“What is that? Do you hear a sound? Did you see anything?” said a voice in his ear.
The voice appeared so deep and hollow and strange, that he did not at first discover that it was Murray speaking to him. Alick repeated the question twice before he replied. He had, in truth, been fast asleep, but he did not know it.
“No—what? see, hear what? I don’t see anything,” was his somewhat incoherent answer.
“There it is again; music—someone singing,” continued Alick. “Can you see nothing?”
The two midshipmen peered eagerly out into the darkness, but nothing could they discern. They, however, drew Hemming’s attention to the circumstance. He had been walking the deck, so the noise of his own footsteps had prevented him from hearing the sound. He now listened with them, but after some time, hearing nothing, was inclined to think that they had been deceived by their fancy. Murray thought not, and, keeping his eyes on the point from which he believed the sounds had come, was almost certain that he could distinguish the sails of a square-rigged vessel passing at no great distance off, standing in towards the coast. He called Hemming’s attention to it, but whether or not the night mists had at the moment he was looking lifted up, and again sunk down, and allowed him to see a vessel really there, or that his fancy still misled him, it was impossible to say. Certainly no sail was to be seen, nor was a sound again heard. Slowly the hours of that night seemed to pass away. Day came at last, a gloomy coast-of-Africa morning, with a thick damp ague- and fever-giving fog. In vain they looked out for the Archer. They began to fear that she might have followed the vessel after which she had gone in chase to a considerable distance, thus delaying the expedition they were so anxious to undertake in search of the other boat. As the sun rose, however, his rays began a struggle with the mist, and, aided by a light breeze which sprung up from the northward, finally triumphed, and rolling off their adversary, they beamed forth on the dancing blue waters, and on the white canvas of the brig, which came gliding on majestically towards them, followed by another vessel, which she had overtaken and captured. The prize had half a cargo of slaves on board, and was on her way up to another place where her owners had agents to complete it. The first question which Alick and Terence asked on getting on board the Archer, was for Rogers and the other boat’s crew. Their hearts sank within them, when they found that nothing had been seem of the boat. Captain Grant listened to all the information they could give, and promptly formed a plan, the execution of which he entrusted to Hemming and the two midshipmen, complimenting them at the same time for the gallant way in which they had captured the slaver and brought her out of the river.
* * *
* * *
Chapter Thirteen.
Poor Jack Rogers! His lot was indeed a hard one. We left him clinging to the keel of the schooner, while she was carried on by the rapid current over the bar, amidst the raging waters and blinding foam. Every moment he expected to be torn from his hold, but life was dear to him, and he exerted every particle of strength he possessed to hold on. Now a sea would come and wash over the vessel, almost drowning him, and completely preventing him from seeing; then he felt that he was whirled round and round, till he looked up—but it was only to see another huge breaker rolling up ready to overwhelm him. He felt the terrific dash of the wave, the roar sounded in his ears—he was almost stunned. He prayed that he might be preserved from the terrible danger to which he was exposed. The roller passed on, leaving him still firmly clutching the wreck. Again he looked up. The blue sea danced cheerfully before his eyes; the sun shone brightly; the wreck had drifted clear of the influence of the breakers. Most grateful he felt at having been thus far preserved. Still he knew that he was not out of danger. The schooner might any moment go down, and he might be left, without a plank to rest on, to the mercy of the ravenous sharks which swarmed around. His first impulse was to look out for the brig. She was in the offing, standing away to the westward. He had no hope from any help she could render him. Then he looked back over the bar, in the expectation of seeing the other boat coming out; but nowhere was she to be discovered. He saw, meantime, that the wreck was drifting to the southward down the coast, and at no great distance from it.
He got up and gazed around. He was beginning to feel very hungry, and to his other dangers the risk of starvation was now added. Still he did not allow himself to despair. He hoped that his old schoolfellows and Hemming would soon recross the bar, and, seeing the wreck, come and find him. After a little time, as he was casting his eye to the southward, he thought he saw a dark object moving along close in shore, just outside the surf. He soon made out that it was a canoe, and then that she was manned by blacks. As they drew near, it was evident that they saw him on the wreck, for they at once pulled towards him. He scarcely knew whether to hail them as friends or foes. They were very ill-looking fellows he thought. There were also two white men in the stern-sheets of the canoe. He did not like their looks at all either. They were soon alongside, and when they saw his uniform, they looked up at him with no very friendly eye. Having held a short parley among themselves, they hailed him, but what they said he could not make out. Dangerous as his present position was, he felt no inclination to entrust himself to their care. However, they made signs to him to come down into the canoe, and after a little reflection, and thinking it better not to show any fear or mistrust of them, he complied with their demands, and as he slid down over the side of the vessel, they caught him, and hauled him in. He saw them minutely examining the vessel, and then they asked him a number of questions in Spanish, or a sort of mongrel Spanish, which he could not clearly comprehend, and he thought it more prudent not to show that he understood them at all. He made out, however, that the strangers were enquiring how the vessel was capsized, and how he came to be on board her. He guessed also that they knew that she was a slaver, and had been captured by the party to which he had belonged. When they found that he did not reply to their questions, they let him sit down at the bottom of the canoe, while the two whites and one of the black men talked together among themselves. They every now and them cast glances ominous of evil intentions towards him. Poor Jack did not at all like their looks, still less the tenor of the few words whose meaning he caught. “Knock him on the head at once,” said one. “Throw him overboard, and let the sharks have him,” proposed another. “Shoot him with pistol,” quoth the big negro, grinning horribly. These words were uttered with the most cold-blooded indifference, as if the act proposed by the speakers was one of everyday occurrence with them. Jack, as he listened, longed to make an effort to save his life; anything was better than to sit there quietly and be murdered. Far rather would he die struggling bravely for existence. Still, as the pirates did not make any further demonstration, he thought it would be wiser to appear unconscious of their threats, and remained where he was without moving. Jack, however, every now and then, looked over the gunwale of the canoe, to ascertain where they were going. They quickly arrived off the bar, but the slave-dealers or pirates, or whatever they were, seemed to think that there was too much surf to allow them to cross it. They therefore pulled back a little way to the south. Jack observed a patch of sandy beach, with a clear channel up to it, between two rocks. They waited for a short time, and then the canoe, mounting on the top of a roller, was carried rapidly forward, the foam hissing and bubbling round her, till she grounded on the beach. In a moment the crew, jumping out of her, ran her up out of the reach of the succeeding roller, which roared angrily, as if disappointed of its prey. Jack was going to walk on, but he felt a hand laid heavily on his shoulder, and his arms, being seized by two of the black fellows, were bound behind him, and he found himself a prisoner on the coast of Africa, without the slightest prospect, as far as he could see, of making his escape from his ruffian captors.
Poor Jack was dragged along by his savage companions, the muzzle of a pistol or the point of a long knife every now and then being shown him, as a hint that he must keep up his spirits and move on. This was no easy matter without stumbling, for the ground was strewed with decayed timber, while creepers and parasitical plants of numerous species formed traps to catch his feet. He saw, too, the grass frequently moving, as a hideous snake or some other reptile crept away among it. Overhead were birds of every variety, and of the richest plumage: parrots, trumpet birds, pigeons, whydahs, green parakeets, and numberless others, which he was in no humour just then to admire; while monkeys of all sorts skipped about among the boughs of the lofty palms, and chattered away, as if to enquire where the stranger had come from. In one or two openings between the giant palms, bananas, and other lofty trees, Jack caught sight of some blue ranges of mountains in the far distance, and towards them, as they pushed their way through the dense underwood, his captors seemed to be proceeding. The dreadful thought occurred to him, that he was being carried off into the interior to be turned into a slave, and perhaps that he should never be able to make his escape. The jungle grew thicker and thicker and the forest more gloomy as they proceeded, till he could scarcely work his way along, and even the Spaniards and blacks, with their arms at liberty, had no little difficulty in making progress through it. At last they came to a standstill, and a talk among themselves. Poor Jack caught the very ominous word, “mata el chico,” which he knew too well meant “kill the little chap.”
“He is not worth the trouble he costs us,” added the ferocious Spaniard who had spoken. “This knife of mine will settle him with a blow.”
“It is a pity we did not do it in the canoe, and save ourselves trouble,” growled out his companion, drawing his long knife from his belt.
Jack felt that his last moments had come. He however eyed his captors boldly, and tried to nerve himself for the expected stroke. A short time before, some villains of the same character as those into whose power he had fallen, had murdered a young midshipman, whom they had found on board a prize they had retaken, and he knew that they would have no scruple about killing him. The blacks stood by enjoying apparently his agony; for brave as he was, it was a bitter thing thus without cause to be cruelly murdered in cold blood. No one spoke. Jack tried to offer up a prayer to Heaven, but at such a moment even to pray was difficult. His heart, though, was praying, and One who knows what is in the heart heard him. Suddenly there was a rustling of leaves, a crashing of boughs. A loud shriek was uttered, and a huge animal leaped through the brushwood, and, seizing one of the negroes, again bounded off into the thicket. The unfortunate wretch cried out piteously for help. The Spaniards and the negroes turned to pursue the wild beast. From the glimpse Jack had of it, he believed it to be a tiger. The negro who had been seized was the smallest of the party, and of light weight, and the savage brute was more accustomed to make his way through the tangled underwood than were his pursuers. On he went, bounding through the thicket, his miserable victim in vain crying for assistance. The rest pursued as fast as they could, apparently forgetting Jack altogether. They were soon hid from his sight by the trees. He had no wish to follow them, even had he possessed the power of so doing. His arms were bound, and before he could do anything he must contrive to get them loose. He tugged and tugged away frantically. He was afraid his captors would be back before he could get free, and execute their murderous threats. By what means he was to escape, he could not just then tell. The first thing was to obtain the use of his limbs. He worked away for life and death.
At last he twisted the rope round so that he could reach one of the knots with his teeth. He pulled away lustily. He found that he was slackening it. He listened for the shouts and cries of the pirates. He thought that their voices sounded louder and nearer again. He was every moment getting the ropes looser. One more tug, and his hands were at liberty. He struck out on either side to assure himself that he had the free use of them. He looked round; no one was in sight. His first impulse was to set off and run back to the coast, but then he recollected that he might be easily pursued, that it must be seven or eight miles off at least, as three or four hours had passed since he and his captors had left it. After a moment’s reflection he determined to find his way as soon as possible to the banks of the river. He was certain that the boats would be sent in to look for his party, and by watching for them, he hoped to be able to make some signal to call their attention to himself. He still heard the voices of the pirates. A tall palm tree was near. He thought that the safest plan would be to get to the top of it. He could easily hide himself among the wide-spreading leaves, and the Spaniards, believing that his arms were bound, would never think of looking there for him. He would also have the advantage of watching all that was going on below. He had seen blacks climb a tree with a band partly round their stem and partly round their waists. The rope he had just got clear of his arms would help him up in the same way. He rapidly fitted it, and with knees and hands working away, up he went the smooth stem. He had got nearly to the top, when he heard a chattering, and looking up he saw a very ugly face grinning down upon him. An ape had previous possession of his proposed stronghold. He was not to be daunted, however, but swinging himself up on the bough, prepared to do battle for its possession. He had still a pistol in his belt, though it was not loaded. The pirates had forgotten to deprive him of it. He held it by the muzzle, and Master Quacko, who seemed to be a very sensible monkey, thought that it would be foolish to pick a quarrel with so well-armed a stranger. As Jack advanced, he retreated, till Jack reached the centre of the tree, where he could coil himself away without the possibility of anyone below discovering him. He looked round before sitting down. Below him was a dense mass of foliage, with only here and there an opening. To the west, in the far distance, was the sea, looking bright and blue; to the east were ranges of mountains, the most remote evidently of considerable elevation; while to the north he caught a glimpse of the river, to his great satisfaction not very far off. He could still hear the voices of the pirates, but he could not discover whether they had succeeded in rescuing the wretched negro from the fangs of the tiger. Meantime the monkey sat on the farther end of a branch, watching him.
