O'er Many Lands, on Many Seas by Gordon Stables (top 10 most read books in the world .txt) 📕

But the breeze seemed in no hurry to come. During the day those dull

dreamy woods and forests lay asleep in the sunshine, and stirred not

leaf or twig, and the creatures that dwelt therein were as silent as the

woods around them. Had you landed on that still shore, and wandered

inland through the trees, you would have seen great lizards enjoying

themselves in patches of sunlight, an occasional monkey enjoying a nap

at a tree foot or squatting on a bough blinking at the birds that--

open-beaked as if gasping for more air--sat among the branches too

languid to hop or fly. But except a startled cry at your presence

emitted by some of these, hardly any other sound would have fallen on

your ears.

The only creatures that seemed to be busy were the beetles on the ground

and the bees, the latter long, dark, dangerous-looking hornets that flew

in clouds about the lime and orange-trees, and behaved as if all the

forest belonged to them, the former of all shapes and sizes, and of

colours more brilliant than the rainbow. No doubt they knew exactly

what they were about and had their ideas carefully arranged, but what

their business was in particular would have puzzled any human being to

tell--why they dug pits and rolled little pieces of stones down them, or

why they pulled pieces of sticks along bigger than themselves, dropped

them, apparently without reason, and went in search of others. There

was, one would have thought, no method in the madness of these strange

but lovely creatures: it looked as though they were doomed to keep

moving, doomed to keep on working, and doing something, no matter what.

In the great river itself sometimes small herds of hippopotami would

appear, especially in parts where the water was shallow. They came but

to enjoy a sunshine bath and siesta.

But at night both forest and river seemed to awaken from their slumbers.

The river cows now came on shore to feed, and their grunting and

bellowing, that often ended in a kind of shriek, mingled [Two pages

missing here].

"Well, my friend, how much for your bananas, and that bottle of honey,

and those eggs, and fowls? Come, I'll buy the lot," said the boatswain.

"De Arab chief come in big ship, two three week ago. De ship he hide in

de bush. He come to-night when de moon am shine. He come on board you

big ship, plenty knife, plenty spear, plenty gun, killee you all for

true. Den he take all de money and all de chow-chow. Plenty much

bobbery he makee, plenty much blood he spillee, plenty much murder.

Sweeba tell you for true."

While this conversation was going on the fruit, eggs, and fowls were

being handed on board and money thrown into the boat, which was quickly

concealed by the natives in their cummerbunds.

They found themselves richer than they had ever been before in their

lives.

"But why do you come and tell us?" then inquired Roberts. (Roberts, by

the way, was the only one the native would converse with. He had

eagerly requested the captain and officers to keep away, for fear of

exciting the suspicion of those who he averred were lurking in the

forest.)

"What for I come and tellee you?" he replied. "English have been good

to me many time 'fore now. Arab chief he bad man. He come to my house,

he tie me to a tree by de neck. He think I dead. Den he takee my poor

wife away, and all de poor piccaninnies. My poor ole mudder she berry

bad. She not fit to trabbel away to de bush, so he cut her head off,

and trow her in de blaze. He burn all my hut, all my house. I not lub

dat Arab chief berry berry much."

"I shouldn't think you did," was the reply; "but now, my friend, if all

goes well come back to-morrow, and we will reward you."

About eight o'clock that same night, the full moon rose slowly up over

the woods, bathing the trees in a soft blue haze, but changing the

river, 'twixt the ship and the distant shore, into a broad pathway of

light that shimmered and shone like molten gold. There was hardly a

cloud in the heaven's dark blue, and the stars shone with unusual

brilliancy.

No one was visible on the _Niobe's_ decks, and never a light burned

aloft, but, nevertheless, sentinels were watching the water on all

sides, and down below the crew, fully armed, were waiting. The guns

were all ready to run out, and there was no talking save in whispers,

and when any one had occasion to cross the deck he did it so lightly

that you could scarcely have heard his footfall.

Except the officers of the watch, all others were in the saloon or

ward-room. They too were armed, but passing the time in quietly playing

draughts and other games. Instead of being in his cabin, the captain

was there along with his officers.

Presently the boatswain, whose duty it was to keep one of the

night-watches, came quietly in to make a report.

"There are no signs yet, sir. The forest is quiet enough, except for

the birds and beasts. It is very bright now. If they do come, we will

have light enough to give 'em fits."

"I hope they will, then," replied the captain; "I sincerely trust that

tall native wasn't a-gammoning us."

"I feel sure enough he wasn't, sir."

"Hark!" cried the captain.

It was the sentry's hail. Next moment his rifle rang out on the night

air. It seemed to be caught up by the echoes of the forest, and the

sound multiplied indefinitely, but there was instant evidence that this

was no echo.

A long line of fire swept across the forest shore, and bullets rattled

through the rigging or on the vessel's sides.

The attack was about to commence.

Guns were speedily run out in the direction from which the volley had

come, and just by way of showing the enemy that the _Niobe_ was

prepared, two loaded with shrapnel were fired.

The yell of rage and pain that rang through the forest, told plainly

enough that some of the savages had bitten the dust. The battle had

begun.

But it was not to be a fight of rifle against big guns. The Arabs,

unless at close quarters, are ever at disadvantage. The chief who led

this particular band bore a fierce and implacable hatred to the English

race, more especially to those who wore the blue uniform of the Royal

Navy. Many a time had he been thwarted in his designs by the ubiquitous

British cruiser, and, sword in hand, he had sworn by Allah--sworn on his

"book"--to have revenge.

His time, it almost seemed, had come to-night. Though far south when

the first news of the disaster to the _Niobe_ had been brought to him by

a swift-footed Somali spy, Zareppa had lost no time in setting sail in

his largest dhow--he was the proud owner of many--and making his way

north.

It was no trouble for this daring piratical slaver to cross the bar even

on a light wind. He had stolen up the river by night unseen, and soon

after planned his attack.

Now at the very moment that a whole fleet of canoes filled with armed

Somalis and Arabs left the forest shore, under cover of volley after

volley from the bush, Zareppa, the pirate chief, was stealing round the

corner of the bay with over a hundred of his best warriors, who were

lying down so that they might not be seen, to attack the _Niobe_ on the

other quarter.

Swiftly came they while guns thundered forestward, and all hands lay on

the port side to repel boarders. It looked as though the fate of the

good ship were sealed.

Till this moment the soldier sergeant--my father--had lain apparently

helpless and apathetic in a screen berth on the main deck. But the

sound of warfare will stir the blood of even a dying soldier, as the

blast of a bugle does that of the aged and worn-out war-horse. No

sooner had the firing commenced than he started from his cot and

speedily dressed himself, often tottering as he did so.

Captain Roberts tells me that even then my father could hardly have

known what he was about: that all he could have been certain of was that

a fight was going on, and it was his duty to be in it.

Grasping sword and pistol, he rushed on deck. Still staggering, and

gazing wildly around him, almost the first thing he saw was the approach

of Zareppa's boats. He was all alive now, he rushed across the deck,

and more by gesture than by voice made the commander aware of the

terrible danger.

None too soon. Already the heads of the foremost boarders were

appearing above the bulwarks. But our men were speedily divided into

two parties, and in a minute more the battle was raging fiercely on both

sides of the deck.

"Deen! Deen! Deen!" was the fierce and shrill Arab war-cry.

"Hurrah! hurrah!" was the bold and answering shout of our marines and

bluejackets.

The tall form of Zareppa seemed everywhere. It towered high on the

bulwarks. It was seen springing down on deck, and vaulting backwards,

and wherever it came death followed in its wake.

Soon no sound even of pistol was heard. It was a hand-to-hand fight

_on_ deck, for the _Niobe_ had been boarded: hand to hand, and breast to

breast; cutlass and sword 'gainst Somali dagger and Arab spear. There

were the shrieks of pain, the cries of exultation, and horrible oaths as

well, I blush to say, mingling with the groans of the dying in this

dreadful _melee_.

How peacefully the moon shone--how quiet and lovely and still the forest

looked all around! How great the contrast 'twixt man and nature!

But, see! the fight is finished. The enemy are borne backwards into the

sea. Our fellows hack them down as they fly, for they are wild with the

excitement of the strife.

But high on the poop a young soldier is engaged in a deadly strife with

the Arab chief himself. All his skill would hardly save Zareppa. For

several minutes the duel seemed to rage. Then with a wild rash the Arab

dashed forward on the soldier, his sword passed through his body and--my

father fell dead.

"English dogs!" shouted Zareppa, standing for a moment on the bulwarks

with bleeding sword upheld. "Dogs of English, Zareppa's day will come!

Beware!"

He would have vaulted into the sea, but up from behind the very place

where he stood rose a dark naked figure. A dagger gleamed one instant

in its hand, and next was plunged into the back of the chief, who gave a

fearful shriek.

"Ha! ha! aha!" yelled this strange figure, "Zareppa's day _hab_ come.

Plenty quick. Ha!"

The Arab chief fell face forward on the deck.

It was the negro Sweeba, who had brought the news of the intended

attack.

From his own side of the river he had heard the firing and the wild

shouts that told of the raging combat, and had speedily launched his

rude canoe, intent on revenge for the murder of his poor wife and babes.

"Hope, with her prizes and victories won,

Shines in the blue of my morning sun,

Conquering hope with golden ray,

Blessing my landscape far away."

Tupper.

Not a single prisoner was taken.

Those who were not fatally wounded had sprung overboard.

The rest of the night passed in quietness, but when day broke, the sun

shone on a sad and ghastly scene. There still lay about broken

cutlasses, spears, torn pieces of cloth, and all the _debris_ of fight,

and blood, blood everywhere.

On one side of the deck, with upturned faces, lay in ghastly array the

dead of the enemy, on the other our own poor fellows had been put, and

carefully covered with flags.

All hands were summoned to prayers, to bury the dead and clear up decks.

When, after service, the commander and his officers--alas! among those

who lay beneath the Union Jack were one or two officers--went round