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Dick Sands, The Boy Captain, a fiction by Jules Verne

Part The Second - Chapter 17. Drifting Down The Stream

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_ PART THE SECOND
CHAPTER XVII. DRIFTING DOWN THE STREAM


“Off we go!” It was the voice of Hercules addressing Dick Sands, who, frightfully debilitated by recent sufferings, was leaning against Cousin Benedict for support. Dingo was lying at his feet.

Mrs. Weldon gradually recovered her consciousness. Looking around her in amazement she caught sight of Dick.

“Dick, is it you?” she muttered feebly.

The lad with some difficulty arose, and took her hand in his, while Jack overwhelmed him with kisses.

“And who would have thought it was you, Hercules, that carried us away?” said the child; “I did not know you a bit; you were so dreadfully ugly.”

“I was a sort of a devil, you know, Master Jack,” Hercules answered; “and the devil is not particularly handsome;” and he began rubbing his chest vigorously to get rid of the white pattern with which he had adorned it.

Mrs. Weldon held out her hand to him with a grateful smile.

“Yes, Mrs. Weldon, he has saved you, and although he does not own it, he has saved me too,” said Dick.

“Saved!” repeated Hercules, “you must not talk about safety, for you are not saved yet.”

And pointing to Benedict, he continued,—

“That’s where your thanks are due; unless he had come and informed me all about you and where you were, I should have known nothing, and should have been powerless to aid you.”

It was now five days since he had fallen in with the entomologist as he was chasing the manticora, and unceremoniously had carried him off.

As the canoe drifted rapidly along the stream, Hercules briefly related his adventures since his escape from the encampment on the Coanza. He described how he had followed the kitanda which was conveying Mrs. Weldon; how in the course of his march he had found Dingo badly wounded; how he and the dog together had reached the neighbourhood of Kazonndé, and how he had contrived to send a note to Dick, intending to inform him of Mrs. Weldon’s destination. Then he went on to say that since his unexpected rencontre with Cousin Benedict he had watched very closely for a chance to get into the guardeddépôt, but until now had entirely failed. A celebrated mganga had been passing on his way through the forest, and he had resolved upon impersonating him as a means of gaining the admittance he wanted. His strength made the undertaking sufficiently easy; and having stripped the magician of his paraphernalia, and bound him securely to a tree, he painted his own body with a pattern like that which he observed on his victim’s chest, and having attired himself with the magical garments was quite equipped to impose upon the credulous natives. The result of his stratagem they had all that day witnessed.

He had hardly finished his account of himself when Mrs. Weldon, smiling at his success, turned to Dick.

“And how, all this time, my dear boy, has it fared with you?” she asked.

Dick said,—

“I remember very little to tell you. I recollect being fastened to a stake in the river-bed and the water rising and rising till it was above my head. My last thoughts were about yourself and Jack. Then everything became a blank, and I knew nothing more until I found myself amongst the papyrus on the river-bank, with Hercules tending me like a nurse.”

“You see I am the right sort of mganga” interposed Hercules; “I am a doctor as well as a conjurer.”

“But tell me, Hercules, how did you save him?”

“Oh, it was not a difficult matter by any means,” answered Hercules modestly; “it was dark, you know, so that at the proper moment it was quite possible to wade in amongst the poor wretches at the bottom of the trench, and to wrench the stake from its socket. Anybody could have done it. Cousin Benedict could have done it. Dingo, too, might have done it. Perhaps, after all, it was Dingo that did it.”

“No, no, Hercules, that won’t do,” cried Jack; “besides, look, Dingo is shaking his head; he is telling you he didn’t do it.”

“Dingo must not tell tales, Master Jack,” said Hercules, laughing.

But, nevertheless, although the brave fellow’s modesty prompted him to conceal it, it was clear that he had accomplished a daring feat, of which few would have ventured to incur the risk.

Inquiry was next made after Tom, Bat, Actæon, and Austin. His countenance fell, and large tears gathered in his eyes as Hercules told how he had seen them pass through the forest in a slave-caravan. They were gone; he feared they were gone for ever.

Mrs. Weldon tried to console him with the hope that they might still be spared to meet again some day; but he shook his head mournfully. She then communicated to Dick the terms of the compact that had been entered into for her own release, and observed that under the circumstances it might really have been more prudent for her to remain in Kazonndé.

“Then I have made a mistake; I have been an idiot, in bringing you away,” said Hercules, ever ready to depreciate his own actions.

“No,” said Dick; “you have made no mistake; you could not have done better; those rascals, ten chances to one, will only get Mr. Weldon into some trap. We must get to Mossamedes before Negoro arrives; once there, we shall find that the Portuguese authorities will lend us their protection, and when old Alvez arrives to claim his 100,000 dollars—“

“He shall receive a good thrashing for his pains,” said Hercules, finishing Dick’s sentence, and chuckling heartily at the prospect.

It was agreed on all hands that it was most important that Negoro’s arrival at Mossamedes should be forestalled. The plan which Dick had so long contemplated of reaching the coast by descending some river seemed now in a fair way of being accomplished, and from the northerly direction in which they were proceeding it was quite probable that they would ultimately reach the Zaire, and in that case not actually arrive at S. Paul de Loanda; but that would be immaterial, as they would be sure of finding help anywhere in the colonies of Lower Guinea.

On finding himself on the river-bank, Dick’s first thought had been to embark upon one of the floating islands that are continually to be seen upon the surface of the African streams, but it happened that Hercules during one of his rambles found a native boat that had run adrift. It was just the discovery that suited their need. It was one of the long, narrow canoes, thirty feet in length by three or four in breadth, that with a large number of paddles can be driven with immense velocity, but by the aid of a single scull can be safely guided down the current of a stream.

Dick was somewhat afraid that, to elude observation, it would be necessary to proceed only by night, but as the loss of twelve hours out of the twenty-four would double the length of the voyage, he devised the plan of covering the canoe with a roof of long grass, supported by a horizontal pole from stem to stern, and this not only afforded a shelter from the sun, but so effectually concealed the craft, rudder-scull and all, that the very birds mistook it for one of the natural islets, and red-beaked gulls, black arringhas and grey and white kingfishers would frequently alight upon it in search of food.

Though comparatively free from fatigue, the voyage must necessarily be long, and by no means free from danger, and the daily supply of provisions was not easy to procure. If fishing failed, Dick had the one gun which Hercules had carried away with him from the ant-hill, and as he was by no means a bad shot, he hoped to find plenty of game, either along the banks or by firing through a loophole in the thatch.

The rate of the current, as far as he could tell, was about two miles an hour, enough to carry them about fifty miles a day; it was a speed, however, that made it necessary for them to keep a sharp look-out for any rocks or submerged trunks of trees, as well as to be on their guard against rapids and cataracts.

Dick’s strength and spirits all revived at the delight of having Mrs. Weldon and Jack restored to him, and he assumed his post at the bow of the canoe, directing Hercules how to use the scull at the stern. A litter of soft grass was made for Mrs. Weldon, who spent most of her time lying thoughtfully in the shade. Cousin Benedict was very taciturn; he had not recovered the loss of the manticora, and frowned ever and again at Hercules, as if he had not yet forgiven him for stopping him in the chase. Jack, who had been told that he must not be noisy, amused himself by playing with Dingo.

The first two days passed without any special incident. The stock of provisions was quite enough for that time, so that there was no need to disembark, and Dick merely lay to for a few hours in the night to take a little necessary repose.

The stream nowhere exceeded 150 feet in breadth. The floating islands moved at the same pace as the canoe, and except from some unforeseen circumstance, there could be no apprehension of a collision. The banks were destitute of human inhabitants, but were richly clothed with wild plants, of which the blossoms were of the most gorgeous colours; the asclepiae, the gladiolus, the clematis, lilies, aloes, umbelliferae, arborescent ferns and fragrant shrubs, combining on either hand to make a border of surpassing beauty. Here and there the forest extended to the very shore, and copal-trees, acacias with their stiff foliage, bauhinias clothed with lichen, fig-trees with their masses of pendant roots, and other trees of splendid growth rose to the height of a hundred feet, forming a shade which the rays of the sun utterly failed to penetrate.

Occasionally a wreath of creepers would form an arch from shore to shore, and on the 27th, to Jack’s great delight, a group of monkeys was seen crossing one of these natural bridges, holding on most carefully by their tails, lest the aerial pathway should snap beneath their weight. These monkeys, belonging to a smaller kind of chimpanzee, which are known in Central Africa by the name of sokos, were hideous creatures with low foreheads, bright yellow faces, and long, upright ears; they herd in troops of about ten, bark like dogs, and are much dreaded by the natives on account of their alleged propensity to carry off young children; there is no telling what predatory designs they might have formed against Master Jack if they had spied him out, but Dick’s artifice effectually screened him from their observation.

Twenty miles further on the canoe came to a sudden standstill.

“What’s the matter now, captain?” cried Hercules from the stern.

“We have drifted on to a grass barrier, and there is no hope for it, we shall have to cut our way through,” answered Dick.

“All right, I dare say we shall manage it,” promptly replied Hercules, leaving his rudder to come in front.

The obstruction was formed by the interlacing of masses of the tough, glossy grass known by the name of tikatika, which, when compressed, affords a surface so compact and resisting that travellers have been known by means of it to cross rivers dry-footed. Splendid specimens of lotus plants had taken root amongst the vegetation.

As it was nearly dark, Hercules could leave the boat without much fear of detection, and so effectually did he wield his hatchet that, in two hours after the stoppage, the barrier was hewn asunder, and the light craft resumed the channel.

It must be owned that it was with a sense of reluctance that Benedict felt the boat was again beginning to move forward; the whole voyage appeared to him to be perfectly uninteresting and unnecessary; not a single insect had he observed since he left Kazonndé, and his most ardent wish was that he could return there and regain possession of his invaluable tin box. But an unlooked for gratification was in store for him.

Hercules, who had been his pupil long enough to have an eye for the kind of creature Benedict was ever trying to secure, on coming back from his exertions on the grass-barrier, brought a horrible-looking animal, and submitted it to the sullen entomologist.

“Is this of any use to you?”

The amateur lifted it up carefully, and having almost poked it into his near-sighted eyes, uttered a cry of delight,—

“Bravo, Hercules! you are making amends for your past mischief; it is splendid! it is unique!”

“Is it really very curious?” said Mrs. Weldon.

“Yes, indeed,” answered the enraptured naturalist; “it is really unique; it belongs to neither of the ten orders; it can be classed neither with the coleoptera, neuroptera, nor to the hymenoptera: if it had eight legs I should know how to classify it; I should place it amongst the second section of the arachnida; but it is a hexapod, a genuine hexapod; a spider with six legs; a grand discovery; it must be entered on the catalogue as ‘Hexapodes Benedictus.’ ” Once again mounted on his hobby, the worthy enthusiast continued to discourse with an unwonted vivacity to his indulgent ii* not over attentive audience.

Meanwhile the canoe was steadily threading its way over the dark waters, the silence of the night broken only by the rattle of the scales of some crocodiles, or by the snorting of hippopotamuses in the neighbourhood. Once the travellers were startled by a loud noise, such as might proceed from some ponderous machinery in motion: it was caused by a troop of a hundred or more elephants that, after feasting through the day on the roots of the forest, had come to quench their thirst at the river-side.

But no danger was to be apprehended; lighted by the pale moon that rose over the tall trees, the canoe throughout the night pursued in safety its solitary voyage. _

Read next: Part The Second: Chapter 18. An Anxious Voyage

Read previous: Part The Second: Chapter 16. A Magician

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