“We must free the slavers from their irons,” said the lieutenant. “We must give them a chance. Come along and help me, you two.” And with the aid of Hans and a sailor the lieutenant freed the crew of the slaver, and signed to them to follow on deck.

“Now into the two boats, men!” said the officer. “If we have any room, we’ll save whoever we can. Stand by to let me in, for I’m going to free the hatch, and let the slaves up. They must have a chance for life, and God help them! for I see no possibility of human aid being of benefit.” The sailors having hurried into the boats, the lieutenant seized a handspike, and knocking off the fastening of the hatchway, left it so that a very moderate amount of strength would force it up. He then lowered himself into the boat, and ordered the men to pull away a short distance from the slaver, where he purposed watching the struggle that he hoped might take place between the crew and the fire.

“I could do nothing else, I think,” said the officer to Hans. “I have the lives of my men under my charge, and if I had waited on board, these slaves would have tried to murder us. Now they have a chance for their lives, but I run a risk now. If the slaver is burnt, and her crew and slaves go down with her, I may be called cruel for having left them to themselves, whilst I saved my own and my men’s lives. If the fire is put out, I must again go on board, though we lose half our number in the attempt, or I should never dare show myself to the Admiral. Ah! there’s a specimen of the negro’s habits.”

The slaves, upon being able to raise the hatches, rushed on deck, shouting and yelling like demons. Seeing some of the slaver’s crew, who had also come on deck, they rushed at them, and with such weapons as each possessed a fight took place on the deck of the doomed vessel. Utterly reckless as regards the fire, which was now raging, and illuminating the deck, the two parties fought for revenge and life. The numbers of the negroes soon enabled them to overcome the slaver’s crew, who were stiff from their late confinement, and the negroes were consequently masters of the ship. The use they made of this temporary possession was not to endeavour to quell the flames, or in any way to make preparations for their own safety; but, rushing into the cabins, they searched for plunder, and more particularly for drink, which, however, did not consist of any thing more than a few bottles of inferior brandy. For the possession of this brandy terrific struggles took place, handspikes and planking being used for weapons. To view this scene from the boats was like obtaining a temporary view of the imaginary infernal regions on which so many civilised beings delight to enlarge and dwell. The raging fire, which now was catching the rigging, was below the mass of yelling, dancing, fighting blacks, who seemed only intent on a few minutes’ maniac-like orgies.

Standing calm spectators of the scene, Hans observed the Zulus who had been his fellow-prisoners. Though nearly black in colour, these men were unlike the negro in features, and seemed altogether a superior race. Though he had so lately been engaged in combats against the Zulus, yet when Hans saw these men thus calmly awaiting their death, he was desirous of saving them.

“See those men standing near the mast,” said Hans: “they are Zulus. I should like, to save their lives.”

“How can you do that?” inquired the lieutenant. “Will you let them come in the boat?” inquired Hans.

“Yes, if they can get in; but I cannot allow the boat to go near the slaver: she would be swamped in a minute, and all our lives would be sacrificed.”

“I will try to make them understand,” said Hans, “if you will help them into the boat if they swim to us.” Saying this, Hans called in a shrill voice, “Mena-bo,” at which the Zulus started up, and looked eagerly in the direction of the boats, which they could just perceive by aid of the light given by the burning ship. Having thus called their attention to him, Hans called in the Zulu language, “Jump into the water, and swim to me, or the fire will soon kill you.”

The Zulus for a few seconds seemed to hesitate, but looking round at the fire, which was rapidly closing round them, the three men stepped on the side of the vessel, and jumped feet first into the sea. In an instant afterwards their heads appeared above water, as they swam rapidly towards the boats, into which they were dragged by the sailors.

“The men are all mad,” said one of the Zulus to Hans. “They put fire to the ship to free themselves, and now they will not put water to the fire.”

“Are the white men dead?” inquired Hans, referring to the sailors who had been attacked in the hold.

“Yes, and they would be cold by now were they not kept warm by the fire… It is all fire where we were.”

The escape of the Zulus had either not been noticed by the negroes, or they supposed it was an act of desperation on the part of these men; for no notice was taken of it, the negroes still continuing their frantic proceedings. The slaver was evidently burning inside more than out. The flames every now and then shot up, whilst at two places in her hull they had forced a way out. Every now and then there was a hissing sound, as though water had fallen on a red-hot surface, and steam in abundance came up from below; the flames again arose, and after a time the same hissing occurred.

“I believe,” said the lieutenant, “the flames have eaten a way through her somewhere, and the water is entering her; that is what causes the steam. It is so; look! she is settling down.”

As he thus called attention to the slaver, all eyes were turned to her. The flames, which had previously risen half-way up her masts, suddenly ceased, whilst a sheet of white steam arose in their stead. The vessel’s hull gradually descended; and the boat’s crew had but just time to obey the command to “pull and together,” and to move the two boats a safer distance from the ship, when the beautifully-modelled slaver, her yelling cargo of demons, and her mutilated bodies, sank together beneath the smooth surface of the ocean. Though she went down gradually till within a few inches of the water’s edge, she yet raised a large wave by her submergence, which lifted the boats, and caused them to dance for some minutes. The darkness was fearful after the late glare of the burning ship; and so awful was the sight of this crowd of human beings, hurried into a next existence whilst their spirits were stirred with feelings of murder and rapine, that a dead silence of near a minute prevailed in the two boats, the sailors even being awe-struck at the catastrophe.

The voice of the lieutenant first broke the silence, and it seemed to all a relief to hear a human being speak.

“I will light a lantern, that we may keep together,” said the lieutenant, “and to show any poor struggling wretch, who may not have gone to the bottom, that there is help at hand. Keep near us with your boat, Jones, and we’ll pull off in ten minutes.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” was the reply. “There won’t be any come up again alive. A sinking ship takes down her crew with her.”

Allowing about fifteen minutes for a chance of saving a life, during which time the lieutenant pulled over the spot beneath which the slaver had sunk, he consulted a compass which he had placed in the boat, and taking the rudder, directed the men to arrange themselves at the oars, and to commence their long pull towards Simon’s Bay.

“If no wind comes against us,” said the officer, “and the sea remains smooth, we shall reach Simon’s Bay by steady pulling before to-morrow night: so give way, men, and let’s make the most of smooth water.”

Chapter Twenty Five.
Off in the Boats – The Storm – A fair Wind – A Council – They Steer for Islands – Land

It was soon found that a lantern was not necessary to enable the second boat to follow that in which were the lieutenant and Hans. The singular and beautiful phosphorescent light caused by the dipping of the oars and the passage of the boat through the water was so brilliant, that even the faces of the crew were visible every now and then to each other, whilst a long star-spangled wake trailed behind the boats, and showed long after, where they had passed. To the sailors accustomed to traverse these regions there was nothing new in this sight, though they fully appreciated the advantages of it as a means of keeping a straight course, and of being able to follow the leading boat. To Hans and the Zulus it was a subject of wonder and admiration. The latter in some manner connected it with the burning ship, and seemed to consider that the latter had been the cause of the apparent fire in the water. The attention of the crews of both boats was, however, soon drawn to the brilliancy of the ocean by a shoal of porpoises, which, rushing along near the surface of the water, occasionally rolled half over as they took breath, and again pursued their pathless course.

“We shall have a wind against us before long, I fear,” said the lieutenant, “for those porpoises usually go up towards where the wind will blow from.”

“Can they feel the wind when in the water, and before it blows?” said Hans.

“I don’t know what they feel,” replied the lieutenant; “I only know that when they swim in calm weather in any direction, the wind usually comes from that direction in a few hours. Give way, men; we’ll near the coast as much as possible before a wind comes, and the current is strongest about ten miles off land.”

“What makes this current run down the coast?” inquired Hans. “Water won’t run up hill, at least on shore. Is it lower at the Cape than up by Natal?”

“Well I don’t know why it is exactly,” said the lieutenant; “but it has something to do with the trade winds. As long as I know where the current runs, I am satisfied; I don’t trouble myself about why it runs. Here comes a breeze, and right in our teeth. It must not blow too hard, or we shall have some difficulty in keeping our course.”

The sea, which had previously been as calm as a pond, soon became broken even with the slight breeze that was blowing. The wind and current being opposed to each other caused the waves to break more than they otherwise would have done, and seen from the small boat, these waves soon began to appear dangerously large. As the breeze gradually increased, it was found too dangerous to force the boat against the seas, and thus she was obliged to change her direction and go with them. Orders were given for the men to nail up some tarpaulin round the stem, and to sit close together, so as to keep out as much as possible any water that might otherwise come in as the seas broke over or near the boats. Men were also told off for baling, and thus every precaution was taken to prevent the boats from being swamped.

If the breeze did not freshen, there seemed every probability of the boats keeping afloat; but as a constant wind would for a time cause the seas to increase, the sailors became very anxious, and began to strain their eyes in all directions for the chance of catching sight of a ship or land. The course in which they were was not far out of that of homeward-bound vessels, or those which might be bound from India to the Cape, and thus there was a fair prospect of being picked up. Still the night was so dark that no vessel without lights could be seen, unless within a stone’s throw. Thus daylight was anxiously looked for.

The day at length dawned, and a beautiful fresh morning it was. A breeze which in a ship would have been only sufficient to fill all her sails, was to the small boats too much to be pleasant or safe. Still by the aid of repeated baling, they were kept comparatively free of water. No sign of a vessel, however, appeared, and it approached noon, when the lieutenant, arranging his sextant, prepared to find out where he was. After waiting several minutes, he was at length satisfied that he had obtained the sun’s meridian altitude, and having from this deduced the latitude, he announced that the boat was not more than thirty miles from land, though what part of the land she was opposite he could not exactly tell. “My chronometer is not a very trustworthy one, and this knocking about in the boat may have unsettled it; but if it is near right, I fancy we are actually west of the Cape; and this is possible, if the current has been very strong.”

During the day the breeze somewhat abated, and by sunset it was again nearly calm. The direction in which he was to steer was now a matter of considerable uncertainty to the lieutenant: whether he should place any trust in his chronometer, or steer according to what he believed his true course. Considering the rough use to which his chronometer had been subjected, he decided that he would steer a westerly course, keeping a little north, so as to make the Cape, and thus reach Simon’s Bay.

Soon after the sun had set, a breeze sprung up from the north-east, and this being nearly favourable, a small sail was set on each boat, and they by this aid dashed merrily onwards. For the first few hours of the night the wind was not too strong for the boats to carry a sail, but it afterwards came on to blow so hard that it was no longer possible to do so. The sea, however, was not, even with this breeze, nearly so dangerous as it had been when the wind and current had been opposed to each other; and though it was necessary to keep the boats before the wind, yet both were comparatively dry.

“If this wind lasts,” said the lieutenant to Hans, “we shall be carried far past the Cape, and how to regain it I don’t know, for we shall have the current dead against us, and we have neither water nor provisions for a long voyage. There is only one cask of water, and the biscuit is, I fear, wet with salt water, so that our provisions are short; but there is no help for us; we must go on as long as this wind and this sea last, and trust to being picked up, though I believe we may be three hundred miles from the Cape.”

During the whole of the night the boats kept a westerly course, and before the wind. As morning dawned, the horizon was anxiously scanned in order to find a ship, but the ocean seemed deserted, and mid-day came without any signs of a vessel. The officer again tried to find his latitude, and decided that he was still upwards of twenty miles south of the Cape. From an observation he had made in the morning, he also concluded that, allowing every likely error for the chronometer, he must yet be many degrees west of the Cape, and was drifting rapidly westward. Having come to this conclusion, he signalled for the second boat to come close alongside, when he said —

“Now, my lads, we have drifted so far from the Cape that I fear with these small boats, and such a sea as we may have to meet, we can’t reach the Cape before our provisions and water are all done. We have, then, two chances: we may hang about here, and take our chance of being picked up by a vessel, or we can run on with all speed, and try to make some islands which lie out westward. I’m not sure we can get water on those islands, but we may do so, and I believe they have no inhabitants. As this is a question you are all concerned in, I’ll hear what you have to say.”

The sailors talked among themselves for some minutes, and then Jones, who was in charge of the second boat, said —

“We think, sir, that we should make sail for the islands. We don’t lose our chance of sighting a ship by doing so, though it be a bit away from the outward-bound course; but if a gale comes up, we just go down in these cockle-shells, and that’s all about it. I have heerd from whalers that there is water in some of them islands, and any way we get a bit of a rest, and with our boats we can go out and look for ships when the weather suits. We think, sir, that’s our best chance.”

“I am of the same opinion,” said the lieutenant. “Has any one else any thing to say?”

“We all think that’s our best chance, sir,” said several of the men.

“Give way then, my lads,” said their officer. “We ought not to be more than two days reaching the islands. We have guns, and so ought to be able to get birds or seals; and if we can only find water, we may get on well.”

The north-east wind, which assumes almost the character of a trade wind off the Cape, and which blows sometimes for weeks together, continued steadily for the next two days; and the boats during part of the time being able to carry sail, made rapid progress through the water, so that on the morning of the third day all hands were eagerly on the look out for land.

It was about ten o’clock in the morning that Jones, in the second boat, called the lieutenant’s attention to what he thought was land about south-west of them. The telescope being used to discover what this was, revealed the fact of land, which was rather low, and was estimated at not more than ten miles’ distance. The boat’s course having been altered to enable them to make direct for this land or island, as it was known it must be, the lieutenant called to Jones to bring his boat close, in order to tell him what should be now done.

“I’ll take the lead, Jones, and we must have a man standing up in each boat to look out for broken water. I think it will be better to go to the leeward of the island, and land there, unless we can see some kind of a bay. Don’t you follow too close, for in case we strike a rock, or are swamped, you must be far enough off not to fall in the same way.”

“I’ve heerd, sir,” replied Jones, “that these islands are surrounded by long sea-weeds that make boat navigation rather difficult; but if you know where the channel is, then you are all right, as weeds and rocks don’t come near the surface there.”

As the boats neared the island, the lieutenant used his telescope in the endeavour to discover if any ships were there, for he believed it possible that whalers might have made use of this island, as afterwards he found had been the case. The wind seemed to have blown itself out towards mid-day, and shortly after it fell quite calm, and as the boats neared the island, the sea had considerably diminished.

Upon reaching within about a mile of the shore, the surface of the sea began to be sprinkled with sea-weed in abundance, which was some of it floating, and other portions evidently growing from the rocks beneath. Advancing slowly and cautiously, the lieutenant directed the man who was steering, and thus threading his way through thick masses of weed, approached sufficiently close to the shore to see where the surf was breaking. Having noted a headland jutting out into the sea, the sailor, from his knowledge of the general form of coasts, concluded that behind this he would very probably find a bay, and such proved to be the case. This bay was covered at the water-line with a white sand, up which the waves washed; but there seemed no sign of rocks near this, and thus it appeared in every way suitable for a landing. Steering the boat carefully round the promontory, the lieutenant made for this beach, and watching his opportunity ran the boat up, so that as the sailors jumped out, and seized her to haul her up, they were high and dry as the waves receded. The second boat, being thus guided, followed the example of the leader, and was also securely beached, the men jumping out, and being rejoiced to stretch their legs once more, after being cramped on board their small boats for so many days.

Chapter Twenty Six.
Game found on the Islands – Want of Water – Water at Last – Sea-lions – Fish and Eggs – A Ship – Rescued and Carried to Simon’s Bay – The Traveller among the Cockneys

“Carry the boats up high and dry,” said the lieutenant; “out with the sails and oars; cover them with the tarpaulin; then get out the water casks and biscuit bag. Let’s see what provisions we have.”

These orders were rapidly obeyed by the sailors, who never for a moment forgot their discipline, and acted just as though they were on board ship. The water was found to be very low, there being scarcely more than two pints for each man. At this all looked blank, for so essential is water that it is a matter of certain death, at least to a great many, to be without water for many days. Having divided the biscuit into as many portions as there were men, the lieutenant gave each his share, saying, “We shall be able to keep this biscuit for any voyage we may make; for on this island we shall get birds. We can shoot as many birds as we require for food, so be careful of the biscuit.” Whilst these arrangements were being made, the Zulus had been wandering along the shore, looking at the ground in various directions, and pointing out to each other something which had attracted their attention. Returning to Hans, who alone understood their language, they said, “Amasondo m’culu kona” (“There are large footprints there.”)

“Of what?” inquired Hans.

“We don’t know,” replied the Zulus. “The game lives in the water that makes these footmarks.”

Hans, guided by the Zulus, went to the shore where the footprints were visible, and there saw a spoor which to him was quite new. Several footprints of a large animal were to be seen, and near these some circular cuts in the sand, as though an arc of a circle had been traced with an instrument. Though well acquainted with the spoor of all South African animals, yet Hans could not remember any similar to this. The Zulus, however, with a quickness of perception often possessed by semi-wild men, pointed out to Hans that there were only marks of two feet, then that the circular scrapes were marked over these footmarks. One of the Zulus then lay down on the sand, and dragged himself along by his hands only, thus indicating that the creature must progress much in that manner. Still, neither Hans nor the Zulus had ever seen any creature at all like this in South Africa.

Returning to the sailors, Hans asked the lieutenant if he knew of any creature that had only two legs, that was large and heavy, and lived in the sea, but could come on shore.

“Yes, seals, and sea-lions,” replied the lieutenant.

“Then they come here,” said Hans; “there is spoor of the creatures on the beach.”

“Then we are safe for food, and that is something: for we shall not starve as long as seals or sea-lions can be captured or shot. As soon as all is made snug here, we’ll examine the island.”

In half an hour every item of the stores being safely secured, the lieutenant left three men in charge of the boats and stores, and two others with directions to collect all the dry sea-weed and pieces of wood or reed that they could find. These were to be heaped together to make a fire, for great numbers of birds were seen flying about, this island seeming to be a favourite resort or breeding-place for many sea-birds.

The lieutenant, with Hans and the Zulus, and the remaining men, went in shore to examine all that was to be seen. The island was rocky and barren, and destitute of vegetation. There seemed no stream or rivulet, or fresh water of any description, and no living creatures except birds. The centre of the island was elevated about three hundred feet, and from the top of this a good view, it was expected, might be obtained all around. Ascending to this plateau, the lieutenant and Hans were both occupied in looking round the horizon for some signs of a vessel, and the latter was therefore startled by hearing one of the Zulus in a loud voice exclaim “Amanzi!”

“Water!” shouted Hans; “where?”

“There it is,” said the Zulu, pointing to a hollow piece of ground which they had passed, and in which there was a large rocky basin about thirty feet across, and in which there was water. A rush was at once made to the place by the whole party. Officer and sailors, Zulus and Hans, were each equally interested. Upon reaching the side of this pool, or reservoir, a clear mass of water some six feet deep was visible; it was evidently the deposit of rain water which had drained from the neighbouring slopes. Stooping over this, Hans reached his hat into the pool, and bringing it up full of water, drank a few mouthfuls, and announced it to be fresh. A loud hurrah from all the sailors answered this statement, and several of the men immediately employed several ingenious methods to obtain a good drink of the fresh water. A temperance advocate would have been delighted, could he have seen these stalwart, hardy men so anxious to obtain merely cold water, yet not one man present would have been willing to exchange this well of fresh water for its quantity in wine or spirits; for every experienced man knows that there is nothing which quells the thirst so effectually as water or tea, the latter being essentially water, merely flavoured by a herb.

“There are very heavy rains here,” said Hans, “and this pool is the result of them. We shall not want for water.”

“No; we are favoured,” said the lieutenant; “for there must be times in the dry season when no water is here. We have sea-weed for fuel, we can get birds and sea-lions for food, and thus we can live for some time. We must then try to get to the Cape.”

“Ah! I am afraid that much evil may happen before I can get away from here and regain my people,” said Hans. “They must all think me dead, and so I am anxious to return among them as soon as possible.”

“Yes, I can fancy that you are,” said the officer; “and so am I anxious to get to my ship. We shall have some more work up the coast, I expect, with these slavers, though it does not pay when their ships are burnt. However, we must be satisfied at having reached some land, and found food and water. If we had not obtained water here, we might have dug each other’s graves. We will go to that peak and look round, and judge of the size of our island. I should like to go all round it before I return to the boats – so come along.”

The whole party ascended the highest peak on the island, from which a view was obtained all round. The island was very small, and appeared alone. It was evidently a volcanic production, and might possibly be of no great age. In many places the birds had congregated in such numbers that they had covered the ground with manure, the thin soil thus produced was merely waiting for some seeds to be brought there by strong-winged birds which had swallowed them in distant regions, and would then drop them in his locality, where, taking root, they would produce the first vegetation.

After scanning the horizon with his telescope, the naval officer examined the shore, which was visible from this peak nearly all round the island. Scarcely had he directed it to one part of the shore nearly on the opposite side of the island to that on which he had landed, than giving the telescope to Hans, he told him to look at the shore and say what he saw. Hans, taking the telescope, directed it at the spot indicated, and immediately exclaimed, “There is wilde (game) there. What are they?”

“They are sea-lions,” said the lieutenant, “and we can eat them, and can make tents out of their skins. There are scores of them, and we must manage to shoot them.”

“Are they very shy?” inquired Hans.

“I think not. They don’t know much about men on these islands, I expect, but still we had better stalk them.”

“Yes, that must be done, and let no one shoot who is not certain where his bullet will go to at a hundred yards.”

“Now shooting these creatures is more in your line than mine, as you are an elephant hunter,” said the lieutenant; “so you just arrange the matter, and tell me what to do, and I’ll direct the men.”

“I don’t know any thing of the animal,” said Hans, “and each animal ought to be hunted differently, so I cannot give safe advice; but I think we must approach them along shore, for if we go down this way they will smell us.”

“That’s a thing I should not have thought of, unless you had told me,” replied the lieutenant. “Of course if we go to them from windward they will smell us. Very well; we’ll go along shore, and what then?”

“We can stalk them then, and I think at eighty yards we ought to be able to kill them at a single shot. Perhaps, too, these creatures don’t know what the report of a gun is, and we may reload and refire before they think of escaping.”

“We’ll try that plan, and so perhaps only two or three of us had better go after them, or the others may be seen. Let us take two men, and leave the others to gather eggs.”

Hans and the officer, with two seamen, at once started after the sea-lions, and taking the coast-line found that on the rocks there were plenty of oysters, which were fixed to the solid rock, but could be opened on the spot. Hans was quite at home in this stalking expedition, but found much fault both with the lieutenant and the sailors. The latter, especially, would speak every now and then, and seemed not to understand in the least the signals which Hans made to them. In spite, however, of the clumsy manner in which the sailors and their officer practised stalking, yet the sea-lions were approached to within eighty yards without being alarmed. At this distance the hunters were concealed by some rocks, and Hans now signalled that the four should fire. One of the sailors, however, stopped Hans as he was raising his musket, and whispered —

“Them brutes, sir, can only hop, and not very fast either. Won’t it be better to board them, and shoot them at close quarters? I and my mate can’t make certain of hitting at this distance?”

Hans, who did not understand every word of this, but comprehended the drift of the speech, replied —

“You and your companion run forward, as soon as I have fired; then you can try your plan, I mine.”

This plan being agreed upon, Hans took steady aim at a monster that was lying apparently asleep on the beach, and fired, whilst the lieutenant selected another victim. Upon the report of the gun being heard all the animals raised their heads, and began with a most awkward motion struggling to reach the water. The sailor had been quite correct as regards the speed at which the lions could move, for without difficulty the sailors overtook them long before they reached the water, and each putting the muzzle of his gun close to the head of one of the lions, killed it at a single shot. The monster that Hans had wounded had almost reached the sea, when noting the success of the sailors’ method of attack, he ran up to this creature, and discharged his rapidly-loaded gun into its head. Thus three lions were killed, the lieutenant having either missed his aim, or wounded his lion so slightly that the creature easily escaped to the water before he could again discharge his gun.