,-- "i was sure of it," says silas, "soon as ever i saw your signal. `matie,' says i, `yonder is a signal from the _arrandoon_. i'm wanted on board; seals is in sight, ye maybe sure. matie,' says i, `luck's turned again;' and with that i gives him such a dig in the ribs that he nearly jumped out of the nest." "make the signal to the _scotia_, stevenson," says mcbain, "to clew up, and to get all ready for being taken in tow. come below, captain grig, lunch is on the table." fairly seated at the table, honest silas rubbed his hands again and looked with a delighted smile at each of his friends in turn. there was a bluff heartiness about this old sailor which was very taking. "i declare," he said, "i feel just like a schoolboy home for a holiday?" rory and silas were specially friendly. "rory, lad," he remarked, after a pause, "we won't be long together now." "no," replied rory; "and it isn't sorry i am, but really downright _sad_ at the thoughts of your going away and leaving us. i say, though--happy thought!--send stevenson home with your ship and you stay with us in place of him." silas laughed. "what _would_ my owners say, boy? and what about my little wife, eh?" "ah! true," said rory; "i had forgotten." then, after a pause, he added, more heartily, "but we'll meet again, won't we?" "please god!" said silas, reverently. "i think," rory added, "i would know your house among a thousand, you have told me so much about it--the blue-grey walls, the bay windows, the garden, with its roses and--and--" "the green paling," silas put in. "ah, yes! the green paling, to be sure; how could i have forgotten that? well, i'll come and see you; and won't you bring out the green ginger that day, silas!" "_and_ the bun," added silas. "_and_ the bun," repeated rory after him. "and won't my little wife make you welcome, too! you may bet your fiddle on that!" then these two sworn friends grasped hands over the table, and the conversation dropped for a time. but there perhaps never was a much happier greenland skipper than silas grig, when he found his ship lying secure among the ice, with thousands on thousands of old seals all around him. the weather continued extremely fine for a whole week. the little wind there had been, died all away, and the sun shone more warmly and brightly than it had done since the _arrandoon_ came to the country. the seals were so cosy that they really did not seem to mind being shot, and those that were scared off one piece of ice almost immediately scrambled on to another. "fire away!" they seemed to say; "we are so numerous that we really won't miss a few of us. only don't disturb us more than you can help." so the seals hugged the ice, basking in the bright sunshine, either sleeping soundly or gazing dreamily around them with their splendid eyes, or scratching their woolly ribs with their flippers for want of something to do. and bang, bang, bang! went the rifles; they never seemed to cease from the noon of night until mid-day, nor from mid-day until the noon of night again. the draggers of skins went in pairs for safety, and thus many a poor fellow who tumbled into the sea between the bergs, escaped with a ducking when otherwise he would have lost his life. ralph--long-legged, brawny-chested saxon ralph--was among "the ducked," as rory called the unfortunates. he came to a space of water which was too wide even for him. he would not be beaten, though, so he pitched his rifle over first by way of beginning the battle. then he thought, by swinging his heavy cartridge-bag by its shoulder-strap the weight would help to carry him over. he called this jumping from a tangent. it was a miserable failure. but the best of the fun--so rory said, though it could not have been fun to ralph--was this: when he found himself floundering in the water he let go the bag of cartridges, which at once began to sink, but in sinking caught his heel, and pulled him for the moment under water. poor ralph! his feelings may be better imagined than described. "i made sure a shark had me!" he said, quietly, when by the help of his friend rory, he had been brought safely to bank. it was not very often that ralph had a mishap of any kind, but, having come to grief in this way, it was not likely that rory would throw away so good a chance of chaffing him. he suddenly burst out laughing at luncheon that day, at a time when nobody was speaking, and when apparently there was nothing at all to laugh about. "what now, rory? what now, boy?" said mcbain, with a smile of anticipation. "oh!" cried rory, "if you had only seen my big english brother's face when he thought the shark had him!" "was it funny?" said allan, egging him on. "funny!" said rory. "och i now, funny is no name for it. you should have seen the eyes of him!--and his jaw fall!--and that big chin of his. you know, englishmen have a lot of chin, and--" "and irishmen have a lot of cheek," cried ralph. "just wait till i get you on deck, row boy." "i'd make him whustle," suggested the doctor. "troth," rory went on, "it was very nearly the death o' me. and to see him kick and flounder! sure i'd pity the shark that got one between the eyes from your foot, baby ralph." "well," said ralph, "it was nearly the death of me, anyhow, having to take off all my clothes and wring them on top of the snow." "oh! but," continued rory, assuming seriousness, and addressing mcbain, "you ought to have seen ralph just then, sir. that was the time to see my baby brother to advantage. neptune is nobody to him. troth, ray, if you'd lived in the good old times, it's a gladiator they'd have made of you entirely." here came a low derisive laugh from cockie's cage, and ralph pitched a crust of bread at the bird, and shook his fingers at rory. but rory kept out of ralph's way for a whole hour after this, and by that time the storm had blown clean away, so rory was safe. allan had his turn next day. the danger in walking on the ice was chiefly owing to the fact that the edges of many of the bergs had been undermined by the waves and the recent swell, so that they were apt to break off and precipitate the unwary pedestrian into the water. here is allan's little adventure, and it makes one shudder to think how nearly it led him to being an actor in a terrible tragedy. he was trudging on after the seals with rifle at full cock, for he expected a shot almost immediately, when, as he was about to leap, the snowy edge of the berg gave way, and down he went. instinctively he held his rifle out to his friend, who grasped it with both hands, the muzzle against his breast, and thus pulled him out. it seemed marvellous that the rifle did not go off. [both these adventures are sketched from the life.] when safe to bank, and when he noticed the manner in which he had been helped out, poor allan felt sick, there is no other name for it. "oh, ralph, ralph!" he said, clutching his friend by the shoulder to keep himself from falling, "what if i had killed you?" when told of the incident that evening after dinner, mcbain, after a momentary silence, said quietly,-- "i'm not sorry such a thing should have happened, boys; it ought to teach you caution; and it teaches us all that there is some one in whose hands we are; some one to look after us even in moments of extremest peril." but i think allan loved ralph even better after this. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ two weeks' constant sealing; two weeks during which the crews of the _arrandoon_ and _canny scotia_ never sat down to a regular meal, and never lay down for two consecutive hours of repose, only eating when hungry and sleeping when they could no longer keep moving; two weeks during which nobody knew what o'clock it was at any particular time, or which was east or west, or whether it were day or night. two weeks, then the seals on the ice disappeared as if by magic, for the frost was coming. "let them go," said silas, shaking mcbain warmly by the hand. "thanks to you, sir, i'm a bumper ship. why, man, i'm full to the hatches. low freeboard and all that sort of thing. plimsoll wouldn't pass us out of any british harbour. but, with fair weather and god's help, sir, we'll get safely home." "and now," mcbain replied, "there isn't a moment to lose. we must get out of here, captain grig, or the frost will serve us a trick as it did before." with some difficulty the ships were got about and headed once more for the open sea. none too soon, though, for there came again that strange, ethereal blue into the sky, which, from their experiences of the last black frost, they had learned to dread. the thermometer sank, and sank, and sank, till far down below zero. the _arrandoon_ took her "chummy ship" in tow. "go ahead at full speed," was the order. no, none too soon, for in two hours' time the great steam-hammer had to be set to work to break the newly-formed bay ice at the bows of the _arrandoon_, and fifty men were sent over the side to help her on. with iron-shod pikes they smashed the ice, with long poles they pushed the bergs, singing merrily as they worked, working merrily as they sang, laughing, joking, stamping, shouting, and cheering as ever and anon the great ship made another spurt, and tore along for fifty or a hundred yards. handicapped though she was by having the _scotia_ in tow, the _arrandoon_ fought the ice as if she had been some mighty giant, and every minute the distance between her and the open water became less, till at last it could be seen even from the quarter-deck. but the frost seemed to grow momentarily more intense, and the bay- ce stronger and harder between the bergs. never mind, that only stimulated the men to greater exertions. it was a battle for freedom, and they meant to win. with well-meaning though ridiculous doggerel, ted wilson led the music,-- "work and keep warm, boys; heave and keep hot, jack frost thinks he's clever; we'll show him he's not. beyond is the sea, boys; let us fight and get free, boys; one thing will keep boiling, and that is the pot. with a heave o! push and she'll go. to work and to fight is the bold sailor's lot. heave o--o--o! "go fetch me the lubber who won't bear a hand, we'll feed him on blubber, we'll stuff him with sand. but yonder our ships, boys, ere they get in the nips, boys, we'll wrestle and work, as long's we can stand, then cheerily has it, men, heave o--o--o! merrily has it, men, off we go, o--o--o!" yes, reader, and away they went, and in one more hour they were clear of the ice, _the arrandoon_ had cast the _scotia_ off, and banked her fires, for, together with her consort, she was to sail, not steam, down to the island of jan mayen, where they were to take on board the sleigh-dogs, and bid farewell to captain cobb, the bold yankee astronomer.--there was but little wind, but they made the most of what there was. silas dined on board that day, as usual. they were determined to have as much of the worthy old sailor as they could. but before dinner one good action was performed by mcbain in captain grig's presence. first he called all hands, and ordered them aft; then he asked ted wilson to step forward, and addressed him briefly as follows: "mr wilson, i find i can do with another mate, and i appoint you to the post." ted was a little taken aback; a brighter light came into his eyes; he muttered something--thanks, i suppose--but the men's cheering drowned his voice. then our heroes shook hands with him all around, and mcbain gave the order,-- "pipe down." but as soon as ted wilson returned to his shipmates they shouldered him, and carried him high and dry right away forward, and so down below. chapter twenty eight. a wonderful yankee--"making off" skins--preparing to "bear up"--the summer home of the giant walrus--the ships part. in two days the ships sighted the island of jan mayen. as they neared it, they found the ice so closely packed around the shore that all approach even by boats was out of the question, so the sails were clewed, the ice-anchors got out, and both ships made fast to the floe. it was not long ere captain cobb was on board the _arrandoon_, to welcome our heroes back to "_his_ island of jan mayen." he was profuse in his thanks for what he called the clever kindness of captain mcbain, in saving his little yacht from a fatal accident among the ice; and, of course, they would do him the honour to come on shore and dine with him. he would take it as downright "mean" if they did not. there was no resisting such an appeal as this, so, leaving their ships in charge of their respective mates, both mcbain and silas, in company with our heroes--sandy mcflail, seth, and all--they trudged off over the snowy bergs to take dinner in the hut of the bold yankee astronomer. very unprepossessing, indeed, was the building to behold from the outside, but no sooner had they entered, than they opened their eyes wide with astonishment. when our young friends had visited it before, the hut looked neither more nor less than a big hall, or rather barn. but now--why, here were all the luxuries of civilised life. the place was divided into ante-room, saloon, and bed-chamber, and each apartment seemed more comfortable than another. the walls of the saloon were covered with rich tapestry, the floor with a soft thick carpet. there were couches and easy-chairs and skins _galore_, and books and musical instruments. a great stove, of american pattern, burned in the centre, giving out warmth and making the room look doubly cheerful, and overhead swung an immense lamp, which shed a soft, effulgent light everywhere, so that one did not miss the windows, of which the hut was _minus_. at one end of this apartment was a dining-table, as well laid and as prettily arranged as if it stood in the dining-hall of a club-room in pall mall, and beside the table were two sable waiters clad in white. captain cobb seemed to thoroughly enjoy the looks of bewilderment and wonder exhibited on the faces of his guests. "why," said mcbain at last, "pardon me, but you yankees are about the most wonderful people on the face of the earth." "waal," said the yankee, "i guess we like our little comforts, and don't see any harm in having them." "so long's we deserve them," put in seth, who, at that moment, really felt very proud of being a yankee. "bravo! old man," cried his countryman; "let us shake your hand." "and now, gentlemen," he continued, "sit in. i reckon the keen air and the walk have given ye all an appetite." soups, fish, _entries_, joints--why i do not know what there was not in the bill-of-fare. it was a banquet fit for a king. "i can't make out how you manage it," said mcbain. "do you keep a djin?" cobb laughed and summoned the cook. if he was not a djin, he was just as ugly. four feet high--not an inch more--with long arms, black skin, flat face, and no nose at all worth mentioning. he was dressed as a _chef_, however, and very polite, for at a motion from his master, he salaamed very prettily and retired. at dessert the host produced a zither, and, accompanying himself on this beautiful instrument, sang to them. he drawled while talking, but he sang most sweetly, and with a taste and feeling that quite charmed rory, and held silas and the doctor spell-bound. he was indeed a wonderful yankee. "do you know," said rory, "i feel for all the world like being in an enchanted cave? do sing again, if only one song." it is needless to add that our friends spent the evening most enjoyably. it was a red-letter night, and one they often looked back to with pleasure, and talked about as they lay around their snuggery fire, during the long dreary time they spent in the regions round the pole. "i'm glad, anyhow," said captain cobb, as he bade them good-bye on the snow-clad beach, "that i've made it a kind o' pleasant for ye. don't forget to call as you come back, and if cobb be here, why, cobb will bid you welcome. farewell." by eight bells in next morning watch everything was ready for a start. the dogs--twelve in number--were got on board and duly kennelled, and the old trapper was installed as whipper-in. "but i guess," said seth, "there won't be much whipping-in in the play. trapper seth is one of those rare old birds who know the difference between a dog and a door-knocker. yes, seth knows that there's more in a good bed and a biscuit, with a kind word whenever it is needed, than there is in all the cruel whips in existence." the kennelling for the poor animals was got up under the supervision of ap and seth himself. it was built on what the trapper called "scientific principles." there was a yard or ran in common for the whole pack; but the large, roomy sleeping compartment had a bench, on which all twelve dogs could sleep or lie at once, yet nevertheless it was divided by boards about a foot high into six divisions. this was to prevent the dogs all tumbling into a heap when the ship rolled. the bedding was straw and shavings; of the former commodity mcbain had not forgotten to lay in a plentiful supply before leaving scotland. there was, besides, a whole tankful of spratts' biscuits, so that what with these and the ship's scraps, it did not seem at all likely that the dogs would go hungry to bed for some time to come. seth was now much happier on board than ever he had been, because he had duties to perform and an office to fill, humble though it might be. at half-past eight silas came on board the _arrandoon_ to breakfast. allan and rory were tramping rapidly up and down the deck to keep themselves warm, for, though the wind was blowing west-south-west, it was bitterly cold, and the "barber" was blowing. the barber is a name given to a light vapoury mist that, when the frost is intense and the wind in pertain directions, is seen rising off the sea in greenland. i have called it a mist, but it in reality partakes more of the nature of steam, being due to the circumstance of the air being ever so much colder than the surface of the water. oh! but it is a cold steam--a bitter, biting, killing steam. woe be to the man who exposes his ears to it, or who does not keep constantly rubbing his nose when walking or sailing in it, for want of precaution in this respect may result in the loss of ears or nose, and both appendages are useful, not to say ornamental. "good morning," cried silas, jumping down on to the deck. "the top of the morning to you, friend silas," said rory; "how do you feel after your blow-out at captain cobb's?" "fust-rate," said silas--"just fust-rate; but where is ralph and the captain?" "ralph!" said rory; "why, i don't suppose there is a bit of him to be seen yet, except the extreme tip of his nose and maybe a morsel of his saxon chin; and as for the captain, he is busy in his cabin. breakfast all ready, is it, peter? thank you, peter, we're coming down in a jiffy." just as they entered the saloon by one door, mcbain came in by another. "ah! good morning, captain grig," he cried, extending his hand. "sit down. peter, the coffee. and now," he continued, "what think you of the prospect? it isn't exactly a fair wind for you to bear up, is it?" "the wind would do," said silas; "but i'm hardly what you might call tidy enough to bear up yet. it'll take us a week to make off our skins, and a day more to clean up. i'd like to go home not only a bumper ship, but a clean and wholesome sweet ship." "well, then," mcbain said, "here is what i'll do for you." "but you've done so much already," put in silas, "that really--" "nonsense, man," cried mcbain, interrupting him; "why, it has been all fun to us. but i was going to say that instead of lying here for a week, you had better sail north with us, spitzbergen way, and my men will help you to make off and tidy up. who knows but that after that you may get a fair wind to carry you right away south into summer weather in little over a week?" "bless your heart!" said silas; "the suggestion is a grand one. i close with your offer at once. you see, sir, we greenlandmen generally return to harbour all dirty, outside anyhow, with our sides scraped clean o' paint, and our masts and spars as black as a collier's." "_you_ shan't, though," said mcbain. "we'll spend a bucket or two of paint over him, won't we, boys?" "that will we," said ralph and allan, both in one breath. "and i'll tell you what i'll do," added rory. "something nice, i'm certain," said silas. "i'll paint and gild that highland lassie of yours that you have for a figure-head." "glorious! glorious!" cried silas grig. "why, my own wife won't know the ship. and, poor wee body! she'll be down there looking anxiously enough out to sea when she hears i'm in the offing. oh, it will be glorious! won't my matie be pleased when he hears about it!" "i say, though," said rory, "i'll change the pattern of your highland lassie's tartan. she came to the country a gordon, she shall return a mcgregor." "or a mcflail," suggested sandy. "ha! ha! ha!" this was an impudent, derisive laugh from cockie's cage, which made everybody else laugh, and caused sandy to turn red in the face. after breakfast the ice-anchors were cast off and got on board, and sail set. the _arrandoon_ led, keeping well clear of the ice, and taking a course of north-east and by north. when well off the ice, and everything working free and easy, mcbain called all hands, and ordered the men to lay aft. "men," he said, "you all signed articles to complete the voyage with me to the polar regions and back. most of you knew, as you put your names to the paper, what you were about, because you had been here before, but some of you didn't. now i am by no means short-handed, and if any of you thinks he has had enough of it already, and would like to return to his country, step forward and say so now, and i'll make arrangements with captain grig for your passage back." not a man stirred. "i will take it as a favour," continued the captain, "if any one who has any doubts on his mind will come forward now. i want only willing hands with me." "we _are_ willing, we are willing hands," the men shouted. "beg your pardon, sir," said bold ted wilson, stepping forward, "but i know the crew well. i'm sure they all feel thankful for your kind offer, but ne'er a man jack o' them would go back, if you offered to pay him for doing so." the captain bowed and thanked ted, and the men gave one hearty cheer and retired. once fairly at sea, mcbain sent two whalers on board the _scotia_, their crews rigged out in working dress, and making off was at once commenced. upright boards were made fast here and there along the decks; the skins, with their two or three inches of blubber attached, were handed up from below, and the men set to work in this way--they stood at one side of the board and spread the skin in front of them on the other; then they leant over, and first cutting off all useless pieces of flesh, etc, they next cleaned the blubber from off the skin. this was by other hands cut into pieces about a foot square, carried away, and sent below to be deposited in the tanks. other workmen removed the cleaned skins. these were dashed over with rough salt, rolled tightly and separately up, and cast into tanks by themselves. this latter duty devolved upon the mates, and old silas himself stood, with book in hand, "taking tally," that is, counting the number of skins as they were passed one by one below. the refuse, or "orra bits," as scotch sailors call them, were thrown overboard by bucketfuls, and over these thousands of screaming gulls fought on the surface of the water, and scores of sharks immediately beneath. it was a busy scene, and one that can only be witnessed in greenland north. in three days all the skins were made off and stowed away. all this time the men had been as merry as sheep-shearers, and only on the last day did silas splice the main-brace, even then diluting the rum with warm coffee. then came the cleaning up, and scouring of decks below and above, and white-washing and mast-scraping. after this mcbain sent his painters on board, and in less than four-and-twenty hours she looked like a new ship. and rory was busy below on the 'tween decks. the highland lassie had been unshipped, and taken below for him to paint and gild. rory, mind you, did not wish it to be unshipped. he would have preferred being swung overboard. there would have been more fun in it, he said. but silas would not hear of such a thing. the cold, he feared, would benumb him so that he might drop off into the sea, to the infinite joy and satisfaction of a gang of unprincipled sharks that kept up with the ship, but to the everlasting sorrow of him, captain silas grig. when the ship was all painted, and the masts scraped and varnished, and the highland lassie--brightly arrayed in gold and mcgregor tartan-- re-shipped, why then, i do not think a prouder or happier man than silas grig ever trod a quarter-deck. the day after this everybody on the _arrandoon_ was busy, busy, busy writing letters for home. they were thus engaged, when a shout came from the crow's-nest,-- "heavy ice ahead!" it was the ice-bound shores of the southernmost islands of spitzbergen they had sighted. they passed between several of these, and grandly beautiful they looked, with their fantastically-shaped sides glittering green and blue and white in the sunshine. these islands seemed to be the northern home or summer retreat of the great bladder-nosed seal and the giant walrus. they basked on the smaller bergs that floated around them, while hundreds of strange sea-birds nodded half asleep on the snow-clad rocks. it was here where the two ships parted, the _canny scotia_ bearing up for the sunny south, the _arrandoon_ clewing sails and lighting fires to steam away to the unknown land. there were tears in poor rory's eyes as he shook hands with silas, and he could not trust himself to say much. indeed, there was little said on either hand, but the farewell wishes were none the less heartfelt for all that. there is always somewhat of humour mixed up with the sad in life. it was not wanting on this occasion. silas had brought a servant with him when he came to say adieu. this servant carried with him a mysterious-looking box. it was all he could do to lift it. seeing mcbain look inquiringly at it,-- "it's just a drop of green ginger," said silas. "when you tap it, boys, when far away from here, you won't forget silas, i know. i won't forget you, anyhow," he continued; "and look here, boys, if a prayer from such a rough old salt as i am availeth, then heaven will send you safely home again, and the first to welcome you will be silas grig. good-bye, god be wi' ye." "good-bye, god be wi' ye." chapter twenty nine. northward ho!--hoisting beacons--the white fog--the great sea-serpent. "good-bye, and god be with you." it was a prayer as heartfelt and fervent as ever fell from the lips of an honest sailor. the _arrandoon_ steamed away, and soon was hidden from view behind a lofty iceberg, and all that silas grig, as he stood on his own quarter-deck, could now hear, was the sad and mournful wail of peter's bagpipes. peter was playing that wild and plaintive melody which has drawn tears from so many eyes when our brave highland regiments were departing for some far-off seat of wax, to be-- "borne on rough seas to a far-distant shore, maybe to return to lochaber no more." "heigho! matie," sighed silas, talking to his chief officer and giving orders all in one breath, "i don't think we'll--haul aft the jib-sheet-- ever see them again. i don't think they can--take a pull on the main-brace--ever get back from among that fearful--luff a little, lad, luff--ice, matie. and the poor boys, if any one had told silas he could have loved them as much as he does in so short a time, he would have laughed in his face. come below, matie, and we'll have a drop o' green ginger. keep her close, mortimer, but don't let her shiver." "ay, ay, sir," said the man at the wheel. in a few hours the wind got more aft, and so, heading now for more southern climes, away went the _canny scotia_, with stun'sails up. i cannot say that she bounded over the waters like a thing of life. no; but she looked as happy and frisky as a plough-horse on a gala day, that has just been taken home from the miry fields, fed and groomed, and dressed with ribbons and started off in a light spring-van with a load of laughing children. but eastwards and north steamed the _arrandoon_. indeed, she tried to do all the northing she could, with just as little easting as possible. she passed islands innumerable; islands that we fail to see in the chart, owing, no doubt, to the fact that they are usually covered entirely with ice and snow, and would be taken for immense icebergs. but this was a singularly open year, and there was no mistaking solid rocky land for floating ice. the bearings of all these were carefully put down in the charts--i say charts, because not only the captain and mate, but our young heroes as well, took the daily reckoning, and kept a log, though i am bound in the interests of truth to say that ralph very often did not write up his log for days and days, and then he impudently "fudged" it from rory's. "are you done with my log?" rory would sometimes modestly inquire of ralph as he sat at the table busily "fudging." "not yet, youngster," ralph would reply; "there, you go away and amuse yourself with your fiddle till i'm done with it, unless you specially want your ears pulled." mcbain landed at many of these islands, and hoisted beacons on them. these beacons were simply spare spars, with bunches of light wood lashed to their top ends, so that at some little distance they looked like tall brooms. he hoisted one on the highest peak of every island that lay in his route. they came at length to what seemed the very northernmost and most easterly of these islands, and on this mcbain determined to land provisions and store them. it would tend to lighten the ship; and "on the return voyage," said the captain, "if so be that providence shall protect and spare us, they will be a welcome sight." this done, the voyage was continued, and the sea becoming clearer of ice towards the west, the course was altered to almost due north. the wind drawing round more to the south, the fires were banked, and the vessel put under easy sail. the water all round looked black and deep; but, with all the caution of your true sailor, mcbain had two men constantly in the chains to heave the lead, with a watch continually in the crow's-nest to give warning of any sudden change in the colour of the water. more than once such a change was observed, the surface becoming of a yellowish ashen hue away ahead of them. then the main or fore yard was hauled aback, and a boat despatched to investigate, and it was found that the strange appearance was caused by myriads of tiny shrimplets, what the northern sailor calls "whale's food." whether this be whale food or not i cannot say for certain, but several times our heroes fell in with a shoal of bottle-noses, disporting themselves among these curious ashen-hued streams. this formed a temptation too great to resist, for the oil would do instead of fuel when they wintered away up in the extreme north. so boats were lowered--not two but four, for these brutes are as wild as the winds and more wily than any old fox. no less than four were "bagged," as rory called it. they were not large, but the blubber obtained from them was quite sufficient to fill one large tank. the best of it was, that ralph--big, "plethoric" (another of rory's pretty words), saxon ralph, made quite a hero of himself by manfully guiding his boat towards a floundering monster that was threatening destruction to the third whaler, which was fast to her, and skilfully spearing her at the very nick of time. rory was in the same boat, and drenched in blood from head to heels though both of them were, he must needs get up and shake his "baby brother" by the hand. "oh, sure!" said rory, with tears in his eyes, "it's myself that is proud of the english race, after all. they haven't the fire of the gael; but only just awaken them!--dear ray, you're a broth of a boy, entirely." "what do you think," said mcbain, one morning just after breakfast--"what do you think, rory, i'm going to make to-day?" "sure, i don't know," said rory, all interest. "why, fenders," said mcbain. "fenders?" ejaculated rory, with wider eyes. "fenders? troth it'll be fire-irons you'll be making next, sir; but what do you want with fenders?" "you don't take," said ralph. "it is fenders to throw overboard when the ice is too obtrusive, isn't it, sir?" "that's it," said the captain, laughing. "sometimes the bergs may be a bit too pressing with their attentions, and then i'll hang these over. that's it." it took nearly a fortnight to complete the manufacture of these fenders or trusses, for each of them was some twelve feet long by three in diameter composed of compressed straw and shielded by knitted ropework. to the captain's foresight in making these fenders, they several times owed the safety of their gallant ship during the winter that followed. a whole month passed away. the sun now set every night, and the still, long day began to get sensibly shorter. the progress northward was hindered by dense white fogs, which at times hugged the ship so closely that, standing by the bowsprit, you could not see the jibboom-end. the vessel, as sandy mcflail expressed it, seemed enveloped in huge sheets of wet lint. then the fog would lift partially off and away--in other words, it seemed to retire and station itself at some distance, with the ice looming through it in the most magical way. at these times the ship would be stopped, and our heroes were allowed to take boat exercise around the _arrandoon_, with strict injunctions not to go beyond a certain distance of the vessel. their laughing and talking and singing never failed to bring up a seal or two, or a round-eyed wondering walrus, or an inquisitive bladder-nose, but the appearance of these animals, as they loomed gigantic through the fog, was sometimes awful in the extreme. when a malley or gull came sweeping down towards them it looked as big as the fabulous roc that carried away sinbad the sailor, and rory would throw himself in the bottom of the boat and pretend to be in a terrible fright. [the optical illusions caused among the ice by these fogs are well and humorously described in a book just to hand called "the voyage of the _vega_" (macmillan and co). i myself wrote on the same subject _thirteen years ago_, in a series of articles on greenland north.] "oh! ray, boy, look at the roc," he would cry. "i'm come for, sure enough. do catch hold of me, big brother. don't let the great baste carry me off. sure, he'll fly up to the moon with me, as the eagle did with daniel o'rourke." i think the fog must have caused delusions in sound as well as sight, else why the following. they were pulling gently about, one day, in the first whaler, when, borne along on the slight breeze that was blowing, came a sound as of happy children engaged at play. the merry laughter and the occasional excited scream or shout were most distinctly audible. "whatever can it be?" cried allan, looking very serious, his somewhat superstitious nature for a moment gaining the ascendency. "sure," said rory, "you needn't pull so long a face, old man; it's only the childer just got out of school." the "childer" in this instance were birds. "it's much clearer to-day," said stevenson, one morning, as he made his usual report. "we can see the clouds, and they're all on the scud. i expect we'll have wind soon, sir." "very well, mr stevenson," was the reply, "be ready for it, you know; have the fires lit and banked, and then stand by to get the ice-anchors and fenders on board," (the ship was fast to a berg). "there is a line of ice to the westward, sir, about a quarter of a mile off, and clear water all between." "thank you, mr stevenson." but stevenson did not retire. he stopped, hesitatingly. "you've something to ask me, i think?" said mcbain. "i've something to tell you," replied the mate, with a kind of a forced laugh. "i dare say you will think me a fool for my pains, but as sure as you gentlemen are sitting there at breakfast this morning, about five bells in the middle watch i saw--and every man jack of us saw--" "saw what?" said mcbain. "sit down, man; you are looking positively scared." "we saw--_the great sea-serpent_!" [what is herein related really occurred as described. i myself was a witness to the event, being then in medical charge of the barque _xanthus_, recently burned at sea.] mcbain did not attempt to laugh him out of his story, but he made him describe over and over again what he had seen; then he called the watch, and examined them verbally man by man, and found they all told the self-same tale, talking soberly, earnestly, and truthfully, as men do who feel they are stating facts. the terrible monster they averred came from the northwards, and was distinctly visible for nearly a minute, passing between the ship and the ice-line which stevenson had mentioned. they described his length, which could not have been less than seventy or eighty yards, the undulations of his body as he swept along on the surface of the water, the elevated head, the mane and--some added--the awful glaring eyes. it did not come on to blow as the mate predicted, so the ship made no move from her position, but all day long there was but little else talked about, either fore or aft, save the visit of the great sea-serpent, and as night drew on the stories told around the galley fire would have been listened to with interest by any one at all fond of the mysterious and awful. "i mean," said rory, as he retired, "to turn out as soon as it is light, and watch; the brute is sure to return. i've told peter to call me." "so shall i," said allan and the doctor. "so shall i," said ralph. "well, boys," said mcbain, "i'll keep you company." when they went on deck, about four bells in the middle watch, they were not surprised to find all hands on deck, eagerly gazing towards the spot where they had seen "the maned monster of the deep,"--as poet rory termed him--disappear. it was a cold, dull cheerless morning; the sun was up but his beams were sadly shorn--they failed to pierce the thick canopy of clouds and mist that overspread the sky, and brought the horizon within a quarter of a mile of them. they could, however, easily see the ice-line--long and low and white. a whole hour passed, and mcbain at all events was thinking of going below, when suddenly came a shout from the men around the forecastle. "look! look! oh! look! yonder he rips! there he goes!" gazing in the direction indicated, the hearts of more than one of our heroes seemed to stand still with a strange, mysterious fear, for there, rushing over the surface of the dark water, the undulated body well-defined against the white ice-edge, was--what else could it be?-- the great sea-serpent! "i can see his mane and head and eyes," cried rory. "oh! it is too dreadful." then a shout from the masthead,-- "he is coming this way." it was true. the maned monster had altered his course, and was bearing straight down upon the _arrandoon_. no one moved from his position, but there were pale, frightened faces and starting eyes; and though the men uttered no cry, a strange, frightened moan arose, a fearful quavering "oh-h-h?"--a sound that once heard is never to be forgotten. next moment, the great sea-serpent, with a wild and unearthly scream, bore down upon the devoted ship, then suddenly resolved itself _into a long flight of sea-birds_ (arctic divers)! so there you have a true story of the great sea-serpent, but i am utterly at a loss to describe to you the jollity and fun and laughing that ensued, as soon as the ridiculous mistake was discovered. and nothing would suit ted wilson but getting up on the top of the bowsprit and shouting,-- "men of the _arrandoon_, bold sailors all, three cheers for the great sea-serpent. hip! hip! hip! hurrah!!!" down below dived ralph, followed by all the others. "peter! peter! peter!" he cried. "ay, ay, sir," from peter. "peter, i'm precious hungry." "and so am i," said everybody. peter wasn't long in laying the cloth and bringing out the cold meat and the pickles, and it wasn't long either before freezing powders brought hot coffee. oh! didn't they do justice to the good things, too! "i dare say," said the doctor, "this is our breakfast." "ridiculous!" cried ralph, "ridiculous! it's only a late supper, doctor. we'll have breakfast just the same." "a vera judeecious arrangement," said sandy. chapter thirty. land ho! the isle of desolation--the last blink of sunshine--the aurora borealis--strange adventure with a bear. "well, magnus," said captain mcbain one day to his old friend, "what think you of our prospects of gaining the north pole, or your mysterious island of alba?" magnus was seated at the table in the captain's own room, with an old yellow, much-worn chart spread out before him, the only other person in the cabin, save these two, being rory, who, with his chin resting on his hands and his elbows on the table, was listening with great interest to the conversation. "think of it?" replied the weird wee man, looking up and glaring at mcbain through his fierce grey eyebrows. "think of it, sir? why we are nearly as far north now as _we_ were in . we'll reach the isle of alba, sir, if--" "if what, good magnus?" asked mcbain, as the old man paused. "if what?" "if that be all you want," answered magnus. "nay, nay, my faithful friend," cried the captain, "that isn't all. we want to reach the pole, to plant the british flag thereon, and return safely to our native shores again." "so you will, so you will," said magnus, "if--" "what, another `if,' magnus?" said mcbain. "what does this new `if' refer to?" "if," continued magnus, "providence gives us just such another autumn as that we have had this year. if not--" "well, magnus, well?" "we will leave our bones to lie among the eternal snows until the last trump shall sound." after a pause, during which mcbain seemed in deep and earnest thought. "magnus," he said, "my brave boys and i have determined to push on as far as ever we can. we have counted all the chances, we mean to do our utmost, and we leave the rest to providence." allan had entered while he was speaking, and he said, as the captain finished,-- "whatever a man dares he can do." "brave words, my foster-son," replied mcbain, grasping allan's hand, "and the spirit of these words gained for the english nation the victory in a thousand fights." "besides, you know," added rory, looking unusually serious, "it is sure to come right in the end." the _arrandoon_, wonderful to relate, had now gained the extreme altitude of degrees north latitude, and although winter was rapidly approaching, the sea was still a comparatively open one. nor was the cold very intense; the frosts that had fled away during the short arctic summer had not yet returned. the sea between the bergs and floes was everywhere calm; they had passed beyond the region of fogs, and, it would almost seem, beyond the storm regions as well, for the air was windless. so on they steamed steadily though slowly, never relaxing their vigilance; so careful, indeed, in this respect was mcbain, that the man in the chains as well as the "nest hand" were changed every hour, and only old and tried sailors were permitted to go on duty on these posts. "land ahead!" was the shout one day from the nest. the day, be it remembered, was now barely an hour long. "land ahead on the port bow!" "what does it look like, mr stevenson?" cried the captain. the mate had run up at the first hail. "i can just see the tops of a few hills, sir," was the reply, "towering high over the icebergs." the _arrandoon_ bore away for this strange land. in three hours' time they were lying off one of the dreariest and most desolate-looking islands it has ever been the lot of mariners to behold. it looked like an island of some worn-out planet, whose internal fires have gone for ever out, from which life has long since fled, which possesses no future save the everlasting night of silence and death. some slight repairs were required in the engine-room, so the _arrandoon_ lay here for a week. "to think," said mcbain, as he stood on the bridge one day with our heroes, "that in the far-distant past that lonely isle of gloom was once clad in all the bright colour of tropical vegetation, with wild beasts roaming in its jungles and forests, and wild birds filling its groves with music,--an island of sunshine, flowers, and beauty! and now behold it." an expedition was got up to explore the isle, and to climb its highest peak to make observations. mcbain himself accompanied it, so did allan, rory, and seth. it was no easy task, climbing that snowy cone by the light of stars and aurora. but they gained the summit ere the short, short day broke. to the north and west they saw land and mountains, stretching away and away as far as eye could follow them. to the east and north water studded with ugly icebergs that looked as if they had broken away from the shores of the western land. "but what is that in the middle of yonder ice-floe to the south and west?" cried rory. "as i live," exclaimed mcbain, as he eyed the object through the glass, "it is a ship of some kind, evidently deserted; and it is quite as evident that we are not the only explorers that have reached as far north as this island." the mystery was explained next day, and a sad story brought to light. mcbain and party landed on the floe and walked towards the derelict. she was sloop-rigged, with sails all clewed, and her hull half hidden in snow. after a deal of difficulty they succeeded in opening one of the companion hatches, and making their way down below. no less than five unburied corpses lay huddled together in the little cabin. from their surroundings it was plain they had been walrus-hunters, and it was not difficult to perceive that the poor fellows had died from cold and hunger _many, many years before_. frozen in, too far up in this northern sea, they had been unable to regain the open water, and so had miserably perished. next day they returned and laid the mortal remains of these unfortunate men in graves in the snow, and even rory was much more silent and thoughtful than usual as they returned to the ship. was it not possible that they might meet with a similar fate? the poor fellows they had just buried had doubtless possessed many home ties; their wives and mothers had waited and wished a weary time, till at long last the heart had grown sick with hope deferred, and maybe the grave had long since closed over them. such were some of rory's thoughts, but after dinner mcbain "brought him up with a round turn," as he phrased it. "rory," he cried, "go and play to us. freezing powders, you young rascal, bring that cockatoo of yours up on the table and make us laugh." rory brightened up and got hold of his fiddle; and "all right, sah," cried freezing powders. "i bring de old cockatoo plenty quick. come along, cockie, you catchee my arm and pull yourse'f up. dat's it." "come on," cried cockie, hopping on the table and at once commencing to waltz and polka round. "come on; play up, play up." a queer bird was cockie. he cared for nobody except his master and rory. rory he loved solely on account of the fiddle, but his affection for freezing powders was very genuine. when his master was glad, so was cockie; when the little nigger boy felt tired, and threw himself down beside the cage to rest, then cockie would open his cage door and back tail foremost under the boy's arm, heaving as he did so a deep, delighted sigh, as much as to say, "oh, what joy it is to nestle in here?" cockie was not a pretty bird; his bill was worn and all twisted awry, and his eyes looked terribly old-fashioned, and the blue, wrinkled skin around them gave him quite an antediluvian look. he was white in colour--or, more correctly speaking, he had been white once; but time, that steals the roses from the softest cheeks, had long since toned him down to a kind of yellow lilac, so he did not look a very respectable bird on the whole. "you ought to wash him," mcbain said, one day. "wash him, sah?" said freezing powders; "is dat de 'xpression you make use of, sah? bless you, sah! i have tried dat plenty much often; i have tried to wash myself, too. no good in eeder case, sah; i 'ssure you i speak de truf." "come on i come on?" cried cockie. "play up! play up! la de lal, de lal, de lal!" and round spun the bird, keeping time to the merry air, and every now and then giving a "whoop?" such as could only be emitted by cockie himself, a connemara irishman, or a cuscarora indian. but this is a remarkable thing, cockie danced and whirled in one direction till he found his head getting light, then he reversed the action, and whirled round the other way! [this description of the wonderful bird is in no way overdrawn.] it really seemed as if he would tire rory out. "lal de dal!" he sung: "our days are short--whoop!--our lives are merry--lal de dal, de dal, de _whoop_!" but rory changed his tactics; he began to play _the last rose of summer_, leaning down towards the table. cockie stopped at once, and backed, tail foremost, in under the musician's hands, crouching down with a sigh to listen. but rory went off again into the _sprig of shillelagh_, and off went cockie, too, dancing more madly than ever with a small flag in his mouth that freezing powders had handed him. then he stopped at last, and walked about gasping, pitching penholders and pencils in all directions. "here's a pretty to-do!" he said; and when somebody laughed, cockie simply shrieked with laughter till he had everybody joining him and holding their sides, and feeling sore all over. verily, cockie was a cure! no wonder his master loved him. in a few days the _arrandoon_ left the desolate island, which rory had named "walrus isle." everybody was on deck as the vessel slowly steamed away. most of the land was already shrouded in gloom, only in the far distance a tall mountain cone was all ablaze with a crimson glory, borrowed from the last blink of sunshine. yes, the god of day had sunk to rest, and they would bask no more in his cheering beams for many a long and weary month to come. "give us a bass, ray, old boy!" cried rory; "and you, doctor, a tenor." and he started,-- "shades of evening, close not o'er us, leave our lonely bark awhile, morn, alas! will not restore us yonder dim and distant isle." ah, reader! what a glorious thing music is; i tell you, honestly and truthfully, that i do not believe i could have come through half the trials and troubles and griefs and worries i have had in life, if i had not at times been able to seek solace and comfort from my old cremona. our heroes thought at first they would greatly miss the light of the sun, but they soon got quite used to the strange electric light emitted by the splendid aurora, combined with that which gleamed more steadily downwards from the brilliant stars. these stars were seen to best advantage in the south; they seemed very large and very near, and whether it was the reflection of the aurora, or whether it was real, i never could tell, but they seemed to shine with differently coloured lights. there were pure white stars, mostly low on the horizon; there were crimson and green changing stars, and yellow and rose-coloured changing stars, and some of a pale-golden hue, the soft light of which was inexpressibly lovely. but any effort of mine to paint in words the extreme beauty of the heavens on clear nights would prove but a painful failure, so i leave it alone. the chief bow of the aurora is, i may just mention, composed apparently of spears of ever-changing rainbow-coloured light continually falling back into masses and phalanxes, and anon advancing and clashing, as it were. while walking on the ice-fields, if you listen, you can hear a strange whispering, hissing sound emitted from these clashing, mixing spears. the following letters, whispered rapidly, give some faint idea of this mysterious sound,-- "ush-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh." you can also produce a somewhat similar noise by rubbing your fingers swiftly backwards and forwards on a sheet of paper. but indeed the whole firmament, when the sky was clear, was precisely as rory described it--"one beautiful poem." many bears were now seen, and nearly all that were seen were killed. they were enormously large and fierce, foolishly fierce indeed, for they seldom thought of taking to flight. there were unicorns (narwhals) in the sea in scores, and walruses on the flat ice by the dozen. it was after these latter that master bruin came prowling. a nice juicy walrus-steak a greenland bear will tell you is the best thing in the world for keeping the cold out. old trapper seth had strange ways of hunting at times. one example must suffice. our heroes had been out after a walrus which they had succeeded in killing. a bear or two had been seen an hour or two before that, evidently on the prowl, and probably very hungry. now, nothing will fetch these kings of the northern ice more surely than the scent of blood. "young gentlemen," said seth, "there's a b'ar about somewheres, and i reckon he ain't far off either. now, we'll just whip this old walrus out o' his skin, and seth will creep in, and you'll see what you'll see." he was very busy with his knife as he spoke, and in a few minutes the crang was got out and thrown into the water, the head being left on. into the skin crept the trapper, lying down at full length with his rifle close by his side, and by his directions away pulled the boat. it was not two hundred yards off, when up out of the sea scrambled a huge bear. "hullo," says bruin, shaking himself like a dozen great newfoundland dogs rolled into one--"hullo! they've killed the wallie and left him. now won't i have a blow-out just?" and he licked his great chops in anticipation. "dear me?" continued bruin, as the walrus turned right round and confronted him; "why, they haven't quite killed you! never mind, wallie, i'll put you out of pain, and i'll do it ever so gently. then i'll just have one leetle bite out of your loin, you know." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "i guess you won't this journey," said seth, bringing his rifle into position as the bear prepared to spring. "i reckon it'll be the other way on, and b'ar's steak ain't to be sneezed at when it's nicely cooked." bang! it was very soon over with that poor bear; he never even changed the position into which he had thrown himself, but lay there dead, with his great head on his paws like a gigantic dog asleep. chapter thirty one. a council--preparing for winter quarters--the isle of alba and its mammoth caves--magnus's tale--at his boy's grave. the word "canny" is often applied to scotchmen in a somewhat disparaging sense by those who do not know the meaning of the word, nor the true character of the people on whom they choose to fix the epithet. the word is derived from "can," signifying knowledge, ability, skill, etc, and probably a corruption of the gaelic "caen" (head). the scotch are pre-eminently a thinking nation, and, as a rule, they are individually skilful in their undertakings; they like to look before they leap, they like to know what they have to do before they begin, but having begun, they work or fight with all their life and power. it was "canniness" that won for robert bruce the battle of bannockburn, it was the canniness of prince charles stuart that enabled him to defeat sir john cope at the battle of dunbar. there is no nation in the world possesses more "can" than the scotch, although they are pretty well matched by the germans. prince bismarck is the canniest man of the century. "a berlin! a berlin!" was the somewhat childish cry of the volatile gaul, when war broke out betwixt his sturdy neighbour and him. yes, fair france, go to berlin if you choose, only first and foremost you have to overthrow--what? oh! only one man. a very old one, too. yonder he is, in that tent in the corner of a field, seated at a table, quietly solving, one would almost think, a chess problem. and so it is, but he is playing the game with living men, and every move he makes is carefully studied. that old man in the tent, to which the wires converge from the field of battle, is general von moltke, the best soldier that the world has ever known since the days of bonaparte and wellington, and the _canniest_. but the word "canny" never implies over-frugality or meanness, and i believe my readers will go a long way through the world, without meeting a scotchman who would not gladly share the last sixpence he had in the world to benefit a friend. our captain mcbain was canny in the true sense of the word, and it was this canniness of his that induced him to call his officers, and every one who could think and give an opinion, into the saloon two days after the events described in the last chapter. after making a short speech, in which he stated his own ideas freely, he called upon them to express theirs. "if," he concluded, "you think we have gone far enough north with the ship, here, or near here, we will anchor; if you think we ought to push on, i will take that barrier of ice to the north-east, and push and bore and forge and blast my way for many miles farther, and it may be we will strike the open water around the pole, if such open water exists." "we are now," said stevenson, after consulting for a short time with the second mate, with magnus, and de vere the aeronaut--"we are now nearly degrees north and degrees west from the meridian; the season has been a wonderful one, but will we have an open summer to find our way back again if we push on farther?" "no," cried old magnus, with some vehemence; "no, such seasons as these come but once in ten years." "i see how the land lies," said mcbain, smiling, "and i am glad that we are all of the same way of thinking. well, gentlemen, this decides me; we shall winter where we are." "hurrah!" cried stevenson; "we wouldn't have gone contrary to your wishes for the world, captain, but i'm sure we will be all delighted to go into winter quarters." after this the _arrandoon_ was kept away more to the west, where the water was clearer of bergs, and where mountainous land was seen to lie. they steamed along this land or shore for many miles, although lighted only by the bright silvery stars and the gleaming aurora. they came at length to a small landlocked bay or gulf, entirely filled with flat ice. the ship was stopped, and all hands ordered away to a clear a passage by means of ice-saws and torpedoes. after many hours of hard work this was successfully accomplished, and the vessel was warped in till she lay close under the lee of the braeland, that rose steeply up from the surface of the sea. those braes were to the north and west of them, and would help to shelter the ship from at least one of the coldest winds. "well, boys," said mcbain that day as they sat down to dinner, and he spoke more cheerfully than he had done since the departure of the _scotia_,--"well, boys, here we are safe and snug in winter quarters. how do you like the prospect of living here for three months without ever catching a blink of the sun?" "i for one don't mind it a bit," said allan. "it'll do us all good; but won't we be glad to see the jolly visage of old sol again, when he peeps over the hills to see whether we are dead or alive!" "i'm sure," said rory, "that i will enjoy the fun immensely." "what fun?" asked ralph. "why, the new sensation," replied rory; "a winter at the pole." "you're not quite there yet," said ralph; "but as for me, i think i'll enjoy it too, though of course winter in london would be more lively. why, what is that green-looking stuff in those glasses, doctor?" "that's your dram," said sandy. "why it's lime-juice," cried rory, tasting his glass and making a face. "so it is," said ralph. "where are the sugar-plums, doctor?" "yes," cried rory; "where are the plums? oh!" he continued, "i have it--a drop of silas grig's green ginger, steward, quick." and every day throughout the winter, when our heroes swallowed their dose of lime-juice, they were allowed a tiny drop of green ginger to put away the taste, and as they sipped it, they never failed to think and talk of honest silas. and lime-juice was served out by the surgeon to all hands. they knew well it was to keep scurvy at bay, so they quietly took their dose and said nothing. the sea remained open for about a week longer, and scores of bears were bagged. [these animals are said to bury themselves in the snow during winter, and sleep soundly for two or three months. this, however, is doubtful.] this seemed, indeed, to be the autumn home of the king of the ice. then the winter began to close in in earnest, and all saving the noonday twilight deserted them. the sky, however, remained clear and starry, and many wonderful meteors were seen almost nightly shooting across the firmament, and for a time lighting up the strange and desolate scene with a brightness like the noon of day. the aurora was clearer and more dazzling after the frost came, so that as far as light was concerned the sun was not so much missed. on going on deck one morning our heroes were astonished to find a light gleaming down upon them from the maintop, of such dazzling whiteness that they were fain, for the moment, to press their hands against their eyes. it was an electric candle, means for erecting which mcbain had provided himself with before leaving the clyde. so successful was he with his experiment that the sea of ice on the one hand, and the braeland on the other, seemed enshrouded in gloom. rory gazed in ecstasy, then he must needs walk up to mcbain and shake him enthusiastically by the hand, laughing as he remarked,-- "'deed, indeed, captain, you're a wonderful man. whatever made you think of this? what a glorious surprise. have you any more in store for us? really! sir, i don't know what your boys would do without you at all at all." thus spoke impulsive young rory, as mcbain laughingly returned his hand-shake, while high overhead the new light eclipsed the radiance of the brightest stars. but what is that strange, mournful cry that is heard among the hills far up above them? it comes nearer and still more near, and then out from the gloom swoops a gigantic bird. attracted by the light, it has come from afar, and now keeps wheeling round and round it. previously there had not been a bird visible for many days, but now, curious to relate, they come in hundreds, and even alight close by the ship to feed on the refuse that has been thrown overboard. "it is strange, isn't it, sir?" said rory. "it is, indeed," replied mcbain, adding, after a pause, "rory, boy, i've got an idea." "well," said rory, "i know before you mention it that it is a good one." "ah! but," said mcbain, "i'm not going to mention it yet awhile." "i vill vager," said the aeronaut, who stood beside them, gazing upwards at the bright light and the circling birds--"i vill vager my big balloon dat de same idea has struck me myself." "whisper," said the captain. the aeronaut did so, and mcbain burst out laughing. "how funny!" he remarked; "but you are perfectly right, de vere; only keep it dark for a bit." "oh yes," said de vere, laughing in turn; "very dark; as dark as--" "hush?" cried mcbain, clapping a hand on his mouth. "how tantalising!" said rory. "you'll know all about it in good time," mcbain said; "and now, boys, we've got to prepare for winter in right good earnest. duty before pleasure, you know. now here is what i propose." what he did propose was set about without loss of time. little ap was summoned aft. "can you build barrows?" asked mcbain. little ap took an immense pinch of snuff before he replied. "i have built many a boat," he said, "but never a barrow. but look, you see, with the help of the cooper and the carpenters i can build barrows by the dozen. yes, yes, sir." "bravo, ap!" cried mcbain; "then set about it at once, for we are all going to turn navvies. we are going," he added, "to excavate a cave half-way up that brae yonder on the starboard quarter. it will be big enough, ap, to hold the whole ship's crew, officers and all. it will be a glorious shelter from the cold, and it will--" "stop," cried sandy mcflail. "beg your pardon, sir, but let me finish the sentence: it will give the men employment and keep sickness away." "that's it, my worthy surgeon," said mcbain. "bravo!" said sandy. "i look upon that now as--" sandy paused and reddened a little. "as a vera judeecious arrangement," said rory, laughing. "out with it, sandy, man." rory edged off towards the door of the saloon as he spoke; the doctor kicked over his chair and made a dart after him, but rory had fled. hardly, however, was the surgeon re-seated ere his tormentor keeked in again. "eh! mon, sandy mcflail," he cried; "you'll want to take a lot more salt in your porridge, mon, before ye can catch rory elphinston." on the hillside, fifty feet above the sea level, they commenced operations, and in a fortnight's time the cave was almost completed; and not only that, but a beautiful staircase leading up to it. the soil was not hard after the outer crust was tapped, although some veins of quartz were alighted upon which required to be blasted. several times they came across the trunks of huge trees that seemed to have been scorched by fire, the remains, doubtless, of the primeval forest that had once clad these hills with a sea of living green. nor were bones wanting; some of immense size were turned up and carefully preserved. rory made a careful study of the remains of the animal and vegetable life which were found, and the result of this was his painting two pictures representing the past and present of the strange land where their vessel now lay. the one represented the _arrandoon_ lying under bare poles and yards in the ice-locked bay, with the wild mountainous land beyond, peak rising o'er peak, and crag o'er crag, all clad in the garments of eternal winter, and asleep in the uncertain light of the countless stars and the radiant aurora. but the other picture! who but rory--who but an artist-poet could have painted that? there are the same formations of hill and dale, the same towering peaks and bold bluffs, but neither ice nor snow is there; the glens and valleys are clad in waving forests; flowers and ferns are there; lichens, crimson and white, creep and hang over the brown rocks; happy birds are in the sky; bright-winged butterflies seem flitting in the noonday sunshine, and strange animals of monstrous size are basking on the sea-shore. rory's pictures were admired by all hands, but the artist had his private view to begin with, and, among others like privileged, aft came weird old magnus. first he was shown the picture of the past. he gazed at it long and earnestly, muttering to himself, "strange, strange, strange." but no sooner was the companion picture placed before him, than he started from the chair on which he had been sitting. "i was right! i was right?" he cried. "oh! bless you, boy rory; bless you, captain mcbain. this--this is the isle of alba. yonder are the dear hills. i thought i could not be mistaken, and not far off are the mammoth caves. i can guide you, gentlemen, to the place where lies wealth untold. this is the happiest day of old magnus's life." "sit down, magnus," said mcbain, kindly; "sit down, my old sea-dad. gentlemen, gather round us; magnus has something to tell us i know. magnus," he continued, taking the old man's thin and withered hand in his, "i have often thought you knew more about this isle of alba than you cared to tell. what is the mystery? you have spoken so often about these mammoth caves. how know you there is wealth of ivory lying there?" "i have no story to relate," said magnus, talking apparently to himself; "only a sad reminiscence of a voyage i took years and years ago to these same dreary latitudes. i had a son with me, a son i loved for his dead mother's sake and his own. i commanded a sloop--'twas but a sloop--and we sailed away from norwegian shores in search of the ivory mines. we reached this very island. the year was an open one, just like this; myself and my brave fellows found ivory in abundance; in such abundance that our sloop would not carry a thousandth part of it, for, gentlemen, in ages long gone by, this island and those around it were the homes of the mammoth and the mastodon. we collected all the ivory and placed it in one cave. how i used to gloat over my treasure! it was all for my boy. he would be the richest man in northern europe. my boy, my dear boy, with his mother's eyes! i had only to go back to norway with my sloop and charter a large vessel, and return to the isle of alba for my buried treasure." here poor old magnus threw his body forward and covered his face with his skinny hands, and the tears welled through his fingers, while his whole form was convulsed with sobs. "my boy--died!" was all he could utter. "he sleeps yonder--yonder at the cave's mouth. yonder--yonder. to-morrow i will guide you to the cave, and we will see my boy." the old man seemed wandering a little. "i would sleep now," he added. "to-morrow--to-morrow." there was a strange light in magnus's eye next day when he joined the search party on deck, and a strange flush on his cheek that seemed to bode no good. "i'll see my boy," he kept repeating to himself, as he led the way on shore. "i'll see my boy." he walked so fast that his younger companions could hardly keep pace with him. along the shore and upwards through a glen, round hills and rocks, by many a devious path, he led them on and on, till they stood at last at the foot of a tall perpendicular cliff, with, close beside it, a spar or flagstaff. they knew now that magnus had not been raving, that they were no old man's dream, these mammoth caves, but a glorious reality. "quick, quick," cried magnus, pointing to a spot at the foot of the spar. "clear away the snow." our heroes were hardly prepared for the sight that met their eyes, as soon as magnus had been obeyed, for there, encased in a block of crystal ice, lay the form of a youth of probably sixteen summers, dressed in the blue uniform of a norwegian sailor, with long fair hair floating over his shoulders. time had wrought no change on the face; this lad, though buried for twenty years, seemed even now only in a gentle slumber, from which a word or touch might awake him. "my boy! my boy!" was the cry of the old man, as he knelt beside the grave, kissed the cold ice, and bedewed it with his tears. "look up, look up; 'tis your father that is bending over you. but no, no, no; he'll never speak nor smile again. oh! my boy, my boy!" rory was in tears, and not he alone, for the roughest sailor that stood beside the grave could not witness the grief of that old man unmoved. mcbain stepped forward and placed his hand kindly on his shoulder. magnus turned his streaming eyes just once upwards to his captain's face, then he gave vent to one long, sobbing sigh, threw out his arms, and dropped. magnus was no more. they made his grave close to that of his boy's, and there, side by side, these twain will sleep till the sea gives up its dead. chapter thirty two. the terrible snowstorm--something like an aquarium--the mammoth caves and their startling treasures--the journey polewards--collapse of the balloon--"god save the queen." four long months have passed away since poor old magnus dropped dead on the grave of his son. the sun has once more appeared above the horizon, bringing joy to the hearts of the officers and crew of the _arrandoon_. despite every effort to keep their spirits up, the past winter has been a weary one. had the stars always shone, had the glorious aurora always flickered above them, it might have been different; but shortly after the cave was finished and furnished, divided into compartments, and made comfortable with chairs and sofas, and carpets and skins, a terrible storm came on them from the north-west. never had our young heroes, never had mcbain himself, known such cold, or such fierce winds and depth of snow. for three whole weeks did this arctic storm rage, and during this time it would have been certain death for any one to have ventured ten yards from the mouth of the cavern. but the wind fell at last, the clouds dispersed, and once more the goodly stars shone forth, and the bright aurora. then they ventured to creep out from their friendly shelter. the arctic night seemed now as bright as day; they could hardly believe that the sun was not hidden behind some of those quartz-like clouds, that were still banked up on the south-eastern horizon. but where was the ship? where was their lordly _arrandoon_? for a moment it seemed as if the ice had opened and swallowed her up. they rubbed their wondering eyes and looked again. three silver streaks glimmering against the dark blue of the sky represented her topmasts; all the rest of her was buried beneath the snow. and as far as they could see seaward it was all a waste of smooth dazzling white, with here and there only the points and peaks of the icebergs appearing above it. as soon as the snow had sunk, which it soon did many feet, mcbain had got his crew ready to start for the mammoth mines. the weather had continued fine, only there were whole weeks during which the wind blew so cuttingly fierce that no work or walking either could be attempted. the troglodytes--an expression of rory's--were, therefore, a good deal confined to their cave, and it was well for them then that they had books to read and the wherewithal to amuse themselves in many other ways. the following is a remark that rory had made to ralph and allan one day, after nearly three months of the winter had passed away. "which of you troglodytes is going with me to-morrow to see the sun rise?" "not i, thanks," said ralph. "pass the ham, old man; that bit of bear-steak was a treat." "i'll go," said allan. "hurrah!" cried rory. "it is you that's the brave boy after all. we'll have friend seth, too, and the dogs. it's the first time they've been out; it will do us all good." this sledging-party had been a merry one, but they were obliged to leave the dogs at the foot of the mountain, and climb, as best they could, to the top, where, sure enough, they were soon rewarded by a glimpse, just one thrilling glimpse, of the king of day. they could not refrain from shouting aloud with joy. they shouted and cheered, and though, well-nigh three miles from the cave, the troglodytes there heard it, so intense was the silence, and gave them back shout for shout and cheer for cheer. they had seen something, though, from the hill-top that had very much astonished them. in the centre of this curious island, and entirely surrounded by mountains, was a lake of open water, as black as ink it looked in contrast with the snow-clad braeland around it, and right in the centre thereof played an enormous geyser, or natural fountain. it was evidently of volcanic origin. the days got longer and longer, and in five months from the time they had entered the cave day and night were about equal. but i must not omit telling you of the strange experiment that had suggested itself to mcbain while gazing upwards at the birds--lured from afar--circling round the electric light. it was nothing more nor less than that of paying a visit, by means of a diving-bell and the electric light, to the denizens of the deep--the creatures that lived in the ocean under the ice. everything was got ready under the supervision of the aeronaut, ably assisted by the carpenter and crew and little ap. the bell itself was an immense one, and most carefully constructed to float or sink at will. inside it was quite as comfortable as the room in the lift of some of our large hotels. ralph seldom went far out of his way in search of adventure, but this new and wonderful experiment seemed to possess an irresistible charm even for him. as for rory, he was, as sandy mcflail said, "half daft" over the idea. mcbain was most careful in seeing that everything was in working order; and the bell was sunk and re-sunk empty a dozen times in the water before he would allow any one to venture down in it. the snow had been previously cleared away all from and around the ship, and an immense ice-hole made for the purpose of conducting the experiment. when all seemed safe, and it was found that the bell, sunk to a depth of forty feet, was acted on by no current, but rose straight to the surface of the ice-hole when wanted, then the captain himself and de vere ventured down. they remained beneath for fully twenty minutes--and anxious minutes they were to those on the surface; then the signal to hoist was given, and presently up bobbed the bell, and was raised to the level by the derrick, when out stepped de vere and mcbain. "smiling all over, sure!" said rory, "and looking as clean and sweet and pretty as if they'd just popped out of a band-box." the diving-bell was called "the band-box" after this. but it was after dark that the real experiment was to take place. "troth!" said rory at dinner that day, "will you fellows never have done eating? it's myself that is longing to get away down to the bottom of the sea." the four of them entered the band-box--allan, ralph, the doctor, and rory; then they were slowly lowered down--down--down amid a darkness that could be felt. but presently a green glimmer of light shone in through the strong window of the bell; they could see each other's faces. the light got stronger and stronger as the electric ball came nearer and nearer, till at last it stopped stationary about twelve yards from their window, making the sea all round, beneath, and above it as bright as noon. "yonder is the stage, boys," cried rory; "but where are the performers?" they had not long to wait for these. fish, first of the smaller kinds, came sailing round the light; presently these fled in all directions, and a monster shark took up the room. he soon had company, for dozens of others came floating around, and not sharks only, but creatures of more hideous forms than anything even rory could have imagined in his wildest dreams. "oh!" cried the young poet, "if gustave dore were only here to see this terrible sight!" "it beats," said sandy, "the brighton aquarium all to pieces. oh?" he screamed, shrinking into a corner of the band-box, as a huge hammer-headed shark sidled up to the window, crooked his awful eyes, and stared in. "oh, rory, man, signal quick! i want to get up out o' here. no more divin'-bells for me, lad." for nearly six weeks it became the regular custom to visit this submarine vivarium every night after dinner. "it was just as good," ralph and allan said, "as going to a show." "and a deal better," added rory. even the mates and the crew begged for a peep at the wonders displayed in the depths of the illuminated sea. "well," said ted wilson, when he ascended after his first view, "i'm a sadder and a wiser man, and i'll dream of what i've seen this night as long as ever i live." they found the mouth of the mammoth cave, near which lay all that was mortal of poor old magnus and his son, after days and days of digging; but when at long last they succeeded in forcing an entrance, one glance around them proved that they had indeed fallen upon riches and wealth untold. those vast tusks and teeth of the mighty monsters of an age long past and gone were of the purest ivory, more white and hard than any they had ever seen before. "why, sure," said rory, "the cave of aladdin was nothing to this!" "the next thing, gentlemen," said the captain, "is to transport our treasure to the good ship _arrandoon_. seth, old friend, your dogs will be wanted now in good earnest." "i reckon," replied seth, "they're all ready, sir, and just mad enough to eat each other's collars, 'cause they don't get anything to do." what a change it was to have sunshine and a comparative degree of warmth again. rough and toilsome enough was the road between the ship and the mammoth cave, but the snow was crisp and hard. the dogs were wild with delight, and so were our heroes, and so hard did everybody work all day that no one thought any more about the diving-bell and the denizens of the deep. after dinner they needed rest. rory took his boat, or canoe, with him once or twice, and, all alone, he embarked on the volcanic lake and paddled round the geyser. in three weeks from the day they had found the entrance to the cave they had transported all the ivory to the _arrandoon_. they were now what silas would have called a "bumper ship." if they should succeed in regaining their own country, rory would be able to live all his days in peace and comfort, independent of the whims of his irish tenantry, and allan--ah, yes, poor allan!--began to dream of home now. already, in imagination, he saw glentruim a fair and smiling valley, every acre of it tilled, comfortable cottages sending their blue smoke heavenwards from the green birchen woods, a new and beautiful church, and the castle restored, himself once more resuming his rights of chief of his clan, and his dear mother and sister honoured and respected by all. "i'll roast an ox whole, boys!" he cried, one evening, jumping up from the sofa in the snuggery, where he had been lying thinking and dreaming of the future. "a whole ox; nothing less!" rory and ralph burst out laughing. "a vera judeecious arrangement!" cried sandy. "but where will ye get the ox? i'm getting tired o' bear-beef, and wouldn't mind a slice out of a juicy stot's rump." "oh, dear!" said allan, smiling; "i forgot you hadn't been following the train of my thoughts. i was back again in arrandoon." "hurrah!" cried rory. "gather round the fire, boys; sit in, captain; sit in, sandy; let us talk about home and what we all will do when we get there." little, little did they know then the hardships that were in store for them. summer had fairly set in, but as yet there were not the slightest signs of the ice breaking up. several balloon flights were made, the aeronaut always making most careful calculations for days before starting, and generally succeeding in catching a favourable time. then the principal adventure of the whole cruise was undertaken--a great sledging journey towards the pole itself. the sledges, specially prepared for the purpose, were got out and carefully loaded with everything that would be found necessary. for a time the _arrandoon_ was to be left with but a few hands, or "ship-keepers," as they are called, on her. the great snowstorm of the previous winter mcbain judged, and rightly too, would be in favour of the expedition; it smoothed the roughness of the ice, and made sledging even pleasurable. de vere had two sledges, devoted to carrying his balloon and the means wherewith to inflate it. ted wilson was left in charge of the ship, with little ap, the cook, and carpenter's crew, to say nothing of little freezing powders and cockie. "if you do find the north pole," cried ted wilson, as a parting salutation to one of his companions, "do fair johnick, bill, fair johnick--bring us a bit." i have to tell of no terrible hardships or sufferings experienced by our heroes during this memorable sledge journey. they accomplished on an average about twelve miles a day, or seventy miles a week, and they invariably rested on the sabbath, merely taking exercise on that day to keep up the warmth of their bodies. they suffered but little from the cold, but it must be remembered that by this time they had become thoroughly inured to the rigours of the arctic regions. it was easy to keep warm trudging along over the snow, and helping to drag the sledge by day. the dogs they found were a great acquisition. under the wise and judicious management of trapper seth they were most tractable, and their strength seemed something marvellous. they were fat and sleek, and comfortable-looking, too, and had entirely lost the gaunt, hungry, wolfish appearance they presented when captain cobb first sent them on board. well did they work for, and richly did they deserve, the four spratts' biscuits given to each of them daily; that, followed by a mouthful of snow, was all they cared for and all they needed to make them the happiest of the happy. a short halt was made for luncheon every noon, and at six o'clock they stopped for the night, and dinner was cooked. this was seth's duty, and, considering the limited means at his command, he succeeded wonderfully. the tent was erected over a large pit in the snow, the sledges being drawn up to protect it against the prevailing wind. but of this there was but little. after dinner they gathered around a great spirit-lamp stove, wrapped in skins and blankets, and generally talked themselves to sleep. but seth always slept with the dogs. "i like to curl up," he explained, "with the animiles. they keeps me warm, they do; and, gentlemen, seth's bones ain't quite so young as they used to be." for weeks our heroes journeyed on towards the pole, but they came to the end of what mcbain called the snowfields at last, and all farther progress by sledge was practically at an end. before them stretched away to the utmost limits of the horizon the sea of ancient ice, a chaos of boulders, over which it would take a week at least to drag the sledges even a distance of ten miles, now came the balloon to the rescue, but who were to go in it? its car would, big as it was, contain but four. the four were finally selected; they were mcbain, the aeronaut himself, allan, and rory. upwards mounted the great balloon, upwards but sailing southwards; yet well had de vere counted his chances. ballast was thrown out, and they rose into the air with inconceivable rapidity, and mcbain soon perceived that the direction had now changed, and that the balloon was going rapidly northwards. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ to those left behind on the snowfields the time dragged on very slowly indeed, and when four-and-twenty hours had gone by, and still there was no sign of the return of the aeronauts, ralph's anxiety knew no bounds. he seemed to spend most of his time on the top of a large iceberg, gazing northwards and skywards in hopes of catching a glimpse of the balloon. but all in vain, and so passed six-and-thirty hours, and so passed forty-eight and fifty. something must have happened. grief began to weigh like lead on poor ralph's heart. a hundred times in an hour he reproached himself for not having gone in the balloon instead of rory. he was strong, rory was not, and if anything had happened to his more than brother, he felt he could never forget it and never forgive himself. despair was slowly taking the place of grief; he was walking up and down rapidly on the snow, for he could not rest,--he had taken neither food nor sleep since the balloon departed,--when there was a shout from the man on the outlook. "something black on the northern horizon, sir, but no signs of the balloon." "hurrah?" cried ralph. "now, men, to the rescue. let us go and meet them, and help them over this sea of boulders." in three hours more mcbain and party were back in camp, safe and sound, terribly tired, but able to tell all their story. "we've planted the dear old flag as far north as we could get," said mcbain, "and left it there." "ay," said rory, "and kissed and blessed it a hundred times over." "and but for the accident to the balloon, which we were obliged to abandon, we would have been back long ere now." "but we have not seen de open sea around de pole," said de vere. "no," said mcbain; "there is no such sea; that is all a myth; only the sea of ancient ice, and land, with tall, cone-shaped mountains on it, evidently the remains of extinct volcanoes. oh! it was a dreary, dreary scene. no signs of life, never a bird or bear, and a silence like the silence of death." "it was on one of those hills," added rory, "we planted the flag--`the flag that braved a thousand years the battle and the breeze.' it was a glorious moment, dear ralph, when we saw that bit of bunting unfurled. how allan and myself wished you'd been with us. it was so funny, too, because, you see, there was no north, no east, and no west; everything was south of us. the whole world lay down beneath us, as it were, all to the south'ard, and we could walk round the world, so to speak, a dozen times in a minute." "yes, it is curious," replied ralph, musing in silence for a moment. then he stretched out his hand and grasped rory's. he did not speak. there was no need, rory knew well what he meant. "now, boys and men," cried the captain, "we have to return thanks to him who has safely guided us through all perils into these distant regions, and pray that he may permit us to return in safety to our native land. let us pray." a more heartfelt prayer than that of those hardy sailors probably never ascended on high. afterwards a psalm was sung, to a beautiful old melody, and this closed the service; but next morning, ere they started to return to the _arrandoon_, another spar was erected on the top of the biggest and highest iceberg. on this the english colours were _nailed_, and around it the crew assembled, and cheer after cheer rent the air, and, as sandy mcflail afterwards observed, hats and bonnets were pitched on high, till they positively darkened the air, like a flock o' craws. then "give us a good bass and tenor, boys," cried rory, and he burst into the grand old national anthem,-- "god save our gracious queen, long may victoria reign, god save the queen." chapter thirty three. another winter at the pole--christmas day--the curtain rises on the last act--sickness--death--despair. the summer was far advanced before captain mcbain and his crew returned to where their vessel lay off the island of alba. they had fully expected to see some signs of the ice breaking up, so as to allow them to get clear and bear up for home, but the chance of this taking place seemed as far off as ever. if the truth must be told, the captain had counted upon a break-up of the sea of ice shortly after midsummer at the very latest. but midsummer went past, the sun each midnight began to decline nearer and nearer to the northern horizon, and it already seemed sadly probable that another winter would have to be passed in these desolate regions. mcbain could not help recalling the words of old magnus, "open seasons do not come oftener than once in ten years." if this indeed were true, then he, his boys and his crew, were doomed to sufferings more terrible than tongue could tell or pen relate-- sufferings from which there could be no escape save through the jaws of death. provisions would hardly last throughout another winter, and until the ice broke up and they were again free, there could be no chance of getting those that had been stored on the northernmost isle of spitzbergen. the sky remained clear and hard, and mcbain soon began to think he would give all he possessed in life for the sight of one little cloud not bigger than a man's hand. but that cloud never came, and the sun commenced to set and the summer waned away. the captain kept his sorrow very much to himself; at all events he tried to talk cheerfully and hopefully when in the company of any of our young heroes; but they could mark a change, and well they knew the cause. the ice-hole was opened, but, strange to say, although they captured sharks and other great fish innumerable, neither seal nor walrus ever showed head above the water. bears were pretty numerous on the ice, and now mcbain gave orders to preserve not only the skins but even the flesh of those monsters. it was cut in pieces and buried in the ice and snow, well up the braeland near to the mouth of the cave, in which they had found shelter during all the dark months of the former winter. the fact that no seals appeared at the ice-hole proved beyond a doubt that the open water was very far indeed to the southward of them. how they had rejoiced to see the sun rise for the first time in the previous spring; how their hearts sank now to see him set! "boys," said mcbain one day, after he had remained silent for some time, as if in deep thought--"boys, i fear we won't get out of this place for many months to come. how do you like the prospect?" he smiled as he spoke; but they could see the smile was a simulated one. "never mind," said ralph and allan; "we'll keep our hearts up, never fear; don't you be unhappy on our account." "i'll try not to be," said mcbain, "and i'm sure i shall not be so on my own." "besides, captain dear," added rory, "it's sure to come right in the end." mcbain laid his hand on boy rory's head, and smiled somewhat sadly. "you're always hopeful, rory," he said. "we must pray that your words may come true." and, indeed, besides waiting with a hopeful trust in that all-seeing providence who had never yet deserted them in their direst need, there was little now to be done. as the days got shorter and shorter, and escape from another winter's imprisonment seemed impossible, the crew of the _arrandoon_ was set to work overhauling stores. it was found that with strict economy the provisions would last until spring, but, with the addition of the flesh of sharks and bears, for a month or two longer. it was determined, therefore, that the men should not be put upon short allowance, for semi-starvation--mcbain was doctor enough to know--only opened the door for disease to step in, in the shape perhaps of that scourge called scurvy, or even the black death itself. when the sun at last sank to rise no more for three long months, so far from letting down their hearts, or losing hope, the officers and crew of our gallant ship once more settled down to their "old winter ways," as seth called them. they betook themselves to the cave in the hillside, which, for sake of giving the men exercise, mcbain had made double the size, the mould taken therefrom and the rocks being used to erect a terrace near the entrance. this was surrounded by a balustrade or bulwark, with a flagstaff erected at one end, and on this was unfurled the union jack. watches were kept, and meals cooked and served, with as much regularity as if they had been at sea, while the evenings were devoted to reading, music, and story-telling round the many great fires that were lighted to keep the cave warm. where, it may be asked, did the fuel come from? certainly not from the ship. the coals were most carefully stored, and retained for future service; but tons on tons of great pine-logs were dug from the hill-sides. and glorious fires they made, too. it was, as rory said, raking up the ashes of a long-past age to find fuel for a new one. once more the electric light was got under way, and twice a week at least the diving-bell was sunk. this was a source of amusement that never failed to give pleasure; but so intense was the frost at times that it was a matter of no small difficulty to break the ice on the water. the captain was untiring in his efforts to keep his men employed, and in as happy a frame of mind as circumstances would admit of. there was no snowstorm this winter, and very seldom any wind; the sky was nearly always clear, and the stars and aurora brighter than ever they had seen them. christmas--the second they had spent together since leaving the clyde-- passed pleasantly enough, though there was no boisterous merriment. songs and story-telling were in far greater request than dancing. never, perhaps, was rory in better spirits for solo-playing. he appeared to know intuitively the class of music the listeners would delight in, and his rendering of some of the old scottish airs seemed simply to hold them spell-bound. as the wild, weird, plaintive notes of the violin, touched by the master fingers of the young poet, fell on their ears, they were no longer ice-bound in the dreary regions of the pole. it was no longer winter; it was no longer night. they were home once more in their native land; home in dear auld scotland. the sun was shining brightly in the summer sky, the purple of the heather was on the moorland, the glens and valleys were green, and the music of merle and mavis, mingling with the soft croodle of the amorous cushat, resounded from the groves. no wonder that a few sighs were heard when rory ceased to play; he had touched a chord in their inmost hearts, and for the time being had rendered them inexpressibly happy. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ it is well to let the curtain fall here for a short time; it rises again on the first scene of the last act of this arctic drama of ours. three months have elapsed since that christmas evening in the cave when we beheld the crew of the _arrandoon_ listening with happy, hopeful, upturned faces to the sweet music that rory discoursed from his darling instrument. only three months, but what a change has come over the prospects of sill on board that seemingly doomed ship! often and often had our heroes been face to face with death in storms and tempests at sea, in fighting with wild beasts, and even with wild men, but never before had they met the grim king of terrors in the form he now assumed. for several weeks the men had been falling ill, and dying one by one, and already no less than nine graves had been dug and filled under the snow on the mountain's side. the disease, whatever it was, resisted all kinds of treatment, and, indeed, though the symptoms in every case were similar at the commencement, no two men died in precisely the same way. at first there was an intense longing for home; this would be succeeded in a few days by loss of all appetite, by distaste for food or exertion of any kind, and by fits of extreme melancholy and depression. the doctor did his best. alas! there are diseases against which all the might of medical skill is unavailing. brandy and other stimulants were tried; but these only kept the deadly ailment at bay for a very short time; it returned with double force, and poor sufferers were doubly prostrated in consequence. there was no bodily pain, except from a strange hollow cough that in all cases accompanied the complaint, but there was rapid emaciation, hot, burning brow, and hands and feet that scorched like fire, and while some fell into a kind of gentle slumber from which they awoke no more in this world, others died from sheer debility, the mind being clear to the last--nay, even brighter as they neared the bourne from which no traveller ever returns. as the time went on--the days were now getting long again, for spring had returned--matters got even worse. it was strange, too, that the very best and brightest of the crew were the first to be attacked and to die. i do not think there was a dry eye in the ship when the little procession wound its way round the hillside bearing in its unpretending coffin the mortal remains of poor ted wilson. all this long cruise he had been the life and soul of the whole crew. no wonder that the words of the beautiful old song _tom bowling_ rose to the mind of more than one of the crew of the _arrandoon_ when ted was laid to rest: "his form was of the manliest beauty, his heart was warm and soft, faithful below he did his duty, and now he's gone aloft." just one week after the burial of ted wilson, de vere, the french aeronaut, was attacked, and in three days' time he was dead. he had never been really well since the journey to the vicinity of the pole, and the loss of his great balloon was one which he never seemed to be able to get over. he was quite an enthusiast in his profession, and, as he remarked to mcbain one day, "i have mooch grief for de loss of my balloon. i had give myself over to de thoughts of mooch pleasant voyaging away up in de regions of de upper air. i s'all soar not again until i reach england." it was sad to hear him, as he lay half delirious on the bed of his last illness, muttering, muttering to himself and constantly talking about the home far away in sunny france that he would never see again. either the doctor or one or other of our young heroes was constantly in the cabin with him. about an hour before his demise he sent for ralph. "i vould not," he said, "send for rory nor for allan, dey vill both follow me soon. oh i do not you look sad, ralph, dere is nothing but joy vere ve are going. nothing but joy, and sunshine, and happiness." he took a locket from his breast. it contained the portrait of a grey-haired mother. "bury dis locket in my grave," he said. he took two rings from off his thin white fingers. "for my sister and my mother," he said. he never spoke again, but died with those dear names on his lips. ralph showed himself a very hero in these sad times of trouble and death. he was here, there, and everywhere, by night and by day; assisting the surgeon and helping seth to attend upon the wants of the sick and dying; and many a pillow he soothed, and many a word of comfort he gave to those who needed it. the true saxon character was now beautifully exemplified in our english hero. he possessed that noble courage which never makes itself uselessly obtrusive, which fritters not itself away on trifles, and which seems at most times to lie dormant or latent, but is ever ready to show forth and burn most brightly in the hour of direst need. sorrows seldom come singly, and one day stevenson, in making his usual morning report, had the sad tidings to add that cask after cask of provisions had been opened and found bad, utterly useless for human food. mcbain got up from his chair and accompanied the mate on deck. "i would not," he said, "express, in words what i feel, mr stevenson, before our boys; but this, indeed, is terrible tidings." "it can only hasten the end," said stevenson. "you think, then, that that end is inevitable?" "inevitable," said stevenson, solemnly but emphatically. "we are doomed to perish here among this ice. there can be no rescue for us but through the grave." "we are in the hands of a merciful and an all-powerful providence, mr stevenson," said mcbain; "we must trust, and wait, and hope, and do our duty." "that we will, sir, at all events," said the mate; "but see, sir, what is that yonder?" he pointed, as he spoke, skywards, and there, just a little way above the highest mountain-tops, was a cloud. it kept increasing almost momentarily, and got darker and darker. both watched it until the sun itself was overcast, then the mate ran below to look at the glass. it was "tumbling" down. for three days a gale and storm, accompanied with soft, half-wet snow, raged. then terrible noises and reports were heard all over the pack of ice seaward, and the grinding and din that never fails to announce the break-up of the sea of ice. "heaven has not forgotten us," cried mcbain, hopefully; "this change will assuredly check the sickness, and perhaps in a week's time we will be sailing southwards through the blue, open sea, bound for our native shores." mcbain was right; the hopes raised in the hearts of the men did check the progress of the sickness. when at last the wind fell, they were glad to see that the clouds still remained, and that there were no signs of the frost coming on again. the pieces of ice, too, were loose, and all hands were set to work to warp the ship southwards through the bergs. the work was hard, and the progress made scarcely a mile a day at first. but they were men working for their lives, with new-born hope in their hearts, so they heeded not the fatigue, and after a fortnight's toil they found the water so much more open that by going ahead at full speed in every clear space, a fair day's distance was got over. for a week more they strove and struggled onwards; the men, however, were getting weaker and weaker for want of sufficient food. how great was their joy, then, when one morning the island was sighted on which mcbain had left the store of provisions! boats were sent away as soon as they came within a mile of the place. sad, indeed, was the news with which stevenson, who was in charge, returned. the bears had made an attack on the buried stores. they had clawed the great cask open, and had devoured or destroyed everything. hope itself now seemed for a time to fly from all on board. with a crew weak from want, and with fearful ice to work their way through, what chance was there that they would ever succeed in reaching the open water, or in proceeding on their homeward voyage even as far as the island of jan mayen, or until they should fall in with and obtain relief from some friendly ship? they were far to the northward of the sealing grounds, and just as far to the east. mcbain, however, determined still to do his utmost, and, though on short allowance, to try to forge ahead. for one week more they toiled and struggled onwards, then came the frost again and all chance of proceeding was at an end. it was no wonder that sickness returned. no wonder that mcbain himself, and allan and rory, began to feel dejected, listless, weary, and ill. then came a day when the doctor and ralph sat down alone to eat their meagre and hurried breakfast. "what prospects?" said ralph. "moribund!" was all the doctor said just then. presently he added-- "there, in the corner, lies poor wee freezing powders, and, my dear ralph, one hour will see it all over with him. the captain and allan and rory can hardly last much longer." "god help us, then," said ralph, wringing his hands, and giving way to a momentary anguish. the unhappy negro boy was stretched, to all appearance lifeless, close by the side of his favourite's cage. despite his own grief, ralph could not help feeling for that poor bird. his distress was painful to witness. if his great round eyes could have run over with tears, i am sure they would have done so. i have said before that cockie was not a pretty bird, but somehow his very ugliness made ralph pity him now all the more. nor was the grief of the bird any the less sad to see because it was exhibited in a kind of half ludicrous way. he was not a moment at rest, but he seemed really not to know what he was doing, and his anxious eye was hardly ever withdrawn from the face of the dying boy:--jumping up and down from his perch to his seed-tin and back again, grabbing great mouthfuls of hemp, which he never even broke or tried to swallow, and blowing great sighs over his thick blue tongue. and the occasional sentence, too, the bird every now and then began but never finished,-- "here's a--" "did you--" "come--" all spoke of the anguish in poor cockie's breast. a faint moaning was heard in the adjoining cabin, and ralph hurried away from the table, and sandy was left alone. chapter thirty four. a sailor's cottage--the telegram--"something's in the wind"--the good yacht "polar star"--hope for the wanderers. a cottage on a cliff. a cliff whose black, beetling sides rose sheer up out of the water three hundred feet and over; a cliff around which sea-birds whirled in dizzy flight; a cliff in which the cormorant had her home; a cliff against which all the might of the german ocean had dashed and chafed and foamed for ages. some fifty yards back from the edge of this cliff the cottage was built, of hard blue granite, with sturdy bay windows--a cottage that seemed as independent of any storm that could blow as the cliff itself was. in front was a neat wee garden, with nicely gravelled walks and edging of box, and all round it a natty railing painted an emerald green. at the back of the cottage were more gravelled walks and more flower garden, with a summer-house and a smooth lawn, from the centre of which rose a tall ship's mast by way of flagstaff, with ratlines and rigging and stays and top complete. not far off was a pigeon-house on a pole, and not far from that still another pole surmounted by a weather-vane, and two little wooden blue-jackets, that whenever the wind blew, went whirling round and round, clashing swords and engaging in a kind of fanatic duel, which seemed terribly real and terribly deadly for the time being. it was a morning in early spring, and up and down the walk behind the cottage stepped a sturdy, weather-beaten old sailor, with hair and beard of iron-grey, and a face as red as the newest brick that ever was fashioned. he stood for a moment gazing upwards at the strutting fantails. "curr-a-coo--curr-a-coo," said the pigeons. "curr-a-coo--curr-a-coo," replied the sailor. "i dare say you're very happy, and i'm sure you think the sun was made for you and you only. ah! my bonnie birdies, you don't know what the world is doing. you don't--hullo?" "yes, my dear, you may say hullo," said a cheerful little woman, with a bright, pleasant face, walking up to him, and placing an arm in his. "didn't you hear me tapping on the pane for you?" "not i, little wife, not i," said silas grig. "i've been thinking, lass, thinking--" "well, then," interrupted his wife, "don't you think any more; you've made your hair all white with thinking. just come in and have breakfast. that haddock smells delicious, and i've made some nice toast, and tried the new tea. come, silas, come." away went the two together, he with his arm around her waist, looking as happy, the pair of them, as though their united ages didn't make a deal over a hundred. "come next month," said silas, as soon as he had finished his first cup of tea--"come next month, little wife, it will just be two years since i first met the _arrandoon_. heigho?" "you needn't sigh, silas," his wife remarked. "they may return. wonders never cease." "return?" repeated silas, with a broken-hearted kind of a laugh, "nay, nay, nay, we'll meet them no more in this world. poor rory! he was my favourite. dear boy, i think i see him yet, with his fair, laughing face, and that rogue of an eye of his." rat-tat. silas started. "the postman?" he said; "no, it can't be. that's right, little woman, run to the door and see. what! a telegram for me!" silas took the missive, and turned it over and over in his hand half a dozen times at least. "why, my dear, who _can_ it be from?" he asked with a puzzled look, "and what _can_ it be about? _can_ you guess, little wife? eh? can you?" "if i were you, silas," said his wife, quietly, "i'd open it and see." "dear me! to be sure," cried silas. "i didn't think of that. why, i declare," he continued, as soon as he had read it, "it is from arrandoon castle, and the poor widow, allan's mother, wants to see me at once. i'm off, little woman, at once. get out my best things. the blue pilots, you know. quick, little woman--quick! bear a hand! hurrah!" silas grig didn't finish that second cup of tea. he was dressed in less than ten minutes, had kissed his wife, and was hurrying away to the station. indeed, silas had never in his life felt in such a hurry before. "it'll be like my luck," he muttered, "if i miss this train." but he did not miss it, and it was a fast one, too, a flying train, that every day went tearing along through scotland, and was warranted to land him at inverness six hours after he first stepped on board. no sooner was silas seated than he pulled out the telegram again, and read it over and over at least a dozen times. then he looked at the back of it, as if it were just possible that some further information might be found there. then he read the address, and as he could not get anything more out of it he folded it up and replaced it in his pocket, merely remarking, "i'll vow something's in the wind." silas had bought a newspaper. he had meant to read; he tried to read as hard as ever he had tried to do anything, but it was all in vain. his mind was in too great a ferment, so he threw down the paper and devoted himself to gazing out of the window at the glorious panorama that was passing before him; but if anybody else had been in the same compartment, he or she would have heard this ancient mariner frequently muttering to himself, and the burden of all his remarks was, "something's in the wind, i'm sure of that!" a fast train? a flying train? yes, a deal too much so, many would have thought, but she could not fly a bit too fast for silas. yet how she did rattle and rush and roar along the lines, to be sure! the din she made only deepening for a moment as she dived under a bridge or brushed past a wayside station, too insignificant by far to waste a thought upon! now she passes a country village, with rows of trim-built cottages and tidy gardens, with lines for clothes to dry, and fences where children hang or perch and wave their caps at the flying train. now she shaves past rows of platelayers, who stand at attention or extend their grimy arms like signal yards, while a blue-coated jack-in-a-box waves a white flag from his window to show that all is safe. now she ploughs through some larger junction, over a whole field of rails that seems to run in every conceivable direction; but she makes her way in safety in a whirl of dust, and next she shrieks as she plunges into the darkness of a long, dreary tunnel. ah! but she is out again into the glare of the day, and again the telegraph posts go popping past as fast as one could wink. five miles now on a stretch of level country as straight as crow could fly, through fields and woods and past thriving farms, with far beyond on the horizon hills, hills, hills. 'tis spring-time, spring changing into summer, summer coming six good weeks before its time. look, silas, look! crimson flowers are already peeping red through the greenery of cornfields, drowsy-looking cows are wading knee-deep in grass and buttercups, the braelands are snowed over with the gowan's bloom. birds are singing in meadow and copse, the yellow furze is blossoming on heathy moorlands. great black spruces raise their tall heads skywards, and their every branch is tipped with a tassel of tender green; rowan-trees seem studded with roses of a pearly hue, and the feathery larches are hung round with a fringe-work of darkest crimson. is it not glorious, silas? is it not all beautiful? did ever you see a sky more blue before, or cloudlets more fleecy and light? "i'll stake my word," replies silas, "that something's in the wind." wilder scenery now, dark, frowning mountains, lonely glens, heathlands, highlands, canons, and tarns, then a long and fertile flat, every sod of which marks a scottish warrior's grave. inverness at last! "boat gone, is it?" cried silas. "like my luck. but why didn't she wait for the train? tell me that, eh?" "yes, sir; dare say i could, sir." this from an ostler in answer to another query of friend silas. "five-and-twenty mile, sir. i've just the horse that'll suit. three hours to a tick, sir, rough though the road is, sir. i'll be ready in twenty minutes. thank'ee, sir, much obliged. now then, donald, bustle about, will you? get out the bay mare. look sharp, gentleman's only got five minutes to feed." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "it can't be captain grig already," said mrs mcgregor. "and yet who else can it be?" said helen edith. "i'll run out and see," said ralph's father, who had been spending some weeks at the castle. "ha! welcome, honest silas grig," he cried, rushing up and literally receiving silas with open arms as he jumped from the high-wheeled dogcart. "a thousand welcomes. well, i do declare you haven't let the grass grow under your feet. how your horse steams! take him round, driver, and see to his comfort, then go to the kitchen and see to your own. old janet is there. now, silas," continued mr leigh, "before you go to talk to the ladies, i'll tell you what we have arranged. we have thought well over all you said when you were here in the autumn, and i've chartered a german arctic cruiser, and we're going to put you in command. she is lying at peterhead, everything ready, crew and all, stores and all. our prayers will follow you, dear captain grig, and if you find our poor boys, or even bring us tidings of their fate, we will be ever grateful. nay, nay, but `grateful' poorly expresses my meaning. we will--" "not another word," cried silas, "not one single word more, sir, or as sure as my name is silas grig i'll clap my fingers in my ears." he shook mr leigh's hand as he spoke. "i'll find the boys if they be alive," he said. "i knew, sir, when i got the telegram there was something in the wind. i told my little wife i was quite sure of it. ha! ha! ha!" silas was laughing, but it was only to hide the tears with which his eyes were swimming. "when can you start, my dear silas?" "to-night. at once. give me a fresh horse and five minutes for a mouthful of refreshment, and off i start; and i'll take command to-morrow before the sun is over the foreyard." "to-night?" cried mr leigh, smiling. "no, no, no." "but i say `yo, yo, yo,'" said silas, "and `yo heave, o,' and what silas says he means. there! ah, ladies, how are you? nay, never cry, miss mcgregor. i'm going straight away to the arctic sea, and i'm sure to bring your brother back, and rory as well, to say nothing of honest ralph and peter the piper. so cheer ye up, my little lass, if silas grig doesn't come back in company with the bonnie _arrandoon_, may he never chew cheese again!" there was no getting over the impetuosity of this honest old sailor, but there was withal a freshness and happiness about him, which made every one he talked with feel as hopeful as he was himself. before dinner was done both mrs mcgregor and her lovely daughter were smiling and laughing as they had not smiled or laughed for months before, and when silas asked for a song, the latter went quite joyfully to the harp. you see it appeared quite a foregone conclusion with everybody that night, that silas would find the lost explorers and bring them safely home. the moon rose in all its majesty as nine tolled forth from the clock-tower of the ancient castle. then silas said "good-bye," and, followed by many a blessing and many a prayer, the dogcart wound away up through the solemn pine forest, and was soon lost to view. he was just as good as his word. he took command of his new ship--a splendid sea-going yacht--before noon next day. almost immediately afterwards he summoned both officers and men and mustered them all aft, and somewhat startled them by the following curt speech: "gentlemen and men of the _polar star_, we'll sail to-morrow morning. we touch nowhere until we enter harbour here again. any one that isn't ready to go can step on shore and stop there. all ready, eh? bravo, men! you'll find your skipper isn't a bad fellow to deal with, but he means to crack on! no ship that ever sailed 'twixt pekin and london, no clipper that ever left aberdeen, or yacht from new york city, ever did such cracking on as i mean to do. go to your duty. pipe down." then silas grig inspected the ship. he was pleased with her get-up and her rig-out, only he ordered extra spars and extra sails, and these were all on board ere sundown. "the old man means business," said the first mate to the second. "that he does!" replied the inferior officer. the _polar star_ sailed away from peterhead on the very day that poor ted wilson was laid in his grave beneath the eternal snows of alba. could silas have seen the desperate position of the _arrandoon_ just then, how little hopes he would have entertained of ever reaching her in time to save the precious lives on board! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the doctor was left alone in the saloon of the great ship. the silence that reigned both fore and aft was oppressive even to dismalness. for a moment or two sandy buried his face in his hands, and tears welled through his fingers. "oh," he whispered, "it is terrible! the silence of death is all about us! our men dying forward, our captain doomed, and allan and rory. ay, and poor ralph will be next; i can see that in his face. not one of us can ever reach his native land again! i envy-- yes, i envy the dead in their quiet graves, and even wish it were all past--all, all over?" "doctor!" a kindly hand was laid on his shoulder. sandy started to his feet, he cared not who saw his face, wet though it was with tears. "doctor, don't you take on so," said stevenson. "speak, man i speak quick! there is hope in your face!" cried the doctor. "there is hope in my heart, too," said the mate--"only a glint, only a gleam; but it is there. the frost is gone; the ice is open again." "then quick," cried the surgeon, "get up steam! that alone can save the dying. energy, energy, and something to do. _i_ can do nothing more to save my patients while this hopeless silence lies pall-like around us. break it, dear mate, with the roar of steam and the rattle of the engine's screw!" "listen," said the mate. "there goes the steam. our chief has not been long." round went the screw once more, and away moved the ship. poor mcbain came staggering from his cabin. ghastly pale he looked. he had the appearance of one risen from the grave. he clutched sandy by the shoulder. "we are--under--way?" he gasped. "yes, yes," said the surgeon. "homeward bound, captain." "homeward bound," muttered the captain, pressing his hand on his brow, as if to recall his memory, which for a time had been unseated from her throne. for a minute or two the surgeon feared for his captain's life or reason. "drink this, dear sir," he said; "be seated, too, you are not over well, and there is much to be done." "much to be done?" cried mcbain, as soon as he had quaffed the medicine. "i'm better. thank you, good doctor; thank you, sandy. there is much to be done. those words have saved your captain's life." sandy gave a big sigh of relief and hastened away to rory's cabin. rory had been lying like a dead thing for hours, but now a new light seemed to come into his eye. he extended his hand to sandy and smiled. "we are positively under steam again, sandy?" he said. sandy, like a wise surgeon, did not tell him the frost was quite gone. joy kills, and sandy knew it. "yes," he said, carelessly, "we'll get down south a few miles farther, i dare say. it is nice, though, isn't it, to hear the old screw rattling round again?" "why, it is music, it is life?" said rory. "sandy, i'm going to be well again soon. i know and feel i am." then ralph burst into the cabin. "i say, sandy," he said, "run and see dear old allan; he says he is going to get up, and i know he is far, far too weak." sandy had to pass through the saloon. freezing powders was sitting bolt upright in the corner, and cockie was apparently mad with joy. the bird couldn't speak fast enough, and he seemed bent on choking himself with hemp. "peter, peter, peter, peter," he was saying, "here's a pretty, pretty, pretty to-do. call the steward, call the steward. come on, come on, come on." "oh, cockie," freezing powders said, "i'se drefful, drefful cold, cockie. 'spects i'se gwine to die, cockie. 'spects i is--oh! de-ah, what my ole mudder say den?" "come, come," cried sandy, "take this, you young sprout, and don't let me catch you talking about dying. there now, pull yourself together." "i'll try," said the poor boy, "but i 'spects i'se as pale as deaf (death)." chapter thirty five. the rescue--homeward bound--all's well that ends well. i never have been able to learn with a sufficient degree of exactitude whether it was the _polar star_ that first sighted the _arrandoon_, or whether the _arrandoon_ was the first to catch a glimpse of the _polar star_. and with such conflicting evidence before me, i do not see very well how i could. what evidence have i before me, do you ask? why the logs of the two ships, written by their two captains respectively. i give below a portion of two extracts, both relating to the joyful event. extract first from the log of the good yacht _polar star_:--"june st, --. at seven bells in the forenoon watch--ice heavy and wind about a south-south-west--caught sight of the _arrandoon's_ topmasts bearing about a north and by east. praise god for all his goodness." extract second, from the log of the _arrandoon_:--"june st, --. seven bells in the forenoon watch--a hail from the crow's-nest, `a schooner among the ice to the south'ard and west of us, can just raise her topmasts, think she is bearing this way.' heaven be praised, we are saved." yes, dear reader, the _arrandoon_ was saved. the news that a vessel was in sight spread through the ship like wildfire; those that were hale and well rushed on deck, the sick tottered up, and all was bustle and excitement, and the cheer that arose from stem to stern reminded mcbain of the good old times, a year ago, when every man jack of his crew was alive and well. it had been a very narrow escape for them, for, although not far from the open water where the _polar star_ lay with foreyard aback, they were unable to reach it, being once more frozen in, and had not good silas appeared at the time he did, probably in a few weeks at most there would not have been a single human being living on board the lordly _arrandoon_. no sooner had silas satisfied himself with his own eyes that it was the _arrandoon_ that lay ice-bound to the nor'ard of him, than he called away the boats and gave orders to load them with the best of everything, and to follow his whaler. his whaler took the ice just as eight bells were struck on the _polar star_, and next moment, guided by the fan in the crow's-nest of the yacht, he was hastening over the rough ice towards the _arrandoon_. mcbain and his boys, and the doctor as well, were all on deck, when who should heave round the corner of an iceberg but captain silas grig himself, looking as rosy and ten times more happy than they had last seen him. he was still about fifty yards away, and for a moment or two he stood undecided; it seemed, indeed, that he wished not to walk but to jump or fly the remaining fifty intervening yards. then he took off his cap, and--scotch fashion--tossed it as high into the air as he possibly could. "_arrandoon_, ahoy!" he shouted. "_arrandoon_, ahoy! hurrah!" there was not a soul on board that did not run aft to meet silas as he sprang up the side. even freezing powders, with cockie on his shoulder, came wondering up, and peter must needs get out his bagpipes and strike into _the campbells are coming_. and when silas found himself once more among his boys, and shaking hands with them all round; when he noticed the pale faces of allan and rory, and the pinched visage of the once strong and powerful mcbain, and read in their weak and tottering gait the tale of all their sufferings, then it must be confessed that the bluff old mariner had to turn hastily about and address himself to others in order to hide a tear. "indeed, gentlemen all," said silas, many, many months after this, "when i saw you all looking so peaky and pale, as i first jumped down on to your quarter-deck, i never felt so near making an old ass o' myself in all my born days!" for three weeks longer the _arrandoon_ lay among the ice before she got fairly clear, and, consorted by the _polar star_, bore up for home. three weeks--but they were not badly spent--three weeks, and all that time was needed to restore our invalids to robust health. and that only shows how near to death's door they must have been, because to make them well they had the best medicine this world can supply, and silas grig was the physician. "silas grig! silas grig!" cried rory, one morning at breakfast, about a fortnight after the reunion, "sure you're the best doctor that ever stepped in shoe-leather! no wonder we are all getting fat and rosy again! first you gave us a dose of hope--we got that before you jumped on board; then you gave us joy--a shake of your own honest hand, the sound of your own honest voice, and letters from home. what care i that my tenantry--`the foinest pisintry in the world'--haven't paid up? i've had letters from arrandoon. what, ray boy! more salmon and another egg? just look at the effects of your physic, dr silas grig!" silas laughed. "but," he said, "there is one thing you haven't mentioned." "tell us," said rory: "troth, it's a treat to hear ye talking?" "the drop o' green ginger," said silas. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ nor were these three weeks spent in idleness, for during that time the whole ship, from stem to stern, was redecorated; and when at last she was once more clear of the ice, once more out in the blue, she looked as bran new and as span new as on the day when she steamed down the wide, romantic clyde. i do not know any greater pleasure in life than that of being homeward bound after a long, long cruise at sea,-- "good news from home, good news for me, has come across the deep blue sea." so runs the song. good news from home is certainly one of the rover's joys, but how much more joyous it is to be "rolling home, rolling home" to get that good news, eye to eye and lip to lip! once fairly under way, the weather seemed to get warmer every day. they reached jan mayen in a week; they found the rude village deserted, and captain cobb they would never be likely to meet again. so they left the island, and on the wings of a favouring breeze bore away for iceland. here sandy mcflail, doctor of medicine of the university of aberdeen, and surgeon of the good ship _arrandoon_, begged to be left. ah! poor sandy was sadly in love with that blue-eyed, fair-haired danish maiden. he fairly confessed to rory, who had previously promised not to laugh at him, "that he had never seen a scotch lassie to equal her, and that if she weren't a `doctor's leddy' before six months were over it would not be his, sandy mcflail's, fault." "you are quite right, sandy," said rory in reply--"quite right; and do you know what it will be, sandy?" "what?" asked sandy. "a vera judeecious arrangement," cried rory, running off before sandy had a chance of catching him by the ear and making him "whustle." but right fervent were the wishes for the doctor's welfare when he bade his friends adieu. and,-- "you'll be sure to send us a piece o' the bride-cake," said ralph. "i'm no vera sure," said sandy, "if it will ever come the length o' bride-cake. but," he added, bravely, "a body can only just try." "bravo!" cried allan; "whatever a true man honestly dares he can do." "and it's sure to come right in the end," said rory. so away went sandy's boat, and away went the _arrandoon_, firing the farewell guns, and as gaily bedecked in flags as if it had been sandy's wedding morning. the _arrandoon_ sailed nearly all the way home, for a favouring breeze was blowing, and with stunsails set, low and aloft, she looked like some gigantic sea-bird; and bravely, too, the little _polar star_ kept her in sight. as for silas, he did not live on board his own ship at all, but on board the _arrandoon_. there was so much to be said and to say that they could not spare him. the inhabitants of glentruim turned out _en masse_ to welcome the wanderers home. it was a day long to be remembered in that part of the highlands of scotland. the young chief, allan mcgregor, was not allowed to walk across one inch of his own grounds towards his castle of arrandoon--no, nor to ride nor to drive; he must even be carried shoulder high, while slogans rent the air, and blue bonnets darkened it, and claymores were drawn and waved aloft, and the dogs all went daft, and danced about, barking at everybody, plainly showing that they had taken leave of their senses for one day, and weren't a bit ashamed of having done so. behind the procession marched freezing powders, with cockie on his shoulder. the poor bird did not know what to make of all this highland din, all this wild rejoicing. but he evidently enjoyed it. "keep it up, keep it up, keep it up?" he cried; "here's a pretty, pretty, pretty to-do! go on, go on! come on, come on--ha! ha! ha! ha! lal de dal de dal lei al!" and off went cockie into the maddest dance that ever legs of bird performed. and freezing powders got frightened at last, and tried to lecture the bird into a quieter state of mind. "i 'ssure you, cockie," said freezing powders, "you is overdoin' it. try to 'llay your feelin's, cockie--try to 'llay your feelin's. as sure as nuffin' at all, cockie, you'll have a drefful headache in de mornin'." but cockie only bowed and becked and danced and laughed the more, till at last freezing powders, looking upon the case as one of desperation, extracted from his pocket a red cotton handkerchief--the same he carried cockie in when captain mcbain first met him on the broomielaw--and in this he rolled cockie as in the days of yore; but even then all the way to the castle cockie was constantly finding corners to pop his head through, and let every one within hearing know that, though captured, he was as far from being subdued as ever. poor old janet was beside herself with joy. she had been preparing pastry and getting ready puddings for days and days. she was fain to wipe her eyes with very joy when she shook hands once more with ralph and allan, and her old favourite, rory. she was a little subdued when she looked at old seth; she was just a trifle afraid of him, i believe. but she soon became herself again, and finished off by catching up freezing powders, cockie and all, and bearing them off in triumph to the cosiest corner of the kitchen. that same night fires were lit on every hill around glentruim, and the reflection of them was seen southwards over all the wilds of badenoch, and northward to the borders of ross. a few weeks after the return home rory paid his promised visit to silas at his little cottage by the sea, his cottage on the cliff-tops. silas's flag fluttered right gaily in the wind that day, the summer flowers were all in bloom in the garden, and the green paling looked brighter, probably, than ever it had done, for the sun shone as it seldom shines--shone as if it had been paid to shine for the occasion, and the clouds lay low on the horizon, as if they had been paid to keep out of the way for once. the flag fluttered gaily, and the two little blue-jackets on the top of the pole ever and anon made such terrible onslaughts upon each other, that the only wonder was there was a bit of them left, that they did not demolish each other entirely, like the traditional cats of kilkenny. silas had gone to the station to meet rory. silas was dressed, as he thought, like a landsman. silas really thought that nobody could tell he was a sailor, because he wore a blue frock-coat and a tall beaver hat. and silas's little wife was all bustle and nervousness; but rory had not been in the house half an hour ere all this was gone, and she was quietly happy, with a kind of feeling at her heart that she had known rory all his life, and had even nursed him when he was quite a little mite. day and dinner and all passed off right cheerily, and of course with dessert silas nodded to his little wife, and his little wife opened a bottle of fresh green ginger, and produced the bun--the wonderful bun, which was a pudding one day and a cake the next. silas kept smirking and nodding so long at rory over his first drop of green ginger, that rory knew he was going to say something, and so, by way of encouragement,-- "out with it, silas," says rory. "only this," says silas: "success to the wooing." well, who else in all the wide world could rory have taken advice from except from silas, in one little matter that deeply concerned his future welfare? "go in and win," had been silas's advice. "go in and win, like the man you are. faint heart never gained fair lady." it is pleasant for me to be able to state that rory took his old friend's advice to the letter. now we know that the course of true love never did run smooth, and the course of rory's wooing proved no exception to the proverb, but everything came right in the end, as rory himself was fond of observing, and all is well that ends well. just one year after this visit to silas, rory led helen edith mcgregor to the altar. what a beautiful bride she made--more modest and bonnie than the rose just newly blown, or gowans tipped with dew! rory and allan were not greater friends after the wedding than they had been before--that were impossible; but they were now brothers, and allan made a vow that rory should make his home in glentruim. there is a mansion there now as well as a castle, and in it dwell rory and his wife. years have passed since the days of which i have been writing; they have not made very much change in our irish hero. he is still the painter, still the poet, only there is not one only, but two little listeners now, that gaze up round-eyed and wonderingly at their father, whenever he takes up his magical instrument, the violin! old ap teaches these little ones to cut boats out of scraps of wood, and to rig small yachts in the summer evenings. the glen and castle both are wonderfully improved. there is some good after all in ambition, if it is an honest one, and some truth, too, in the motto of the camerons, "whatever a man dares he can do." every year ralph, brave english ralph, comes to the castle on _the_ twelfth, and always spends a month; and every year allan and rory go southwards to leigh hall to return the visit. and they never go without taking silas and mcbain with them, so you may be sure these are very happy, very pleasant seasons. what about seth? oh, merely this, ralph offered to take him back to his own country, and to re-instal him as an arctic crusoe in his far northern home. "gentlemen," said seth, "i'm right sensible of all your kindness, but i guess i'm getting old, and if my young friend here wouldn't mind, i'd prefer leaving my bones in the glen here. civilisation has kind o' spoiled the old trapper, and he'd feel sort o' lonely now in his old farm. there ain't many b'ars in the glen, i reckon; but never mind, old seth can still draw a bead on a rabbit." "and so you shall," said allan. "i'll make you my warren-master, and head of all my keepers." so seth has settled down to end his days in peace. he dwells in one of the prettiest little highland cottages that ever you saw. it gets snowed over in winter sometimes, it is true, and that might be looked upon as a drawback; but oh, to see it in summer, when the feathery birches nod green around it and the heather is all in bloom! peter played a little trick on poor old seth, which i cannot help recording. "it will never do, you know," peter told him, "for a highland keeper on the estate of glentruim not to wear the kilt." "guess you're a kind o' right," said seth, "but, bless you, peter, my legs ain't o' no consequence, they ain't a bit thicker than old bran the deerhound's, and i reckon they're just about the same shape." "well," replied peter, "i grant you that is a kind of an objection, but then custom is everything, you know." so, lo and behold! one fine summer morning, who should stalk into the castle yard but old trapper seth arrayed in full highland costume. no wonder the dogs barked and ran away! no wonder allan and rory laughed till their sides ached and they could hardly hold their guns! no wonder old janet shouted and screamed with merriment, and cockie whistled shrill, and freezing powders nearly went into a fit! no, seth's legs were but little thicker than bran's. seth arrayed in skins from head to heel was passable, but seth in a kilt!!! poor seth! it was somewhat unkind of peter. however, the trapper never wore a kilt again. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the end.