"Well, my good man, take a glass of grog, will ye? and here, give your wife a glass of wine, and then go and betake yourselves to rest, in the quietest corner you can find.—Here, steward, see that Serjeant Quacco and his wife are cared for—a corner forward of some kind or another until morning."
"Never say such a ting, massa—de men were unpleasant company—can't go to dem—so I bring my vife to sleep wid you."
"Mighty obliged, master serjeant—but would rather be excused, if it be the same thing to you."
"Ho, ho, ho," laughed the savage—"I mean, massa, dat you would permit we to sleep at foot of de ladder dere, and not be obliged to go among de rude peoples in de oder part of de sip."
"Well, well, do as you please; but let me go and secure a couple of hours' sleep, before the tide turns, will ye?"
"Certainly, massa—would like to drink your health, though, massa—Leetle more grog, please, massa."
"Not another drop, sir.—Steward, see Serjeant Quacco and his wife safely bestowed under the ladder there, and then fasten the door."
Here Quacco once more stuck his round head in at the door. "Massa, I beg one fowl to kill before de fetish."
"Get along with you, sir—away."
Our black visitors finally disappeared, and I turned round to look at my shipmates. The first lieutenant had fallen back, with his head resting against the small side-berth, sound asleep, with a piece of beef on his fork, the latter firmly clutched in his hands; Dick Lanyard had fairly slipped down, until he hung by his chin on the edge of the table, like a parrot suspended by his beak; old Pumpbolt had slid off his chair altogether, and was fast enough on the bare deck, with his unquenched pipe sticking in his mouth; while the poor little reefers had fallen forward with their heads on the table; Dick Marline having actually dropped with his nose into his plate, amongst the beef and potatoes; and all snoring most melodiously. We were in truth completely done up; so, leaving our friends stretched on the lockers and in the berths, and bestowed as well as the slender means of the small vessel permitted, I adjourned to the deck once more, in my capacity of pilot, to see how the weather looked.
I then returned to the cabin, and having desired the steward, who was comparatively fresh, to call me when the tide turned, I offered up my short but heart-warm prayer of thanksgiving to the God of my fathers for his great mercy vouchsafed to me during the past day; and imploring his gracious protection during the coming night, I lay down in my berth, where in a minute I was as sound asleep as the others.
[1] Brains.
[2] Dirge—burial.
CHAPTER V.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF SERJEANT QUACCO.
I had scarcely, to my conception, been asleep at all, when I was called again. "If ever I practise the calling of a pilot in this wide world after this!" said I to myself as I stumbled, yawning and stretching, about the confined cabin.
It might have been about eleven at night when I got on deck. There was a heavy ground-swell tumbling in upon us over the bar, which made the little vessel pitch violently.
"See all clear to cut away the kedge," said I.
But there was no need; for the swell that rolled in was as yet deep, dark, and unbroken. I looked forth into the night, endeavouring by the starlight, for the moon was obscured by a thick bank of clouds in the eastern horizon, to distinguish the whereabouts of the bar at the river's mouth, but all was black flowing water, and there was no sound of breakers; so I again went below, and in a minute slept as sound as before.
I cannot precisely say how long I had been in the land of dreams, when I was again roused by the steward calling Mr. Lanyard.
"Mr. Wadding"—this was the gunner of the little vessel—"does not like the look of the weather, sir; it has become somewhat threatening, and the felucca is riding very uneasy since the tide has turned, sir."
The sharp jerking motion of the small craft corroborated the man's account but too forcibly; and once more I went on deck, accompanied by the lieutenant, where I was a good deal startled by the scene before me. The ebb-tide was now running down, and past us like a mill-stream; and the bar, which a couple of hours before was all black and undistinguishable, began now to be conspicuous, from a crescent of white waves which shone even through the darkness; while a deep and increasing hoarse murmur, "like thunder heard remote," was borne up the river towards us on the night wind. The foaming breakers on the bar, as the tide continued to fall, spread out; and in an hour, the rush of the tide downwards, and the tumble of the sea inwards, placed us, even at the distance of our anchorage, in a regular cauldron of broken water, where the little craft was knocked about as if she belonged to nobody, while every moment I expected the cable to part.
It was a regular snow-storm; the swell, broken on the bar, roared into the river in splashing waves, which, when the downward current dashed against them, flew up in spouts, covering every thing with spray, that was puffed away seaward like smoke by the sharp land-breeze which had suddenly set down, counter-checking in a moment the regular easterly trade-wind. The little vessel was thus kicked here and yerked there, as if it had been a cork in the midst of the bubbling of a boiling pot. Oh! how I longed for daylight! At length daylight came, and the sun began to exhale the dank pestiferous vapours that towards grey dawn had once more mantled over the water.
For an hour it was again so thick that we could see nothing in the direction of the bar; but the noise of the breakers continued to increase; and as the boats alongside were by this time, notwithstanding all our endeavours, half full of water, I feared that, even when the tide began to answer again, we should be unable to send one of them down to sound; so there we lay in the miserable consciousness of having been foiled in our object on the one hand, and with small prospect of being able to get out to rejoin the frigate on the other. At length, towards seven o'clock, the mist rose; the unwholesome smell of mud, and slime, and putrifying vegetables was no longer perceptible, and the glorious sun once more shone on the broad expanse of rushing waters. The mangrove-covered banks became again distinctly visible and well-defined, and the horizon seaward began to look blue, clear, and cheery. But all this while the bar was one bow of roaring foam; that increased as the sea-breeze freshened, and fairly stifled the terral, until there was not one solitary narrow streak of blue water in the whole breadth of the river's mouth.
Dick was pacing the deck in no small perplexity I saw, debating in his own mind whether or not he should send below and rouse out Mr. Sprawl, when the surgeon passed me.
"Good morning, doctor."
He returned the salute.
"How