Ran Away to Sea

Both males and females were there – for both had succeeded in making their way on deck – but amid that thick swarm their sex could not be distinguished. Strange to say, they were no longer black! Not one of them looked black – on the contrary, they appeared red! Their faces, the skin of their naked bodies, even the woolly coverture of their crowns, showed blood-red under the glaring light of the blazing pitch; and this singular transformation added not a little to rendering the scene more terrific – for there was something supernatural in this altered complexion.

The whole scene might have been compared to the final of some grand theatrical spectacle – it had all the grandeur, the red light, and the scenic embellishment – but in two circumstances it widely differed from the fictitious imitation. There was not that variety of forms and colours in the tableaux, and, moreover, the characters were not as upon the stage – in poses and attitudes that betokened rest. On the contrary, all were in motion. Their arms were tossing wildly above their heads, while they themselves were leaping upward or dancing to and fro wherever they could find footing. They were shouting in tones of despair, screaming in agonised accents; while some, who had evidently gone mad, were gibbering and laughing in voices that bore a striking resemblance to that of the hyena!

The strong light enabled me to trace everything minutely – alas, too minutely! I could see the white gleaming teeth, the frothing lips, the eyes glaring in madness or terror. We were still scarce a cable’s length from them. I could note every movement as if I had been in their midst, or within ten feet of them. They all stood fronting in the direction of the raft; and for this reason I could note their gestures, and even distinguish the expression upon their features.

Among other things I saw women – I knew they were women only from their being smaller than those around – I saw women lift up little dark forms as high as they could raise them, and hold them out in the direction of the raft. They were their children, their infant piccaninnies, and this was intended as a supplication to the white runaways to come back and save them. Others stretched forth their arms and stood in attitudes of entreaty; while men – the stronger and fiercer ones – shook their clenched fists in the air and hurled after us loud cries of menace.

Awe-inspiring as was the spectacle, it was neither the threats of the men nor the supplications of the women that was causing all commotion among the crew on the raft.

Part of the blaspheming and loud talk that could be heard there arose from anger that the blacks had been let out; and we could hear several voices inquiring, in harsh angry tones. “Who has done it? Who has done it?”

These questions were not asked simply thus, but with the embellishments of horrid oaths and exclamations that cannot be repeated.

It was just as my companion and I were parting from the bows, that we heard these questions asked, and so earnest was the tone of the inquirers, that I at once saw that I had placed myself in a position of danger.

It appeared that I had committed an imprudence. My humanity had hurried me to an act that could be of no service in saving the lives of those I intended to benefit, but was likely to bring destruction upon all – myself among the rest.

I can scarce say that I repented of what I had done. I should have done the same deed again. I could have not restrained myself. I had followed the promptings of mercy. How could I have acted otherwise?

I had such reflections at the moment, or something like them. I cannot exactly describe my thoughts, for a tumult of strange emotions was passing through my mind.

I now perceived the danger which threatened the two rafts: I perceived it on looking back toward burning the vessel: the blacks were threatening to swim after, and seek refuge upon the rafts. Large numbers of them showed that they had formed this intention. It was apparent from their movements and attitudes. They were swarming over the bulwarks and down the sides. They had gathered along the beam-ends and seemed every moment on the eve of launching their bodies into the water!

Chapter Fifty Seven

No wonder the sailors were alarmed. Should the blacks carry out their intention, enough of them might reach the raft to sink her – enough of them, perhaps, to fling the white men into the sea and themselves take possession of that frail chance for life. Whatever might be the event, it was clear that if they came on, certain destruction must result to one or other, or most likely to all. As for my companion and myself, we appeared in a position of greater peril, even than those upon the raft, for we were between them and the threatened danger. But we had no fears from this source; we were certain that if no accident arose to our craft we could propel it faster than a man could swim – though so little faster that it would have been a tight race had we been pursued. However, having so many yards of start we had little to fear.

We kept on, intending to overtake the raft and fasten our floating planks alongside it; and this purpose, after a few minutes, we succeeded in effecting.

Brace had cautioned me as we came up to say nothing, of what I had done.

“For your life say nothing, for certainly,” said he, “they will throw you into the sea and me along with you. Say not a word,” whispered he, as a final caution – “not a word, even if they question you. I’ll answer them if they do.”

He was called upon to do so, and dexterously did he execute his design.

“Hilloa!” hailed several as we approached – “who are ye? Ho! Brace and that precious boy Bill. Was it you that let the niggers above board? Was it either of you?”

These questions were put with the usual vulgar embellishments.

“No!” responded Brace, in an indignant tone and of course telling the truth as far as he was concerned – “How could we? We were down by the bows, and couldn’t see ’em. I wonder how they did get loose? They must a broke through when ye knocked off the batten. I seed nothin’ of ’em till we were out in the water. I was under the head makin’ this bit o’ raft. I was affeerd there wouldn’t be room for all – lend a hand here one o’ ye, and hitch this thing on – it’ll help to keep a couple o’ us afloat anyhow.”

By this appeal for help my companion dexterously turned the conversation, so that no further questions were asked about who set free the blacks. Indeed, there was no opportunity to talk any more upon the matter, for at this crisis the attention of every one upon the raft had become earnestly fixed upon that dark, red cloud that clustered along the side of the vessel.

Strange to say the negroes had been for some minutes in this position – with every appearance of a purpose to leap outward into the water and swim towards the raft – and yet, not one of them had sprung forth! They seemed like men determined to do a thing, but who waited for a signal from some leader. Either that, or some one to take the lead himself and set the example – just like a mob of soldiers crowded together on the field of battle – as soldiers always are at such times – prepared to charge forward and rush even upon death itself, if some bold spirit will only give the word and go forward in advance of them. So stood the crowd of blacks, threatening to plunge into the sea and yet hesitating to do so.

We wondered at their hesitation. What could they mean by holding back? The raft appeared the only chance for their lives – though a poor respite it would be. Nevertheless, men who are about to be burned or drowned will cling to a less hope than that. Why, then, did they not jump overboard and swim after, as all expected them to have done before this? Could they swim? or could they not? These were the questions that now passed rapidly from mouth to mouth on board the raft, and were answered with equal rapidity, though the answers were but guesses, and did not correspond. They were both negative and affirmative. Some alleged that they could not. If this were true, then the position of affairs could be explained at once: the hesitation of the blacks to take to the water would, upon this hypothesis, be easily understood. However, there were but few who held this opinion. It was quite improbable that it could be the true one – quite improbable that in all that crowd there was not any one who could swim – for even one would have taken to the sea in hopes of finding refuge upon the raft – forlorn as the hope may have been. No, the negative supposition was not to be entertained for a moment. It is well-known that most of the natives of Africa not only swim but are most excellent swimmers. Their mode of life renders the art a necessity among them. Living on the banks of great rivers, by the shores of those immense lakes in which Central Africa abounds, often requiring to cross streams that are deep and rapid, and where no bridges exist, these people are compelled by their very wants to become experts swimmers. Besides, their hot climate renders the exercise a pleasant one, and many tribes of them spend half their time in the water.

It was highly improbable that they could not swim – all, or nearly all, of them. No, this was not the cause of their hesitancy.

And what was?

This question was answered by one of the sailors – though all of us at the same moment perceived the cause.

“Look yonder!” cried the man, pointing along the water; “look yonder; yon’s what cows ’em – the sharks!”

Chapter Fifty Eight

The stretch of water that lay between the raft and the burning vessel glittered under the yellow light like a sea of molten gold. On its calm surface the blazing barque was mirrored, as though another was on fire below; but the perfect image was broken by occasional rippling, as if some living creatures were stirring through the water. The very intensity of the light, dazzling our eyes, prevented us from scanning the surface with any degree of minuteness. It was like looking against the sun as the bright orb rises or sets over the sea. The strong light glancing along the water produced a sheen and a sparkle that half-blinded us; and, although we had observed an occasional eddy or rippling motion upon the surface, we had not thought of the cause until that moment.

Now, however, that our attention was called to this moving of the waters we had no difficulty in making out the cause. It was the sharks that were darting about – now rushing impatiently from point to point; now lying in wait, silent and watchful, like cats, ready to spring upon their prey. Here and there we could see their huge dorsal fins standing like gaff-topsails above the surface, now cleaving the water like huge blades of steel, anon dipping below to appear again at some point nearer to their expected prey.

From the number of these fins that we observed above water, we came to the conclusion that there must be hundreds of these voracious creatures around the blazing barque. In fact there was a perfect “school” of them, like porpoises or minnows – for the longer we gazed the greater number of fins and rippling eddies were detected, until at times it appeared as if the whole surface was thickly covered with these preying fish!

Their numbers, too, seemed to be continually increasing. On looking out to sea others might be noticed swimming up, as if they had come from a distance. No doubt that red conflagration was a signal that summoned them from afar. Like enough the sight was not new to them – it was not the first time they had witnessed the burning of a ship and had been present at the spectacle; before now they had assisted at the dénouement, and were ever after ready to welcome such a catastrophe, and hasten towards it from afar.

I really could not help thinking that these monsters of the deep possessed some such intelligence, as they swam around the fated barque – casting towards it their ogreish expecting looks.

They came around the raft as well – indeed, they appeared to be thicker there than elsewhere – as though we who stood upon it were to be the prey that would first fall into their ravenous jaws. So thick were they, that two or three could be seen side by side, swimming together as though they were yoked; and at each moment they grew bolder and came nearer to the timbers. Some already swam so close to the raft, that they were within reach of a blow from the handspikes, but not any one attempted to touch them. On the contrary, the word was passed round for no one to strike or assail them in any way. Just then they were doing good work; they were to be let alone!

Little as the sailors would have liked to see such shoals of these dreaded creatures at any other time – for between sailor and shark there is a constant antipathy – just then the sight was welcome to them. They knew that they themselves were out of reach of the hideous monsters; and at a glance they had comprehended the advantage they were deriving from their presence. They saw that they were the guardians of the raft – and that, but for them, the blacks would long since have taken to the water and followed it. The fear of the sharks alone restrained them; and no wonder it did, for the whole surface of the sea between the blazing vessel and the raft now seemed alive with these horrid creatures!

It was no longer wondered at that the negroes had not precipitated themselves into the water and swam after us. It would have been a bold leap for any of them to have taken – a leap, as it were, into the very jaws of death.

And, yet, death was behind them – death quick and sure, and, perhaps, of all others the most painful – death by fire. In setting the poor wretches free, I had been under the humane impression that I had given them the easier alternative of being drowned. I now saw that I was mistaken. No such alternative was in their power. There was no longer a choice between burning and drowning. It now lay between burning and being devoured by the sharks!

Chapter Fifty Nine

An awful alternative it was, and for a long while the ill-starred victims seemed to linger in their choice. Hard choice between two horrid forms of death! Little did it matter which, and the knowledge of this rendered them indifferent whether to spring forth or stand still. Death was before them as well as behind – turn which way they might, death stared them in the face – soon and certain – and on every side they saw its threatening arm – before, behind, above, and around them. The utter hopelessness of escape had numbed their energies – they were paralysed by despair.

But even in the hour of the most hopeless despair there arrives a crisis when men will still struggle for life – it is the last struggle – the final conflict as it were, with death itself. No one yields up life without this effort, though it be ever so idle. The drowning man does not voluntarily permit himself to sink below the surface. He still strives to keep afloat, though he may not have the slightest hope of being rescued. The effort is partly involuntary – it is the body that still continues to battle for life, after the mind has resigned all hope – the last stand that existence makes against annihilation. It may be a purely mechanical effort – perhaps it is so – but who ever saw a strong man compelled to part suddenly with life, that did not make such a struggle? Even the condemned criminal upon the gallows continues to strive till the breath has parted from his body. Something like this last despairing effort aroused the energies of that hesitating crowd that clustered upon the burning barque. The crisis at length came.

The flames were fast rushing forward, and spreading over all the deck. Their red jets, spurting out beyond the selvage of smoke, began to touch the bodies of their victims, and pain them with the fierce sting of fire. It produced no augmentation in their cries of agony. These had long since reached the climax, and the voices of those who uttered them had been already raised to their highest pitch. But the close proximity of the flames, and the absolute certainty of being now destroyed by them, caused a general movement throughout the living mass; and, as if actuated by an universal impulse, or guided by one common instinct, all were seen making a sudden descent upon the water.

Those who had been hitherto standing along the side were not the first to leap. It was they who were farther back, and of course nearer to the flames, who first took to the water; and these, rushing over the bulwarks – and even stepping upon the shoulders of those who were clustered there – without further hesitation flung themselves headlong into the sea. But the impulse seemed to communicate itself to the others, and almost instantaneously – as if some one had proclaimed a way to safety and was leading them on to it – the whole crowd followed the foremost and went plunging into the water. In a few seconds not an individual could be seen – of all that dark swarm that had so lately crowded the fore-part of the vessel, not one was now visible on board. Simultaneously had they deserted the burning wreck!

A wild scene was now presented in the water. The whole surface was thick with human forms, plunging and struggling together. Some were evidently unable to swim, and, with their bodies half erect, were tossing their arms about in vain efforts to keep above the surface. Here and there several clung together, until two or three – or in some instances larger groups – dragged one another below, and sank to the bottom together. Strong swimmers were observed separating from the rest, and forging out into the open water. Of these the heads only could be seen, and rapidly closing upon them the dark vertical fin that told the presence of the pursuing shark.

Then could be heard the wild, despairing cry – then could be seen the quick rush of the monster upon his prey – the water lashed by his tail – the foam thrown up, already tinged with the blood of the victim – and, after that, the surface returning to its level – the eddies and red frothing bubbles alone marking for a few moments the scene of each tragical crisis.

Oh! it was an awful spectacle to look upon – this wholesale ravening of sharks – and even those who were upon the raft, with all their inhumanity and heartless cruelty of disposition could not behold it without emotion.

It was scarce an emotion of pity, however. Perhaps of all, Brace and I were the only ones who felt pity. Some were indifferent, but the majority of them – although a little awed by the tragical scene – were actually glad at beholding it! It may be wrong of me to say they were glad – what I mean is, that they felt a secret satisfaction at what was going on – springing not from pure wanton cruelty of heart, but rather from an instinct of self-preservation. Hitherto, these men had been in great dread of the blacks overtaking the raft – they were not yet free from the fear – and, of course, with this in their minds, they regarded with satisfaction the wholesale ravage that the sharks were committing. By this their own danger was every moment diminished – hence it is that they were gratified at the hideous spectacle.

But numerous as were the sharks, there were not enough of them to make total destruction of that vast crowd of human beings. After the first general attack the ravenous brutes appeared to become scarcer and scarcer, until but one here and one there, could be seen rushing upon their prey. The greater number, having already secured a victim, were satisfied and perhaps had gone down to their haunts in the darker deep – while hundreds of human heads were still observable above the surface of the water.

The flames, still flaring brilliantly, illumined the sea as if the day was shining upon it; and it could be observed that the faces of the survivors were all turned in the direction of the raft, towards which they were swimming with all their strength.

Once more the sailors became inspired with apprehension – once more they dreaded that their last hour was come, and that they themselves might soon be struggling among the sharks.

Chapter Sixty

There was much shouting among the white men and many wild exclamations, but no time was lost in idle talk – for every one was doing his best to propel the raft. The shouts were only an accompaniment to their actions. Nearly every one wielded some implement, which had been grappled in the hurry of the moment. Some were provided with oars, others had only handspikes, and still others assisted in paddling with pieces of board that had been obtained from old coops, or the bulwarks broken by the falling mast. Those who could find nothing better stretched themselves along the edge of the raft and beat the water with their hands, in order to aid in producing a forward motion.

But the great masses of timber – not yet firmly lashed together – lay loose and loggish upon the water, and moved very slowly and irregularly under such ill-assorted propulsion: and, notwithstanding that the raft had obtained a hundred yards the start of the swimmers, its occupants began seriously to dread being overtaken.

They had reason to fear it. There could be no doubt that the pursuers were gaining upon us, and this soon became evident to all upon the raft. Nay, more, they were gaining rapidly; and, at the rate at which they were swimming, five minutes could not pass before they would overtake us.

Those upon the raft were now quite conscious that such would be the event. Paddle and beat the water as they might they could not propel the heavy timbers beyond a certain rate of speed – not so fast as a man could swim. Notwithstanding their exertions, and the advantage of their long start, they saw they were going to be overtaken.

It could not be otherwise – there was nothing now to obstruct the pursuit – nothing to stay the pursuers. The sharks, having sated their appetites, had let most of the swimmers escape. Occasionally one was seen to go down with a shriek, but this was the exception – the rest swam freely on.

What was their motive in following us? was it vengeance, or a despairing hope of being saved? Perhaps both, – but no matter which, there were enough of them to overpower the white men by sheer strength; and, once they succeeded in reaching us, it was not likely they would fail to avenge themselves for the wrongs that had been put upon them.

Should they succeed in overtaking the raft they would easily climb upon it; a few might be kept back, but it would be impossible for thirty men to repulse hundreds; and the crowd would soon crawl over the edge, and, with their additional weight, sink the frail structure to the bottom of the sea.

Should they succeed in reaching the raft – there was no need of any supposition – they would be certain to overtake it – even at that moment there were some of them scarce ten yards off, and coming nearer at every fresh stroke of their arms. These, however, were the strongest swimmers, who were far ahead of the rest. The main body were still twenty yards further off; but it was plain that the slowest of them swam faster than the raft was moving.

Most of the sailors began to give way to despair. The wicked deeds of an ill-spent life were rising before them. To all appearance their last hour had come.

And mine, too – at least, so believed I at that moment.

It was hard to die thus – by such horrid means, and in such company. Sound in health, the love of life was strong within me; and under this impulse I almost repented what I had done. It was I who had brought about this last terrible contingency, and my own life was now to be the forfeit. Yes; I had acted imprudently, rashly, and I will not deny that at that moment I came near repenting of what I had done.

It was not a time for reflection. The crisis had arrived. We must all yield up life. The sea would soon receive us within its ample embrace. Masters and slaves, tyrants and their victims, must all perish together!

Such were the thoughts that were rushing through my brain, as I saw the black swimmers approach. I no longer felt sympathy or pity for them. On the contrary, I viewed them as enemies – as dreaded monsters who were about to destroy and devour us – to engulph us all in one common destruction, and among the rest myself – their late benefactor. Really, at that moment, in the confusion of my thoughts, I was regarding these unfortunate creatures as though they were voluntary agents – as though they were actuated by gratuitous cruelty and revenge, and not victims of despair struggling for the preservation of their own lives.