The slave-trade[11] is still extensively carried on in all parts of equatorial Africa. Year after year vessels loaded with slaves leave the coasts of Angola and Mozambique to transport their freight to many countries.
Captain Hull knew that very well. He thought that the negroes were the part of a slave-cargo which was on its way to some colony of the Pacific. And he wanted to announce that they regained their freedom on board the “Pilgrim.”
Mrs. Weldon, assisted by Nan and Dick Sand, was doing everything in her power to restore consciousness to the poor sufferers. Fresh water and some food soon helped them. The eldest of them was a man of about sixty years of age. When he regained his powers of speech, he was able to reply in good English to all the questions. In answer to Captain Hull’s inquiry whether they were not slaves, the old negro proudly stated that he and his companions were all free American Citizens from the state of Pennsylvania.
This old man communicated all the information that Captain Hull required to hear, and he related all the details of his adventures.
He said that his name was Tom. When was only six years of age he was brought from his home in Africa to the United States; but he recovered his freedom. His companions, who were all much younger than himself, were all free-born. One of them was his own son; his name was Bat (an abbreviation of Bartholomew); and there were three others, named Austin, Acteon, and Hercules.
Three years ago the five men were engaged by an Englishman who had large property in South Australia. Upon the completion of their engagement they determined to return to America. On the 5th of January, they embarked at Melbourne on board the “Waldeck.” Everything went on well for seventeen days, until, on the night of the 22nd, which was very dark, they were run into by[12] a great steamer. The scene was terrible; both masts were gone, and the brig completely heeled over on its side. Captain and crew disappeared. They were left alone upon a half-capsized and disabled hull, twelve hundred miles from the nearest land.
The boats were crushed in the collision, so that they had to await the appearance of a passing vessel.
For the next ten days the negroes were eating the food that they found in the stern cabin; but they were quite unable to obtain a drop of anything to drink. Tortured with thirst, the poor men suffered agonies. On the previous night they entirely lost consciousness.
All the outlines of Tom’s narrative were fully confirmed by the other negroes.
One other survivor of the wreck was the dog who had an unaccountable dislike to Negoro.
Dingo, as the dog was named, belonged to the fine breed of mastiffs. The animal came from the coast of West Africa, near the mouth of the Congo. The captain of the “Waldeck” get the dog two years ago. The initials S. V. were engraved upon the dog’s collar.
Dingo was very large. It was a magnificent example of his kind. Standing on hind legs, it was as tall as a man. This dog was like a panther. Its fine shaggy coat was a dark tawny colour, its long bushy tail was as strong as a lion’s. If he was angry, no doubt he became a most formidable foe.
Dingo was unsociable, but it was not savage. Old Tom said that, on board the “Waldeck,” Dingo had particular dislike to negroes; it uniformly avoided them.
The five men were profoundly grateful to their kind-hearted benefactors; poor negroes utterly resigned the hope to repay the debt which they owed their deliverers.
Meantime the “Pilgrim” pursued its course, it was keeping as much as possible to the east, and soon the hull of the “Waldeck” was out of sight.
Captain Hull still continued to feel uneasy. Not that for himself he cared much about the delay of a week or two in a voyage from New Zealand to Valparaiso, but he was disappointed at the inconvenience it caused to his lady passenger. Mrs. Weldon, however, did not utter a word of complaint.
The captain’s next care was to think about the accommodation for Tom and his four associates. There was no room for them in the crew’s quarters, so that their berths were under the forecastle.
After this incident of the discovery of the wreck, life on board the “Pilgrim” relapsed into its ordinary routine. The good-natured negroes were always ready to help; the strongest of them was Hercules, a great fellow, six feet high.
Hercules became at once little Jack’s friend; and when the giant lifted him like a doll in his stalwart arms, the child fairly shrieked with delight.
“Higher! higher! very high!” Jack was saying.
“There you are, then, Master Jack,” Hercules was replying.
“Am I heavy?” asked the child,
“As heavy as a feather.”
“Then lift me higher still,” cried Jack.
Besides Dick Sand and Hercules, Jack admitted a third friend to his companionship. This was Dingo. The dog was one of those animals that are fond of children. It allowed Jack to do with him almost anything he pleased. Jack found a live dog infinitely more entertaining than his old toy upon its four wheels, and his great delight was to mount upon Dingo’s back. Dingo was the delight of all the crew excepting Negoro, who cautiously avoided the animal who showed unmistakable symptoms of hostility.
But Jack did not forget his old friend Dick Sand, who devoted all his leisure time to him. Mrs. Weldon regarded their intimacy with the greatest satisfaction, and one day made a remark in the presence of Captain Hull.
“You are right, madam,” said the captain cordially; “Dick will be a first-rate sailor. He has an instinct which is a little short of genius.”
“Certainly for his age,” assented Mrs. Weldon, “he is singularly advanced. He may be able to become a captain.”
The eyes of the two speakers turned in the direction where Dick Sand was standing. He was at the helm.
“Look at him now!” said the captain; “nothing distracts him from his duty; he acts as the most experienced helmsman.”
Just at this instant Cousin Benedict emerged from the stern-cabin, and began to wander up and down the deck, peering into the interstices of the network, drawing his long fingers along the cracks in the floor.
“Well, Benedict, how are you getting on?” asked Mrs Weldon.
“I? Oh, well enough, thank you,” he replied dreamily.
“What were you looking for under that bench?” said Captain Hull.
“Insects, of course,” answered Benedict; “I am always looking for insects.”
“But don’t you know, Benedict,” said Mrs. Weldon, “that Captain Hull does not allow any vermin on the deck of his vessel?”
Captain Hull smiled and said, -
“Mrs Weldon is very complimentary.”
Cousin Benedict shrugged his shoulders.
“However,” continued the captain, “I dare say down in the hold you can find some cockroaches.”
“I can see, sir,” replied Benedict, “that you are not an entomologist!”
“Not at all,” said the captain good-humouredly.
“Are you not satisfied,” Mrs. Weldon interposed; “with the result of your explorations in New Zealand?”
“Yes, yes,” answered Benedict, with reluctance; “I must not say I was dissatisfied. But, you know, an entomologist is always craving for fresh additions to his collection.”
While he was speaking, Dingo came and jumped on Benedict, and began to fawn on him.
“Get away, you brute!” he exclaimed, thrusting the dog aside.
“Poor Dingo! good dog!” cried Jack, running up and taking the animal’s huge head between his tiny hands.
“Your interest in cockroaches, Mr. Benedict,” observed the captain, “does not seem to extend to dogs.”
“This creature,” answered Benedict; “ disappointed me.”
“What do you mean? You cannot catalogue it?” asked Mrs Weldon laughingly.
“I understand that this dog was found on the West Coast of Africa,” replied Benedict, “and I hoped that it had some African insects in its coat. I searched its coat well, over and over again, but I could not find a single specimen.”
Captain Hull and Mrs. Weldon laughed.
Such were the conversations throughout the monotonous hours of smooth sailing, while the “Pilgrim” was making its headway to the east.
Cousin Benedict began to teach Hercules entomology. He was studying the extensive collection of stag-beetles, tiger-beetles and lady-birds.
Mrs. Weldon was giving her attention to the education of Master Jack. She was teaching her son to read and write, Dick Sand taught him arithmetic. The child made a rapid progress. Mrs. Weldon used a set of cubes, on the sides of which the various letters were painted in red. There were more than fifty cubes, which, besides the alphabet, included all the digits. It was astonishing how quickly the child advanced, and how many hours he spent in the cabin and on deck. Mrs. Weldon was very satisfied.
On the morning of the 9th an incident occurred. Jack was half lying, half sitting on the deck, amusing himself with his letters. He made a word with which he intended to puzzle old Tom. All at once, Dingo, who was gambolling round the child, made a sudden pause, lifted his right paw, and wagged his tail convulsively. Then the animal seized a capital S in his mouth, and carried it some paces away.
“Oh, Dingo, Dingo! you mustn’t eat my letters!” shouted the child.
But the dog came back again, and picked up another letter. This time it was a capital V. Jack uttered an exclamation of astonishment which brought to his side not only his mother, but the captain and Dick. Jack cried out in the greatest excitement that Dingo knew how to read.
Dick Sand smiled and stooped to take back the letters. Dingo snarled and showed his teeth, but the apprentice was not frightened. He replaced the two blocks among the rest. Dingo in an instant pounced upon them again, and laid a paw upon each of them.
“It is very strange,” said Mrs. Weldon; “he has picked out S V again.”
“S V!” repeated the captain thoughtfully; “are not those the letters that form the initials on his collar?”
He turned to the old negro, and continued,
“Tom didn’t you say that this dog did not always belong to the captain of the ‘Waldeck’?”
“I often heard from the captain,” replied Tom, “that he found the dog at the mouth of the Congo[13].”
Mrs. Weldon asked, -
“Do you recall these letters, captain?”
“Mrs. Weldon,” the captain replied; “I can associate them with the fate of a brave explorer.”
“Whom do you mean?” said the lady.
“In 1871, just two years ago,” the captain continued, “a French traveller set out to cross Africa from west to east. His starting-point was the mouth of the Congo, and his exit was Cape Deldago, at the mouth of the River Rovouma[14]. The name of this man was Samuel Vernon. These letters – Vernon’s initials – are engraved on Dingo’s collar.”
“What do we know about this traveller?” asked Mrs. Weldon.
“Nothing. I think that he failed to reach the east coast. He died upon his way, or he was made prisoner[15] by the natives. Did this dog belong to him?”
“But you have no reason to suppose, Captain Hull, that Vernon ever owned a dog?”
“I never heard of it,” said the captain; “but the dog knows these letters. Look at the animal, madam! It does not only read the letters for himself, but invites us to come and read them with him.”
Whilst Mrs. Weldon was watching the dog with much amusement, Dick Sand asked the captain whether the traveller Vernon started on his expedition quite alone.
“That is really more than I can tell you, my boy,” answered Captain Hull.
Meanwhile Negoro quietly appeared on deck. The dog caught sight of the cook and began to bristle with rage. Negoro withdrew immediately to his room.
The incident did not escape the captain’s observation.
“No doubt,” he said, “there is some mystery here.”
“Don’t you think, sir, it’s strange that this dog knows the alphabet?”
“My mamma told me about a dog whose name was Munito, who could read as well as a schoolmaster, and could play dominoes,” said Jack.
Mrs. Weldon smiled.
“I am afraid, my child, the dog’s master, who was a clever American, taught Munito some curious tricks.”
“The more I think of it, the more strange it is,” said Captain Hull; “Dingo evidently has no acquaintance with any other letters except the two S V. Some circumstance which we cannot guess made the animal familiar with them.”
“What a pity Dingo cannot talk!” exclaimed the apprentice.
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