The African Trader Part 2

This scene made a deep impression on me; too late! too late! continued sounding in my ears. What if I were to be brought to utter the same expression? Where was poor Bob now? I tried not to think of the matter, but still those fearful words "too late" would come back to me; then I tried to persuade myself that I was young and strong, and as I had led a very different sort of life to most of the men, I was more likely than any one to escape the gripe of the fever.

We had another trip on sh.o.r.e to bury poor Bob. The captain seemed sorry for him. "He was a man of better education than his messmates, though, to be sure, he had been a wild chap," he observed to me. Bob's conscience had been awakened; that of the others remained hardened or fast asleep, and they died as they had lived, foul, unwashed, unfit to enter a pure and holy heaven.

I am drawing a sad and painful picture, but it is a true one. I did not then understand how full of horror it was, though I thought it very sad to lose so many of our crew.

We continued to carry on trade as before, and the captain sent messengers urging the natives to hasten in bringing palm oil on board, but they showed no inclination to hurry themselves; and as to quitting the river till he had a full cargo on board, he had no intention of doing that.

Hitherto the officers had escaped; but one morning the second mate reported that the first mate was unable to leave his berth, though he believed that it was nothing particular; but d.i.c.k Radforth, who was considered to be the strongest man on board, when he had tried to get up that morning, had been unable to rise. The captain sent me forward to see him.

Some hours must have pa.s.sed since he was attacked. He was fearfully changed, but still conscious.

"Black Jack has got hold of me at last, Harry, but I'll grapple with him pretty tightly before I let him get the victory, do you see," he observed, when I told him that the captain had sent me to see him. "I'm obliged to him, but if he wishes to give me a longer spell of life, and to save the others on board, he will put to sea without loss of time, while the land breeze lasts. A few mouthfuls of sea air would set me up in a trice. If we don't get that there will be more of us down with fever before night."

The boatswain had scarcely said this when he began to rave and tumble and toss about in his berth, and I had to call two of the men to a.s.sist me in keeping him quiet. When I got back to the cabin, I told the captain what Radforth had said. "Oh, that's only the poor fellow's raving. It will never do to leave the river without our cargo, for if we do some other trader will sure to be in directly afterwards and take advantage of what has been collected for us. However, I have had notice that lots of oil will be brought on board in a few days, and when we get that, we will put to sea even though we are not quite full."

The captain shortly afterwards paid Radforth a visit; but the boatswain was raving at the time, and never again spoke while in his senses. The following day we carried him to his grave on sh.o.r.e. The death of one who was looked upon as the most seasoned and strongest man, had, as may be supposed, a most depressing effect among the crew. It was soon also evident that the first mate was ill with the fever, and indeed more than half our number were now down with it.

Still the captain could not bring himself to quit the river. "In a few days very possibly we shall have a full cargo Harry," he said to me.

"In the meantime, I daresay, the rest will hold out. Radforth overworked himself, or he would not have caught the fever. Take care Harry you don't expose yourself to the sun, and you will keep all to rights my boy,--I am very careful about that--though I am so well seasoned that nothing is likely to hurt me."

"I wish we were out of the river, Captain Willis," I could not help replying. "The mates and the men are always talking about it, and they say the season is unusually sickly or this would not have happened."

"They must mind their own business, and stay by the s.h.i.+p, wherever I choose to take her," he exclaimed, in an angry tone, and I saw that I should have acted more wisely in not making the observation I had just let fall. Still, to do him justice, Captain Willis was as kind and attentive as he possibly could be to the sick men; he constantly visited the first mate, and treated him as if he had been a brother.

All this time not a word about religion was spoken on board; I had, it is true, a Bible in my chest, put there by my sisters, but I had forgotten all about it, and there was not another in the s.h.i.+p.

Except in the instance I have mentioned, and in one or two others, not even the sick men seemed concerned about their souls. The only consolation which those in health could offer to them, was the hope that they might recover. "Cheer up d.i.c.k," or, "cheer up Tom, you'll struggle through it, never say die--you will be right again before long old boy,"

and such like expressions were uttered over and over again, often to those at their last gasp, and so the poor fellows went out of the world believing that they were going to recover and enjoy once more the base pursuits and unholy pleasures in which their souls' delighted. Alas, I have often though what a fearful waking up there must have been of those I had thus seen taking their departure from this world, yet the rest of us remained as hardened, and in most cases as fearless, of consequences as before.

The death of the first mate, which very soon occurred, made the second mate, I perceived, somewhat more anxious than before about himself. The first mate had been a strong healthy man, and had often before been out on the coast, while the second mate was always rather sickly, and this was his first visit to the sh.o.r.es of Africa. Whether or not his fears had an effect upon him, I cannot say, but he began to look very ill, and became every day more anxious about himself. The captain tried to arouse him, telling him that we should be at sea enjoying the fresh breeze in a few days, and that he must hold out till then. "Still it is of no use, Harry," he said to me, as I was walking the deck with him one evening, trying to get a few mouthfuls of air. "I know I shall never leave this horrible place alive unless the captain would give the order at once to trip the anchor, then perhaps the thought of being free of it would set me up again."

I told the captain when I went into the cabin what the poor mate had said, for I really thought our going away might be the means of saving his life, as well as that of others aboard. He took what I said in very good part, but was as obstinately bent in remaining as before. "Those are all fancies, Harry," he answered. "He has taken it into his head that he is to die, and that is as likely to kill him as the fever itself."

"But then he fancies that he would get well if we were at sea," I replied. "Perhaps that really would set him up again."

"Well, well, just tell him that you heard me ay I hoped to get away in two or three days, perhaps that will put him to rights," answered the captain, laughing. "Now, Harry, don't let me hear any more of this sort of thing; I have bother enough with these black traders without having to listen to the fancies of my own people."

I told the mate what the captain had said. "If the vessel does get away at the time he mentioned, I hope that I may be able to help in taking her to sea, if not, mark my words Harry, there will be a good many more of us down with the fever." He spoke too truly. The traders continued to arrive but slowly, as before, with their oil. The captain waited and waited like an angler anxious to catch more fish. Before the week was over the second mate was dead, and we had only two men fit for duty on board.

CHAPTER FOUR.

MORE VICTIMS TO THE FEVER.--THE CAPTAIN HIMSELF ATTACKED.--WE s.h.i.+P SOME KRUMEN AND OTHER BLACKS, AMONG WHOM IS A CHRISTIAN, PAUL BALINGO.--PAUL INSTRUCTS THE CAPTAIN AND ME IN THE TRUTH.--CAPTAIN WILLIS GETS SOMEWHAT BETTER, AND WE PREPARE FOR SEA.

The s.h.i.+p was almost full, and we had a few more empty casks, and were expecting some traders on board during the day with oil which would fill them up. When I turned out of my berth, just as morning broke, I found the captain seated in his cabin, with his head resting on his hands. He felt a little ill, he acknowledged, but said he was sure it was nothing.

"We will get under weigh at daylight to-morrow morning, when the tide makes down, and I shall soon be all to rights," he observed. Still, I could not help remarking that he looked pale, and moved with difficulty.

"I have agreed to s.h.i.+p half-a-dozen Krumen, and two or three other black seamen, who are knocking about here," he added. "This fever has made us terribly short-handed; but I hope the fellows who are sick will come round when we are in blue water again. Harry, go forward and see how they are getting on, and send Tom Raven to me." Raven was one of the two men who had hitherto escaped the lever, and being a good seaman, had been promoted to the rank of mate.

I went on deck, but saw neither him nor Grinham, the other man. I made my way forward to where the crew were berthed, under the topgallant forecastle, expecting to find them there. Grinham was in his berth; he and two other poor fellows were groaning and tossing with fever, but the rest were perfectly quiet. I thought they were asleep. What was my horror, on looking into their berths, to find that their sleep was that of death!

"Water, water," murmured Grinham. I ran and fetched some, and as I gave it to him I asked where Raven was. "I don't know," he answered, somewhat revived by the cool draught. "It's his watch on deck. He said he felt a little ill when he relieved me."

Having done what I could for the other man, I went to look for Raven. I found him in the second mate's berth. He too was ill with fever, and seemed to have forgotten that he ought to have been on deck, and that the vessel had been left without anyone to look-out. I told him that the captain had resolved to put to sea the next day. "Had he gone a week ago the lives of some of us might have been saved, but it is too late now," he answered with a groan.

Sick at heart, after attending to him, I returned to the cabin, to make my report to the captain.

"What, all! everyone of them sick!" he exclaimed, sighing deeply. "Then G.o.d have mercy upon us. You must not fall ill, Harry."

"Not if I can help it, sir," I replied.

"I must keep up," he said, and if I can get these Krumen on board we will still put to sea. They are trustworthy fellows, and, Harry, you must be my mate. You are somewhat young; but you have got a head on your shoulders. You must keep your wits alive.

"I'll do my best, sir," I answered, feeling not a little proud of the rank to which I thus was raised. I had, indeed, for some time past been performing the duties of mate, supercargo, steward, and not unfrequently helping the black cook, Sambo, and, indeed, lending a hand to everything which required to be done. Now Sambo and I were literally the only two people capable of working on board. The captain himself I feared greatly had got the fever, notwithstanding his a.s.sertions to the contrary. It was surprising that I, the youngest in the s.h.i.+p, and least inured to the climate, should have escaped. I had always been very healthy; had never done anything to hurt my const.i.tution, and had followed the captain's advice in keeping out of the sun, and was inclined to feel somewhat self-satisfied on that account--not considering that it was owing to G.o.d's mercy and loving-kindness that I had been preserved.

The captain said he would go and see Raven; but having got up, after moving a few paces, he sat down again with a groan, and a deadly pallor came over his countenance. He felt that he, too, had got the fever. I advised him to lie down again and rest, but to that he would not consent. He was determined to carry on the trade as usual during the day, and to get ready for sea as soon as the black seamen, whom he expected every hour on board, arrived. He sent me up frequently to see whether they were coming off, and now, when too late, he seemed as anxious as anyone had been to get the vessel out of the river.

I was thankful when at length I found two canoes alongside with the expected blacks. The Krumen were fine athletic fellows, neatly dressed in s.h.i.+rts and trousers, and having all served on board men-of-war or in merchant vessels, spoke a little English. They had been hired by the captain's agent on sh.o.r.e; and as their wages had been settled, and they knew the duties they were required to perform, they went to work at once under their head man, who had been appointed to act as boatswain, and seemed inclined to be orderly and obedient. Besides the Krumen there were, as I have before said, several other black seamen engaged, who had been mostly recaptured slaves, and had afterwards entered on board men-of-war or merchant vessels touching at Sierra Leone. I was struck with the manner of one of them, a fine active man, as I, now the only representative of the "Chieftain's" officers and crew, stood near the gangway to receive them. Touching his hat in a respectful manner, he asked after Captain Willis. "He know me, Paul Balingo. I sail once with him some time ago. He kind man, so I come again." I told him that the captain was rather unwell. He had charged me not to let the blacks fancy that he had the fever. I added, that I was sure he would be glad to see him in the cabin.

"I go when you tell I come on board," answered Paul. "Sorry to hear him ill."

"Oh, he says its nothing," I observed, "and as soon as the tide serves we are to go down the river, and put to sea."

I made this remark in obedience to the captain's instructions. I now gave directions to the black boatswain to get the cargo stowed without delay.

The captain was much pleased to hear that Paul Balingo had joined the vessel, and said he would see him at once. "I remember him well," he observed, "a good steady fellow."

I told Paul to come down, and he received a friendly welcome. I then reminded the captain that there was another duty to be performed. It was to bury the men who had died during the night. This was beyond the strength of those who still survived.

"I see to it, sir," said Paul.

"The sooner the better then," observed the captain. "And when you return we will trip the anchor, if there is wind enough to help us along."

Four bodies were lowered into the canoe, and Paul and some of his companions took them on sh.o.r.e. He had fastened them up in canvas, for there was no time to make coffins; indeed, the carpenter was among them.

I should like to have accompanied him to pay the last mark of respect I could to the poor fellows, but there were too many duties to be performed on board to allow of this. I watched them, however, through the gla.s.s as they stood on the beach, which formed our burial place. To my surprise, after the graves were dug, I observed Paul Balingo take off his hat--his companions imitating his example--when he seemed to be lifting up his hands in prayer. Then he addressed a number of natives who were standing round, and the bodies were carefully lowered into the graves, and covered up.

When he returned on board I told him that the captain was very much obliged to him for what he had done. "And I saw too," I observed, "that you were praying for the poor fellows."

"No, ma.s.sa; I no pray for dem," he answered. "If when dey died dey loved Jesus Christ, den dey no want my prayers; if dey no love Him, den He no love dem. No, ma.s.sa, me pray for dose that stand round, and for dose still alive. I pray dat G.o.d's Holy Spirit would come into dere hearts, and told dem to love Jesus, and dat He died for sinners. I prayed dat dey would hear His Word, and love Him and serve Him. Den I tell dem that Jesus Christ came down on earth, and become man, and be obedient to G.o.d, and do all dat good child should do who lub him parents, and dat He pure and holy like lamb widout spot or blemish, and dat He died on de cross, and be punished instead of wicked man, and dat G.o.d den say dat one who not deserve punishment being punished He will forgive all dose His dear Son present to Him, who lub Him and serve Him.

Den I tell dem dat Jesus Christ died for dem, and dat if dey trust to Him He put away all dere sins, and G.o.d not look at dere sins any more.

Den I turn de matter about, and I say dat you and all men are poor and naked and covered with dirt and sores, and not fit to go into de presence of pure and holy G.o.d; but if you love Christ and trust dat He died and was punished instead of you, den He put on you a white robe, cover you wid His righteousness, and den when you go to G.o.d He longer see that you are poor and naked, but He only see the white robe, and He say, 'Now you may come into dis pure and bright heaven, and live wid Me.' Then once more I say again, look here, G.o.d put you into this world, and you owe G.o.d everything. You ought to obey Him and serve Him, and give Him all your strength and health, and to try and please Him in all things every moment of your life. Next I remind dem dat none of us do it, so we owe G.o.d a debt, and the longer we live the greater is the debt. It is not den all the things that we do dat G.o.d reckon, but the many things that we ought to do and which we leave undone. We receive all the good things from G.o.d, and we give Him nothing in return. Then we have no means to pay this debt, so Jesus Christ, because He love us, say He pay it, and G.o.d say He accept His payment and set us free. Den I say to the people, Do you believe dis? If you do, and try to love G.o.d, and serve G.o.d, and do what Jesus Christ did when He was on earth, den you have living faith, and you are free, and G.o.d no say longer that you owe Him debt, but He call you His dear children, and when you leave this world He receive you in heaven."

"Why, Paul," I exclaimed, after listening with astonishment to what he had said, "I little expected to hear such things come out of a--" (I was going to say negro's mouth, but changed it to) "African sailor's mouth.

You ought to be a missionary."

"Every Christian man ought to be a missionary," he answered. "If he love the Lord Jesus, and know that the Lord Jesus love him, then he ought to tell that love to others, and if he knows the value of his own soul then he values the souls of others, and try to win those souls for Christ. The truth is, ma.s.sa, I do want to be missionary, and I seek to go to England to learn more. I there learn to preach the gospel, and when I come back I carry the glad tidings of salvation to my ignorant countrymen."

I was very much struck with Paul's earnestness and zeal, though at that time I could scarcely comprehend all he said--I myself knew nothing experimentally of the great love of Jesus of which he spoke. The poor black Christian was far more enlightened than I was. Still I felt a satisfaction at having him on board. He at once showed that he was not a mere theoretical Christian, for as soon as his duty on board the s.h.i.+p was over, he devoted himself to attending on the sick men. All the hours he could s.n.a.t.c.h from sleep he spent by the side of their bunks, urging them to trust to Jesus, and to repent of their sins while yet there was time.