Some dreadful suspicions came over Paddy’s mind when he heard this, and his fears were not allayed when he heard a loud chattering, and presently Queerface, with Polly and Nelly, appeared at the open window, the former with the missing wig on his head and the dressing-gown over his shoulders. In he popped, nothing daunted, and, seeing an empty chair—the intended occupant had died of the coast fever that morning—he squatted himself down in it, and began bowing and grinning away round to all the company.
Paddy began to scold him, but Queerface merely lifted a glass which stood near him, and nodded his head at him in the most cool and impudent way as much as to say, “We understand each other perfectly—we are both men of the world.” Then he turned to the master of the house, and, steadfastly looking at his white nightcap, adjusted the wig he had stolen in the most comical manner. Everybody present all the time was roaring with laughter, in which no one joined more heartily than did the master of the house.
“Come, come, Master Queerface, I want back my wig,” he exclaimed at last; “my wig, old fellow—my wig—ha—ha—ha!”
But not a bit of it. Queerface was evidently too much delighted with the ornament on his pate to think of abandoning it, and the more vehement were the signs Mr Wilkie made, the tighter did he haul it down over his ears. As he sat up in a big chair, with the coloured dressing-gown over his shoulders, and the wig hanging down on each side of his head, Paddy declared that he looked exactly like a judge on the bench.
“Will you or will you not give me up my wig?” at length exclaimed the owner of it; but Queerface held it tighter than ever. “Take that, then!” cried Mr Wilkie, recollecting a well-known story of his youth, and, seizing his white nightcap, he flung it at Queerface. The monkey was not slow to imitate the example; but, whipping off the wig, he threw it at the owner with one hand while he caught the white cap with the other, and soon his ugly mug was grinning with delight from under it. Mr Wilkie, having delivered over his wig to one of his negro servants to be brushed and cleansed, begged his guests and family to begin dinner. Adair and his brother midshipmen apologised for the behaviour of their companion, but he assured them that he would not have missed the fun on any account, and that his wig was not a bit the worse for having been worn by the monkey.
“Ye ken, ma laddies, that the wee bit mannie is verra particular in keepin’ his friends’ heads clean, and I doot na his ain still mair sae,” he answered, for he was a true Scotchman, and though he could speak with the tongue of the south on ordinary occasions, whenever excited, either by mirth or anger, his northern accent showed itself in all its vigour.
A very jolly and pleasant dinner the midshipmen had, the substantials being washed down with champagne and claret. All sorts of curious fruit were placed on the table.
“What’s this?” asked Jack, taking up a fruit from which a sweet juice ran forth.
“That is what we call the cream fruit,” answered his host. “In this country we have milk and cream growing on trees, and bread too and eggs also. There is nothing nature does not produce for us.”
“Oysters too, I can answer for it; I’ve seen them with my my own eyes growing on the trees,” observed Paddy.
“You saw them there, but you have no proof that they grew there,” observed Murray, who knew the true state of the case. “The trees bend their boughs down into the water, and at high tide the oysters get hold of them; when the tide falls, they are left hanging, as you have seen them.”
“Aye, faith, and hoisted up, you would say, Alick,” answered Paddy, where on there was a laugh, and he as usual adroitly turned it off from himself.
Oh, how delicious they thought the figs and oranges, and the limes and the pineapples, and the plantains! Fortunately in that climate people may eat a large quantity of thoroughly sun-ripened fruit with impunity. The sugar-plum must not be forgotten—not such as is made by confectioners, but a real fruit, growing on a handsome tall tree—a very delicious fruit, too, well worthy of its name.
“Talking of various articles growing on trees—we have both butter and tallow trees, which produce an abundance of those articles,” observed Mr Wilkie. “I cannot say that I admire the taste of the former, but the natives out here eat it and consider it a luxury. By the by, we have another sort of plum, which we call the gingerbread plum. Here, what do you think of it?”
The opinion seemed to be that it was not very first-rate, and that it was as much like gingerbread as it was like pease-pudding. After dinner they strolled out to see a monkey-bread tree, the baobab, a huge monster, which Mr Wilkie asserted was three or four thousand years old. It was not more than seventy feet high, but the stem was close upon thirty feet in diameter, with immensely long roots, while the boughs hung down to the ground, forming altogether a wonderful mass of verdure.
“A jolly abode for the monkeys,” observed Adair. “I wonder whether my friend Queerface would like to take up his lodgings there if I were to leave him on shore.”
Queerface seemed to understand the remark, and, jumping up on Adair, showed no inclination to leave him. Murray had held up wonderfully during all the hardships he had undergone, and even after he came on shore he was able for some time to go about, but a few days after this the fever, which had been hovering about him, seized him. He would have had to go to the hospital, but Mr Wilkie sent a litter for him, and had him carried to his own house, and nursed him as if he had been his son. Jack and Terence went there every day, and assisted in nursing him, but for long he appeared to be hovering between life and death. Often his two messmates left him with sad and sorrowing hearts, believing that they might never see him again. At last he rallied and seemed to be getting better. Now they longed for a ship, because they hoped that breathing again the pure sea air, unmixed with any exhalation from the land, might restore him. He was at last able to accompany them about the town.
The first ship which looked into the river was the Ranger herself, and as it was very important for Murray’s health that he should get afloat, Captain Lascelles carried him off, as well as his own two midshipmen, with, of course, Queerface and the two parrots. The Ranger went away to the southward, where she cruised without much success. Those only who have been long on the coast know what dreary work it often is, how homesick many poor fellows become, how easily, when the coast fever gets hold of them, the destroyer gains the victory. They had been some two or three weeks at sea, when the ship was some way to the southward, and had stood in for the land at a place called Elephant Bay. The boats were sent on shore to bring off water, the weather being fine, and the state of the surf allowing of a landing. Paddy and one of the assistant-surgeons were in one boat. While the casks were being filled, they came to a shallow pool, where the medico discovered a quantity of leeches.
“These will be most welcome on board,” he exclaimed. “We have been out of them for some time, and Dr McCan will be most thankful for a supply.”
Paddy had been carrying a jar for Frazer, the assistant-surgeon, for the purpose of holding any aquatic specimens of natural history they might fall in with. They were all now turned out, and the jar filled with leeches. They had got farther than they intended, and when they returned to the beach they found all the boats gone, and only one canoe, manned with Kroomen, left to bring them off. The surf had in the meantime got up; however, the canoe was as well able to pass through it as any of the other boats.
“We must not run the risk of losing the leeches,” observed Paddy. “I will fasten the jar with a lanyard round my neck, and then, if the canoe is capsized, that will be saved at all events, as we can easily scramble into her again.”
This was done, and into the surf the canoe was launched. She breasted the rising seas bravely, for she was very light, and her black crew handled her beautifully. Both Adair and Frazer thought the last rollers passed, and were congratulating themselves on being certain to get on board without a ducking, when unexpectedly a white-topped sea rose directly upon them, and in a moment they found themselves rolled over into the water. They clung to the canoe, and the black crew swam round her, and striking out before they attempted to right her, towed her away entirely from the influence of the breakers. Paddy and Frazer had some unpleasant misgivings about sharks, but the blacks shouted and shrieked loudly, that if there were any they were kept at a distance. They were soon, however, again seated in the canoe; and as the frigate had stood in to meet them, it was not long before they were close to her.
“I say, Doctor, I feel some rather unpleasant sensations about my neck,” observed Paddy. “I can’t help thinking that some nettlefish must have got hold of me in the water. I feel the stinging all over me, right down my breast. What can it be?”
“Bear a hand there and get that canoe up alongside,” sang out the officer of the watch from the deck of the frigate.
The order was speedily obeyed, and the dripping officers and black crew were soon standing on the deck.
“Hillo, Paddy, why what’s the matter with you?” exclaimed Jack, who had been watching the canoe; “you are all streaming with blood.”
“It’s a jellyfish got hold of me, I conclude,” answered Paddy; but looking down he saw the jar into which he had put the leeches dangling at his neck, but the cork was out, so were the leeches, and they, of course, had fixed themselves to the first body with which they had come in contact. This was Paddy’s neck. They had just now begun to drop off, and streamlets of blood were running down from him in every direction. Poor Paddy was indeed a most pitiable object, with his hair all lank and wet hanging down his face, for he had lost his hat, and he had on only a linen jacket over his flannel shirt, inside of which some of the greedy leeches had crawled, while the rest hung round his neck and throat, their black bodies quickly swelling out and looking like so many pendants of polished ebony.
No sooner did Queerface, who happened to be up the rigging sunning himself, recognise his master, than down on deck he scuttled and hurried up to him. He seemed very much astonished at the look of the leeches, and evidently could not make out what they were. Adair held out his hand, when up he jumped, and thrusting his paw down his shirt pulled out a leech which had not yet fixed itself. The monkey’s first impulse was to put it to his nose, towards which the creature made a twist and fixed itself firmly. Poor Queerface opened his paw, and, not knowing what had happened, off he scuttled again up the rigging with the leech hanging to his nose, and apparently not liking the feel of it, he had not the courage to pull it off, till it dropped off itself on the deck. Everybody laughed, so did Adair, in spite of the pain and annoyance he was suffering.
“A pretty sort of a necklace for a nice young Irish gentleman of polite manners and respectable connections,” he exclaimed, still laughing away. “But I say, Doctor, do bear a hand and get these brutes off me, for they are becoming remarkably troublesome.”
“That I will, my boy,” answered Dr McCan, to whom he had spoken. “You are suffering in my service, and I am bound to do my best for you.”
The doctor at once got Adair below, and by applying salt to the tails of the leeches made them let go. And then a little cooling ointment set him all to rights, while the bleeding did him no particular harm. It was many a day, however, before he got rid of the marks of the bites.
As the appearance of the frigate off the coast put all the slave-dealers on the alert, Captain Lascelles adopted a plan which has frequently been successful. Standing inshore, he would suddenly make all sail away, either to the northward or southward, as if in chase of some vessel, and then, when the ship could no longer be seen from the land, he would heave-to and send the boats inshore, when very frequently they would pounce upon slave vessels totally unsuspicious of their presence. While the boats were on shore watering, Hemming had with a few hands walked along the coast and ascertained that a number of blacks, prisoners-of-war they were called, were collected in the neighbourhood, and there could be no doubt that a vessel would soon be coming to take them off. Accordingly the usual ruse was put in practice, and the pinnace, under the command of Hemming, with Jack Rogers and Adair, left the ship to watch for her. Murray was still too unwell to engage in any such duty. They left the ship in the evening, so that it was dark by the time they neared the land. Hemming had fixed upon a spot among some high rocks where the boat might remain completely concealed either from people on the shore or from anyone afloat. The only difficulty was finding the way into it among the rocks at night; still he hoped to effect that. There was a slight crescent moon, which shone on the calm waters and showed the white sandy beach and the tall wide-topped palm-trees rising up against the clear sky. There hung also over the land a slight gauze-like mist, which somewhat distorted objects. They rowed steadily on with muffled oars, making as little splash as possible.
“Starboard a little,” said Hemming to Jack, who was steering. “I think that I can make out the opening I want to find; yes! that’s it, I’m sure.” In a few minutes the boat glided in between high ocean-worn rocks, round from the waves of the Atlantic dashing against them for thousands of years past. A grapnel was hove on to the rocks, and there she lay as snug as any on board could desire. The boat was furnished with a little stove for cooking, and they had a good supply of eatables and drinkables on board, the latter being, however, more in the shape of tea, coffee, and cocoa than spirits. Having supped, all hands turned in to sleep except two, an officer and man, who sat up to keep watch. Jack, Adair, and Hemming succeeded each other; but though they kept their ears open, not a sound could they hear to indicate the approach of any vessel. At length the sun rose, but Hemming determined to remain where he was all day, hoping that should a breeze spring up, the looked-for slaver might make her appearance. Hour after hour passed pleasantly enough, however, for they had no lack of provisions, and books, and chess, and games for the men.
At last Jack suggested that it might be possible to make a look-out place from the top of one of the rocks. He first ordered the men to cut a quantity of seaweed and to tie it up in bundles, and then, getting on to one of the rocks, he crawled along on hands and knees till he reached the outer edge, when he found a cleft which exactly answered his wishes. Hauling up the bundles of seaweed he placed them before him, so that he could look out without being seen himself. Without much difficulty he could crawl backwards and forwards to it from the boat. He had gone several times, when at length, early in the afternoon, he made out a sail in the offing. He watched her eagerly through his glass. She was a felucca, and as she drew near he made her out to be a large vessel for her rig, and a most rakish wicked-looking craft. Her very appearance made him certain that she was engaged in no lawful calling. At last, when he saw her stand into the bay and drop her anchor, he hurried back to give the information to Hemming. Jack was for dashing out at once and capturing her, but his more cautious superior shook his head. “No, no, my boy, wait till she has got all her slaves on board and then we’ll have her and them too.” The boat, therefore, remained snugly hid. During daylight Jack kept crawling up to his look-out place to see what was going forward. At last he came back reporting that a raft had come off from the shore loaded with slaves; and that they were being shipped on board the felucca.
