Майн Рид
Ran Away to Sea
Alas! when morning came, we saw to our dismay that they had no such design; from their cries and gestures we were satisfied that the siege was to be sustained. They were all there – all that we had seen upon the preceding night – and it appeared as if there were many more. No doubt others had joined them from the woods; for there were not less than a hundred of them. The hideous brutes appeared all around – some squatted on the ground, some up in the branches of the baobab – and in the midst of a chattering group we could see the carcass of the one that had been killed while close by was the wounded individual, also surrounded by sympathising friends.
Now and again, a band would collect together; and apparently inspired by a fresh burst of rage, would crowd up to the entrance of our asylum, and renew their attack upon the barricade. We, as before, would repel them, until they perceived that their attempts were futile, and then they would desist, and retire until something arising among themselves seemed to instigate them to a renewed assault.
This was their conduct throughout the whole of that day, and during all the time were we kept shut up in our gloomy cell. We had strengthened our barricade – by materials obtained from the third malefactor – and so far felt safe enough; but we now began to have fears of another enemy – one that was as terrible in its attack, and as powerful to destroy, as either the mandrills, or the strong lion himself. That enemy was not new to us; we had already had an encounter with it; we had met it among the branches of the dragon-tree, and we were now to meet it again beside the trunk of the baobab. It was thirst.
Yes, we already experienced its painful sensation. Every moment it was gaining ground upon us, and its pangs becoming keener and harder to endure. Should the siege continue much longer, we knew not how we could endure it.
Should the siege continue? It did continue throughout all that day, the fierce brutes remained by the tree throughout all the following night; and when the second morning dawned, we saw them around as numerous as ever, and apparently as implacable and determined on vengeance as they had been at their first onset!
What were we to do? Without rest, without sleep, without food, but worst of all without water, we could exist no longer. To go out was to be destroyed – torn to atoms – devoured; to stay where we were was to die of thirst – a more lingering and painful death! what were we to do?
We were in deep despair – we had almost yielded up the hope of being saved – not almost, but altogether.
We could have had no hope, except that our assailants might become tired of the protracted siege and leave us. But, as already observed, these creatures possess intelligence that resembles that of human beings. They perfectly comprehended our situation, and knowing it, were not likely to give us any chance of escape; there was no hope.
In this belief had we continued for some time, sitting side by side in a state of extreme dejection. Neither of us said a word. We had nothing to say – no counsel to offer to each other.
We had several times talked over the possibility of fighting our way through the host of mandrills, and escaping by swiftness of foot. We knew that, once in the open ground, we could run faster than they; for although the baboons run well through thickets and woods – where they occasionally help themselves forward by grasping the boughs of the trees – and although upon open ground they progress faster than many other kinds of monkeys, yet a man can outrun them.
This we knew, and were now very regretful that we had not made a burst through their line, and gone off at first, as we should have done. Afterwards it became more difficult to do so, as the crowd got greater, and hemmed us in more closely, and we had looked upon it as altogether impossible. Now, however, that the terrible thirst was impelling us, we had almost made up our minds to issue forth and run the gauntlet. Ben argued that it would be better to do so than perish by inches in that dark cavern; and I was in the mind to agree with him. We would be certain to have a terrible struggle, and be badly torn; in all probability one or both of us would fall: but the prospect appeared the less dreadful on account of the suffering we endured from thirst. I may add that we were hungry as well; but this was but a secondary consideration when compared with the pangs of the sister appetite.
Another cause of uneasiness now presented itself. The baboons, apparently becoming impatient at waiting so long for their vengeance, seemed to have been forming plans of their own, and began to make fresh attempts upon the skeleton barricade. In twos and threes they attacked it with their teeth; and at each assault portions of the dry skin and bones of the mummies were carried off. It was plain that if this should continue much longer the whole three malefactors would be demolished, and we could no longer defend the entrance. Of course after that there could be but one result – our destruction.
More than ever did we give way to despair; and, hardly deeming it worth while to exert ourselves, we remained passively awaiting the crisis.
All of a sudden I perceived my companion rouse himself from his despondent attitude and commence fumbling about over the floor. What could he be after? I put the question.
“I’ve got an idea, Will!” was his reply, “shiver my timbers!” continued he, “if I don’t believe I can scatter them apes to the four points o’ the compass.”
“How?” I eagerly inquired.
“You’ll see, lad! where be the skin o’ the lion?”
“I’m sitting upon it,” said I, “do you want it?”
“Yes – quick! give it me, Will!”
It was by a mere chance that the lion’s hide had been brought inside the chamber. We had not used it as a cover – on account of its being still raw – and, previous to the appearance of the baboons, it had been rolled up, and laid in the entrance of the tree-cave as the fittest place that offered. In rushing inside, it had been kicked before us; and thus it was that we happened to be in possession of it.
Without losing a second of time, I pulled it from under me, and handed it to my companion. I already suspected the use he intended to make of it; and without further explanation, I went to work to assist him in his design.
In ten minutes after, the body of Ben Brace was completely enveloped in the skin of the lion; which was tied and corded around him in such a manner, that it would have required sharper eyes than those of a baboon to have discovered the counterfeit.
His design was to sally forth in this disguise and show himself to the baboons, with the hope that the appearance of their king might terrify them into flight. If it did not produce this effect, Ben reasoned, that we could be no worse off than ever, as he could retreat back into the cave and we could barricade it as before.
There was certainly some probability that the plan might succeed. We knew that nearly all animals have a great dread of the lion, and that the baboons are no exception to the rule. Often the very sight of the forest-monarch will terrify other wild beasts to such an extent that they will run before him as from the presence of a human being. The ingenious plan, therefore, of counterfeiting the lion, which my companion had conceived, was not without good probability of success; and we were both cheered by the prospect.
To make sure that failure should not arise from haste or carelessness in the preparations, we proceeded with due care and caution, and took plenty of time to get everything complete. We sheathed Ben’s arms in the skin that had covered the fore-limbs of the lion, stretching it out till the paws concealed his knuckles. The legs were wrapped in the hide that had enveloped the posterior limbs of the great beast; and we had a good deal of trouble before the “pantaloons” could be made to fit. The head was easily adapted to the crown of the sailor; and the ample skin of the body met in front, and was there fastened by strings. Fortunately we had plenty of cord. That fine piece, that had already done such good service, was still in our possession, and we again made use of it to advantage.
At length the masquerading costume was deemed complete, and the lion was ready to play his part.
We were cautious, too, about the disposal of the mummies, so that, in case of need, they might serve us again: and, when all was arranged to our satisfaction, we pulled them back out of the entrance.
Our manoeuvres had now attracted the attention of the besiegers – who showed by their cries and movements that they were upon the alert.
Just at this crisis the lion sailed forth; and if ever there was a helter-skelter among a troop of monkeys worth witnessing, my companion and I saw it at that moment. There was screaming and yelling, and jabbering and gibbering, and a rushing in every direction – except that which would have conducted towards the counterfeit lion – which beast was all the while making the most violent demonstrations, and uttering loud noises, that in deepness of baritone almost equalled the roar of the forest-monarch himself!
What became of the baboons we could not tell – they seemed to vanish into the earth, or the air: at all events in less than two minutes, from the time the lion made his appearance outside the baobab, not one of them was to be seen; and the tawny quadruped, all at once ceasing to roar like a lion, could be heard emitting from his fierce jaws loud yells of human laughter!
We stayed not much longer under the shadow of the baobab. It was dangerous ground. The mandrills might discover the cheat and come back; so, with this apprehension in our thoughts, we took a hasty leave of our aged friends the mummies, and hurried rapidly down the hill. We halted only to drink, and then pushed onward.
It was near noon of the third day, from the time of our starting on our expedition, before we astonished by our reappearance the crew of the Pandora.
Chapter Thirty One
The Pandora was now rapidly made ready for her voyage across the Atlantic. The carpenter had finished his bulkheads and hatch-gratings, and the men were daily engaged in emptying the salt-water out of the casks and refilling them with fresh – a somewhat slow and troublesome job.
While these preparations were going on, a messenger arrived at the factory of King Dingo Bingo, who brought with him a report that put his majesty into the most terrible state of uneasiness and alarm, and also produced a very similar effect upon the skipper of the Pandora.
The messenger, or messengers – for there were three of them – were negroes, of course. They were of the kind known as Kroomen; that is, a class of negroes found along most parts of the western coast of Africa, who are greatly addicted to the sea, and make excellent sailors when so employed. They are, in fact, the “boatmen” of the African coast, or “watermen,” if you prefer it, but not unfrequently they ship for a long voyage; and many vessels in the African trade are accustomed, when short of hands, to make up their crew from among these Kroomen.
Three of these Kroomen, then, had suddenly made their appearance in the river, with a report that spread consternation among the people of King Dingo Bingo and those of the Pandora.
What was this report?
It was that a British cruiser had called in at a station some fifty miles farther up the coast, and reported that she had been in chase of a large slave barque – that she had lost sight of the latter out at sea, but was still in search of her, and expected to find her to the south – that the cruiser only stopped at the above-mentioned port to take in water, and, as soon as that was accomplished, she should come down the coast and search every nook and inlet to find the slaver.
Most of this information had been given confidentially to the chief factor of the port, an Englishman, whose business lay in palm-oil, ground-nuts, ivory, and other African products, and who was not supposed to have any connection whatever with the slave-trade. On the contrary, he was one of those who lent his aid to its suppression: giving every assistance to the slave-cruisers, and being on terms of friendship and intimacy with their commanders.
But for all that, this comfortable John Bull was suspected – not by the aforesaid commanders, however – of having very amicable relations with his majesty King Dingo Bingo – so amicable that there were those who hinted at a sort of partnership existing between them!
Be that as it may, it is certain that the Englishman had sent the three Kroomen to warn King Dingo Bingo of his danger – for there was no secret made of this fact on board the Pandora. The Kroomen had ventured round the coast in a small sail-boat, and entered by the mouth of the river, having performed most part of the dangerous voyage in the night.
Their report, as I have said, produced consternation on all hands. There could be no doubt that the cruiser was the cutter that had chased us; and knowing that the slaver had gone southward after giving her the slip, she would take that direction to look out for her, and would be certain to explore every inch of the coast in her cruise. Of course the river would not be likely to escape her observation, and if she should there find the Pandora, it would be all up with the slaver. Probably enough, the cruiser may have picked up a pilot, who knew all about King Dingo Bingo and his slave-factory. If so, it would not be long before she would be down upon us. She might be looked for every minute!
No wonder, then, that the report of the Kroomen carried consternation with it.
As for the “king,” he was far less terrified than the “captain.” His villainous majesty had far less to fear from a visit of the cruiser. He had already made his bargain; and although the slaves were still in the barracoon, they were no longer his, and it mattered not to him into whose hands they fell. He had received his full pay for them in the rum, salt, and muskets; these had been landed and handed over, and as soon as he could remove them beyond the reach of the cruiser, he would be perfectly safe and at his ease.
This precaution he took as soon as the Kroomen had delivered their report. His followers were set to work, and in a few hours every article that had been landed from the barque was carried away from the “factory” and hidden far off in the woods. When the work of removal was over his majesty lit his pipe and filled his glass, and then sat him down as coolly and unconcernedly as if there was not a cruiser on all the African coast.
Very different, however, was the situation of the captain of the Pandora. It is true, he might also have hidden part of his property. He might have run off the slaves into the woods and there concealed them for a time; and it was amusing to see with what energy the “king” counselled him to his course. His majesty saw, that if this plan was adopted, and the cruiser should appear in the river, then the barque would be taken and the slaves left behind, and out of all this confusion there must be some advantage to himself; there would be a chance that the five hundred “bultos” would fall into his hands, and he would be able to sell them a second time. This was, indeed, a rich prospect, and, without hinting to any probable advantage to himself, the old rascal kept urging the skipper to adopt this plan with an anxiety and importunity that was quite ludicrous.
But the captain could not be brought to comply with the advice. He knew the danger of trusting the five hundred slaves in the woods. Most of them might take “leg-bail” for it, and, maybe, his “dear friend” King Dingo Bingo might not guard them from this so very carefully! Some of them might find their way to their own homes again, but a good many would be likely to stray back to King Dingo’s town, and it would be a hard matter to identify goods that were so much like each other as negroes are.
Besides, if he could even succeed in hiding the cargo, he could not hope to hide the vessel. The cutter, if she came near the river at all, would be certain to find the barque, and equally certain to capture her. That done, what would become of the slaves? what would become of the captain himself, and his crew? They would have difficulty enough either to subsist, or find their way out of such an inhospitable land – for the skipper well knew that, his fine vessel once gone, his dear friend Dingo would behave towards him in quite a different manner. Yes, the skipper was an experienced man, and knew all that, and, knowing it, he lent a deaf ear to the counsels of the “king.”
As soon, therefore, as the report of the Kroomen reached him – for it did not reach him until some time after his majesty had received it – he at once formed a resolve as to how he should act, and that resolve was to embark his cargo as speedily as possible, and, without wasting a moment, stand out to sea.
This the wary skipper perceived to be his best plan; in fact, the only one by which he could hope to save his vessel. If the cruiser was actually coming down the coast – and there could be no doubt but that she was – his only chance would be to get out before she arrived opposite the mouth of the river. Should she once come there before he could put to sea, then the barque would be regularly in the trap, and an armed boat or two from the cutter would capture her without any difficulty, indeed, without resistance; for rough, and brutal, and bold, as were the crew of the slaver, they knew very well that it would be idle to resist the well-organised attack of a ship of war, or half-a-dozen armed boats, such as the cutter could set afloat. The capture of the barque would, therefore, be a thing of course, and the only chance her owner had of saving her would be to put to sea at once.
The wind was light – it was blowing from the coast – both which circumstances were greatly in favour of the Pandora’s escape. The contrary wind would be likely to hinder the cruiser from coming near, at all events it would delay her, and then, should the slaver succeed in getting out, a light breeze, as already seen, would be altogether in her favour, and against her antagonist.
Elated by these hopes, but still under terrible anxiety, the captain lost no time in getting his cargo aboard.
Chapter Thirty Two
All the slaver’s boats were called into requisition, and the crew – every man of them – were as busy as bees.
Perhaps Brace and myself were the only ones among them who had no heart in the work; but, to keep up appearances, we were compelled to labour as the rest.
The embarkation was easy enough, and the stowage still more so. It was a different affair from taking on board a cargo of heavy barrels and boxes. The living “bales” moved of their own accord, or were forced to move, if they did not, and there was nothing further required than to march them from the barracoon to the bank, then row them to the vessel, hurry them over the side, and huddle them down the hatch to the “’tweendecks” below. The males and females were put into different compartments, though this was not done out of any regard to decency, but merely for convenience. When “stowed” thus they would be easier managed upon the passage – such was the experience of the slave-traders. The bulk-head that separated them was very slight, and they could communicate through it with each other.
With the women were stowed all the younger slaves, both girls and boys, and there were many children, poor little “piccaninnies,” jet-black, and naked as when born. Indeed, most of the whole crowd were naked, both men and women. Some of the latter had a simple skirt of cotton, or plaited palm-leaves hanging around them, and a few of the men had a piece of coarse cloth about their thighs, but many were without even this apology for a garment. Whatever they may have worn in their native place had been taken from them. No doubt the followers of King Dingo, when making them captives, had robbed them also of their scant wardrobe. The men were manacled together in twos, and sometimes three and four in a group. This was to prevent any attempt at escape, and was the work of his majesty. Only a few of the women wore chains; most likely they were those who possessed a stronger spirit than their wretched companions, and had proved refractory on their inland journey, or while kept in the barracoon. These manacles were not removed by the people of the Pandora, but just as the blacks had been delivered over, so were they crowded aboard, chains, fetters, and all.
King Dingo Bingo stood upon the bank by the place of landing and watched the embarkation, in which his bodyguard assisted. The skipper was by his side, and the two held conversation just in the same manner as if they superintended the lading of a cargo of ordinary merchandise! His majesty occasionally pointed out some one of the slaves, and made his remarks upon the qualities of the individual. He was either a good “bulto” – valuable article – or some refractory fellow that the captain was desired to watch well on the voyage. Many of the poor victims were evidently well-known to this hideous monster, and, indeed, as already hinted at, some of them were his own subjects! King Dingo Bingo thought nothing of that so long as he could sell them and get pay in return. His relation to his people generally was that of complete master and owner; and he felt towards them as a farmer to his hogs, or a grazier to his cattle. He and the captain gaily chatted and joked and laughed, when any of the poor wretches passed them whose appearance was calculated to excite ridicule; while to me the whole scene was one of disgust and sorrow, and with sad, sad heart did I assist in the spectacle.
The embarkation was still going on, and most of the unfortunate creatures had been carried aboard, when the boat of the Kroomen was observed coming rapidly up stream. These had been sent down to the mouth of the river to reconnoitre, and keep watch until the slaver should be ready for sea. In case the cutter or any sail should come in sight, they had orders to row back as quickly as possible and give the alarm.
The fact of them coming back at all was proof that some sail had been made out; and the rapidity with which they were plying their oars not only confirmed this belief, but showed that they had something very important to tell.
Both Dingo Bingo and the skipper beheld their approach with consternation, which was not allayed in the least when the Kroomen rowed alongside and delivered their report.
A sail was in sight, sure enough, and not only in sight, but actually heading in for the coast! The Kroomen had no doubt about the sort of craft it was. They had seen the cutter before setting out from the English factory. They had noted her rig. It was she.
The captain at first exhibited some signs of dismay, but after looking up to the sky and around to the tree-tops, to note which way blew the wind, he appeared to recover his spirits a little, and ordered the embarkation to be hurried on.
Meanwhile the Kroomen were despatched back to the point of observation at the mouth of the river, with orders to report from time to time the progress which the cruiser was making. The captain saw that the wind was in his favour, and dead ahead for the cutter; it would be impossible for her to enter the river so long as the wind remained in that quarter, and as it was now within an hour of night, she would scarce attempt to venture near the shore, at all events not before morning. His hopes were that she would cast anchor a mile or two from land, and that in the darkness he would be able to run the gauntlet and get past her. He might catch a shot or two while doing so, but his cargo was worth the risk, and, besides, he had now no other chance of saving either cargo or vessel. Should he remain where he was, both would be captured before another night.
He had formed his resolution, therefore, to run the gauntlet as described, that is, provided the cutter came to anchor far enough out to sea to give him a chance. His trust was in the wind, which from this time forth he watched with the greatest anxiety.
