CHAPTER III.
OUTWARD BOUND.
HOW, trembling lest we should be discovered, we left Eastbourne by traintwo hours later--Kouaga joining the train at Polegate so as to avoidnotice--how the Grand Vizier of Mo purchased our travelling necessitiesin London; how we travelled to Liverpool by the night mail, and how weembarked upon the steamer _Gambia_, it is unnecessary to relate indetail. Suffice it to say that within twenty-four hours of meeting thebig negro we were safely on board the splendid mail-steamer whereeverything was spick and span. Kouaga had engaged a cabin for ourexclusive use, and the captain himself had evidently ascertained thatOmar was a person of importance, for in passing us on deck he paused tochat affably, and express a hope that we should find the voyage apleasant one.
"Your coloured servant has told me your destination," he said, addressingOmar. "We can't land you there on account of the surf, but I understand aboat from shore will be on the look-out. If it isn't, well, you'll haveto go on to Cape Coast Castle."
"The boat will be in readiness," Omar said smiling. "If it isn't, thosein charge will pay dearly for it. You know what I mean."
The Captain laughed, drew his finger across his throat, and nodded.
"Yes," he said. "I've heard that in your country life is held cheap. Ifancy I'd rather be on my bridge than a resident in the Naya's capital.But I see I'm wanted. Good-bye," and he hurried away to shout some orderto the men who were busy stowing the last portion of the cargo.
As we leaned over the rail watching the bustle on board the steam tenderthat lay bobbing up and down at our side, we contemplated theconsternation of old Trigger when he found us missing. No doubt a hue andcry would be at once raised, but as several persons we knew had seen uswalking towards the Belle Tout, it would, without a doubt, be surmisedthat we had been drowned while bathing. The only thing we regretted wasthat we had not left some portion of our clothing on the beach to giveverisimilitude to the suggestion. However, we troubled ourselves not onewhit about the past. I was glad to escape from the doom of the gas-litcellar, and was looking forward with keen anticipation to a new life inthat mystic country, Africa.
At last there was shouting from the bridge, the tender cast off, the bellin the engine-room gave four strokes, the signal for full-speed ahead,and ere long we were steaming past that clanging beacon the Bell Buoy,and heading for the open sea. The breeze began to whistle around us, thekeen-eyed old pilot tightened his scarf around his throat, and carefullywe sped along past the Skerries until we slowed off Holyhead, where heshook hands with the captain, and with a hearty "good-bye" swung himselfover the bulwarks into the heavy old boat that had come alongside. Thuswas severed the last link that bound us to England.
Standing up in his boat he waved us a farewell, while our captain, hishands behind him, took charge of the ship and shouted an order.
Ting-ting-ting-ting sounded the bell below, and a moment later we weremoving away into the fast falling night. For a long time we remained ondeck with Kouaga, watching the distant shore of Wales fade into the banksof mist, while now and then a brilliant light would flash its warning tous and then die out again as suddenly as it had appeared. We had plentyof passengers on board, mostly merchants and their families going out tothe "Coast," one or two Government officials, engineers and prospectors,and during the first night all seemed bustle and confusion. Stewards wereordered here and there, loud complaints were heard on every side, threatswere made to report trivialities to the captain, and altogether there wasplenty to amuse us.
Next day, however, when we began to bow gracefully to the heavy swell ofthe Atlantic the majority of the grumblers were glad enough to seek thecomfort and privacy of their berths and to remain there, for during thetwo days that followed the waves ran mountains high, the wind howled, thebulkheads creaked and the vessel made plunges so unexpectedly that tostand was almost impossible. The great waves seemed to rush upon us as weploughed our way through them, sometimes burying our bows in foam and atothers striking us and lifting us high up, the shock almost causing us tostop. The roar of the tempest seemed deafening, the ship's bell tolledwith regularity, but no one appeared in the saloon, and it seemed as ifthe cook in his galley had little, if anything, to do.
"Never mind," I heard one officer say to another, as they lounged outsidetheir cabins off duty. "It'll give 'em their sea legs, and the weatherwill be all right the other side of the Bay."
Both laughed. Sailors seem to enjoy the discomforts of passengers.
During those two days I think we were the only passengers who spent thewhole day on deck. Kouaga was a poor sailor and was in his bunk horriblybad. When we visited him the whites of his eyes seemed perfectly green.
This was my first taste of a storm, and I must confess that I did notenjoy it. I was not ill, but experienced a feeling the reverse ofcomfortable. Through all, however, I congratulated myself that I hadactually left England, and was about to commence life in a new land. Theofficer whose words I had overheard proved a prophet, for after threedays of bad weather we ran into blue water, calm as a mill-pond, the sunshone out warm and bright, as quickly as the spirits of the passengershad fallen they rose again, and a round of gaiety commenced thatcontinued unbroken until we left the vessel.
We touched at Funchal, a pretty town of white villas half hidden by thesurrounding greenery, and with others went ashore, but we were not theremore than a couple of hours, for soon the Blue-Peter was run to ourmasthead as signal that the ship was about to sail, and we were compelledto re-embark. Then a gun was fired on board, the crowd of small craftaround us that had put out for the purpose of selling the passengersbananas, live birds, etc., sheered off, and very soon we had restartedon our southward voyage.
Ere long, having passed the snow-capped peak of Teneriffe of which we hadheard so much at Trigger's, we entered the region of the trade-winds, andthe steamer, aided by its sails that were now spread, held rapidly on itscourse rounding Cape Verd. For a day we anchored off Bathurst, thensteamed away past the many rocky islands off the coast of Guinea until wetouched Free Town, the capital of that unhealthy British colony SierraLeone. Anchoring there, we discharged some cargo, resuming our voyage ina calm sea and perfect weather, and carefully avoiding the dangerousshoals of St. Ann, we passed within sight of Sherboro Island, a Britishpossession, and also sighted Cape Mount, which Omar told me was in theindependent republic of Liberia. For several days after this we remainedout of sight of land until one afternoon, just about tea-time, thecaptain came up to us, saying--
"We shall make the mouth of the Lahou River in about two hours, so you'dbetter be prepared to leave. I'll keep a good look-out for your boat.Have you had a pleasant voyage?"
"Very," we both replied in one voice.
"Glad of that," he said, and turning to Omar added, "you'll look after meif ever I get up country as far as Mo, won't you?"
"Of course," my friend answered laughing. "If you come you shall have aright royal welcome. Come at any time. You'll have nothing to fear whenonce inside the borders of my mother's country."
"Ah, well. Perhaps I'll come some day, when I retire on my pension andset up as an African chief--eh?"
We all laughed, and he ascended the steps again to the bridge.
Kouaga, in the meantime, was busy collecting our things, givinggratuities to the stewards, and otherwise making preparations to leave.For over two hours we eagerly watched in the direction of the shore,being assisted by a crowd of passengers who had by this time learnt thatwe were to be taken off.
The shore which slowly came into view as our eager eyes scanned thehorizon was the Ivory Coast, but the sun sank in a glorious blaze ofcrimson, and dusk crept on, yet the captain, whose glasses continuallyswept the sea, could distinguish no boat approaching us.
"I'm afraid," he shouted to us from the bridge, "their look-out is notwell kept. We'll have to take you along to Cape Coast, after all."
"Why not fire a gun, Captain?" suggested Kouaga, his words beinginterpreted by Omar.
"Very well," he answered, and turning to the officer, he gave orders thatthe signal gun should be fired three times at intervals.
Presently there was a puff of white smoke and the first loud report rangout, making the vessel quiver beneath us. We waited, listening, but therewas no response. The light quickly faded, night cast her veil of darknessover the sea, but we still stood in for the coast.
Again, about half-past nine, the gun belched forth a tongue of flame, andthe report sounded far over the silent waters. All was excitement ondeck, for it was a matter of speculation whether an answering shout orgunshot could be heard above the roar and throbbing of the engines. Ten,eleven o'clock passed, and presently the third gun was exploded sosuddenly that the ladies were startled. Again we listened, but couldhear nothing. Kouaga fumed and cursed the evil-spirit for our misfortune,while Omar, finding that we were to be taken to Cape Coast Castle,imparted to me his fear that the fortnight's delay it must necessarilyentail, would be fatal to his mother's plans.
We were hanging over the taffrail together gazing moodily into thedarkness, having given up all hope of getting ashore at the Lahou River,when suddenly about half a mile from us we saw a flash, and the report ofa rifle reached us quite distinctly, followed by distant shouting.
"There they are!" cried Omar excitedly. "They've hailed us at last!"
But ere the words had fallen from his lips we heard the bell in theengine-room ringing, and next second the steam was shut off and wegradually hove to.
Kouaga was at our side almost immediately, and we found ourselvessurrounded by passengers taking leave of us. Our boxes were brought up bya couple of sailors, and after about a quarter of an hour's wait, duringwhich time the vessel rose and fell with the swell, the craft that hadhailed us loomed up slowly in the darkness, amid the excited jabber ofher demoniac-looking crew.
She was a large native vessel, brig-rigged, and as dirty andforbidding-looking a craft as you could well see anywhere. Kouaga hailedone of the black, half-clad men on board, receiving a cheery answer, andpresently, having taken leave of the captain and those around us, weclimbed over the bulwarks and sprang upon the deck of the mysteriousship.
As Omar alighted the whole crew made obeisance to him, afterwardscrowding around me, examining me by the lurid light of the torches theyhad ignited.
Very quickly, however, several boxes belonging to Kouaga were lowered,the moorings were cast off, and slowly the great mail steamer with itslong line of brilliantly-lit ports looking picturesque in the night,moved onward.
"Good-bye," shouted a voice from the steamer.
"Good-bye," I responded, and as the steamer's bell again rang out, "fullspeed ahead," I knew that the last tie that bound us to Europeancivilization was severed.
The Great White Queen: A Tale of Treasure and Treason Page 3