Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.Two days afterwards found the one-legged lieutenant and his young companions on their way to Portsmouth. Ned bore the parting manfully, though he did not the less acutely feel having to wish good-bye to Aunt Sally, Mary, and Tom Baraka.“If you go to my country, Massa Ned, an’ if you see any ob my people, tell dem where Tom Baraka is,” said the black, as he wrung Ned’s hand. “Dare is one ting I long for—to find my wife and boy, and to tell dem dat I Christian, an’ want dem to be Christian also.”“You have not told me your son’s name, so that even should I meet him, I should not know that he is your son,” said Ned.“Him called Chando,” answered Tom. “Him know dat name when you call him.”“And your wife—what is her name?” asked Ned. “Him—Masika,” said Tom after a few moments’ thought—it was so long since he had uttered his wife’s name. “O Massa Ned, you bring dem back, and God bless you.”“Chando—Masika,” repeated Ned. “But I am afraid that there is very little chance of my finding your family, Tom, though I should be truly thankful to meet with them; I don’t know even to what part of the coast of Africa I am going. It is a large country, and though I may see thousands of the inhabitants, those you care for may not be among them.”“Massa Ned, if God wish to bring dem to you, He can find de way,” said the black, in a tone of simple faith. “I no say He will do it, but He can do it, dat I know.”Ned did not forget this conversation with poor Tom, not that he entertained the slightest hope that he should fall in with his wife or son; indeed, should he do so, how should he possibly know them? He determined, however, to ask all the Africans he might meet with where they came from, and should it appear that they were natives of the part of the country Tom had described to him, to make more minute inquiries. He knew as well as Tom that God can bring about whatever He thinks fit; but he was too well instructed not to know that our Heavenly Father does not always act as men wish or think best—for that He sees what man in his blindness does not. No one, except Mary, perhaps, missed Ned more than did Tom Baraka. Poor Mary! it was her first great trial in life. She found more difficulty than she had ever done before in learning her lessons, and she about her daily avocations with a far less elastic step than was her wont. She was too young, however, to remain long sorrowful, and was as pleased as ever to accompany Aunt Sally on her rounds among her poor neighbours.The travellers reached Portsmouth, and repaired to the “Blue Posts,” the inn at which Mr Pack had been accustomed to put up in his younger days. Next morning he took the two boys on board the “Ione,” which lay alongside the hulk off the dockyard. Lieutenant Hanson, who had already joined, received them in a kind manner, which made Charley whisper to Ned that they were all right, as it was clear that their first lieutenant was not one of those stiff chaps who look as if they had swallowed pokers, and he hoped that their commander was of the same character.Two days passed rapidly away in visiting the numerous objects of interest to be seen at Portsmouth. Ned’s kit was ready, and his uncle finally took him on board the “Ione,” which had cast off from the hulk, and was getting ready to go out to Spithead. Ned was introduced to the commander, who shook his uncle and him by the hand in a friendly way.“I hope that the ship will be a happy one,” said Captain Curtis. “It will depend much on his messmates and him whether it is so, and they’ll find me ready to serve them if they act as I trust may.”The next day the “Ione” went out to Spithead, the one-legged lieutenant, by the commander’s invitation, being on board. With a beaming eye he watched Ned, who performed various duties in a way which showed that he knew well what he was about.“He’ll do, he’ll do,” he said to himself more than once. “Meadows, too, seems an active young fellow. Nothing could have turned out better.”At length the moment for parting came. Ned accompanied his uncle down the side, and again and again the kind old lieutenant wrung his hand before he stepped into the wherry which was to carry him to shore. Ned stood watching the boat, thinking of his uncle and his home, until he was recalled to himself by the boatswain’s whistle summoning the crew to weigh anchor and make sail. With a fair breeze and all canvas spread, the “Ione” stood out through the Needle Passage on her course down channel. As she came off that part of the coast where his boyhood had been spent, he turned a wistful gaze in that direction, knowing that although the lieutenant was not at home, his telescope would be pointed seaward, and that even then Mary might be looking at the graceful ship which floated like a swan over the calm water. The Lizard was the last point of land seen, and the “Ione” stood out into the broad Atlantic.“Well, Ned, we are at sea at last, you really have shown yourself more of a man than I expected,” said Charley Meadows.“What should have made you fancy I should have been otherwise?” asked Ned.“Why, you’ve been brought up so much at home that I was afraid you’d prove rather too soft for the life you’ll have to lead on board. However, I have no fear about that, whatever others may think. Some of the fellows may try to bully you because you are the youngest on board, but keep your temper, and do not let them see that you know what they are about; I’ll back you up, and they’ll soon cease annoying you.”Ned followed his friend’s advice, and managed without quarrelling or fighting to obtain the respect of even the least well-disposed of his messmates.Charley was at first inclined to exhibit a somewhat patronising manner towards Ned, who, however, wisely did not show that he perceived this, nor did he in the slightest degree resent it. He from the first had endeavoured to gain all the nautical knowledge he possibly could, and was never ashamed of asking for information from those able to afford it.“That’s the way to become a seaman,” observed Mr Dawes the boatswain, to whom he frequently went when he wanted any matter explained. “Come to me as often as you like, and I shall be glad to tell you what I know; and I ought to know a thing or two, as I’ve been at sea, man and boy, pretty near five-and-twenty years, though I’ve not got much book-learning.”Ned thanked him, promising to take advantage of his offer, and, as was natural, became a great favourite with the boatswain. Ned was well up in many of the details of seamanship, and having been accustomed to boats all his life, was as well able to manage one as anybody on board. He quickly learned to go aloft, and to lay out on the yards to reef or loose the sails, while he was as active and fearless as many a far older seaman. His knowledge of navigation too was considerable, his uncle having taken great pains to instruct him, he, on his part, being always anxious to learn. Charley, therefore, in a short time, finding that Ned was not only his equal in most respects, but his superior in several, dropped his patronising manner, and they became faster friends than ever.The first lieutenant, Mr Hanson, did not fail to remark Ned’s progress, and calling him up, expressed his approval. “Go on as you have begun, Garth, and you will become a good officer. The commander has his eye on you, and will always, you may depend upon it, prove your friend.”Although with most of his messmates Ned got on very well, two or three, it was very evident, disliked him on account of his zeal and good conduct, which reflected, they might have considered, on their behaviour.The senior mate in the berth, “Old Rhymer” as he was called, who was soured by disappointment at not obtaining his commission, as he thought he ought to have done long ago, took every opportunity of finding fault with him, and was continually sneering at what he said when at the mess table. If he attempted to reply, O’Connor, the eldest of the midshipmen, was sure to come down on him and join Rhymer.“You’ll be after getting a cobbing, Master Garth, if you don’t keep your tongue quiet in presence of your elders,” exclaimed the latter.“I have said nothing to offend any one,” said Ned.“We are the judges of that,” replied O’Connor, beginning to knot his handkerchief in an ominous fashion. “You and Meadows are becoming too conceited by half, because the first lieutenant and the commander have taken it into their heads that you are something above the common.”“I have no reason to suppose that from anything they have said to me,” answered Ned. “The first lieutenant merely advised me to go on doing my duty, and that is what I intend to do; I don’t see how that should offend you.”“We are the best judges of what is offensive and what is not, Master Jackanapes,” exclaimed Rhymer, “so take that for daring to reply,” and he threw a biscuit across the berth, which would have hit Ned on the eye had he not ducked in time to avoid it.“Thank you for your good intentions, Rhymer,” said Ned, picking up the biscuit and continuing to eat the duff on which he was engaged.O’Connor meantime went on knotting his handkerchief, and only waiting for a word from Rhymer to commence operations on Ned’s back. Ned took no notice, but as soon as he had finished dinner he sprang up and made for the door of the berth.“Stop that youngster!” exclaimed Rhymer; “he is not to set our authority at defiance. Come back I say, Garth.”No one, however, laid a hand on Ned, who, making his way round on the locker behind his companions’ backs, gained the door. O’Connor, eager to obey the old mate’s commands, made a spring over the table, and in so doing caught the table-cloth with his foot, and toppling over on his face, brought it after him with the plates and other articles to the deck outside the berth, where he lay struggling, amid shouts of laughter from his messmates.Ned reached the upper deck before O’Connor had regained his legs. The latter was not inclined to follow him, though he vowed he would be revenged on the first opportunity. Ned was soon joined by Charley Meadows.“You have made enemies of those two fellows, and they’ll pay you off some day,” observed Charley.“I am sorry for that, though I do not fear their enmity, and I will try and make friends with them as soon as possible,” answered Ned. He watched for an opportunity, and was careful not to say anything in the berth likely to offend his elders. Notwithstanding, they continued to treat him much in the same way, though O’Connor forbore the use of the cob, as he had promised, finding that public opinion was decidedly against him.Week after week went by, the “Ione” steadily continuing her course to the southward. A heavy gale came on, which, though it lasted but a few days, served to show that Ned was not only a fair-weather sailor, but could do his duty in foul weather as well as in fine. Then there were calms and light winds.The line was passed. Much to O’Connor’s disappointment, the commander would not allow the usual customs, having given notice that he should not receive “Daddy Neptune” and his Tritons on board.The ship put into Rio, in South America, which, though apparently out of her course, was not really so. Having remained a few days in that magnificent harbour, and obtained a supply of fresh provisions and water, she again sailed, and soon fell in with the south-easterly trade wind, which carried her rapidly without a tack across the Atlantic. Table Bay was soon reached, and the officers were anticipating a run on shore, when the commander received orders to sail immediately for the east coast, to assist in putting a stop to the trade in slaves, said to be carried on along it for the supply of the Persian and Arabian markets. Many of the mess grumbled at being sent off so soon again to sea, and declared that they would have remained on shore had they known they were to be engaged in such abominable work.“I have heard all about it,” exclaimed Rhymer. “We shall never have a moment’s quiet, but be chasing those Arab dhows night and day, and if we capture any, have to crowd up our decks with hundreds of dirty blackamoors, whom we shall be obliged to nurse and feed until we can set them on shore, with the chances of fever or small-pox and all sorts of complaints breaking out among them.”Very different were Ned’s feelings when he heard the news; it was the very station to which he had hoped the ship might be sent. His knowledge of the good qualities possessed by Tom Baraka made him sure that the blacks were not the despicable race some of his messmates were disposed to consider them. They, at all events, had immortal souls, and might with the same advantages become as civilised and as good a Christian as Tom was. There was a possibility, though a very remote one, that he might fall in with Tom’s wife and child, and he pictured to himself the satisfaction of being able to restore them to liberty. He did not, however, express his feelings, except to Charley, as he considered, justly, that it would be like throwing pearls before swine to say anything of the sort to Rhymer or O’Connor, who would only have laughed at him.The “Ione” had a quick passage round the south coast of Africa, and she now entered the Mozambique Channel. The chart showed that she had reached the twentieth degree of south latitude, and about the forty-first of east longitude. Away to the west, though far out of sight, were the mouths of the Zambesi river, whose waters have been explored from their source to the ocean by the energetic Livingstone, while to the right was the magnificent island of Madagascar, many of whose long benighted people have since accepted the Gospel. The ship glided on over the smooth sea, her sails spread to a gentle southerly breeze. The heat was great; it had been rapidly increasing. As the hot sun shone down from a cloudless sky on the deck, the pitch bubbled up as if a fire were beneath it, and O’Connor declared that he could cook a beef steak, if he had one, on the capstan head.“Hot, do you call it?” observed Rhymer, who had before been in those seas. “Wait until we get under the line; we may roast an ox there by tricing it up to the fore-yard, and even then should have to lower it into the sea every now and then to prevent it being done too quickly.”Every shady spot was eagerly sought for by officers and crew, though, as the air was pure, no one really suffered by the heat. Other smaller islands were passed, though not seen—among them Johanna and Comoro, inhabited by dark-skinned races. At last the island of Zanzibar, close in with the African coast, was sighted, and as the breeze blew off its undulating plains, Ned and Charley agreed that they could inhale the perfume of its spice groves and its many fragrant flowers. As the ship drew nearer the land, on the lower ground could be distinguished large plantations of sugar-cane, with forests of cocoa-nut trees, just beyond the line of shining sands separating them from the blue water, while here and there rose low rocky cliffs of varied tints of red and brown. On the uplands were seen rows of clove-trees ranged in exact order between the plantations, groups of palm or dark-leaved mangoes, with masses of wild jungle, where nature was still allowed to have its own way. Further on white flat-roofed buildings with numerous windows appeared in sight; then the harbour opened up, in which floated a crowd of vessels of all nations, some with red banners floating from their mast-heads, forming the sultan’s navy, others English ships of war, merchantmen, countless dhows with high sterns and strange rigs; then more houses and terraces with arches and colonnades came into view, with several consular flags flying above them.“That’s Zanzibar, the capital of the sultan of that ilk. A very beautiful place you may think it,” said Rhymer; “but wait until we get on shore, and then give me your opinion.”“Shorten sail and bring ship to an anchor!” shouted the first lieutenant.The boatswain’s whistle sounded, the hands flew aloft, the canvas was furled, and in a few minutes the “Ione” was brought up at no great distance from the town. The commander shortly afterwards went on shore, and several members of the midshipmen’s berth obtained leave to follow him under charge of Rhymer.“Remember, young gentlemen, keep together, and do nothing to offend the natives,” said Mr Hanson as they were about to shove off. “They are not like the inhabitants of European places, and are quick to resent what they may consider an insult. You cannot be too careful in your conduct towards them.”Attractive as the place appeared from the sea, the party had not gone far when they were inclined to pass a very different opinion on it. The houses looked dilapidated, the inhabitants, black and brown, squalid and dirty, though a few Arabs in picturesque costumes, armed to the teeth, were encountered strolling about with a swaggering air, while odours abominable in the extreme rose from all directions. The party made their way through the crooked, narrow lanes, with plastered houses on each side, in the lower floors of which were Banyans, wearing red turbans, seated in front of their goods, consisting either of coloured cottons or calicoes, or heaps of ivory tusks, or of piles of loose cotton, crockery, or cheap Birmingham ware. Further on they came to rows of miserable huts, the doors occupied by woolly-headed blacks, who, in spite of the filth and offensive smells arising from heaps of refuse, seemed as merry as crickets, laughing, chattering, and bargaining in loud tones.Most of the people they met on foot appeared to be bending their steps to one quarter; on pursuing the same road the naval party found themselves at the entrance of a large open space or square crowded with people. Round it were arranged groups of men, women, and children of various hues, jet black or darkest of browns predominating.“Who can all these people be?” asked Charley.“Slaves, to be sure; they are brought here to be sold,” answered Rhymer. “Let’s go on, it will be some fun to watch them.”Rhymer led the way round the square, examining the different groups of slaves. Although the greater number looked very squalid and wretched, others had evidently been taken care of. Among them were a party of Gallas, mostly women, habited in silk and gauze dresses, with their hair prettily ornamented to increase their personal attractions, which were far superior to those of the negroes. Close to the group stood a man who acted as auctioneer, ready to hand his goods over to the highest bidder. The purchasers were chiefly Arabs, who walked about surveying the hapless slaves, and ordering those to whom they took a fancy to be paraded out before them, after which they examined the mouths and limbs of any they thought of purchasing, striking their breasts and pinching their arms and legs to ascertain that they possessed sufficient muscle and wind for their work.Ned turned away from the scene with disgust. He longed to be able to liberate the poor slaves, and to place them where they could obtain religious instruction and the advantages of civilisation, for they were, he knew, being dragged from one state of barbarism to another, in many cases infinitely worse, where they would become utterly degraded and debased.“Is there no hope for these poor people?” he exclaimed, turning to Charley. “Cannot our commander interfere?”“He has not the authority to do so in the dominions of the sultan; we can only touch those whom we meet on the high seas, beyond certain limits. We shall soon have an opportunity, however, of setting some of them free, for the commander told Mr Hanson that we are only to remain here a couple of days, and then to commence our cruise to the northward.”“The sooner the better,” exclaimed Ned; “we shall all catch fever if we stay long in this place. Rhymer was right in what he said about it, fair as it looks outside.”Ned was not disappointed; the “Ione” was soon again at sea, and had reached the latitude beyond which his commander had authority to capture all dhows with slaves on board. A bright look-out was kept aloft, from the first break of day until darkness covered the face of the deep, for any dhows sailing northward, but day after day passed by and none were seen. The ship was then kept further off the land, the commander suspecting that the Arabs and slave traders had notice of his whereabouts. The following day three dhows were seen; chase was made; they were overtaken and boarded; one, however, was a fair trader, but about the two others there was considerable doubt. They each carried a large number of people, whom the Arab captains averred were either passengers or part of their crews. As no one contradicted them, they were allowed to proceed on their voyage.“This dhow chasing is dull work,” exclaimed Rhymer. “I’ll bet anything that we don’t make a single capture; and if we do, what is the good of it, except the modicum of prize money we might chance to pocket? The blacks won’t be a bit the better off, and the Arabs will be the losers.”“They deserve to be the losers,” exclaimed Charley, who, influenced by the remarks of Ned, had become as much interested as he was in the duty in which they were engaged. “What business have they to make slaves of their fellow-creatures?”“Business! Why, because they want slaves, and set about the best way of getting them,” answered Rhymer, with a laugh. The ship was now nearly under the line. The heat, as Rhymer had forewarned his messmates, was very great, though not enough to roast an ox; and when there was a breeze, it was at all events endurable in the shade. Had it been much greater it would not have impeded Commander Curtis in the performance of his duty. Ned bore it very well, although he confessed to Charley that he should like a roll in the snow. When the ship was becalmed the crew were allowed a plunge overboard, but they were ordered to keep close to the side for fear of sharks, and a sail was rigged out in the water for those who could not swim. Several more days passed without a single dhow being seen, and Rhymer declared that they would catch no slavers, for the best of reasons, that there were no slavers to be caught, or that if there were, they would take good care to keep out of their way.

Two days afterwards found the one-legged lieutenant and his young companions on their way to Portsmouth. Ned bore the parting manfully, though he did not the less acutely feel having to wish good-bye to Aunt Sally, Mary, and Tom Baraka.

“If you go to my country, Massa Ned, an’ if you see any ob my people, tell dem where Tom Baraka is,” said the black, as he wrung Ned’s hand. “Dare is one ting I long for—to find my wife and boy, and to tell dem dat I Christian, an’ want dem to be Christian also.”

“You have not told me your son’s name, so that even should I meet him, I should not know that he is your son,” said Ned.

“Him called Chando,” answered Tom. “Him know dat name when you call him.”

“And your wife—what is her name?” asked Ned. “Him—Masika,” said Tom after a few moments’ thought—it was so long since he had uttered his wife’s name. “O Massa Ned, you bring dem back, and God bless you.”

“Chando—Masika,” repeated Ned. “But I am afraid that there is very little chance of my finding your family, Tom, though I should be truly thankful to meet with them; I don’t know even to what part of the coast of Africa I am going. It is a large country, and though I may see thousands of the inhabitants, those you care for may not be among them.”

“Massa Ned, if God wish to bring dem to you, He can find de way,” said the black, in a tone of simple faith. “I no say He will do it, but He can do it, dat I know.”

Ned did not forget this conversation with poor Tom, not that he entertained the slightest hope that he should fall in with his wife or son; indeed, should he do so, how should he possibly know them? He determined, however, to ask all the Africans he might meet with where they came from, and should it appear that they were natives of the part of the country Tom had described to him, to make more minute inquiries. He knew as well as Tom that God can bring about whatever He thinks fit; but he was too well instructed not to know that our Heavenly Father does not always act as men wish or think best—for that He sees what man in his blindness does not. No one, except Mary, perhaps, missed Ned more than did Tom Baraka. Poor Mary! it was her first great trial in life. She found more difficulty than she had ever done before in learning her lessons, and she about her daily avocations with a far less elastic step than was her wont. She was too young, however, to remain long sorrowful, and was as pleased as ever to accompany Aunt Sally on her rounds among her poor neighbours.

The travellers reached Portsmouth, and repaired to the “Blue Posts,” the inn at which Mr Pack had been accustomed to put up in his younger days. Next morning he took the two boys on board the “Ione,” which lay alongside the hulk off the dockyard. Lieutenant Hanson, who had already joined, received them in a kind manner, which made Charley whisper to Ned that they were all right, as it was clear that their first lieutenant was not one of those stiff chaps who look as if they had swallowed pokers, and he hoped that their commander was of the same character.

Two days passed rapidly away in visiting the numerous objects of interest to be seen at Portsmouth. Ned’s kit was ready, and his uncle finally took him on board the “Ione,” which had cast off from the hulk, and was getting ready to go out to Spithead. Ned was introduced to the commander, who shook his uncle and him by the hand in a friendly way.

“I hope that the ship will be a happy one,” said Captain Curtis. “It will depend much on his messmates and him whether it is so, and they’ll find me ready to serve them if they act as I trust may.”

The next day the “Ione” went out to Spithead, the one-legged lieutenant, by the commander’s invitation, being on board. With a beaming eye he watched Ned, who performed various duties in a way which showed that he knew well what he was about.

“He’ll do, he’ll do,” he said to himself more than once. “Meadows, too, seems an active young fellow. Nothing could have turned out better.”

At length the moment for parting came. Ned accompanied his uncle down the side, and again and again the kind old lieutenant wrung his hand before he stepped into the wherry which was to carry him to shore. Ned stood watching the boat, thinking of his uncle and his home, until he was recalled to himself by the boatswain’s whistle summoning the crew to weigh anchor and make sail. With a fair breeze and all canvas spread, the “Ione” stood out through the Needle Passage on her course down channel. As she came off that part of the coast where his boyhood had been spent, he turned a wistful gaze in that direction, knowing that although the lieutenant was not at home, his telescope would be pointed seaward, and that even then Mary might be looking at the graceful ship which floated like a swan over the calm water. The Lizard was the last point of land seen, and the “Ione” stood out into the broad Atlantic.

“Well, Ned, we are at sea at last, you really have shown yourself more of a man than I expected,” said Charley Meadows.

“What should have made you fancy I should have been otherwise?” asked Ned.

“Why, you’ve been brought up so much at home that I was afraid you’d prove rather too soft for the life you’ll have to lead on board. However, I have no fear about that, whatever others may think. Some of the fellows may try to bully you because you are the youngest on board, but keep your temper, and do not let them see that you know what they are about; I’ll back you up, and they’ll soon cease annoying you.”

Ned followed his friend’s advice, and managed without quarrelling or fighting to obtain the respect of even the least well-disposed of his messmates.

Charley was at first inclined to exhibit a somewhat patronising manner towards Ned, who, however, wisely did not show that he perceived this, nor did he in the slightest degree resent it. He from the first had endeavoured to gain all the nautical knowledge he possibly could, and was never ashamed of asking for information from those able to afford it.

“That’s the way to become a seaman,” observed Mr Dawes the boatswain, to whom he frequently went when he wanted any matter explained. “Come to me as often as you like, and I shall be glad to tell you what I know; and I ought to know a thing or two, as I’ve been at sea, man and boy, pretty near five-and-twenty years, though I’ve not got much book-learning.”

Ned thanked him, promising to take advantage of his offer, and, as was natural, became a great favourite with the boatswain. Ned was well up in many of the details of seamanship, and having been accustomed to boats all his life, was as well able to manage one as anybody on board. He quickly learned to go aloft, and to lay out on the yards to reef or loose the sails, while he was as active and fearless as many a far older seaman. His knowledge of navigation too was considerable, his uncle having taken great pains to instruct him, he, on his part, being always anxious to learn. Charley, therefore, in a short time, finding that Ned was not only his equal in most respects, but his superior in several, dropped his patronising manner, and they became faster friends than ever.

The first lieutenant, Mr Hanson, did not fail to remark Ned’s progress, and calling him up, expressed his approval. “Go on as you have begun, Garth, and you will become a good officer. The commander has his eye on you, and will always, you may depend upon it, prove your friend.”

Although with most of his messmates Ned got on very well, two or three, it was very evident, disliked him on account of his zeal and good conduct, which reflected, they might have considered, on their behaviour.

The senior mate in the berth, “Old Rhymer” as he was called, who was soured by disappointment at not obtaining his commission, as he thought he ought to have done long ago, took every opportunity of finding fault with him, and was continually sneering at what he said when at the mess table. If he attempted to reply, O’Connor, the eldest of the midshipmen, was sure to come down on him and join Rhymer.

“You’ll be after getting a cobbing, Master Garth, if you don’t keep your tongue quiet in presence of your elders,” exclaimed the latter.

“I have said nothing to offend any one,” said Ned.

“We are the judges of that,” replied O’Connor, beginning to knot his handkerchief in an ominous fashion. “You and Meadows are becoming too conceited by half, because the first lieutenant and the commander have taken it into their heads that you are something above the common.”

“I have no reason to suppose that from anything they have said to me,” answered Ned. “The first lieutenant merely advised me to go on doing my duty, and that is what I intend to do; I don’t see how that should offend you.”

“We are the best judges of what is offensive and what is not, Master Jackanapes,” exclaimed Rhymer, “so take that for daring to reply,” and he threw a biscuit across the berth, which would have hit Ned on the eye had he not ducked in time to avoid it.

“Thank you for your good intentions, Rhymer,” said Ned, picking up the biscuit and continuing to eat the duff on which he was engaged.

O’Connor meantime went on knotting his handkerchief, and only waiting for a word from Rhymer to commence operations on Ned’s back. Ned took no notice, but as soon as he had finished dinner he sprang up and made for the door of the berth.

“Stop that youngster!” exclaimed Rhymer; “he is not to set our authority at defiance. Come back I say, Garth.”

No one, however, laid a hand on Ned, who, making his way round on the locker behind his companions’ backs, gained the door. O’Connor, eager to obey the old mate’s commands, made a spring over the table, and in so doing caught the table-cloth with his foot, and toppling over on his face, brought it after him with the plates and other articles to the deck outside the berth, where he lay struggling, amid shouts of laughter from his messmates.

Ned reached the upper deck before O’Connor had regained his legs. The latter was not inclined to follow him, though he vowed he would be revenged on the first opportunity. Ned was soon joined by Charley Meadows.

“You have made enemies of those two fellows, and they’ll pay you off some day,” observed Charley.

“I am sorry for that, though I do not fear their enmity, and I will try and make friends with them as soon as possible,” answered Ned. He watched for an opportunity, and was careful not to say anything in the berth likely to offend his elders. Notwithstanding, they continued to treat him much in the same way, though O’Connor forbore the use of the cob, as he had promised, finding that public opinion was decidedly against him.

Week after week went by, the “Ione” steadily continuing her course to the southward. A heavy gale came on, which, though it lasted but a few days, served to show that Ned was not only a fair-weather sailor, but could do his duty in foul weather as well as in fine. Then there were calms and light winds.

The line was passed. Much to O’Connor’s disappointment, the commander would not allow the usual customs, having given notice that he should not receive “Daddy Neptune” and his Tritons on board.

The ship put into Rio, in South America, which, though apparently out of her course, was not really so. Having remained a few days in that magnificent harbour, and obtained a supply of fresh provisions and water, she again sailed, and soon fell in with the south-easterly trade wind, which carried her rapidly without a tack across the Atlantic. Table Bay was soon reached, and the officers were anticipating a run on shore, when the commander received orders to sail immediately for the east coast, to assist in putting a stop to the trade in slaves, said to be carried on along it for the supply of the Persian and Arabian markets. Many of the mess grumbled at being sent off so soon again to sea, and declared that they would have remained on shore had they known they were to be engaged in such abominable work.

“I have heard all about it,” exclaimed Rhymer. “We shall never have a moment’s quiet, but be chasing those Arab dhows night and day, and if we capture any, have to crowd up our decks with hundreds of dirty blackamoors, whom we shall be obliged to nurse and feed until we can set them on shore, with the chances of fever or small-pox and all sorts of complaints breaking out among them.”

Very different were Ned’s feelings when he heard the news; it was the very station to which he had hoped the ship might be sent. His knowledge of the good qualities possessed by Tom Baraka made him sure that the blacks were not the despicable race some of his messmates were disposed to consider them. They, at all events, had immortal souls, and might with the same advantages become as civilised and as good a Christian as Tom was. There was a possibility, though a very remote one, that he might fall in with Tom’s wife and child, and he pictured to himself the satisfaction of being able to restore them to liberty. He did not, however, express his feelings, except to Charley, as he considered, justly, that it would be like throwing pearls before swine to say anything of the sort to Rhymer or O’Connor, who would only have laughed at him.

The “Ione” had a quick passage round the south coast of Africa, and she now entered the Mozambique Channel. The chart showed that she had reached the twentieth degree of south latitude, and about the forty-first of east longitude. Away to the west, though far out of sight, were the mouths of the Zambesi river, whose waters have been explored from their source to the ocean by the energetic Livingstone, while to the right was the magnificent island of Madagascar, many of whose long benighted people have since accepted the Gospel. The ship glided on over the smooth sea, her sails spread to a gentle southerly breeze. The heat was great; it had been rapidly increasing. As the hot sun shone down from a cloudless sky on the deck, the pitch bubbled up as if a fire were beneath it, and O’Connor declared that he could cook a beef steak, if he had one, on the capstan head.

“Hot, do you call it?” observed Rhymer, who had before been in those seas. “Wait until we get under the line; we may roast an ox there by tricing it up to the fore-yard, and even then should have to lower it into the sea every now and then to prevent it being done too quickly.”

Every shady spot was eagerly sought for by officers and crew, though, as the air was pure, no one really suffered by the heat. Other smaller islands were passed, though not seen—among them Johanna and Comoro, inhabited by dark-skinned races. At last the island of Zanzibar, close in with the African coast, was sighted, and as the breeze blew off its undulating plains, Ned and Charley agreed that they could inhale the perfume of its spice groves and its many fragrant flowers. As the ship drew nearer the land, on the lower ground could be distinguished large plantations of sugar-cane, with forests of cocoa-nut trees, just beyond the line of shining sands separating them from the blue water, while here and there rose low rocky cliffs of varied tints of red and brown. On the uplands were seen rows of clove-trees ranged in exact order between the plantations, groups of palm or dark-leaved mangoes, with masses of wild jungle, where nature was still allowed to have its own way. Further on white flat-roofed buildings with numerous windows appeared in sight; then the harbour opened up, in which floated a crowd of vessels of all nations, some with red banners floating from their mast-heads, forming the sultan’s navy, others English ships of war, merchantmen, countless dhows with high sterns and strange rigs; then more houses and terraces with arches and colonnades came into view, with several consular flags flying above them.

“That’s Zanzibar, the capital of the sultan of that ilk. A very beautiful place you may think it,” said Rhymer; “but wait until we get on shore, and then give me your opinion.”

“Shorten sail and bring ship to an anchor!” shouted the first lieutenant.

The boatswain’s whistle sounded, the hands flew aloft, the canvas was furled, and in a few minutes the “Ione” was brought up at no great distance from the town. The commander shortly afterwards went on shore, and several members of the midshipmen’s berth obtained leave to follow him under charge of Rhymer.

“Remember, young gentlemen, keep together, and do nothing to offend the natives,” said Mr Hanson as they were about to shove off. “They are not like the inhabitants of European places, and are quick to resent what they may consider an insult. You cannot be too careful in your conduct towards them.”

Attractive as the place appeared from the sea, the party had not gone far when they were inclined to pass a very different opinion on it. The houses looked dilapidated, the inhabitants, black and brown, squalid and dirty, though a few Arabs in picturesque costumes, armed to the teeth, were encountered strolling about with a swaggering air, while odours abominable in the extreme rose from all directions. The party made their way through the crooked, narrow lanes, with plastered houses on each side, in the lower floors of which were Banyans, wearing red turbans, seated in front of their goods, consisting either of coloured cottons or calicoes, or heaps of ivory tusks, or of piles of loose cotton, crockery, or cheap Birmingham ware. Further on they came to rows of miserable huts, the doors occupied by woolly-headed blacks, who, in spite of the filth and offensive smells arising from heaps of refuse, seemed as merry as crickets, laughing, chattering, and bargaining in loud tones.

Most of the people they met on foot appeared to be bending their steps to one quarter; on pursuing the same road the naval party found themselves at the entrance of a large open space or square crowded with people. Round it were arranged groups of men, women, and children of various hues, jet black or darkest of browns predominating.

“Who can all these people be?” asked Charley.

“Slaves, to be sure; they are brought here to be sold,” answered Rhymer. “Let’s go on, it will be some fun to watch them.”

Rhymer led the way round the square, examining the different groups of slaves. Although the greater number looked very squalid and wretched, others had evidently been taken care of. Among them were a party of Gallas, mostly women, habited in silk and gauze dresses, with their hair prettily ornamented to increase their personal attractions, which were far superior to those of the negroes. Close to the group stood a man who acted as auctioneer, ready to hand his goods over to the highest bidder. The purchasers were chiefly Arabs, who walked about surveying the hapless slaves, and ordering those to whom they took a fancy to be paraded out before them, after which they examined the mouths and limbs of any they thought of purchasing, striking their breasts and pinching their arms and legs to ascertain that they possessed sufficient muscle and wind for their work.

Ned turned away from the scene with disgust. He longed to be able to liberate the poor slaves, and to place them where they could obtain religious instruction and the advantages of civilisation, for they were, he knew, being dragged from one state of barbarism to another, in many cases infinitely worse, where they would become utterly degraded and debased.

“Is there no hope for these poor people?” he exclaimed, turning to Charley. “Cannot our commander interfere?”

“He has not the authority to do so in the dominions of the sultan; we can only touch those whom we meet on the high seas, beyond certain limits. We shall soon have an opportunity, however, of setting some of them free, for the commander told Mr Hanson that we are only to remain here a couple of days, and then to commence our cruise to the northward.”

“The sooner the better,” exclaimed Ned; “we shall all catch fever if we stay long in this place. Rhymer was right in what he said about it, fair as it looks outside.”

Ned was not disappointed; the “Ione” was soon again at sea, and had reached the latitude beyond which his commander had authority to capture all dhows with slaves on board. A bright look-out was kept aloft, from the first break of day until darkness covered the face of the deep, for any dhows sailing northward, but day after day passed by and none were seen. The ship was then kept further off the land, the commander suspecting that the Arabs and slave traders had notice of his whereabouts. The following day three dhows were seen; chase was made; they were overtaken and boarded; one, however, was a fair trader, but about the two others there was considerable doubt. They each carried a large number of people, whom the Arab captains averred were either passengers or part of their crews. As no one contradicted them, they were allowed to proceed on their voyage.

“This dhow chasing is dull work,” exclaimed Rhymer. “I’ll bet anything that we don’t make a single capture; and if we do, what is the good of it, except the modicum of prize money we might chance to pocket? The blacks won’t be a bit the better off, and the Arabs will be the losers.”

“They deserve to be the losers,” exclaimed Charley, who, influenced by the remarks of Ned, had become as much interested as he was in the duty in which they were engaged. “What business have they to make slaves of their fellow-creatures?”

“Business! Why, because they want slaves, and set about the best way of getting them,” answered Rhymer, with a laugh. The ship was now nearly under the line. The heat, as Rhymer had forewarned his messmates, was very great, though not enough to roast an ox; and when there was a breeze, it was at all events endurable in the shade. Had it been much greater it would not have impeded Commander Curtis in the performance of his duty. Ned bore it very well, although he confessed to Charley that he should like a roll in the snow. When the ship was becalmed the crew were allowed a plunge overboard, but they were ordered to keep close to the side for fear of sharks, and a sail was rigged out in the water for those who could not swim. Several more days passed without a single dhow being seen, and Rhymer declared that they would catch no slavers, for the best of reasons, that there were no slavers to be caught, or that if there were, they would take good care to keep out of their way.

Chapter Six.It was Ned’s morning watch. Scarcely had the first streaks of crimson and gold appeared in the eastern sky, heralding the coming day, than the look-out, who had just reached the masthead, shouted—“Three sail on the port bow,” and presently afterwards he announced two more in the same direction. The wind was southerly and light, the ship’s head was to the northward. The commander, according to his orders, was immediately called. All hands were roused up to make sail, and soon every stitch of canvas the ship could carry being packed on her, the foam which bubbled up under her bows showed that she was making good way in the direction in which the strangers had been seen. As soon as Ned was able, he hurried aloft with his spy-glass, eager to have a look at them. He counted not only five, but six, all of them dhows. As yet they were probably not aware of the presence of a man-of-war, for their hulls were still below the horizon. He hoped, therefore, that the “Ione” would gain on them before they should hoist their larger sails. He knew that it was the custom of the Arabs to carry only small sails at night. The usual preparations were made on board the corvette, the boats were cleared ready for lowering, the bow-chasers loaded and run out, and buckets of water were thrown over the sails to make them hold the wind.“We are gaining on them!” exclaimed Ned to Charley, as, after a third trip aloft, he came again on deck.“So we may be, but we must remember that after all they may be only honest traders, and not have a slave on board,” observed Charley. “We shall judge better if they make more sail when they discover us. If they are honest traders they will keep jogging on as before, if not, depend upon it they will try to escape.”“They may try, but they’ll find that the ‘Ione’ has a fast pair of heels, and we shall have the fun of overhauling them at all events,” said Ned.At length the Arabs must have discovered the man-of-war. First the nearest hoisted her big sail, and also set one on her after-mast. Then another and another dhow followed her example, and then the whole squadron, like white-winged birds, went skimming along over the blue sea.“What do you think now, Charley, of the strangers?” asked Ned.“No doubt that they wish to keep ahead of us, but whether or not we shall get up with them is another question, though, if the wind holds as it now does, we may do it.”The commander and gun-room officers were fully as eager as Ned to overtake the dhows. They had, they thought, at length got some veritable slavers in sight, and it would be provoking to lose them. It was, however, curious that they should all keep together; probably, however, none of them wished to steer a course by which they would run a greater chance of falling into the power of their pursuer. Seldom had breakfast been disposed of more quickly by officers and crew than that morning. The dhows could now be seen clearly from the deck, proof positive that the corvette was sailing much faster than they were. Once headed, most of them might be captured, for the dhow can sail but badly on a wind, though no vessel is faster before it.The lofty canvas of the corvette gave her an advantage over the dhows, whose sails occasionally hung down from their yards, almost emptied of wind.“We shall soon get them within range of our long gun,” said the commander, as he stood eagerly watching the vessels ahead. “Stand by, Mr Hanson, to lower the boats; we shall be able to do so with this breeze without heaving to.”“Is the gun all ready forward?” he asked a few minutes later.“Aye, aye, sir,” was the answer. His practised eye assured him that the stern most dhow was within range of the long gun.“We’ll make that fellow lower his canvas, and then see what cargo he carries,” said the commander. “Send a shot across his forefoot, and if that doesn’t stop him we’ll try to knock away that big yard of his. All ready there forward?”“Aye, aye, sir!”“Fire!”The missile flew from the mouth of the gun, and was seen to strike the surface so close to the dhow as to send the spray over her low bows. Still she held on her course. The gun was run in and reloaded.“Give her another shot!” cried the commander; “and if they don’t bring to, the Arabs must take the consequences.”The second lieutenant, who had been carefully taking the range, obeyed the order. The shot was seen to touch the water twice before it disappeared, but whether it struck the dhow seemed doubtful. Again the gun was got ready, but this time was aimed at the next vessel ahead, which almost immediately lowered her sails, the one astern following her example.“Let Mr Rhymer, with a midshipman, shove off and take possession of those two vessels, while we stand after the others. We must try and bag the whole of them, for I suspect they all have slaves on board,” observed the commander.“Garth, do you accompany Rhymer,” said Mr Hanson. “Take care that the Arabs don’t play you any trick.”The ship was moving so steadily over the smooth water that there was no necessity to stop her way, though even then it required care in lowering the boat. The crew with the two young officers were soon in her, the oars were got out, and away she pulled after the sternmost dhow, while the ship stood on in chase of the remainder of the fleet. The crew of the boat gave way, eager to secure their prize. Scarcely, however, had they got half-way to the nearest, than the breeze freshened up again, and the corvette’s speed was so increased, that it would have now been no easy task to lower a boat. They were soon up to the dhow, on board of which there appeared to be a crew of from fifteen to twenty Arabs, who gazed with folded arms and scowling countenances on their approaching captors. Rhymer and Ned sprang on board. No resistance was offered. The Arab captain shrugged his shoulders, said something, which probably meant, “It is the fortune of war,” and appeared perfectly resigned to his fate. A peep down the main hatchway showed at once that she was a slaver, as the bamboo deck was crowded with blacks, who commenced shrieking fearfully as they saw Ned’s white face, having been told by the Arabs that the object of the English was to cook and eat them.“Stop those fellows from making that horrible uproar,” cried Rhymer in an angry tone. “I cannot make out what these Arabs say with this abominable noise.”It is very doubtful if he would have understood his prisoners even had there been perfect silence. In order not to be seen by the blacks Ned walked aft.Rhymer made signs to the Arabs to give up their arms, which he handed into the boat as the best means of preventing any attempt they might make to recapture their vessel. He then ordered them to go forward to rehoist the sail, while he sent one of his men to the helm.While they were engaged in these arrangements, Ned cast his eye on the other dhow, of which Rhymer had been ordered to take charge.“Look out there, Rhymer!” he exclaimed; “that fellow is getting up his long yard again, and will try to give us the slip.”“We’ll soon stop him from doing that,” answered Rhymer. “You remain on board this craft with a couple of hands and I’ll go after him. Cox and Stone, you stay with Mr Garth; into the boat the rest of you.” The crew in another instant were in their seats, and shoving off, pulled away towards the other dhow. There was no time to lose, for already the yard with its white canvas was half-way up the mast. The breeze, too, was freshening, and as Ned watched her it seemed to him that she had a good chance of escaping. The boat’s crew were pulling as hard as they could lay their backs to the oars. He saw Rhymer standing up with a musket in his hand, and shouting to the Arabs, threatening to fire should they continue the attempt to escape. They were, however, apparently not to be deterred from so doing. Still the sail continued to ascend and the dhow was gathering way. Should the sail once be got up, the boat would have little chance of catching her. Rhymer, however, was not likely to give up the pursuit. Finding that his threats were not attended to, he fired one of the muskets, but whether any person was hit Ned could not discover. Again Rhymer fired, and then reloaded both muskets. Ned was so engaged in watching the boat, that he scarcely took notice of the proceedings of the Arabs on board his own dhow. He observed, however, that one of them, a young man with a better-looking countenance than most of his companions, had remained aft, while the rest were attempting to hoist the sail, though from some cause or other the halyards appeared to have got foul.“Go forward, Cox, and see what those fellows are about,” he said; “I’ll take the helm.”The seaman obeyed, while Stone, beckoning to the young Arab to come to his assistance, stood by to haul in the main sheet. The only thing in the shape of a boat was a small canoe which lay in the after part of the vessel. Aided by Cox, the sail was soon hoisted, but scarcely had the dhow heeled over to the breeze, than cries arose from the Arab crew, who made frantic gesticulations, indicating that the vessel was sinking. Ned at once suspected the cause; their second shot must have struck the bows of the dhow between wind and water, and had probably started a plank, so as to allow the sea, like a mill stream, to rush into her. There was little hope of stopping it. Ned put up the helm. “Lower the sail!” he shouted as he had never shouted before; the seamen endeavoured to obey the order, but the halyards had again become jammed, and to his dismay he saw that the bows of the dhow were rapidly sinking. As the water rushed into the hold the poor blacks uttered the most piercing shrieks, while the panic-stricken Arabs in a body frantically sprang towards the after part of the vessel; but as they came along, the light deck gave way beneath their weight, and the whole of them were precipitated on to the heads of the hapless negroes below.“We must save ourselves, sir,” cried Stone, lifting the canoe. “It is our only chance, or we shall be drowned with the rest.”“Where is Cox?” exclaimed Ned.He had fallen in among the struggling Arabs and blacks. Ned caught sight of him for a moment, and was springing forward to help him out from their midst, when the stern of the dhow lifted. Stone launched the canoe and leaped into her, shouting to his young officer to join him, while he paddled with a piece of board clear of the sinking vessel. Ned seeing that Cox had managed to reach the side, sprang overboard, his example being followed by the latter, as well as by the young Arab who had remained aft. Before any of the rest of the crew had extricated themselves, the dhow, plunging her head into the sea, rapidly glided downwards, and in an instant the despairing cries of the perishing wretches which had filled the air were silenced. Stone, influenced by the natural desire of saving his own life, paddled away with might and main to escape being drawn down in the vortex. Ned had also struck out bravely, though he had to exert all his swimming powers to escape. For an instant he cast a glance back; the dhow had disappeared with all those on board; Cox was nowhere to be seen; he caught sight, however, of the young Arab, who, having clutched hold of a piece of bamboo, had come to the surface, but was evidently no swimmer.“I must try and save that poor fellow,” he thought. “I can manage to keep him afloat until the canoe gets up to us.” Ned carried out his intention. On reaching the young Arab he made a sign to him to turn on his back, placing the piece of bamboo under him. Just then he heard a faint shout—it came from Cox, who had returned to the surface, though, like the Arab, unable to swim.“Save me, save me!” shouted Cox, who was clinging to a log of wood.Stone heard him, and Ned saw the head of the canoe turned towards where the seaman was struggling.“Pick him up first!” he shouted to Stone. “I can keep this man afloat until you come to us.”With only a board to impel the canoe, it took Stone a considerable time to reach his messmate, whom it was then no easy matter to get into the canoe without upsetting her. While Stone was thus employed, Ned did his uttermost to calm the fears of the young Arab, who, besides being unable to swim, probably recollected that sharks abounded in those seas, and dreaded lest he and the Englishman might be attacked by one. Ned thought only of one thing, that he had to keep himself and a fellow-creature afloat until the canoe should come up to them. As to how they should get on board, he did not allow himself to think just then. She was scarcely large enough to hold four people, though she might possibly support the whole party until Rhymer could send the boat to pick them up. Ned, withdrawing his eyes from poor Cox, who was clinging to his log, and shouting to his messmate to make haste, looked towards the dhow of which Rhymer was in chase. She had hoisted her sail, and should the breeze continue, would very probably get away, unless Rhymer, by killing or wounding some of her crew, could make the others give in. He, it was pretty clear, was so eagerly engaged in pursuing the chase, that he had not seen the dhow go down. The boat’s crew, however, must have perceived what had happened; and Ned thought it strange that he did not at once return to try and save him and his two men.“Perhaps he fancies that we are all lost, and that there would be no use in coming to look after us. If he catches the dhow, however, I hope that he will send back the boat, on the chance of any of us having escaped,” thought Ned. He could see the sails of the corvette, and an occasional shot told him that she was still firing at the slavers. She was already almost hull down, and the catastrophe could not have been discovered from her deck, while the eyes of the look-outs aloft were probably fixed on the dhows still trying to escape. Still Ned did not give up hopes of being rescued, but continued energetically treading water, and speaking in as cheerful a tone as he could command to keep up the spirits of the young Arab.“Me understand, t’ankee, t’ankee,” said the latter at last.Still Stone could make but slow progress, and Ned began to fear that his own strength might become exhausted before the canoe could reach him. He was truly thankful when at last he saw that Stone had got hold of Cox, and was dragging him on board. Just at that moment, however, to his horror, he caught sight of a dark fin above the surface; that it was that of a shark he knew too well. He must do his utmost to keep the monster at a distance. He shouted, and splashed the water with his disengaged hand.“Be quick, be quick, Stone!” he cried. “Do you see that brute?”“Aye, aye, sir, I see him; but he’ll not come nigh you while you’re splashing about, and the canoe is too big a morsel for him to attack. Now, Ben,” he cried, turning to his messmate, “haul yourself on board while I keep at the other end of the canoe, it is the safest plan.”But poor Cox was too much exhausted by his violent struggles to do as he was advised, and at last Stone had to help him, at the risk of upsetting the canoe or bringing her bow under the water. By lying flat along he succeeded, however, at last in hauling his shipmate’s shoulders over the bows. He then returned to the stern, when Ben, by great exertion, managed to drag himself in. This done, Stone endeavoured as fast as he could to get up to Ned. As Stone paddled, he sung out, “I’m afraid it’s of no use trying to keep that Arab fellow above water; you must let him go, for the canoe won’t hold us all.”“Not while I have life and strength to help him,” answered Ned. “Do not be afraid,” he added, turning to the Arab, who understood what Stone had said. “The canoe may support us even though she is brought down to the gunwale; and if she can’t, I’ll keep outside and hold on until Mr Rhymer’s boat comes back, or the corvette sends to look for us.”“But the shark!” cried Stone; “the brute may be grabbing you if you remain quiet even for a minute.”“I don’t intend to remain quiet,” said Ned. “Here, lift the Arab in. I’ll help you—it can be done.” There certainly was a great risk of the canoe upsetting in doing as Ned proposed. Cox, however, leaned over on the opposite side, and they at length succeeded in getting the Arab on board. The gunwale of the canoe was scarcely a couple of inches above the water; a slight ripple would have filled her, but the sea was so smooth that there was no fear of that happening. Ned, directing the men how to place themselves, was at last drawn safely on board. His additional weight brought the canoe almost flush with the water. They were, however, certainly better off in her than in the water; but at any moment, with the slightest increase of wind, she might fill and sink beneath them, and they would again be left to struggle for their lives. Ned was afraid of moving, and urged his companions to remain perfectly still.“Look out, Stone; what is the dhow about? Mr Rhymer will surely soon be sending the boat to our relief—he must have seen our craft go down.”“Not so sure of that; he’ll not trouble himself about us,” muttered Stone. “If you were there, you’d do it; all officers are not alike.”Ned was afraid that the seaman might be right, but he did not express an opinion on the subject. Their position was, indeed, a trying one. The sun struck down with intense heat on their heads, while they had not a particle of food to satisfy their hunger, nor a drop of fresh water to quench their burning thirst. The breeze had sprung up, and every now and then a ripple broke over the gunwale, even though Stone kept the canoe before the wind.“If we had a couple of paddles, we might gain on the corvette; but I’m afraid of using this bit of board, for fear of taking the water in on one side or the other,” said Stone.“Do not attempt it,” answered Ned; “we should not overtake her unless it should fall calm again, and the commander will surely come and look for us.”“Provided Mr Rhymer doesn’t tell him we are all lost,” remarked Stone, who had evidently little confidence in the old mate.Hour after hour went by, the boat was nowhere to be seen, and the dhows’ sails had sunk beneath the horizon. Night was approaching, and as far as the occupants of the canoe could judge, no help was at hand. Ned endeavoured, as well as he could, to keep up the spirits of his companions.The wind remained light, and the sea was as smooth as a mill-pond. The approaching darkness so far brought relief that they were no longer exposed to the burning rays of the sun, while the cooler air of night greatly relieved them. As the day had passed by, so it appeared probable would the night, without bringing them succour. Ben and the Arab slept, but Ned was too anxious to close his eyes, and Stone insisted on keeping a look-out, on the chance of any vessel passing which might take them on board. Even an Arab dhow would be welcome, for the Arabs would doubtless be willing to receive them on board for the sake of obtaining a reward for preserving their lives. At last the Arab, whose head was resting on Ned’s side, awoke. He appeared to be in a very weak state, and told Ned, in his broken English, that he thought he was dying.“Try and keep alive until to-morrow morning,” said Ned; “by that time our ship will be looking for us, and as they know where we were left, we are sure to be seen.”Ned had been calculating that it was about two hours to dawn, when, in spite of his efforts to keep awake, he found his head dropping back on Ben’s legs, and he was soon fast asleep. How long he had been lost in forgetfulness he could not tell, when he heard Stone give a loud hail.“What is that?” asked Ned, lifting up his head. “I heard voices and a splash of oars, sir,” he answered; “they were a long way off, and, I fancied, passed to the southward.”“Silence, then,” said Ned; “we will listen for their reply.”No answering hail came, and he feared that Stone must have been mistaken; again he listened. “Yes, those were human voices and the dip of oars in the water. We’ll shout together. Rouse yourself, Cox,” he said.Ben sat up, and, Stone leading, they shouted together at the top of their voices, the young Arab joining them. Again they were silent, but no answer came. “If that is a boat, they surely must have heard us,” observed Ned.“They may be talking themselves, sir, or the noise of their oars prevented them,” remarked Stone.“We’ll shout again, then,” said Ned.Again they shouted, this time louder than before. They waited a few seconds, almost afraid to breathe, and then there came across the water a British cheer, sounding faintly in the distance.“Hurrah! hurrah! All right, sir!” cried Stone. They shouted several times after this to guide the boat towards them. At length they could see her emerging from the gloom; but no one on board her had apparently seen the canoe, for, from the speed the boat was going and the course she was steering, she was evidently about to pass them.“Boat ahoy!” shouted Stone. “Here we are, but take care not to run us down.”The boat’s course was altered; they soon heard a voice, it was that of Charley Meadows, crying out, “There is something floating ahead of us, a raft or a sunken boat.”“Meadows ahoy!” hailed Ned. “Come carefully alongside.” The oars were thrown in, and the boat glided up to the canoe.“Why, Ned, Ned! I am so thankful that I have found you,” cried Charley, as he grasped the hand of his messmate after he had been helped on board.“There is a poor Arab, take care of him, for he is pretty far gone already,” said Ned.“Water, water,” murmured the Arab faintly.There was fortunately a breaker in the boat, and before many words were exchanged some of the refreshing liquid was served out to Ned and his companions. Except a few biscuits there was nothing to eat, but even these soaked in water served to refresh the well-nigh famished party.Charley then explained that the corvette, having captured three of the dhows, all with slaves on board, had hove to for the purpose of transferring their cargoes to her deck; and that while so occupied, Rhymer had arrived with a fourth, several of the Arab crew having been wounded in attempting to get away. “The commander seeing you were not on board, inquired what had become of you, when Rhymer, with very little concern, replied that he feared you all had gone to the bottom with the dhow, as his boat’s crew asserted that they had seen her founder. The commander was very indignant at his not having gone back at once to try and pick you up, should you by any means have escaped. He immediately ordered off three boats—the second lieutenant going in one, Rhymer in another, while he gave me charge of the third. What has become of the other two boats I do not know; perhaps they thought that they had come far enough and have gone back, as I confess I was on the point of doing when I heard your hail. We shall soon, I hope, fall in with the ship, for she is sure to beat back over the ground until she has picked us up.”“I shall be thankful to get on board for the sake of this poor Arab, who requires the doctor’s care,” said Ned.“Why, isn’t he one of the slaver’s crew?” exclaimed Charley. “An arrant rogue, I dare say.”“I don’t know about that, but I saved his life,” answered Ned, “and I feel an interest in him; he seems grateful too, as far as I can judge.”He then asked the Arab, who was sitting near him, whether he would have some more water, and handed him the cup, which was full.“T’ankee, t’ankee!” answered the Arab; “much t’ankee!” Ned then gave him some more sopped biscuit.“What’s his name?” inquired Charley. “Ask him, as he seems to speak English.”“Sayd,” answered the Arab immediately, showing that he understood what was said.Charley was now steering the boat to the northward. In a short time day broke, and as the sun rose, his rays fell on the white canvas of the corvette, which was standing close-hauled to the south-west, her black hull just seen above the horizon.“Hurrah!” cried Charley, “there’s the old ‘barky’; I hope we shall soon be on board.”“If she stands on that course she’ll pass us,” said Ned.“No fear of that,” answered Charley; “she’ll soon be about, and we shall be on board and all to rights.”He was not mistaken; the corvette immediately tacked, her canvas, which had hitherto seemed of snowy whiteness, being thrown into dark shadow. She now stood towards the south-east, on a course which would bring her so near that the boat would soon be seen from her deck. Before long she again came to the wind.“She is going about again!” exclaimed Ned.“No, no, she’s heaving to to pick up one of the boats,” answered Charley.He was again right; in a few minutes the sails were once more filled, and she stood on. The wind being light, the midshipmen had to wait for some time before they were certain that the boat was seen. The corvette again appeared as if about to pass them, but soon put about, and in less than a quarter of an hour she hove to, to enable Charley to steer alongside.“Hurrah!” he shouted as he approached, “we have them all safe.”A cheer rose from the throats of the crew as they received this announcement. Ned with his companions were assisted up the side. As he passed along the gangway he observed the unusual appearance which the deck presented, covered as it was by an almost countless number of black figures, men, women, and children, most of them squatting down in the attitudes they had been compelled to preserve on board the slave vessels. He had, however, to make his way aft to the commander, who put out his hand and cordially congratulated him on his escape.Ned having reported what had happened to himself, added, “There’s a poor Arab with me, sir, who requires to be looked after by the doctor. He seems grateful to me for having kept him afloat until the canoe picked us up.”“In other words you saved his life, Garth, at the peril of your own, as far as I can understand. The surgeon will attend to him; and I hope the risk he has run of losing his life will induce him to give up slave-trading for the future. Now, my lad, you must turn into your hammock, you look as if you required rest.”Ned confessed that such was the case, but hinted that he and Sayd would first of all be glad of some food. This was soon brought him, and scarcely a minute had passed after he had tumbled into his hammock before he was fast asleep.

It was Ned’s morning watch. Scarcely had the first streaks of crimson and gold appeared in the eastern sky, heralding the coming day, than the look-out, who had just reached the masthead, shouted—

“Three sail on the port bow,” and presently afterwards he announced two more in the same direction. The wind was southerly and light, the ship’s head was to the northward. The commander, according to his orders, was immediately called. All hands were roused up to make sail, and soon every stitch of canvas the ship could carry being packed on her, the foam which bubbled up under her bows showed that she was making good way in the direction in which the strangers had been seen. As soon as Ned was able, he hurried aloft with his spy-glass, eager to have a look at them. He counted not only five, but six, all of them dhows. As yet they were probably not aware of the presence of a man-of-war, for their hulls were still below the horizon. He hoped, therefore, that the “Ione” would gain on them before they should hoist their larger sails. He knew that it was the custom of the Arabs to carry only small sails at night. The usual preparations were made on board the corvette, the boats were cleared ready for lowering, the bow-chasers loaded and run out, and buckets of water were thrown over the sails to make them hold the wind.

“We are gaining on them!” exclaimed Ned to Charley, as, after a third trip aloft, he came again on deck.

“So we may be, but we must remember that after all they may be only honest traders, and not have a slave on board,” observed Charley. “We shall judge better if they make more sail when they discover us. If they are honest traders they will keep jogging on as before, if not, depend upon it they will try to escape.”

“They may try, but they’ll find that the ‘Ione’ has a fast pair of heels, and we shall have the fun of overhauling them at all events,” said Ned.

At length the Arabs must have discovered the man-of-war. First the nearest hoisted her big sail, and also set one on her after-mast. Then another and another dhow followed her example, and then the whole squadron, like white-winged birds, went skimming along over the blue sea.

“What do you think now, Charley, of the strangers?” asked Ned.

“No doubt that they wish to keep ahead of us, but whether or not we shall get up with them is another question, though, if the wind holds as it now does, we may do it.”

The commander and gun-room officers were fully as eager as Ned to overtake the dhows. They had, they thought, at length got some veritable slavers in sight, and it would be provoking to lose them. It was, however, curious that they should all keep together; probably, however, none of them wished to steer a course by which they would run a greater chance of falling into the power of their pursuer. Seldom had breakfast been disposed of more quickly by officers and crew than that morning. The dhows could now be seen clearly from the deck, proof positive that the corvette was sailing much faster than they were. Once headed, most of them might be captured, for the dhow can sail but badly on a wind, though no vessel is faster before it.

The lofty canvas of the corvette gave her an advantage over the dhows, whose sails occasionally hung down from their yards, almost emptied of wind.

“We shall soon get them within range of our long gun,” said the commander, as he stood eagerly watching the vessels ahead. “Stand by, Mr Hanson, to lower the boats; we shall be able to do so with this breeze without heaving to.”

“Is the gun all ready forward?” he asked a few minutes later.

“Aye, aye, sir,” was the answer. His practised eye assured him that the stern most dhow was within range of the long gun.

“We’ll make that fellow lower his canvas, and then see what cargo he carries,” said the commander. “Send a shot across his forefoot, and if that doesn’t stop him we’ll try to knock away that big yard of his. All ready there forward?”

“Aye, aye, sir!”

“Fire!”

The missile flew from the mouth of the gun, and was seen to strike the surface so close to the dhow as to send the spray over her low bows. Still she held on her course. The gun was run in and reloaded.

“Give her another shot!” cried the commander; “and if they don’t bring to, the Arabs must take the consequences.”

The second lieutenant, who had been carefully taking the range, obeyed the order. The shot was seen to touch the water twice before it disappeared, but whether it struck the dhow seemed doubtful. Again the gun was got ready, but this time was aimed at the next vessel ahead, which almost immediately lowered her sails, the one astern following her example.

“Let Mr Rhymer, with a midshipman, shove off and take possession of those two vessels, while we stand after the others. We must try and bag the whole of them, for I suspect they all have slaves on board,” observed the commander.

“Garth, do you accompany Rhymer,” said Mr Hanson. “Take care that the Arabs don’t play you any trick.”

The ship was moving so steadily over the smooth water that there was no necessity to stop her way, though even then it required care in lowering the boat. The crew with the two young officers were soon in her, the oars were got out, and away she pulled after the sternmost dhow, while the ship stood on in chase of the remainder of the fleet. The crew of the boat gave way, eager to secure their prize. Scarcely, however, had they got half-way to the nearest, than the breeze freshened up again, and the corvette’s speed was so increased, that it would have now been no easy task to lower a boat. They were soon up to the dhow, on board of which there appeared to be a crew of from fifteen to twenty Arabs, who gazed with folded arms and scowling countenances on their approaching captors. Rhymer and Ned sprang on board. No resistance was offered. The Arab captain shrugged his shoulders, said something, which probably meant, “It is the fortune of war,” and appeared perfectly resigned to his fate. A peep down the main hatchway showed at once that she was a slaver, as the bamboo deck was crowded with blacks, who commenced shrieking fearfully as they saw Ned’s white face, having been told by the Arabs that the object of the English was to cook and eat them.

“Stop those fellows from making that horrible uproar,” cried Rhymer in an angry tone. “I cannot make out what these Arabs say with this abominable noise.”

It is very doubtful if he would have understood his prisoners even had there been perfect silence. In order not to be seen by the blacks Ned walked aft.

Rhymer made signs to the Arabs to give up their arms, which he handed into the boat as the best means of preventing any attempt they might make to recapture their vessel. He then ordered them to go forward to rehoist the sail, while he sent one of his men to the helm.

While they were engaged in these arrangements, Ned cast his eye on the other dhow, of which Rhymer had been ordered to take charge.

“Look out there, Rhymer!” he exclaimed; “that fellow is getting up his long yard again, and will try to give us the slip.”

“We’ll soon stop him from doing that,” answered Rhymer. “You remain on board this craft with a couple of hands and I’ll go after him. Cox and Stone, you stay with Mr Garth; into the boat the rest of you.” The crew in another instant were in their seats, and shoving off, pulled away towards the other dhow. There was no time to lose, for already the yard with its white canvas was half-way up the mast. The breeze, too, was freshening, and as Ned watched her it seemed to him that she had a good chance of escaping. The boat’s crew were pulling as hard as they could lay their backs to the oars. He saw Rhymer standing up with a musket in his hand, and shouting to the Arabs, threatening to fire should they continue the attempt to escape. They were, however, apparently not to be deterred from so doing. Still the sail continued to ascend and the dhow was gathering way. Should the sail once be got up, the boat would have little chance of catching her. Rhymer, however, was not likely to give up the pursuit. Finding that his threats were not attended to, he fired one of the muskets, but whether any person was hit Ned could not discover. Again Rhymer fired, and then reloaded both muskets. Ned was so engaged in watching the boat, that he scarcely took notice of the proceedings of the Arabs on board his own dhow. He observed, however, that one of them, a young man with a better-looking countenance than most of his companions, had remained aft, while the rest were attempting to hoist the sail, though from some cause or other the halyards appeared to have got foul.

“Go forward, Cox, and see what those fellows are about,” he said; “I’ll take the helm.”

The seaman obeyed, while Stone, beckoning to the young Arab to come to his assistance, stood by to haul in the main sheet. The only thing in the shape of a boat was a small canoe which lay in the after part of the vessel. Aided by Cox, the sail was soon hoisted, but scarcely had the dhow heeled over to the breeze, than cries arose from the Arab crew, who made frantic gesticulations, indicating that the vessel was sinking. Ned at once suspected the cause; their second shot must have struck the bows of the dhow between wind and water, and had probably started a plank, so as to allow the sea, like a mill stream, to rush into her. There was little hope of stopping it. Ned put up the helm. “Lower the sail!” he shouted as he had never shouted before; the seamen endeavoured to obey the order, but the halyards had again become jammed, and to his dismay he saw that the bows of the dhow were rapidly sinking. As the water rushed into the hold the poor blacks uttered the most piercing shrieks, while the panic-stricken Arabs in a body frantically sprang towards the after part of the vessel; but as they came along, the light deck gave way beneath their weight, and the whole of them were precipitated on to the heads of the hapless negroes below.

“We must save ourselves, sir,” cried Stone, lifting the canoe. “It is our only chance, or we shall be drowned with the rest.”

“Where is Cox?” exclaimed Ned.

He had fallen in among the struggling Arabs and blacks. Ned caught sight of him for a moment, and was springing forward to help him out from their midst, when the stern of the dhow lifted. Stone launched the canoe and leaped into her, shouting to his young officer to join him, while he paddled with a piece of board clear of the sinking vessel. Ned seeing that Cox had managed to reach the side, sprang overboard, his example being followed by the latter, as well as by the young Arab who had remained aft. Before any of the rest of the crew had extricated themselves, the dhow, plunging her head into the sea, rapidly glided downwards, and in an instant the despairing cries of the perishing wretches which had filled the air were silenced. Stone, influenced by the natural desire of saving his own life, paddled away with might and main to escape being drawn down in the vortex. Ned had also struck out bravely, though he had to exert all his swimming powers to escape. For an instant he cast a glance back; the dhow had disappeared with all those on board; Cox was nowhere to be seen; he caught sight, however, of the young Arab, who, having clutched hold of a piece of bamboo, had come to the surface, but was evidently no swimmer.

“I must try and save that poor fellow,” he thought. “I can manage to keep him afloat until the canoe gets up to us.” Ned carried out his intention. On reaching the young Arab he made a sign to him to turn on his back, placing the piece of bamboo under him. Just then he heard a faint shout—it came from Cox, who had returned to the surface, though, like the Arab, unable to swim.

“Save me, save me!” shouted Cox, who was clinging to a log of wood.

Stone heard him, and Ned saw the head of the canoe turned towards where the seaman was struggling.

“Pick him up first!” he shouted to Stone. “I can keep this man afloat until you come to us.”

With only a board to impel the canoe, it took Stone a considerable time to reach his messmate, whom it was then no easy matter to get into the canoe without upsetting her. While Stone was thus employed, Ned did his uttermost to calm the fears of the young Arab, who, besides being unable to swim, probably recollected that sharks abounded in those seas, and dreaded lest he and the Englishman might be attacked by one. Ned thought only of one thing, that he had to keep himself and a fellow-creature afloat until the canoe should come up to them. As to how they should get on board, he did not allow himself to think just then. She was scarcely large enough to hold four people, though she might possibly support the whole party until Rhymer could send the boat to pick them up. Ned, withdrawing his eyes from poor Cox, who was clinging to his log, and shouting to his messmate to make haste, looked towards the dhow of which Rhymer was in chase. She had hoisted her sail, and should the breeze continue, would very probably get away, unless Rhymer, by killing or wounding some of her crew, could make the others give in. He, it was pretty clear, was so eagerly engaged in pursuing the chase, that he had not seen the dhow go down. The boat’s crew, however, must have perceived what had happened; and Ned thought it strange that he did not at once return to try and save him and his two men.

“Perhaps he fancies that we are all lost, and that there would be no use in coming to look after us. If he catches the dhow, however, I hope that he will send back the boat, on the chance of any of us having escaped,” thought Ned. He could see the sails of the corvette, and an occasional shot told him that she was still firing at the slavers. She was already almost hull down, and the catastrophe could not have been discovered from her deck, while the eyes of the look-outs aloft were probably fixed on the dhows still trying to escape. Still Ned did not give up hopes of being rescued, but continued energetically treading water, and speaking in as cheerful a tone as he could command to keep up the spirits of the young Arab.

“Me understand, t’ankee, t’ankee,” said the latter at last.

Still Stone could make but slow progress, and Ned began to fear that his own strength might become exhausted before the canoe could reach him. He was truly thankful when at last he saw that Stone had got hold of Cox, and was dragging him on board. Just at that moment, however, to his horror, he caught sight of a dark fin above the surface; that it was that of a shark he knew too well. He must do his utmost to keep the monster at a distance. He shouted, and splashed the water with his disengaged hand.

“Be quick, be quick, Stone!” he cried. “Do you see that brute?”

“Aye, aye, sir, I see him; but he’ll not come nigh you while you’re splashing about, and the canoe is too big a morsel for him to attack. Now, Ben,” he cried, turning to his messmate, “haul yourself on board while I keep at the other end of the canoe, it is the safest plan.”

But poor Cox was too much exhausted by his violent struggles to do as he was advised, and at last Stone had to help him, at the risk of upsetting the canoe or bringing her bow under the water. By lying flat along he succeeded, however, at last in hauling his shipmate’s shoulders over the bows. He then returned to the stern, when Ben, by great exertion, managed to drag himself in. This done, Stone endeavoured as fast as he could to get up to Ned. As Stone paddled, he sung out, “I’m afraid it’s of no use trying to keep that Arab fellow above water; you must let him go, for the canoe won’t hold us all.”

“Not while I have life and strength to help him,” answered Ned. “Do not be afraid,” he added, turning to the Arab, who understood what Stone had said. “The canoe may support us even though she is brought down to the gunwale; and if she can’t, I’ll keep outside and hold on until Mr Rhymer’s boat comes back, or the corvette sends to look for us.”

“But the shark!” cried Stone; “the brute may be grabbing you if you remain quiet even for a minute.”

“I don’t intend to remain quiet,” said Ned. “Here, lift the Arab in. I’ll help you—it can be done.” There certainly was a great risk of the canoe upsetting in doing as Ned proposed. Cox, however, leaned over on the opposite side, and they at length succeeded in getting the Arab on board. The gunwale of the canoe was scarcely a couple of inches above the water; a slight ripple would have filled her, but the sea was so smooth that there was no fear of that happening. Ned, directing the men how to place themselves, was at last drawn safely on board. His additional weight brought the canoe almost flush with the water. They were, however, certainly better off in her than in the water; but at any moment, with the slightest increase of wind, she might fill and sink beneath them, and they would again be left to struggle for their lives. Ned was afraid of moving, and urged his companions to remain perfectly still.

“Look out, Stone; what is the dhow about? Mr Rhymer will surely soon be sending the boat to our relief—he must have seen our craft go down.”

“Not so sure of that; he’ll not trouble himself about us,” muttered Stone. “If you were there, you’d do it; all officers are not alike.”

Ned was afraid that the seaman might be right, but he did not express an opinion on the subject. Their position was, indeed, a trying one. The sun struck down with intense heat on their heads, while they had not a particle of food to satisfy their hunger, nor a drop of fresh water to quench their burning thirst. The breeze had sprung up, and every now and then a ripple broke over the gunwale, even though Stone kept the canoe before the wind.

“If we had a couple of paddles, we might gain on the corvette; but I’m afraid of using this bit of board, for fear of taking the water in on one side or the other,” said Stone.

“Do not attempt it,” answered Ned; “we should not overtake her unless it should fall calm again, and the commander will surely come and look for us.”

“Provided Mr Rhymer doesn’t tell him we are all lost,” remarked Stone, who had evidently little confidence in the old mate.

Hour after hour went by, the boat was nowhere to be seen, and the dhows’ sails had sunk beneath the horizon. Night was approaching, and as far as the occupants of the canoe could judge, no help was at hand. Ned endeavoured, as well as he could, to keep up the spirits of his companions.

The wind remained light, and the sea was as smooth as a mill-pond. The approaching darkness so far brought relief that they were no longer exposed to the burning rays of the sun, while the cooler air of night greatly relieved them. As the day had passed by, so it appeared probable would the night, without bringing them succour. Ben and the Arab slept, but Ned was too anxious to close his eyes, and Stone insisted on keeping a look-out, on the chance of any vessel passing which might take them on board. Even an Arab dhow would be welcome, for the Arabs would doubtless be willing to receive them on board for the sake of obtaining a reward for preserving their lives. At last the Arab, whose head was resting on Ned’s side, awoke. He appeared to be in a very weak state, and told Ned, in his broken English, that he thought he was dying.

“Try and keep alive until to-morrow morning,” said Ned; “by that time our ship will be looking for us, and as they know where we were left, we are sure to be seen.”

Ned had been calculating that it was about two hours to dawn, when, in spite of his efforts to keep awake, he found his head dropping back on Ben’s legs, and he was soon fast asleep. How long he had been lost in forgetfulness he could not tell, when he heard Stone give a loud hail.

“What is that?” asked Ned, lifting up his head. “I heard voices and a splash of oars, sir,” he answered; “they were a long way off, and, I fancied, passed to the southward.”

“Silence, then,” said Ned; “we will listen for their reply.”

No answering hail came, and he feared that Stone must have been mistaken; again he listened. “Yes, those were human voices and the dip of oars in the water. We’ll shout together. Rouse yourself, Cox,” he said.

Ben sat up, and, Stone leading, they shouted together at the top of their voices, the young Arab joining them. Again they were silent, but no answer came. “If that is a boat, they surely must have heard us,” observed Ned.

“They may be talking themselves, sir, or the noise of their oars prevented them,” remarked Stone.

“We’ll shout again, then,” said Ned.

Again they shouted, this time louder than before. They waited a few seconds, almost afraid to breathe, and then there came across the water a British cheer, sounding faintly in the distance.

“Hurrah! hurrah! All right, sir!” cried Stone. They shouted several times after this to guide the boat towards them. At length they could see her emerging from the gloom; but no one on board her had apparently seen the canoe, for, from the speed the boat was going and the course she was steering, she was evidently about to pass them.

“Boat ahoy!” shouted Stone. “Here we are, but take care not to run us down.”

The boat’s course was altered; they soon heard a voice, it was that of Charley Meadows, crying out, “There is something floating ahead of us, a raft or a sunken boat.”

“Meadows ahoy!” hailed Ned. “Come carefully alongside.” The oars were thrown in, and the boat glided up to the canoe.

“Why, Ned, Ned! I am so thankful that I have found you,” cried Charley, as he grasped the hand of his messmate after he had been helped on board.

“There is a poor Arab, take care of him, for he is pretty far gone already,” said Ned.

“Water, water,” murmured the Arab faintly.

There was fortunately a breaker in the boat, and before many words were exchanged some of the refreshing liquid was served out to Ned and his companions. Except a few biscuits there was nothing to eat, but even these soaked in water served to refresh the well-nigh famished party.

Charley then explained that the corvette, having captured three of the dhows, all with slaves on board, had hove to for the purpose of transferring their cargoes to her deck; and that while so occupied, Rhymer had arrived with a fourth, several of the Arab crew having been wounded in attempting to get away. “The commander seeing you were not on board, inquired what had become of you, when Rhymer, with very little concern, replied that he feared you all had gone to the bottom with the dhow, as his boat’s crew asserted that they had seen her founder. The commander was very indignant at his not having gone back at once to try and pick you up, should you by any means have escaped. He immediately ordered off three boats—the second lieutenant going in one, Rhymer in another, while he gave me charge of the third. What has become of the other two boats I do not know; perhaps they thought that they had come far enough and have gone back, as I confess I was on the point of doing when I heard your hail. We shall soon, I hope, fall in with the ship, for she is sure to beat back over the ground until she has picked us up.”

“I shall be thankful to get on board for the sake of this poor Arab, who requires the doctor’s care,” said Ned.

“Why, isn’t he one of the slaver’s crew?” exclaimed Charley. “An arrant rogue, I dare say.”

“I don’t know about that, but I saved his life,” answered Ned, “and I feel an interest in him; he seems grateful too, as far as I can judge.”

He then asked the Arab, who was sitting near him, whether he would have some more water, and handed him the cup, which was full.

“T’ankee, t’ankee!” answered the Arab; “much t’ankee!” Ned then gave him some more sopped biscuit.

“What’s his name?” inquired Charley. “Ask him, as he seems to speak English.”

“Sayd,” answered the Arab immediately, showing that he understood what was said.

Charley was now steering the boat to the northward. In a short time day broke, and as the sun rose, his rays fell on the white canvas of the corvette, which was standing close-hauled to the south-west, her black hull just seen above the horizon.

“Hurrah!” cried Charley, “there’s the old ‘barky’; I hope we shall soon be on board.”

“If she stands on that course she’ll pass us,” said Ned.

“No fear of that,” answered Charley; “she’ll soon be about, and we shall be on board and all to rights.”

He was not mistaken; the corvette immediately tacked, her canvas, which had hitherto seemed of snowy whiteness, being thrown into dark shadow. She now stood towards the south-east, on a course which would bring her so near that the boat would soon be seen from her deck. Before long she again came to the wind.

“She is going about again!” exclaimed Ned.

“No, no, she’s heaving to to pick up one of the boats,” answered Charley.

He was again right; in a few minutes the sails were once more filled, and she stood on. The wind being light, the midshipmen had to wait for some time before they were certain that the boat was seen. The corvette again appeared as if about to pass them, but soon put about, and in less than a quarter of an hour she hove to, to enable Charley to steer alongside.

“Hurrah!” he shouted as he approached, “we have them all safe.”

A cheer rose from the throats of the crew as they received this announcement. Ned with his companions were assisted up the side. As he passed along the gangway he observed the unusual appearance which the deck presented, covered as it was by an almost countless number of black figures, men, women, and children, most of them squatting down in the attitudes they had been compelled to preserve on board the slave vessels. He had, however, to make his way aft to the commander, who put out his hand and cordially congratulated him on his escape.

Ned having reported what had happened to himself, added, “There’s a poor Arab with me, sir, who requires to be looked after by the doctor. He seems grateful to me for having kept him afloat until the canoe picked us up.”

“In other words you saved his life, Garth, at the peril of your own, as far as I can understand. The surgeon will attend to him; and I hope the risk he has run of losing his life will induce him to give up slave-trading for the future. Now, my lad, you must turn into your hammock, you look as if you required rest.”

Ned confessed that such was the case, but hinted that he and Sayd would first of all be glad of some food. This was soon brought him, and scarcely a minute had passed after he had tumbled into his hammock before he was fast asleep.

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