Hair-Breadth Escapes: The Adventures of Three Boys in South Africa

“We tried to attract her attention, but without effect. She was so near to us that we thought she must have seen us; but she did not alter her course, or in any way acknowledge our signals. Finding that she took no heed, we resolved, as a last chance, to reach her by rowing, though this obliged us to right our boat, and the water poured in so fast that incessant baling would not keep it down. At last, when we had got quite close to the ship, the boat was so water-logged that she could not have been kept afloat ten minutes more. We hailed again and again, but there was no answer, nor was any one to be seen on deck. We came to the conclusion that she had been deserted by her crew for some reason, or that they had all died on board, and that she was drifting aimlessly over the deep. Fortunately there was a rope hanging over her bows, up which one of the sailors climbed, and was followed by the others in succession. The last of us was hardly out of the cutter when she went down.”

“Had she been deserted?” inquired Ernest. “Well, yes, by the survivors of her crew, that is. She was evidently a Portuguese trader running, I apprehend, between the West India Islands and Lisbon, and had probably twenty or twenty-five men on board. She must have been attacked by one of the terrible fevers prevalent in the hot climates, the action of which is sometimes so rapid that all attempts to stay it are useless. Several, I suppose, must have died, and the rest were so terrified by the fear of infection, that they had left her. Any way, there were no human remains on board, and all the ship’s boats were gone.”

“I should think the danger into which you ran was worse than the one from which you had escaped,” observed Queen Laura.

“We were of the same opinion, madam,” observed Captain Wilmore. “If we could have repaired our own boat, or if a single one of the ship’s boats had been left, we should have preferred continuing our own voyage in it. But as that was impossible, we were obliged to remain in the vessel. But after consulting with Captain Renton, I resolved to run, not for Ascension, but for the Cape de Verdes, though they were considerably further off. I don’t know whether any of you have ever been at Ascension?”

“We sighted it once, sir,” said Lavie; “but I never went ashore there.”

“There is not much to see if you do land,” said the sailor. “It is little better than a great heap of cinders, except just in the interior, where there is some land capable of cultivation. It was for a long time believed that there wasn’t a drop of fresh water to be found on it. That is a mistake. There are a few springs – enough to support life, and there are some goats, and plenty of turtle. But there are no inhabitants, and I reckoned that if the fever should break out on board we should find no doctors there, or any means of nursing the sick. We shaped our course for the Cape de Verdes, therefore. We took all possible precautions, sleeping on deck throughout the voyage, and never going below unless it was absolutely necessary to bring up food and water. Whether it was that these precautions were successful, or whether it was that I was mistaken in my conjecture as to the reason why the barque had been deserted, I cannot say. But we certainly escaped without any sickness, and reached the Cape de Verdes without the loss of a man.

“I need not tell you how welcome was the sight of Porto Prayo to us all. But I had an especial reason for rejoicing at it. You will remember, Ernest, the circumstances under which we left Porto Prayo?”

“Yes, sir,” said Warley, colouring, “I remember we had behaved very ill. I have often wished to ask your pardon for it.”

“Well, my lad, it was six of one and half a dozen of the other, I expect,” said the captain. “We may share the blame between us. I had often reproached myself for the haste with which I acted; though, at the same time, I could not help being glad that you were safe, as I imagined, at Porto Prayo, instead of being exposed to the sufferings and dangers which had befallen us. I had no sooner landed than I made inquiries concerning you; but to my surprise and disappointment I could learn nothing. I instituted a most careful search, and offered a large reward. But it was all in vain. Nobody knew anything about you, except that three foreign-looking lads had been seen about the streets of the town one day several weeks before. But no one had fallen in with them, or had heard anything about them since that date. I was still prosecuting my inquiries, when the British fleet, under Sir Home Popham, on its way, as I learned, to make an attack on the Dutch at the Cape of Good Hope, sailed into the harbour.

“Fortunately for me, I was an old messmate of the Admiral’s, and he was interested in my story. Moreover, I knew the Cape well, as was the case, I found, with very few of the officers of the squadron. Sir Home offered me the command of the Celaeno, a fine frigate, the captain of which had died suddenly. I, of course, gladly accepted it, and was enabled to render some service.”

“Ah, you were present at the taking of the Cape,” said Mr De Walden. “Did the Dutch offer a determined resistance?”

“No,” said Captain Wilmore. “I suppose the experience of the last campaign disheartened them. But certainly it was a very hollow affair. Governor Jansens seemed to me to have given it up as a bad job from the first. There was hardly enough resistance to make it any fight at all. But something did happen to me, nevertheless, in Simon’s Bay which was exciting enough.”

“What was that, sir?” asked Ernest. “You did not encounter the Hooghly, I suppose?”

“Ah, but I did though,” said Captain Wilmore, “the Hooghly herself, as large as life. The scoundrels had knocked away her figure-head, and painted her, name and all, anew; but I knew her in a moment, as well as I know my own face. We hailed her, and the moment they saw me on the quarter-deck, they cut their cable, and tried to run for it. But we were just entering the harbour, prepared for action, and sent such a broadside into her as knocked all the mischief out of her in a jiffey. O’Hara was killed, and White mortally wounded, and as for Andy Duncan, he was run up to the yardarm and hanged the next morning. The others were put into irons, and received various sentences. Some had seven dozen. Others were simply dismissed and sent home.”

“Did you learn on board the Hooghly what had befallen us?” asked Warley.

“Yes, my lad, to my great satisfaction I did. One of the sailors came to me on the morning of Duncan’s execution, and told me all that had happened, so far that is, as he knew it. But he could tell me nothing, of course, as to what had become of you after your escape from the ship. All he knew was that you had appeared suddenly on deck two days after we had left, and it was conjectured by the crew that you had been concealed somewhere by old Jennings. Mr Lavie, it also appeared, had gone off with you, and none of the party appeared to have been hurt. That comforted me a little, but still I was very anxious and uneasy – the more so because all inquiries at the Cape for a long time were wholly fruitless.”

“Ah, I was afraid you would be at fault there,” said Warley. “I suppose you simply heard nothing at all?”

“Very nearly that,” said the captain. “Some of the messengers whom I sent out did come back with a story that some white men with guns had been seen in the neighbourhood of Elephant’s kloof; but the Hottentots living near about there denied, one and all, the truth of the rumour.”

“The rascals!” exclaimed Ernest. “When you heard the truth of the matter, sir, you must have been amused at their denial.”

“Yes, afterwards,” said Captain Wilmore; “but not at the time. I was, in fact, almost in despair when Lavie here arrived all of a moment one day, looking like a ghost returned from the grave.”

“Ay, I am afraid you must have had a trying time of it, Charles,” said De Walden. “I have sometimes reproached myself for allowing you to go, considering what the danger and exhaustion must needs be.”

“You have no need to do so,” said Lavie. “Whatever I may have undergone has been more than compensated by our meeting to-day, not to speak of the appointment which my kind friend has obtained for me. In fact, if I had not undertaken the journey, we must have remained in hopeless captivity.”

“Did your Bechuana guide play false?” asked the missionary.

“No, I have no right to say so. Whether he would have been as faithful as he was, had matters fallen out differently, may be a matter of doubt. I half fancy he had received some private instructions from Chuma, which he did not carry out, for what may seem a very strange reason. He was frightened out of his senses by our dog, Lion!”

“Lion!” exclaimed Warley. “Why, he has been dead for weeks and months, hasn’t he?”

“Not he! He is as much alive as you or I. He is at one of the huts along with Kama and Kobo at this moment.”

“I thought I saw him swept away by the flood during that night on the Gariep.”

“So you did, I dare say; but he must have contrived to swim ashore. Anyhow, we met him two days’ journey from the Bechuana village, tracking us, I fancy, by his instinct, and he would have joined us there before long, if I had not fallen in with him; but he would not leave me, when we had once met, and I thought the best thing under the circumstances would be to take him with me to Cape Town. But Kama, who had never seen an animal like him, and who had heard of his having been swept away by the torrent, believed, I am convinced, that he was a sort of tutelary spirit, who would be sure to detect any knavery and avenge any false dealing on his part. It amused me, I must say, a good deal; but any way, from the day Lion joined our company to that on which we reached Cape Town, he never attempted any tricks.”

“And then you and Captain Wilmore resolved to go in quest of us,” said De Walden. “I understand that But how did you find out where we were? Did you go to the Bechuanas, and hear it from Chuma?”

“No; we were making our way to the village, when we fell in with a man who was known to Kama, and who, it seemed, knew me too, though I had quite forgotten him.”

“What! Kobo, I suppose?” exclaimed Warley.

“Yes, that, I believe, is his name. He told us that you all had escaped in his company from Chuma, who had quarrelled with you, or with Mr De Walden. He said he had left you on an island on the Yellow River awaiting his return, and we had better accompany him to the place. So we did, but there was no trace of you to be found.”

“No,” said Warley. “We didn’t stay twenty-four hours on the island after Kobo’s departure. We have been playing at cross purposes with him. How did you find out at last where we were?”

“We met your messenger returning from his errand to the Bechuanas, and learned that the quarrel had been made up. Nevertheless, all things considered, it is quite as well that we didn’t go there.”

“All’s well that ends well,” said the Queen, who had sat listening to the discourse of her English guests with the deepest interest, recalling, as it did, so many varied associations.

“I trust it will end well, madam,” observed Captain Wilmore. “But until I find my nephew, and young Gilbert, and bring them back safely, I cannot consider that there is an end to my anxieties.”

“We will set off in quest of them to-morrow morning, as soon as you have had a good rest,” said De Walden. “I have already set some of the best hunters to follow their track, so as to save us time to-morrow. I feel sure that in two or three days, at furthest, we shall come up with them.”

So they probably would have done, had it not been for the length of the journeys made by the lads on the first two days, and the rains which had fallen on the third and fourth, which had almost entirely obliterated all traces of them. If De Walden had not remembered the questions put to him by Nick, as to the direction in which the Gariep lay, they would have been more than once completely at fault. But this served as a clue, when everything else failed, and every now and then they came upon the white embers of a fire, or heaps of dry grass, which had evidently served for beds, showing that, however slowly they might be progressing, it was in the right direction.

It was on the afternoon of the ninth day, when Kobo, who, it should be mentioned, had formed a warm friendship with Lion since leaving the Basuto village – it was just in the late afternoon, when Kobo, who had been a little in advance of the rest of the party, came hurrying back with the news, that there were both hoof marks and large stains of blood to be seen in the grass and bushes about a hundred yards ahead, as though some large animal – a gnu, or an eland, or perhaps a buffalo – had been severely wounded. If such was the case, most probably they were in the neighbourhood of the English lads, as there were neither Bechuanas or Basutos to be found thereabouts. He added, that it was with the greatest difficulty that he could restrain Lion, who wanted to rush off, at the top of his speed, in the direction of the footmarks.

“You had better let him go, Kobo,” said De Walden, “and follow him up as closely as you can. He’ll find Frank, if he is to be found, I’ll answer for it.”

“And we’ll all come after you,” added Lavie. “Meanwhile, I’ll fire my gun. They’ll hear it if they are anywhere hereabouts.”

Lion was accordingly let loose, and immediately galloped off, arriving, as the reader has heard, just in time to rescue Frank and Nick from their imminent peril.

It was a joyful meeting, when the whole party assembled on the spot where the carcasses of the two leopards, and an ugly rent in Lion’s side, bore evidence to how narrow had been the escape of the two boys from death. The tears stood in Captain Wilmore’s eyes, as he grasped his nephew warmly by the hand, noticing, even at that moment, how his figure had improved in strength and manly bearing, and the thoughtful expression which had taken the place of mere boyish recklessness, on Gilbert’s face.

“My lads,” he said, “I was hasty with you. But for me, you would not have had to undergo this wandering and danger. But I have paid the penalty – ”

“Oh, uncle,” broke in Frank, “you mustn’t say that. It was all our fault, mine particularly. And it hasn’t been such bad fun, after all. I am sure we have most need to ask your forgiveness.”

“You mustn’t regret what has happened, captain,” said De Walden. “Under God’s good providence, it has been the making of them both. But now, I suppose, we must be setting out on our return to the Basuto village.”

“I am afraid I cannot go there,” said Captain Wilmore. “I have been away a good deal longer than I had expected, as it is: and I know my presence is urgently needed at Cape Town. I and my guides must set out homewards without loss of time – as soon, that is, as the lads are prepared to accompany me.”

“I am ready to go this moment,” said Frank.

“And so am I,” added Gilbert. “That’s well,” said the captain. “Frank, I haven’t told you that I have got a commission for you in a line regiment now at the Cape. Sir David Baird signed it the day I came away. That’s good news, isn’t it?”

“The best there could be, thank you, uncle,” returned Frank, joyously.

“And you, Nick, what do you say? Will you be put on the quarter-deck of the Atlantic– that’s my new ship; – and rated as a midshipman?”

“I should like nothing better, sir,” answered Gilbert, almost as much pleased as Frank. “Thank you very much for your kindness!”

“That’s well,” again said the captain. “And you too,” he continued, turning to Lavie and Warley. “Do you mean to return with me to Cape Town, or with Mr De Walden to the Basutos? You will not be wanted, you know, Lavie, for two months yet; so you can stay behind awhile, if you choose.”

“Thank you, captain, I should like to have a good talk with Warley about his prospects; he does not, as yet, know the change that has taken place in them. And besides, I haven’t stood the journey as well as you have. I think I shall remain a week or two with Mr De Walden before following you.”

They shook hands accordingly, and went their several ways. De Walden, accompanied by Lavie and Warley, returned to the village; where, after a few days of rest, they were enabled to arrange their plans for the future.

“Ernest,” said Lavie one morning, after they had just returned in company with De Walden from an inspection of the native school, “I am glad I delayed telling you what has happened at Cape Town. I think the effect it will have on you may be different from what I had expected.”

“What has happened?” asked Warley with interest. “You have lost your brother,” answered Lavie. “I know he was never really a brother to you, but you will be sorry for his sudden death, nevertheless. When the rumour of the approach of the British fleet was circulated in Cape Town, some of the English tried to organise a British force to help their countrymen. The Dutch governor heard of it, and sent soldiers to arrest the ringleaders. Your brother offered an armed resistance, and was killed on the spot. The Dutch authorities declared all your brother’s property to be forfeited by his rebellion; but the new governor, Sir David Baird, at once rescinded that. As your brother had made no will, all his money has become yours.”

Warley turned very white, and leaned forward on the table, covering his face with his hands.

“I have told you, perhaps, too abruptly,” said Lavie, “but you must remember that you have nothing to reproach yourself with, so far as your brother is concerned. Is it not so, Mr De Walden?”

“So far as I know,” said the missionary affectionately, “nothing at all.”

“I hope not,” said Ernest, in a low tone; “but this is very awful.”

“Sudden deaths are always awful. But you have now to consider what you will do. I thought, when I first heard it, that you would return to England and go to one of the Universities. But I perceive that there is an attraction that may keep you here.”

“Yes, Charles, I cannot but view this strange and unexpected event as a solution of the difficulty that has been burdening my mind for many weeks past. But I should like to have Mr De Walden’s advice. He must have seen, I think, the attachment between myself and Ella – ”

“Yes, Ernest, and I have seen in it the working of God’s merciful providence for the enlightenment of the heathen in this land of darkness and superstition.”

“You think, then, that I ought to stay here and take up your work when you leave for Namaqua-land, as I know you mean to do some day?”

“Even so. I mean that you should remain here, and become the husband of this dear girl, who is worthy to be the bride of a king. The wilderness has indeed blossomed as the rose for you. But I do not advise that your marriage should take place at once. Return to England, and prepare yourself for your office by two or three years of study, such as you can pursue only there. Meanwhile, I will remain here till your return, and complete the education of your future wife. Then, seek ordination, which also, unhappily, you cannot obtain in Southern Africa. Some day, God will set up His Church in this land, and it will grow like the mustard seed, and the people will rest under its shadow. But that time is still far off. Let it be your work, as it has been mine, to prepare the furrows for the seed that will then be cast in. Will you do this?”

“God being my helper,” answered Ernest, “I will.”

Appendix

The Hottentot God

The worship of the beetle by the Hottentots has been disputed. No doubt it has not been their practice during the last fifty years. But that it existed in more ancient times, is (I think) abundantly proved by the evidence of trustworthy writers. Kolben, for example, has the following explicit statement, made from his own experience.

“The Hottentots adore as a benignant Deity, a certain insect, peculiar (it is said) to the Hottentot countries. This animal is of the dimensions of a child’s little finger; the back green, the belly speckled white and red. It is provided with two wings and two horns. To this little winged Deity, whenever they set eyes on it, they render the highest tokens of veneration. If it honours their kraal with a visit, the inhabitants assemble round it with transports of devotion, as if the Lord of the Universe was come among them. If the insect happens to alight on a Hottentot, he is looked upon as a man without guilt, and distinguished and reverenced as a saint and the delight of the Deity ever after. They declared to me that if this deified insect had been killed, all their cattle would certainly have been destroyed by wild beasts, and they themselves, every man, woman, and child of them, brought to a miserable end.” —Kolben, volume one, page 99.

Kaffir Prophets

The scriptural curse of the “false prophet” has never been more strikingly fulfilled, than in the instance of the Kaffir nation in the year 1856. A false prophet, named Umhlahara, professed to have received a revelation from heaven through the visions of a girl, commanding the Kaffirs to kill the whole of their cattle, and promising that, in the event of their obedience, all their forefathers, together with their cattle, should rise to life again, that they should regain their ascendancy in the land, and live in plenty and prosperity for evermore. The object of this audacious imposture was to reduce the whole nation on a sudden to such a state of suffering that, in their desperation, they would burst in upon the settlements of the white men, and everywhere exterminate them. It is strange that in a country where the flocks and herds constitute the sole wealth of the people, such an attempt should have succeeded. But it did so to a considerable extent, at all events. Those who had contrived it, however, had made one fatal omission. They ought to have concentrated the whole people on the English border, and they forgot that men enfeebled by famine would be unfitted for warfare, or indeed for any lengthened travel. An attempt was made to remedy the blunder by postponing the day of the resurrection of the chiefs and cattle, but it failed. The people had discovered the imposture, though not until they were reduced to the most frightful condition of starvation. The English colonists did all that lay in their power to relieve them, but they were wholly unable to remedy the mischief. Vast numbers died everywhere by the most terrible of all deaths, and the strength of the nation was so completely broken by the disaster, that they were rendered wholly incapable of continuing the warfare, for which in former days they had been so renowned.

Wreck of the Grosvenor

All the particulars of the wreck of this ill-fated vessel have been given in the narrative. The whole of the crew and passengers, except seventeen, escaped safe to land, to the number of one hundred and fifty. In accordance with the proposal of the captain, they endeavoured to make their way overland to Cape Town; but after a few days’ travel, during which they were harassed by the Kaffirs with repeated attacks, a fresh consultation took place. Forty-three able-bodied men persevered in the attempt. Of these, some three or four, after terrible perils and hardships, succeeded in reaching Cape Town. What became of those who were left has never been certainly known. Rumours, which are mentioned by Le Vaillant and others, declare that some women at all events survived, and were compelled to become the wives of native chiefs. An expedition was even sent out to search for these, but failed, more apparently from want of capacity in those conducting it than from anything else. Under these circumstances the fate of those who remained behind may, not unfairly, be made the subject of fiction.