University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.

Byron.

Captain Truck was in a sound sleep as soon as his
head touched the pillow. With the exception of the ladies,
the others soon followed his example; and as the people
were excessively wearied, and the night was so tranquil,
ere long only a single pair of eyes were open on deck: those
of the man at the wheel. The wind died away, and even
this worthy was not innocent of nodding at his post.

Under such circumstances, it will occasion no great surprise
that the cabin was aroused next morning with the
sudden and starling information that the land was close
aboard the ship. Every one hurried on deck, where, sure
enough, the dreaded coast of Africa was seen, with a palpable
distinctness, within two miles of the vessel. It presented
a long broken line of sand-hills, unrelieved by a tree,
or by so few as almost to merit this description, and with a
hazy back-ground of remote mountains to the north-east.
The margin of the actual coast nearest to the ship was indented
with bays; and even rocks appeared in places; but
the general character of the scene was that of a fierce and
burning sterility. On this picture of desolation all stood
gazing in awe and admiration for some minutes, as the day
gradually brightened, until a cry arose from forward, of “a
ship!”

“Whereaway?” sternly demanded Captain Truck; for
the sudden and unexpected appearance of this dangerous
coast had awakened all that was forbidding and severe in
the temperament of the old master; “whereaway, sir?”

“On the larboard quarter, sir, and at anchor.”

“She is ashore!” exclaimed half-a-dozen voices at the

same instant, just as the words came from the last speaker.
The glass soon settled this important point. At the distance
of about a league astern of them were, indeed, to be seen
the spars of a ship, with the hull looming on the sands, in
a way to leave no doubt of her being a wreck. It was the
first impression of all, that this, at last, was the Foam; but
Captain Truck soon announced the contrary.

“It is a Swede, or a Dane,” he said, “by his rig and his
model. A stout, solid, compact sea-boat, that is high and
dry on the sands, looking as if he had been built there.
He does not appear even to have bilged, and most of his
sails, and all of his yards, are in their places. Not a living
soul is to be seen about her! Ha! there are signs of tents
made of sails on shore, and broken bales of goods! Her
people have been seized and carried into the desert, as usual,
and this is a fearful hint that we must keep the Montauk off
the bottom. Turn-to the people, Mr. Leach, and get up
your sheers that we may step our jury-masts at once; the
smallest breeze on the land would drive us ashore, without
any after-sail.”

While the mates and the crew set about completing the
work they had prepared the previous day, Captain Truck
and his passengers passed the time in ascertaining all they
could concerning the wreck, and the reasons of their being
themselves in a position so very different from what they
had previously believed.

As respects the first, little more could be ascertained;
she lay absolutely high and dry on a hard sandy beach,
where she had probably been cast during the late gale, and
sufficient signs were made out by the captain, to prove to
him that she had been partly plundered. More than this
could not be discovered at that distance, and the work of the
Montauk was too urgent to send a boat manned with her
own people to examine. Mr. Blunt, Mr. Sharp, Mr. Monday,
and the servants of the two former, however, volunteering
to pull the cutter, it was finally decided to look more
closely into the facts, Captain Truck himself taking charge
of the expedition.—While the latter is getting ready, a word
of explanation will suffice to tell the reader the reason why
the Montauk had fallen so much to leeward.

The ship being so near the coast, it became now very

obvious she was driven by a current that set along the land,
but which, it was probable, had set towards it more in the
offing. The imperceptible drift between the observation of
the previous day and the discovery of the coast, had sufficed
to carry the vessel a great distance; and to this simple
cause, coupled perhaps with some neglect in the steerage
during the past night, was her present situation to be
solely attributed. Just at this moment, the little air there
was came from the land, and by keeping her head off shore,
Captain Truck entertained no doubt of his being able to
escape the calamity that had befallen the other ship in the
fury of the gale. A wreck is always a matter of so much
interest with mariners, therefore, that taking all these things
into view, he had come to the determination we have mentioned,
of examining into the history of the one in sight, so
far as circumstances permitted.

The Montauk carried three boats; the launch, a large,
safe, and well-constructed craft, which stood in the usual
chucks between the foremast and mainmast; a jolly-boat,
and a cutter. It was next to impossible to get the first into
the water, deprived as the ship was of its mainmast; but
the other hanging at davits, one on each quarter, were easily
lowered. The packets seldom carry any arms beyond
a light gun to fire signals with, the pistols of the master,
and perhaps a fowling-piece or two. Luckily the passengers
were better provided: all the gentlemen had pistols,
Mr. Monday and Mr. Dodge excepted, if indeed they properly
belonged to this category, as Captain Truck would say,
and most of them had also fowling-pieces. Although a careful
examination of the coast with the glasses offered no signs
of the presence of any danger from enemies, these arms
were carefully collected, loaded, and deposited in the boats,
in order to be prepared for the worst. Provisions and water
were also provided, and the party were about to proceed.

Captain Truck and one or two of the adventurers were
still on the deck, when Eve, with that strange love of excitement
and adventure that often visits the most delicate
spirits, expressed an idle regret that she could not make one
in the expedition.

“There is something so strange and wild in landing on

an African desert,” she said; “and I think a near view
of the wreck would repay us, Mademoiselle, for the hazard.”

The young men hesitated between their desire to have
such a companion, and their doubts of the prudence of the
step; but Captain Truck declared there could be no risk,
and Mr. Effingham consenting, the whole plan was altered
so as to include the ladies; for there was so much pleasure
in varying the monotony of a calm, and escaping the confinement
of ship, that everybody entered into the new arrangement
with zeal and spirit.

A single whip was rigged on the fore-yeard, a chair was
slung, and in ten minutes both ladies were floating on the
ocean in the cutter. This boat pulled six oars, which were
manned by the servants of the two Messrs. Effinghams,
Mr. Blunt, and Mr. Sharp, together with the two latter gentlemen
in person. Mr. Effingham steered. Captain Truck
had the jolly-boat, of which he pulled an oar himself, aided
by Saunders, Mr. Monday, and Sir George Templemore;
the mates and the regular crew being actively engaged in
rigging their jury-mast. Mr. Dodge declined being of the
party, feeding himself with the hope that the present would
be a favourable occasion to peep into the state-rooms, to run
his eye over forgotten letters and papers, and otherwise to
increase the general stock of information of the editor of
the Active Inquirer.

“Look to your chains, and see all clear for a run of the
anchors, Mr. Leach, should you set within a mile of the
shore,” called out the captain, as they pulled off from the
vessel's side. “The ship is drifting along the land, but the
wind you have will hardly do more than meet the send of
the sea, which is on shore: should any thing go wrong,
show an ensign at the head of the jury-stick forward.”

The mate waved his hand, and the adventurers passed
without the sound of the voice. It was a strange sensation
to most of those in the boats, to find themselves in their
present situation. Eve and Mademoiselle Viefville, in particular,
could scarcely credit their senses, when they found
the egg-shells that held them heaving and setting like bubbles
on those long sluggish swells, which had seemed of so
little consequence while in the ship, but which now resembled
the heavy respirations of a leviathan. The boats,

indeed, though always gliding onward, impelled by the oars,
appeared at moments to be sent helplessly back and forth,
like playthings of the mighty deep, and it was some minutes
before either obtained a sufficient sense of security
to enjoy her situation. As they receded fast from the Montauk,
too, their situation seemed still more critical; and with
all her sex's love of excitement, Eve heartily repented of
her undertaking before they had gone a mile. The gentlemen,
however, were all in good spirits, and as the boats
kept near each other, Captain Truck enlivening their way
with his peculiar wit, and Mr. Effingham, who was influenced
by a motive of humanity in consenting to come, being
earnest and interested, Eve soon began to entertain other
ideas.

As they drew near the end of their little expedition, entirely
new feelings got the mastery of the whole party. The
solitary and gloomy grandeur of the coasts, the sublime
sterility,—for even naked sands may become sublime by
their vastness,—the heavy moanings of the ocean on the
beach, and the entire spectacle of the solitude, blended as
it was with the associations of Africa, time, and the changes
of history, united to produce sensations of a pleasing melancholy.
The spectacle of the ship, bringing with it the
images of European civilization, as it lay helpless and deserted
on the sands, too, heightened all.

This vessel, beyond a question, had been driven up on a
sea during the late gale, at a point where the water was of
sufficient depth to float her, until within a few yards of the
very spot where she now lay; Captain Truck giving the
following probable history of the affair:

“On all sandy coasts,” he said, “the return waves that
are cast on the beach form a bar, by washing back with
them a portion of the particles. This bar is usually within
thirty or forty fathoms of the shore, and there is frequently
sufficient water within it to float a ship. As this bar, however,
prevents the return of all the water, on what is called
the under-tow, narrow channels make from point to point,
through which this excess of the element escapes. These
channels are known by the appearance of the water over
them, the seas breaking less at those particular places than
in the spots where the bottom lies nearer to the surface, and

all experienced mariners are aware of the fact. No doubt,
the unfortunate master of this ship, finding himself reduced
to the necessity of running ashore to save the lives of his
crew, has chosen such a place, and has consequently forced
his vessel up to a spot where she has remained dry as soon
as the sea fell. So worthy a fellow deserved a better fate;
for this wreck is not three days old, and yet no signs are
to be seen of any who were in that stout ship.”

These remarks were made as the crew of the two boats
lay on their oars, at a short distance without the line on the
water, where the breaking of the sea pointed out the position
of the bar. The channel, also, was plainly visible directly
astern of the ship, the sea merely rising and falling
in it without combing. A short distance to the southward, a
few bold black rocks thrust themselves forward, and formed
a sort of bay, in which it was practicable to land without
risk; for they had come on the coast in a region where the
monotony of the sands, as it appeared when close in, was
little relieved by the presence of anything else.

“If you will keep the cutter just without the breakers,
Mr. Effingham,” Captain Truck continued, after standing
up a while and examining the shore, “I will pull into the
channel, and land in yonder bay. If you feel disposed to
follow, you may do so by giving the tiller to Mr. Blunt, on
receiving a signal to that effect from me. Be steady, gentlemen,
at your oars, and look well to the arms on landing,
for we are in a knavish part of the world. Should any of
the monkeys or ouran-outangs claim kindred with Mr.
Saunders, we may find it no easy matter to persuade them
to leave us the pleasure of his society.”

The captain made a sign, and the jolly-boat entered the
channel. Inclining south, it was seen rising and falling just
within the breakers, and then it was hid by the rocks. In
another minute, Mr. Truck, followed by all but Mr. Monday,
who stood sentinel at the boat, was on the rocks, making
his way towards the wreck. On reaching the latter, he
ascended swiftly even to the main cross-trees. Here a long
examination of the plain, beyond the bank that hid it from
the view of all beneath, succeeded, and then the signal to
come on was made to those who were still in the boat.

“Shall we venture?” cried Paul Blunt, soliciting an assent
by the very manner in which he put the question.

“What say you, dear father?”

“I hope we may not yet be too late to succour some
Christian in distress, my child. Take the tiller, Mr. Blunt,
and in Heaven's good name, and for humanity's sake, let
us proceed!”

The boat advanced, Paul Blunt standing erect to steer,
his ardour to proceed corrected by apprehensions on account
of her precious freight. There was an instant when
the ladies trembled, for it seemed as if the light boat was
about to be cast upon the shore, like the froth of the sea
that shot past them; but the steady hand of him who steered
averted the danger, and in another minute they were
floating at the side of the jolly-boat. The ladies got ashore
without much difficulty, and stood on the summit of the
rocks.

“Nous voici done, en Afrique,” exclaimed Mademoiselle
Viefville, with that sensation of singularity that comes over
all when they first find themselves in situations of extraordinary
novelty.

“The wreck—the wreck,” murmured Eve; “let us go
to the wreck. There may be yet a hope of saving some
wretched sufferer.”

Toward the wreck they all proceeded, after leaving two
of the servants to relieve Mr. Monday on his watch.

It was an impressive thing to stand at the side of a ship
on the sands of Africa, a scene in which the desolation of
an abandoned vessel was heightened by the desolation of a
desert. The position of the vessel, which stood nearly
erect, imbedded in the sands, rendered it less difficult than
might be supposed for the ladies to ascend to, and to walk
her decks, a rude staging having been made already to facilitate
the passage. Here the scene became thrice exciting,
for it was the very type of a hastily deserted and cherished
dwelling.

Before Eve and Mademoiselle Viefville gained the deck,
the other party had ascertained that no living soul remained.
The trunks, chests, furniture, and other appliances of the
cabin, had been rummaged, and many boxes had been
raised from the hold, and plundered, a part of their contents

still lying scattered on the decks. The ship, however, had
been lightly freighted, and the bulk of her cargo, which
was salt, was apparently untouched. A Danish ensign was
found bent to the halyards, a proof that Captain Truck's
original conjecture concerning the character of the vessel
was accurate. Her name, too, was ascertained to be the
Carrier, as translated into English, and she belonged to Copenhagen.
More than this it was not easy to ascertain.
No papers were found, and her cargo, or as much of it as
remained, was so mixed, and miscellaneous, as Saunders
called it, that no plausible guess could be given as to the
port where it had been taken in, if indeed it had all been
received on board at the same place.

Several of the light sails had evidently been carried off,
but all the heavy canvas was left on the yards which remained
in their places. The vessel was large, exceedingly
strong, as was proved by the fact that she had not bilged in
beaching, and apparently well found. Nothing was wanting
to launch her into the ocean but machinery and force,
and a crew to sail her, when she might have proceeded on
her voyage as if nothing unusual had occurred. But such
a restoration was hopeless, and this admirable machine, like
a man cut off in his youth and vigour, had been cast upon
the shores of this inhospitable region, to moulder where it
lay, unless broken up for the wood and iron by the wanderers
of the desert.

There was no object more likely to awaken melancholy
ideas in a mind resembling that of Captain Truck's, than a
spectacle of this nature. A fine ship, complete in nearly
all her parts, virtually uninjured, and yet beyond the chance
of further usefulness, in his eyes was a picture of the most
cruel loss. He cared less for the money it had cost than
for the qualities and properties that were thus destroyed.

He examined the bottom, which he pronounced capital
for stowing, and excellent as that of a sea-boat; he admired
the fastenings; applied his knife to try the quality of the
wood, and pronounced the Norway pine of the spars to be
almost equal to anything that could be found in our own
southern woods. The rigging, too, he regarded as one
loves to linger over the regretted qualities of a deceased
friend.

The tracks of camels and horses were abundant on the
sands around the ship, and especially at the bottom of the
rude staging by which the party had ascended, and which
had evidently been hastily made in order to carry articles
from the vessel to the backs of the animals that were to
bear them into the desert. The foot-prints of men were
also to be seen, and there was a startling and mournful
certainty in distinguishing the marks of shoes, as well as
those of the naked foot.

Judging from all these signs, Captain Truck was of opinion
the wreck must have taken place but two or three days
before, and that the plunderers had not left the spot many
hours.

“They probably went off with what they could carry at
sunset last evening, and there can be no doubt that before
many days, they, or others in their places, will be back
again. God protect the poor fellows who have fallen into
this miserable bondage! What an occasion would there
now be to rescue one of them, should he happen to be hid
near this spot!”

The idea seized the whole party at once, and all eagerly
turned to examine the high bank, which rose nearly to the
summit of the masts, in the hope of discovering some concealed
fugitive. The gentlemen went below again, and Mr.
sharp and Mr. Blunt called out in German, and English, and
French, to invite any one who might be secreted to come
forth. No sound answered these friendly calls. Again
Captain Truck went aloft to look into the interior, but he
beheld nothing more than the broad and unpeopled desert.

A place where the camels had descended to the beach
was at no great distance, and thither most of the party proceeded,
mounting to the level of the plain beyond. In this
little expedition, Paul Blunt led the advance, and as he rose
over the brow of the bank, he cocked both barrels of his
fowling-piece, uncertain what might be encountered. They
found, however, a silent waste, almost without vegetation,
and nearly as trackless as the ocean that lay behind them.
At the distance of a hundred rods, an object was just discernible,
lying on the plain half-buried in sand, and thither
the young men expressed a wish to go, first calling to those
in the ship to send a man aloft to give the alarm, in the

event of any party of the Mussulmans being seen. Mr.
Effingham, too, on being told their intention, had the precaution
to cause Eve and Mademoiselle Viefville to get into
the cutter, which he manned, and caused to pull out over
the bar, where she lay waiting the issue.

A camel's path, of which the tracks were nearly obliterated
by the sands, led to the object; and after toiling along
it, the adventurers soon reached the desired spot. It proved
to be the body of a man who had died by violence. His
dress and person denoted that of a passenger rather than
that of a seaman, and he had evidently been dead but a
very few hours, probably not twelve. The cut of a sabre
had cleft his skull. Agreeing not to acquaint the ladies
with this horrible discovery, the body was hastily covered
with the sand, the pockets of the dead man having been
first examined; for, contrary to usage, his person had not
been stripped. A letter was found, written by a wife to her
husband, and nothing more. It was in German, and its
expressions and contents, though simple, were endearing
and natural. It spoke of the traveller's return; for she who
wrote it little thought of the miserable fate that awaited her
beloved in this remote desert.

As nothing else was visible, the party returned hastily to
the beach, where they found that Captain Truck had ended
his investigation, and was impatient to return. In the interest
of the scene the Montauk had disappeared behind a
headland, towards which she had been drifting when they
left her. Her absence created a general sense of loneliness,
and the whole party hastened into the jolly-boat, as if fearful
of being left. When without the bar again, the cutter
took in her proper crew, and the boats pulled away, leaving
the Dane standing on the beach in his solitary desolation—
a monument of his own disaster.

As they got further from the land the Montauk came in
sight again, and Captain Truck announced the agreeable
intelligence that the jury mainmast was up, and that the
ship had after-sail set, diminutive and defective as it might
be. Instead of heading to the southward, however, as
heretofore, Mr. Leach was apparently endeavouring to get
back again to the northward of the headland that had shut
in the ship, or was trying to retrace his steps. Mr. Truck

rightly judged that this was proof his mate disliked the appearance
of the coast astern of him, and that he was anxious
to get an offing. The captain in consequence urged his
men to row, and in little more than an hour the whole
party were on the deck of the Montauk again, and the boats
were hanging at the davits.