TRUE T/\LE FOR, 'A SIR SAMUEL W. BAKER TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS WELL, I GUESS YOU AIR AN ELEGANT PERFORMER IN THE WAY OF DISAPPEARANCES.'/, n. Frontispiece. TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS BY SIR SAMUEL WHITE BACKER M.A., F.R.S., F.R.G.S. WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS BY W. J. HENNESSY MACMILLAN AND CO. 1883 Printed by R. & R. CLARK, PREFACE. THE love of truth is a charm in human nature. The first question of the young when listening to a tale of adventure, " Is it true?" expresses the natural desire of the sympa- thetic mind. Should a story be fiction, at least one -half the interest would disappear, as the characters become unreal ; but if true, we share the joys and sorrows of the persons whose actions create the tale, and we appreciate the reality of the scene. In the arrangement of these anecdotes I have carefully avoided fiction, each story being absolutely true in the main facts. Names of persons may have been either changed or with- held, and occasionally some extra may have been introduced to the dramatis persona ; but the chief incidents will appear precisely as they occurred, or as they were related to me by reliable authorities. vi PREFACE. I shall endeavour, without special classifica- tion, to vary the character of these stories, to be selected according to the taste of the reader; some old grandfathers may perchance discover an interest in a work that was arranged for the benefit of my grandsons. The various portions of the world connected with these tales will be faithfully described, the physical geography of the localities being in all cases accurate, to form a combination of scenes with incidents as instructive pictures of reality. CONTENTS. PAGE T. BUMMER AND HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. i II. THE CRUISE OF THE WHALER "SOPHIA" ... 33 III EVERARD HARCOURT; OR, THE YOUNG CADET . . 153 IV. HASSAN ALI AND THE GOLDEN BASIN . . . .292 V. SOMETHING ABOUT DOGS, AND MY GRANDFATHER'S STORY 336 VI. ELEPHANT TALES, AND REMINISCENCES OF NATURAL HISTORY . .352 CONCLUSION 434 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE "WELL, I GUESS YOU AIR AN ELEGANT PERFORMER IN THE WAY OF DISAPPEARANCES" .... Frontispiece "WHAT'S THE MATTER, OLD BOY?" 31 SHE FLUNG HER ARMS AROUND HIS NECK AND SOBBED BITTERLY $6 NEXT INSTANT THE BOAT WITH ITS ENTIRE CREW WAS DASHED COMPLETELY OUT OF THE WATER ... 78 THE BURNING SHIP CAST A LURID GLOW OF RED FAR AND WIDE . 113 " POOR SOUL, I DO PITY YOU, INDEED ! " . . . 148 "HOW QUICKLY THE HOURS FLY!" . . . . 155 THE WIDOW THREW HERSELF AT THE FEET OF MAJOR SELWYN 201 " IS IT POSSIBLE THAT TWENTY YEARS HAVE PASSED SINCE WE LAST MET?" 279 HASSAN ALI'S VILLAGE ON THE NILE ..... 294 HE FORCED THE HEAD OF THE ATTACKING ELEPHANT HIGH INTO THE AIR 377 DASHED STRAIGHT AT THE NEAREST BUCK . . . .397 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS OF LAND AND SEA. BUMMER AND HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. CHAPTER I. AMONG the rapid developments of geographical centres during the last half century there is no more striking example than the rise and progress of California. About thirty years ago the first rude settlement was established upon the site of the now famous city of San Francisco. At that time the gold mania was at its height ; and rough horny-fisted men, tempted by the glittering tales of the El Dorado in the Far West, had started upon their perilous enter- prise, and slowly but perseveringly crept onwards across the barren prairies of America. Savage tribes of Indians attempted to obstruct their progress, and many of the hardy pioneers fell before the tomahawk and arrow ; their fair-haired scalps adorned the wigwams of the barbarous victors, and remained as trophies, blood-stained emblems of the first rough footsteps of advancing civilisation. 2 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. We are fond of that word "civilisation;" every syllable is euphonious, and the total is a comforting assurance that the great and hitherto unknown world is progressing ; but how few are aware of the horrors which in every portion of the globe have preceded the result ! It is only necessary to refer to Biblical history, where, instead of the word " civilisation," the name of God was used by the Israelites as the authority and shield to cover and condone the terrible atroci- ties of an advance into the Promised Land. Could we trace the actual footsteps of progression in the world's history we should find them printed in red letters and in blood. It is useless to argue upon the great principles of right and wrong ; the fact remains, that civilisa- tion, misconstrued by philanthropists, means "force? and savagedom means weakness the force must advance, the weakness must recede, and eventually disappear. Thus from the earliest history the world has revolved in clouds and sunshine ; the dark days of barbarism, after a glow of fearful red, bursting into the bright light of what we term " civilisation." And so the pioneers advanced across America, rifle in hand, representing the germ of the East that must extend its sway. God only knows why or by what reason, but the Anglo-Saxon dominates, and will prevail. The waggons travelled wearily over trackless plains, salt efflorescence, and alkali, which drifted be- fore the wind like dusty snow, and nearly choked the CH. i BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 3 weary animals and men miles after miles, weeks after weeks, in constant toil, the pioneers laboured on- wards towards the unknown land. The oxen sickened upon the wretched sage-scrub and water charged with soda ; the waggons sank in the deep gullies ; but the spirit of the pioneers never faltered. The Indians hovered around their path. Many of their comrades had fallen from fatigue or arrow, and had found rest in the rough-hewn graves that marked the track in this march of desolation ; but there was no murmur for retreat, the iron nerve and will of the Anglo-Saxon was driving like a wedge slowly but surely forward. The salt plains were passed, and the pine-clad mountains of Nevada, trackless and snow-drifted, six thousand feet above the level of the sea, chilled and bewildered the almost hopeless emigrants. Enor- mous trees, fallen in countless tempests, strewed the forests and blocked the advance of wheels. The axe for the first time sounded in those solitudes, and with painful labour the way was cleared. The waggons crept forward, down into deep valleys where lakes sparkled with clear water from the melted snow, and reflected the dark foliage of the overhanging pines ; then upward over heights where icy pinnacles froze into glassy rocks above their route. The night was never silent. When the pine logs crackled and sparkled into bright fireworks high in air the cry of the wolves was heard around the camp, and the grizzly bear was distinguished by its guttural roar. In those days this giant of the forest was instinctively dreaded, as the rifles were of exceedingly small 4 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. calibre, owing to the difficulty of transporting heavy ammunition. At length the slope determined towards the west ; the waggons travelled quicker ; the temperature in- creased, and all hearts became lighter as the route was inclining downwards. The forests no longer intercepted the distant view, and far beyond the plain which stretched to the horizon was a faint gray line, apparently high above the earth. The sea ! the sea ! Who can appreciate the feeling of delight which braced the hearts of those early pioneers when there was no longer a doubt, but the broad Pacific lay before them ! Following the slopes of the Sacra- mento River, they at length emerged upon the plain now known as the Sacramento Valley ; and, skirting the broad lake or inlet of the sea which stretches for about fifty miles land-locked from the ocean, they halted opposite the sandy point where the hills rose boldly from the sea, and formed an abrupt entrance to this vast harbour. That gap or inroad of the Pacific, with steep hills upon either side, forms the neck, or what is now termed the Golden Gate of San Francisco. Ships enter the Golden Gate in the present day between frowning batteries upon either side, which completely command the entrance of the Strait. This narrow throat is hardly a mile in width, and the hills being several hundred feet above the water level, give an imposing appearance to the approach. There is a barren aspect owing to the absence of trees, and the great surge of the Pacific bursting upon CH. i. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 5 the perpendicular rocks outside the Golden Gate throws a cloud of spray high into the air, and gives an appearance of wild desolation to this dangerous coast. Rocky islands fringe the shore. These are the resort of seals, and are almost covered with huge sea-lions, which bask in the warm sunshine, and curiously manage to raise themselves from rock to rock by their flappers and tails, until they reach an elevation of thirty or forty feet above the sea. Many of these creatures exceed the bulk of a large cart- horse ; as they are never disturbed, no change has taken place in their habits or numbers, while the neighbouring country has been thoroughly trans- formed. The barren sandy waste upon which the city of San Francisco has been erected was the first spot where the early settlers landed when their vessels entered the Golden Gate. A few huts were rapidly constructed ; and as by degrees fresh adventurers arrived, a nucleus was formed which has grown into an important city, upon a deplorable site, ill chosen, and exposed to prevailing winds and fogs which chill the climate and try the constitutions of men and animals. On the opposite side of the har- bour, a fruitful soil and more sheltered locality would have offered a perfect situation for an extensive city. This is now springing into importance, and the country is dotted with pretty villas and well-kept gardens, while Oaklands is rapidly becoming an important town. Magnificent steam ferryboats of about 1600 or 2000 tons traverse the harbour between San Fran- 6 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. cisco and Oaklands every quarter of an hour through- out the day, and in a transit of about twenty minutes cross the widest portion. The entire country is in . cultivation. Fields of many acres are planted with tomatoes, which grow in similar quantities to the swedes and mangolds of Great Britain. These are produced upon this exten- sive scale for preservation in cans, in like manner with the peaches, pears, and other fruits, for which California is now famous in supplying the distant world. For many miles in the neighbourhood of Oak- lands the country is divided into fruit farms and gardens, where cherries of immense size, currants, and all the well-known European fruits, are culti- vated for export. It is a strange result of only a few years' enterprise that the interminable waste of salt deserts, and apparently boundless forests and prairies, which were so laboriously toiled across by the weary pioneers, should now be traversed by ex- press trains laden with the rich grapes and other fruits of California for the supply of New York city. This is the effect of the white man's advent. The Red Indian has disappeared ; the elk, that were numerous when the gold-seekers first turned the soil, have almost ceased to exist ; and herds of splendid cattle of the best English breeds have usurped the pasturage of the wild deer. A soil of extreme rich- ness glows with yellow crops of wheat, which the farmer thrashes upon the field in a climate where rain during harvest is unknown. The corn is packed in sacks, and the agricultural wealth of the country CH. i. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 7 is displayed by the enormous rows of these neat .packages built into parallel bulwarks along the quays of San Francisco, for shipment to the great consumer England. At first sight it appears impossible that wheat can bear the cost of transport from such an immense distance as California by the Cape Horn route ; but the farmer of the Far West has many advantages. A dependable climate renders him independent of barns and rick-making, and saves the great expense of labour in harvesting his crops. The land is free from many onerous charges which burden the soil of England ; and the earth without manure yields remunerative crops, recuperated only by the system of rotation. Of late years the cultivation of the grape has attracted much attention ; and the Californian wines will at some future time command a European market, when the growers shall have gained experi- ence in their manufacture. It is considered that no agricultural industry offers such tempting prospects as the grape, both for the production of wine and for transport as fruit, to Eastern America. There are many soils throughout the world that are well adapted for fruit cultivation, but few climates that are suitable to its preservation. Dryness at the period of ripening is essential, and this is assured in California ; thus not only are fruits of great variety preserved in cans, but apples, peaches, blackberries, etc. etc., are dried simply in the sun, and are packed in this inexpensive form for export, in addition to the large quantities reserved for home consumption. 8 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. The agricultural development which now con- stitutes the permanent wealth of California, is the result of a vast influx of settlers who followed the original gold-seekers, and who turned their attention to farming when the mines became either exhausted or overcrowded. Colossal fortunes have been realised by the early adventurers in mines, and by those who purchased large tracts of land at a time when few were sufficiently far-sighted to foresee the immense rise in value that would be ensured by a few years' patience. The society of the present day is a great improve- ment upon that of ten years ago. It may be readily imagined that the rough and untutored miners who were first attracted to California, exhibited the daring and persistent courage of their class, but were mingled with others whose brutal natures, when beyond the pale of laws, could only be restrained by the rough and ready justice of Lynch law inflicted by those who represented public opinion. The knife and revolver were the ready arguments that quickly appeared, as they were never absent from the person. Card-playing, gambling, and low drinking shops were the certain accompaniments to a first settlement, where the absence of women in the earliest days of mining enterprise deprived the men of all home attractions. A touching story is told of a miner who arrived with his young wife in a remote locality where no white woman had hitherto been seen. This modest and beautiful, but solitary specimen of her sex, exer- cised a peculiar influence upon the rough community CH. i. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 9 around her. Men, hardened by unpunished crimes, were softened by the presence of one who to them appeared angelic ; the brutal oaths, which had formed the greater portion of their vocabulary, were sup- pressed when she was near. The news spread far and wide, and many rough but warm-hearted men left their mining operations to visit the attractive spot, and would sit down and gaze at this young woman till their eyes filled with strange and unaccustomed tears, as the sight of her good face recalled the memory of those of their own, so far distant, from whom they had been separated for many years. Unfortunately the benefit of woman's civilising companionship was quickly destroyed by the arrival of a different class, as the gold poured forth from the mountain sides into the hands of the lowest specimens of our race. The keepers of gambling and drinking booths were paid in nuggets and gold dust ; and men who were fitted only for the gallows rapidly became rich. By degrees the necessity of the situation induced the needed reforms. " Vigilance Committees " were formed, and the notorious characters were proscribed and quickly banished from the locality ; or executed forthwith, if caught red-handed. The rapid increase of wealth and population evolved a city from the original small nucleus, and San Francisco was laid out in broad and imposing streets. Few would have believed had it been fore- told in those early but still recent days, that the shops and streets would rival those of Paris and its boulevards in 1882 ! io TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. The city grew forthwith. There was a strange energy throughout the ever - increasing population. This in our slow and steady-going country would have been called a temporary insanity, and the de- sponding minds of England would have prophesied a lamentable reaction. But the city grew. With the increase of wealth came the demand for luxuries and refinement. With the demand came the ever certain supply. Here within a few years was built up a modern landmark of the world's progress, and in a quarter of a century an example was effected of com- mercial development and the results of gold, that omnipotent ruler, Gold ; dominator or tyrant, or idol of this world, without which no such word as " civilisation " could be constructed, and we should have remained in the barbarity of an iron age. One of the first necessities in a community is food. The butcher and the baker are two early and important citizens. When San Francisco was in progress of develop- ment there was necessarily a butcher's shop. The shop that is connected with this story was kept by a respectable citizen, and the supply of meat would have rivalled many such establishments in England. It was a cold day in mid-winter, and although no snow is known in San Francisco, the wind was cutting through the broad street like the edge of a knife. People were wrapped in greatcoats, and were hurrying to their business with umbrellas up, and well bent towards the blast, that drove a misty CH. i. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. n rain straight into their faces, and made the pavement slippery. Everybody was in rapid movement, as the day was not favourable to loiterers ; even the butcher in his open shop was walking to and fro, and occasionally stopped to sharpen his knives briskly, as though an excuse for exercise. The only object in the street that was not in movement was a thin and hungry dog; this sat wistfully upon the wet pavement, and gazed implor- ingly at the butcher's display of meat It was, or rather should have been, a dog of con- siderable size ; but it was in such a reduced condi- tion that its skin hung loosely upon a framework of bones ; and its drawn face, tightened upon the jaws, exhibited a melancholy picture of suffering and neglect Occasionally the under jaw chattered with cold, misery, and anxiety, as it attempted to gain the butcher's attention by a complaining whine. This friendless dog had probably been owned by some stranger to the country, who might have died ; but no one knew the animal, neither had it been seen at that butcher's shop before. The butcher had just sharpened his knife, and to try its edge he trimmed off a ragged end of a joint, and threw the morsel to the expectant dog. That titbit never reached the ground, but was dexterously caught, and as instantly swallowed by the hungry beggar. "Well, I guess you air an elegant performer in the way of disappearances ! " exclaimed the butcher, who followed his exclamation by jerking a larger piece high into the air. In an instant the dog was upon its hind legs, and the 12 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. falling steak was as cleverly intercepted and vanished out of sight. "Well, I'm darned if you ain't a real conjurer, and you'd keep me at this trick till you'd have swallered a whole bullock, you would. You think me fool enough to play this losing game, do yer, pitch and toss the whole of my shop down your hungry throat ? Not if I know it." In spite of this declaration, the indulgent butcher threw successive pieces to the hungry dog, all of which were as quickly swallowed, without an attempt at mastication. " Well, I've seen a good many dogs in my life, but I never met such a regular 'bummer' 1 as you be ; if you haven't packed away within that ugly hide of yours as exquisite a lot of beef as would have stuffed a crowd of famished Irishmen, and you're not half played out yet ! " With reckless generosity the butcher cut a large steak from a coarse joint, and threw it expectantly to the dog, with the exclamation, " Now, Bummer, old boy, I guess that's kill or cure, ain't it ? that's choking or consolation, suffocation or satisfaction, to the hungriest cuss as I ever see'd upon four legs, or I'm no judge." The butcher was right ; it appeared that the dog was satisfied, as, instead of eating the flesh, it hesi- tated for a few moments, and then, taking the large morsel in its mouth, it left the shop, and, turning a corner of the street, disappeared from view. The butcher seemed half disappointed at this retreat. "Ha!" he ejaculated to himself, "you're 1 A bummer is a beggar, or vagrant, or an idle vagabond. CH. i. BUMMER HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 13 like the rest of 'em : eat as much as you can swaller ; fill out your skin at other people's expense; when your belly's full, then fill your pockets, and go off without saying Thank yer ! I wonder you didn't ask for a glass of whiskey ; that's regular human natur. I bet a dollar to a cent that you'll come back again to- morrow, for you're a regular bummer, out and out." On the following morning a change had taken place : the sun was bright, the streets were dry, and people were hurrying along at the usual business pace through the broad thoroughfares of San Fran- cisco. Knots of mining speculators were to be seen at intervals, scrutinising the published lists of stocks and shares with that haggard anxiety of features that marks the inward misery of the gambler. The shops were open, and although many were of rude appearance, a marked improvement was per- ceptible, as plate-glass fronts had been erected, and many others were in progress, exhibiting the general prosperity of the country in the quality of mer- chandise exposed to view. The butcher's shop was in process of washing up, and the butcher himself was busily engaged in suspending choice carcases and joints to the various hooks, sufficient to entice the hungry housekeeper who was patrolling in search of the daily wants. A dog sat before the butcher's shop, looking intently at the tempting display. " Ha, ha!" exclaimed the butcher; "here you are again, Bummer, my boy ! I thought we should have the honour of a second call ; why, you are the coolest old cuss I ever came across, can't wait, but 14 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. must go visiting at sunrise. Early birds get the worms, eh, Bummer ? Come along, old boy ; you're a knowing one, like most empty bellies ; come in here, old lad. Lord, if ever I felt such a bag of bones ! poor old chap," said the now sympathising butcher, as he patted the miserable dog, who, having ventured upon the invitation, had crept hesitatingly within the shop. That day the friendship between Bummer and the butcher was consolidated. " I always wanted another dog since old Tiger was run over and killed," said the butcher to himself, " and now I've got one cheap. He's a thin specimen now, that's sartin ; but I think I can stuff him out within a fortnight, and make him quite an exquisite figure of a dog. And he's curly, and got a well-shaped head, and a regular benevolent kind of an eye ; and a good set of teeth to take care of himself with ; and blessed if I don't think he'll turn out a respectable character some day; won't you, Bummer, eh?" In this strain the now patronising butcher assumed the protectorate of the houseless Bummer ; and the dog, who appar- ently appreciated his position, licked the hand of his new master, and by those endearments which exhibit the affection of the canine race he quickly secured the sympathy of the rough but good-natured citizen. That day was the commencement of Bummer's reign. Stray dogs peeped into the butcher's shop with the intention of purloining and sirloining, but the ever - watchful guardian would rush upon the largest-sized intruder without a moment's hesitation, and no policeman could have surpassed Bummer in CH. i, BUMMER HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 15 the rapidity of his attack or in his detective abilities ; his sole object appeared to be the watch and guard of the shop door throughout the day. The evening came. Shortly after sunset the butcher called his new acquaintance, and, after patting him upon the back, he threw him a large piece of meat. To his astonishment the dog seized it eagerly, but, instead of devouring it upon the spot, our friend Bummer leisurely quitted the shop and trotted off along the street with the flesh secured within his jaws. The night arrived, but the dog had apparently deserted his new master. On the following morning, before the shop was open, Bummer was to be seen waiting expectantly in the street ; and as the butcher opened the door, the dog rushed in, and, leaping upon his master, evinced the greatest pleasure at the meeting. Day after day Bummer arrived in the early morn- ing, kept watch within the shop throughout the hours of business, but retreated in the evening, carrying his supper with him to some mysterious haunt in San Francisco. Bummer was no longer the lean and hungry foundling he had grown plump and handsome the butcher's prophecy had been rapidly fulfilled, and he was " an exquisite figure of a dog," but his eccentricity was perplexing to his master. Why did Bummer refuse to remain at home after sunset? and where did he go every evening carrying a piece of flesh in his mouth instead of eating it upon the spot ? " That beats me holler," exclaimed the 16 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. butcher to several of his friends, to whom he was narrating the peculiarities of his dog; "and I'm blessed if I don't follow him to-night, and just find out the sort of nest that master Bummer sleeps in." Several friends, whose curiosity was excited, deter- mined to accompany the butcher. The evening came. The usual supper was thrown to Bummer, who leisurely walked off with the large piece of meat, and retreated down the street. The dog evinced no anxiety at being followed, and the butcher and a friend walked or ran alter- nately, thus keeping their object in view, as the streets at that hour were no longer crowded. It was a long walk ; and as the streets were laid out in right angles, the newly-built city being arranged in blocks, it appeared that Bummer was taking a rather extraordinary course, which at length emerged upon a sandy waste, where the prevailing wind had raised hillocks of drift upon the outskirts of the city. This was a wild and desolate spot. Nothing could resist the ever-moving sand, which altered its form with every changing breeze, and steadily determined to limit the attempt of man in advancing up wind in that direction. A few small houses had been attempted, but doorways had become choked, and even window-frames of the ground-floor were embedded in several feet of sand, which bore ripple marks, created by the wind, as though by the waves of the sea-shore. Over this barren surface Bummer had trotted for some distance, followed by the butcher and his friend, who perseveringly trudged through the heavy CH. i. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 17 ground in curious pursuit, when at length he turned a corner of what had perhaps been planned as an attempted street, where some small and abandoned dwellings, only just commenced, had proved the im- possibility of struggling against the natural difficulties of the locality. Into one of these miserable tenements the dog entered, as though quite accustomed to the spot. There were many empty packing-cases and casks that had contained dry goods lying in heaped con- fusion, half choked with sand, which had invaded the little yard of an intended dwelling. Some scaffold poles arose like withered skeletons of trees from the deep accumulation ; and these, which had been in- tended as supports, had been driven by the force of the wind from the perpendicular and inclined against the unfinished wall. The dog had disappeared round a corner of this wretched building, and the next instant the butcher and his friend found themselves in a tolerably pro- tected angle, where Bummer was already seated before a large broken cask without either head or bottom. There was a heap of shavings and some sand and rubbish collected in this cask, upon which a curious mass was lying, which resembled a worn-out and shrivelled door rug. Bummer had deposited his piece of meat before this apparently lifeless object, and, after vainly endeavouring to attract attention by whining, he impatiently scratched it with his fore- paw to awaken it if sleeping. A lean and miserable figure slowly uncurled itself from the dust and shavings in reply to Bummer's C 1 8 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. summons. After a preliminary stretch, it staggered forward and lay down, or rather fell, opposite the piece of flesh, which it licked, but apparently had neither the appetite nor the strength to chew. * Bummer watched these futile efforts with evident anxiety ; and, as though to increase desire on the part of the sick dog, he seized the flesh himself and bit and swallowed a morsel, and then withdrew it to a few feet distance, and, crouching with the tempting bait between his fore-paws, fixed his gaze upon the invalid, and whined in plain dog language " It's very good, and I shall eat it myself if you won't come." By various little enticing ways Bummer endea- voured to excite an appetite in his sick friend, but with little success ; the unfortunate dog munched a very small portion of his offering, and then crept back to its heap of shavings, and once more coiled itself to sleep. Seeing that his patient was obtuse to all attempts upon his part, Bummer entered the cask and, after turning round, and several times scratching and arranging the dusty shavings to his satisfaction, he alo prepared himself for the night's rest by the side of his poor acquaintance. It was getting dusk. " I guess we had better be getting home," said the butcher to his silent companion, who had watched the conduct of the dogs in mute admiration, "or we shall be benighted. Don't talk to me of Christians after this Bummer beats them out of that line altogether. Don't talk to me about charity Bummer wipes all the shine off them in that particular. Don't tell me about Good CH. i. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 19 Samaritans Bummer whacks all that sort, because he sticks to his friend instead of leaving him at an inn with only a penny, and a small credit. Don't preach to me about human beings, for Bummer's gone hungry to bed to save a bit for his friend to-morrow morning, and I never saw a human go so far as that. Don't talk to me about philanthropists, and foundling hospitals, and sisters of charity, and infirmaries, and all that lot; for Bummer's got all them heaped together and packed away under his curly hide he has, and no mistake ! Poor old Bummer, he's a regular Christian through and through, and beats all the parsons, and bishops, and arch- bishops, and popes, and " How long the good-natured butcher would have continued to pour forth his admiration for Bummer it would be difficult to say, had it not been for a sudden interruption from his hitherto silent friend, who now broke into the conversation with the follow- ing remark " I quite agree with all you say, and your dog is a real wonder ; but I don't think his head is equal to his heart, as it strikes me that he has given his share of the meat to his sick friend, but has forgotten to bring water. The poor brute is thirsty, and is too weak to seek far for drink." "Well," exclaimed the butcher, "you've hit the nail on the head this time, and no mistake ! but Bummer hasn't got a utensil, I guess, that will hold water ; so suppose we give him a helping hand ? Here's a house where somebody's at home, for there's a light in the window. Here, missus ! or anybody who may answer ! " and the butcher loudly knocked 20 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. at the closed door. It was quickly opened by a woman, and, the butcher having explained his want, was supplied with an empty can, which had contained about two quarts of tinned provisions. This was clean, and was soon filled with water. It did not take many minutes to retrace their steps, and the butcher and his companion once more stood before the dogs' retreat. At the sight of water the sick dog seemed to gather strength, and it eagerly lapped the half of the contents, while Bummer himself partook of a small share, and the withered-looking dog looked quite refreshed after its long and welcome draught. "You are a miserable specimen, to be sure," exclaimed the butcher, as he stroked the wiry and ill-conditioned coat of the sick dog. " A regular Lazarus you are, indeed : starved and sick, and with no friend in the world except old Bummer. Well, good-night, old dogs ; I shall come and have a look at you to-morrow. I shall call that dog Lazarus," said the butcher to his companion, as they now strolled homewards through the darkening city. " It will be a capital name for him in fact, I think it will be quite an elegant name ; and I shall take up that dog's case, and I calculate in about two months, with good feeding, I shall fix him up so that his maternal parent wouldn't recognise him." CHAPTER II. ON the following morning, as the butcher opened his shop at the usual hour, Bummer, who had been waiting outside, walked in. There was the customary wag of recognition in his tail, but nothing more. The day passed away, during which many customers had been informed by the dog's proud master " that he was the best Christian in San Francisco," and that " no bishops, or archbishops, or popes, or divines /;/ posse could hold a candle to Bummer in the way of charity." When the evening came, the daily portion of flesh allotted to Bummer was increased by the butcher, and the dog, as usual, trotted off; this time accom- panied by the master, with a utensil for water, together with several friends, who wished to be eye-witnesses of facts. Many weeks had passed away. The accounts of Bummer's performances had found their way into the city newspapers, and the dog had become a public character. The butcher's trade flourished, as Bummer had acted as an advertisement that attracted cus- tomers to his shop. It was early upon a summer morning, that upon 22 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. the butcher's first appearance in his shop, two dogs were sitting without. There was a certain confi- dence in the air of one, but a shyness and timidity in the appearance of the other, who was a bony and delicate-looking dog. These were Bummer and his poor acquaintance Lazarus, who, having sufficiently recovered his strength, was now introduced by his guardian to the dogs' paradise of San Francisco the butcher's shop. The butcher was delighted at the appearance of his protegJ, who was at once welcomed to the thresh- old and regaled with a few choice bits, which were instantly swallowed, Bummer meanwhile wagging his tail with lively satisfaction at the successful intro- duction of his friend. It would be tedious to relate the daily life of the two dogs, even if I knew the exact details ; there was a regularity in their proceedings which became well known in San Francisco. Bummer and Lazarus were recognised as citizens of eccentric habits, but harmless in character, and inseparable friends. They never slept at the butcher's shop, and rarely entered the door ; but they were always to be seen, from sun- rise to sunset, either upon the pavement in front, or somewhere in the immediate neighbourhood. They were never known to quarrel, and when the day closed they betook themselves to their old abode in the outskirts of the city, where Lazarus had been first discovered. The stray dogs that frequented the streets appeared to recognise the rights of territory that had been acquired by the occupation of the butcher's front by Bummer and Lazarus, and they CH. ii. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 23 seldom presumed to trespass upon that portion of the thoroughfare. If by chance some strange cur intruded, whose ignorance of the circumstances in- duced him to set foot upon the forbidden ground, and gaze at the contents of the butcher's shop, he was immediately attacked by the two friends ; and, having been tumbled over in the gutter, he was driven ignominiously from the street No citizens of San Francisco were better known, or more generally recognised as inhabitants of the town, than Bummer and Lazarus. Meanwhile the city grew apace. The discoveries of gold had been followed by a vast development of the mining interest, which brought thousands of adventurers to swell the population. Wealth was rapjdly accumulated, and those capitalists who had bought large tracts of land were busily engaged in agricultural enterprise. An extraordinary change was produced in the growth of the city, and for many miles around. Vessels from all portions of the globe sailed and steamed through the Golden Gate, bringing fresh settlers for beautiful California, while San Francisco extended in due proportion, and be- came the splendid capital of the Far West. Municipal improvements had been much needed, as the influx of strangers from distant portions of the world had necessarily assembled many adven- turers of doubtful character. The revolver and bowie knife had become the chief arbiters in dis- putes, and human life throughout California was re- garded as of less value than the horse. That noble 24 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. animal was tacitly admitted as the superior, by the laws which rigidly protected it as property ; to steal a horse entailed the penalty of death, while murder was seldom punished. The Vigilance Committee gave place to a new reform, and a body of police was organised in San Francisco. A code of municipal laws was estab- lished, sanitary arrangements were instituted, and among other necessary changes, all ownerless dogs were prohibited from wandering about the streets. Newly-appointed officials, like new brooms, make a clean sweep, and display a vast amount of energy. The police were instructed to take all dogs into custody that should be found in the thoroughfares of San Francisco without being accompanied by their proprietors. A van had been constructed spe- cially for this purpose. This vehicle was furnished with iron bars to admit ventilation, and to enable street passengers to see the dogs which might have become prisoners being driven to the appointed place of destruction. If any person should recognise his dog as one of the unlucky captives, he could, by paying a fine at the proper office, rescue his animal from death. In a few days after the appearance of this fatal van a strong feeling of repugnance to the new dog- law was manifested by the public. Many people had missed their favourites, whose fate was involved in mystery, although no doubt could be entertained respecting their tragic end. The law was on the side of the police, who, in due proportion to the feel- ing exhibited against them, increased their exertions CH. ii. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 25 with true metropolitan zeal in the capture and mas- sacre of the unhappy victims of the civic authorities. Feelings warmed against the innovation ; the press was excited upon the subject, and the public mind became violently agitated, as the pitiless law threat- ened the interest of every one who possessed a dog. At this time, when the minds of the inhabitants were in a ferment upon the dog difficulty, it happened that our friend the butcher had been engaged in the purchase of cattle some few miles distant from the city, and was returning on horseback through San Francisco upon a fine afternoon, when the rumbling of wheels upon the ill-paved street announced the approach of a vehicle from an adjoining thorough- fare. The horse that drew the van was a broken- kneed creature, who slowly trotted along with a dispirited air, as though oppressed with a guilty con- science ; the driver was a policeman, while upon the afterpart of the cage-like van another policeman acted as conductor. Both these officials were keep- ing a vigilant look-out upon either side, and along the street, for any stray dog that might be wandering about in happy independence and ignorance of muni- cipal regulations perhaps inwardly congratulating itself upon its extreme good fortune in belonging to a country where all were equals, and where liberty of speech and action would permit it to bark, or to bite both dogs and humans, with that true freedom which is the great blessing of American institu- tions. At this moment a peculiar hesitation in the move- ment of the horse, accompanied by a corresponding 26 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. but cautious excitement in the driver, attracted the butcher's attention ; and as the van halted about fifty yards in front, the conductor was seen to alight, and to disappear in a neighbouring street, armed with a peculiar arrangement of a wire noose at the extremity of a pole. The butcher reined up his horse and waited for the result. In less than a minute the conductor reappeared, dragging with him a struggling dog that he had dexterously captured. Resistance was useless ; the iron caged door being opened, the victim was disengaged from the noose, and thrust into the barred van among about twenty equally unfortunate captives that were on the road to execution. "Well, that's a cruel law!" ejaculated the butcher, who, having watched the proceeding with extreme interest, had set his horse in motion with an instinct- ive wish to examine the van more closely. " That's what I call a cruelty to the dog and a robbery upon his owner; and that's what these new-fangled re- forms call justice ! Why, they'll be trying their hand at Bummer next ; but they won't catch him so easily, I know. He's not such a fool as to trust a policeman within reach of his neck. They may get hold of Lazarus, though ; for he's a confiding sort of a creature, and is a real simpleton if Bummer isn't close alongside of him. But confound it!" ex- claimed the butcher suddenly, as a new idea seized him "suppose they do catch Lazarus first? why, Bummer wouldn't leave him ; that he wouldn't. He'd fight for him, I'd bet my last dollar. And then why, they'd be sure to catch Bummer!" CH. ii. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 27 As this horrible thought suggested itself to the butcher, the approaching van drew near, and in a slow jog-trot passed by. He had ample time to survey the numerous occupants, who, unconscious of their fate, were anxiously peering through the open bars of the travelling cage ; while others were lying upon the floor among the crowd of their fellows, all strangers to each other, and as devoid of sympathy as would be an average crowd of human beings, or passengers upon their first arrival on board a ship. A peculiar sharp and loud bark from this unhappy load of dogs startled the butcher. There was a quick succession of barks as two noses were thrust between the bars in joyful recognition. The butcher turned deadly pale. u Bummer, by God ! Lazarus ! Stop ! pull up ! D'ye hear ? Pull up that darned broken- kneed old corpse. Let my dogs out ! You've got hold of Bummer and Lazarus; let'em out, I tell you !" roared the butcher in intense excitement. With true official calmness the driver cast a con- temptuous glance at the butcher, and, giving a smart lash to his insulted horse, he endeavoured to increase his pace. This was too much to be endured ; and the butcher, springing from his saddle, at once ran to the horse's head and seized the bridle, checking the animal by a violent thrust, and at the same time calling upon the driver to stop. The only reply was a sharp cut with the whip across the butcher's face, which was rapidly repeated in successive lashes, each adding to the rage of the exasperated assailant. The butcher was a powerful man, and, heedless of the onslaught of the driver, he threw his whole 28 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. weight and strength against the bit, thus forcing the horse backward, and at the same time twisting it round, he drove the van bodily upon the footway and smashed the conductor through a shop window, amidst a loud crash of glass. There the van remained fixed and helpless, the broken-kneed horse having slipped upon the pavement and fallen upon its side. The butcher had used his opportunity, and, quickly relinquishing his hold, had stormed the van by mounting upon the driving seat, where he had collared the driver with both hands, and, forcing him backwards, he roared out lustily to the rapidly- assembling crowd " They've got Bummer and Lazarus! Bummer and Lazarus! Smash the darned van ! Let the dogs out !" The crowd instantly comprehended the situation. Everybody knew Bummer and Lazarus. The names of the dogs were quickly repeated, and a general attack was made upon the van. In the meanwhile the two objects of the disturbance had kept up an uninterrupted barking, which had excited the numer- ous captives to a similar chorus. The van having been backed against the shop window it became im- possible to open the door ; therefore, in spite of the tumult and the efforts of the mob to liberate the dogs, no means of exit existed so long as the bars resisted. The conductor had escaped into the shop through the broken window ; and the proprietor, who sympathised with the crowd, presently emerged from his door with the much-needed assistance in the form of a large axe and an iron bar. Cheers were at once raised by the excited populace, and the implements cir. ii. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 29 were seized upon, and the van attacked with such determination that in a few minutes the side was completely torn out. The astonished dogs, which shared the enthusiasm of the moment, leaped to the ground, and more than one, carried away by warlike zeal, fixed their teeth in the legs of the struggling liberators. The mob was not easily satisfied, and, as the assault was heightened by the successful smashing and crashing of the vehicle under the heavy blows of the axe, wielded by successive men as their arms grew weary, they were determined to destroy it utterly, and thus at once to get rid of a municipal abomination. The butcher had punched the head of the driver his assailant, to his entire satisfaction ; and, as Bummer and Lazarus leaped about his person in their intense joy at deliverance, he wisely quitted the scene of riot ; and, accompanied by his dogs, re- mounted his horse (which had, with true Californian docility, remained standing on the opposite pave- ment), and rode quietly homeward. This stirring incident in the career of the two dogs created a considerable interest in the press of San Francisco, and Bummer and Lazarus from that moment became recognised objects of respect and sympathy among all classes of the population. The triumphant butcher proudly recounted the history of the dogs to such strangers who upon arrival at San Francisco, made personal inquiries, and many visitors declared that their history should be written by some 30 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. able hand, to combine the story with the early days of the rising city . . . Years passed away, and the inseparable friends continued their fraternal affection unbroken. Bummer was growing gray about the head, but he was other- wise active and strong. Lazarus, on the other hand, although the younger, had always exhibited a delicacy of constitution, and for some time past his appetite had failed, and his once sleek coat had stared, while his ribs could be plainly counted by the eye. He appeared together with Bummer every morning, but, instead of wandering and strolling as formerly about the street, he lay for hours asleep at the butcher's door ; his eyes grew dim and sunken. The dog was ill ; but nevertheless he continued to accompany his friend Bummer to and fro, returning at evening to some distant sleeping - place, well known to the butcher, although the changes in the town had driven the dogs from their old resting-place. One morning when the shop was opened the dogs were missing. In vain the butcher called their names and whistled ; there was no answering bark, neither could a dog be seen. Leaving his wife and a lad to attend the business of his shop, the butcher started off in great perplexity towards the distant spot which the dogs occupied at night, according to their strange natures of inde- pendence. He reached the place where he had for some time past provided a large empty cask with a plentiful supply of straw for his two vagabonds. Bummer was sitting outside the cask, apparently watching the WHAT'S THE MATTER, OLD BOY?' /. 31. CH. ii. BUMMER & HIS POOR ACQUAINTANCE. 31 sleeping dog within, when the butcher arrived, and patted him. " What's the matter, old boy ? " asked his master, as he stroked his neck ; " what's the matter with Lazarus ? very bad, I'm afraid. Here, Lazarus, my boy ; get up, old fellow ! " said the butcher coaxingly, as he reached his hand into the cask, and would have assisted the dog to rise ; but he drew his hand back quickly the body was cold and hard Lazarus was dead ! Some weeks had elapsed since the loss of Bummer's companion ; the butcher had endeavoured to entice his dog away from his old sleeping- place, and had arranged a cask with clean straw in his own backyard; but, in spite of this attrac- tion and every kindness which the good-hearted man exhibited to his favourite, Bummer refused his comfortable lodging, and retired to his accus- tomed spot. Upon several occasions he was seen to carry a piece of meat in his mouth when he left the shop at the approach of evening; the butcher, upon visiting the dog's resting-place, had found the meat untouched on the following morning ; and it seemed as though it had been intended for the sick friend Lazarus, who had been thus fed in early days. Bummer refused his food. The dog was restless ; and, instead of remaining close by the butcher's shop, he wandered about the streets, searching for some- thing lost, which his mind could scarcely understand. Sometimes he would start from his post near the shop door and run quickly across the street to 32 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE i. examine some strange passing dog that somewhat resembled Lazarus, and he would return despondingly upon discovering the hopeless reality. The dog grew lean and gray ; his ribs looked like a frame within his skin. Bummer was broken- hearted ; he grew weak and ill, and the butcher saw that his much -loved dog was pining away for his lost friend ... It was a bright morning in the autumn, and the sun had not long risen, when a man could be seen upon the sandy waste upon the outskirts of San Francisco, working hard as though digging up pota- toes. There was no one near, but a package re- sembling a sack lay upon the ground. There was a small mound close to the spot, and within three feet of this raised landmark the labourer was at work. In about a quarter of an hour he had dug a hole. He then carefully raised the package from the ground and placed it within. He arranged some straw gently upon the bundle, and after a moment of hesitation he proceeded to refill the hole with earth, and formed a mound similar to that which already marked the neighbouring spot. He then rested from his work ; with a desperate plunge dashed his spade into the sandy ground, and, burying his face in his rough hands, he burst into tears. The butcher had buried his dog Bummer by the side of his poor acquaintance Lazarus. THE CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. CHAPTER I. A GREAT change has occurred during the last half century in the rapid strides of science, which have reformed and improved not only our means of loco- motion but also the various methods of illumination in our domestic arrangements. Our lamps are now trimmed with Alexandra oil, with duplex burners emitting the light of twenty or thirty candles, while gas is in general use throughout our passages. These will probably be eclipsed within the next few years by the improvement in the electric light, which will supersede our present burners pre- cisely as we have improved and discarded the fashions of fifty years gone by. In the early portion of the present century our lamps were trimmed with whale oil. Candles were composed of tallow for ordinary use, and snuffers were required to clip from time to time the club- headed wicks which became carbonised as they burned low, causing endless trouble. The best candles were termed wax, and an improvement was effected in plaiting the wicks, which obviated the necessity of snuffing. D 34 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. Spermaceti was largely used in the manufacture of very beautiful semi-transparent candles, which were exceedingly expensive. The whale oil was commonly called " train oil," and emitted a disgusting smell, if the lamp from faulty trimming flickered and smoked. Wealthy persons would not permit such inferior oil within their rooms, but made use of that from the sperm whale, which had a greater brilliancy, and was free from the offensive odour. Sperm oil was also ex- tensively used for lubricating machinery, but in 1825 the price was nine shillings per gallon, more than double the cost of the best colza oil in 1882. The great demand for whale oil and spermaceti was accompanied by the extensive use of whale- bone at a time when the manufacture of steel was a tedious and expensive process. Women's stays, which are now partially supported by steel ribs, were formerly entirely dependent upon strips of whalebone. Umbrellas were invariably composed of whalebone ribs until steel was substituted. As every woman must wear stays, and every person must possess an umbrella, the quantity of whale- bone required in these manufactures was enormous. The unchanging demand for the products of the whale had necessitated a well -organised system of fishing, or rather marine hunting, as the whale cannot properly be termed a fish, and the sailors engaged in this pursuit were exceedingly hardy and dexterous in capturing such monsters by the simple method of harpooning. It must not be supposed that the various pro- CH. i. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 35 ducts of the whale were to be found combined in one species. The whale is represented by numerous varieties inhabiting separate portions of the oceans, and exhibiting special characteristics. The sperm whale possesses a sharp row of large teeth in the lower jaw only, the upper being un- armed, and is a distinct species from that which produces whalebone. This animal or marine mammal attains a length exceeding eighty feet, and its shape is entirely different from all other varieties. The head, terminating almost at a right angle from the snout, is immensely thick, and is about one-third the length of the whole body. The fat or blubber, from which the oil is procured by the process of boiling, is a layer of several inches thick just below the skin, and a full-sized whale will produce thirty or forty barrels ; some of the bulls have been known to yield eighty barrels. The spermaceti is a peculiar substance which is situated in a cavity within the head of the sperm whale ; this is oily, but of a thick semi-fluid nature until the death of the whale, when it quickly granu- lates with exposure. A large whale will produce about one ton of spermaceti. Whales of all varieties exhibit the same natural affinity by producing a single offspring at a birth. Twins are almost more uncommon than among human beings. The mother evinces strong affection for her young, which is suckled by two mammae. These teats are situated in different positions in the very numerous varieties of cetacea ; in the sperm whale they are near the tail. 36 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. The fluke or tail of the whale is horizontal instead of being vertical like those of fishes, and the action is directly up and down. A blow directed against a boat from below will throw it with the crew completely out of the water. This accident is to be guarded against when approaching a whale upon the surface. It has been scientifically determined by Professor Tyndall that the sensor and motor nerves will convey a message to and from the brain at the speed of seventy feet per second. If a whale were eighty feet in length, and a harpoon was fixed somewhere near the tail, a second of time would elapse before the sensor nerves could transmit the message to the brain ; another second would be occupied by the motor nerves in conveying the instinctive order from the brain to start the tail into spasmodic action ; thus two seconds would be in favour of the boat's crew when backing their oars to escape at the instant of throwing the harpoon. As the average of whales would be about thirty-five or forty feet, we may admit that one second would be the usual advantage for the boat, equal to a distance of about eight or ten feet. The blow-hole of the sperm whale is upon the upper extremity of the snout. This peculiar arrange- ment of nature allows the whale to fish by swimming open-mouthed, and when it closes the enormous jaws after a satisfactory haul, it compresses the water with- in its mouth, and drives it with great force through the nasal aperture. As the whale is a mammal and not a fish, the CH. i. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 37 breathing arrangement is peculiar. The sperm whale requires air periodically to fill the lungs, and cannot remain below the surface for a longer interval than about one hour and ten minutes. It then arrives at the surface, and blows off the stale air which it had inhaled as a supply of oxygen for the lungs previ- ous to descending into the depths. This process is peculiar, as it continues steadily for a space of about three minutes, during which a jet is thrown to many feet elevation, as though steam were blown off from a valve. This is the result of the compressed air expelled through the blow-hole mingled with aqueous particles. From the mast-head of a vessel such a jet of spray can be discerned in calm and clear weather from a distance of five or six miles, and the position of the whale is easily discovered. When engaged in this operation the sperm whale can be approached without difficulty, as it appears unsuspicious of dan- ger. The instant that it has expelled the air, it remains upon the surface for ten or twelve minutes, having refilled the lungs by an effort of inspiration, which does not occupy more than two or three seconds ; it is then prepared for another plunge beneath the surface. The sperm whale is gregarious, and when in large shoals will frequently divert itself by plunging and then reappearing upon the surface with such rapidity as to leap its entire length from the water, falling back upon its side with a prodigious splash. Although the gullet of most varieties of whales is so exceedingly small as to prevent the swallowing of any fish larger than mackerel, that of the sperm 38 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. whale is sufficiently large to admit the body of a man. The arrangement of teeth is such as to suggest a different food from the whalebone whale, which subsists chiefly upon jelly-fish, cuttle-fish, and other marine productions of a similar delicate struc- ture. The usual speed of this species is from five or six miles an hour, to ten if wounded or excited. The whalebone whales par excellence are the black -whale (Balcena Mysticetus) and razor-back (B. Physalis), which are found in various portions of the globe, and grow to an immense size, eighty and even eighty-five feet in extreme length being the proportions of the full-grown bulls. The whalebone is a peculiar substance that com- bines the texture of horn with that of agglutinated hair or bristle. This flexible material is arranged in plates of about one foot in depth, and from seven to eleven feet in length, set edgeways transversely upon the roof of the mouth or palate to the number of about 600, i.e. 300 upon either side the longitudinal cavity which covers the tongue ; the long bristly fringe upon the outer edge forms a strainer which captures the molluscs and cuttle-fish, etc., that are entangled in the mouth as in a trawl-net; they are retained by the whalebone arrangement, while the water that has entered together with the living creatures is expelled from the mouth by blowing. The blow-hole of this species is situated on the top of the head instead of being placed upon the snout as in the sperm whale. The absence of teeth is a proof that this species trusts mainly to chance in fishing operations, as it advances open-mouthed rn. i. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 39 through shoals of small fry and medusae, which are separated from the water by the whalebone strainer. The roof of the mouth is divided into two longi- tudinal compartments by a passage which permits the expansion or contraction of the whalebone plates upon either side. These vary in number according to the species of whale, but are generally estimated at about two tons weight in a full-grown specimen. The value of whalebone was from 200 to 300 per ton in 1830, therefore the capture of a large whale was of some importance. Whales are so immensely superior in size to any terrestrial animals, that stories have been circulated with gross exaggerations, as sailors have allowed their imaginations to magnify the real size of many which they have seen, but have not captured. Skeletons exist in various museums from seventy to seventy-five feet in length ; these would have been perhaps ten feet longer from snout to tip of tail when alive, and there can be little doubt that larger creatures exist in the ocean than any specimens that have been brought to Europe. At the same time it must be accepted that the continual hunting for whales has diminished their numbers considerably, and those seas which fifty years ago abounded with these cetacea are now, if not absolutely barren, but seldom frequented by either whales or their hunters. When we consider the vast magnitude and strength of whales, it appears almost impossible that so huge a monster can be killed by man with comparative ease by the simple harpoon and lance. It must, however, be remembered that the whale is a warm- 40 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. blooded animal, and that when struck by the harpoon it dives instantaneously to a profound depth, at which Professor Owen describes the action thus : " The non- valvular structure of the veins in the cetacea, and the pressure of the sea - water at the depths to which they retreat when harpooned, explain the profuse and deadly hemorrhage which follows a wound, which in other mammalia would be by no means fatal." The celebrated physiologist John Hunter de- scribes the heart and the aorta of the spermaceti whale to be prodigious, the aorta measuring a foot in diameter. He continues, " When we consider these as applied to the circulation, and figure to ourselves that probably ten or fifteen gallons of blood are thrown out at one stroke, and moved with im- mense velocity through a tube of a foot diameter, the whole idea fills the mind with wonder." The eyes of whales are protected by movable lids ; their sense of hearing is sufficiently acute although the orifice is exceedingly small, and there is little difference from that of quadrupeds in the internal structure. This short outline of the salient points of the whale will be a sufficient introduction to the story in which we shall be now interested, as it will have explained the peculiarities of the creature which tempted the adventurous daring of the sailor to its capture. An average whale, either rorqual or razor- back, would produce about forty barrels of oil and one ton of whalebone, while a sperm whale would yield the same quantity of oil and about fifteen hundred pounds of spermaceti. The largest - sized CH. i. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 41 whales of either species would nearly double these quantities. I have already stated that at the early portion of the present century the whale was invariably har- pooned by hand, and when exhausted it was killed by the lance. Latterly the system of attack was improved, and the harpoon was fired from a gun specially arranged for the purpose. This method secured the boat's crew from the usual danger, as the shot was fired from a distance of about thirty or forty yards, which allowed both space and time for escape. Of late years a further improvement has been effected, and the whale has been shot with an explo- sive shell charged with strychnine or with cyanide of potassium. This fatal poison was a destructive method of hunting which robbed the chase of all glory and excitement. The Japanese are, I believe, the only people who use nets in the capture of whales. At a certain season the north coasts of Japan are much frequented by cetacea, and the inhabitants of the coast are well prepared for the arrival of shoals within sight of their shores. Boats are specially arranged for this purpose, and are provided with long and deep nets, the meshes of which are about three feet square. A complete organisation exists, and every boat is assigned a certain duty in the hunt. When the whales are first observed from the land, a number of boats push off and form a line according to circum- stances, with the intention of driving the shoal into the shallows towards the shore. Should they succeed 42 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. in frightening the whales and thus driving them into a bay, or among islands or reefs, the nets are fastened together to the length required, and are dropped into the pass through which the whales are expected to escape. The boats then form line behind the whales, and drive them at their best speed through the pre- arranged narrows. When a whale strikes a net, it drives all before it, and quickly buries itself in hope- less entanglement ; it then commences rolling in vain endeavours to escape, which only increase the difficulty, as the huge creature forms a wrapper around its carcase which renders it absolutely help- less. The active Japanese are expert hunters, and should a whale be once within their nets it is quickly attacked with harpoons and spears, and rapidly despatched. CHAPTER II. IN the year 1828 the winter was excessively severe. It was in the cold month of January upon a bois- terous night that a huge fire of pine logs was blaz- ing in a large hall within a comfortable mansion in Middlesex. This hall was the centre of an Eliza- bethan house which belonged to a rich London merchant, one of a class who represented in those days the commercial importance of Great Britain. At the commencement of this century London was not only the centre of commerce as it is at the present time, but the London merchant was well known throughout the world for his strict integrity of character. The manufactures of England were celebrated for their great strength and durability, and the fact declared in any. foreign market that the goods were English was sufficient to ensure con- sideration and respect. At the date of this story England was a slave- owner. The West Indies were in a prosperous con- dition, as the estates producing sugar, coffee, spice, etc., were cultivated by slave labour, which had originally been imported from the West Coast of Africa. It appears strange to us in 1882 that our grandfathers were proprietors of slaves that were 44 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. bought and sold like cattle, as we have completely reformed our views of humanity during the last half century ; but without any other blemish than slave- holding, the character of a West India proprietor was in all respects as humane as that of an average gentleman of modern times. The owner of the residence, who now sat before the cheerful fire in the large hall, was the proprietor of vast estates in Jamaica ; he was at the same time a West India merchant, and large shipowner. His numerous vessels were chiefly employed in transport- ing to England the sugar, rum, coffee, pimento, etc., from the various estates belonging to himself, in addi- tion to the produce of other properties which was consigned to his London firm. Harvey, Graham, and Company were among the leading merchants of the city of London, and Mr. Harvey was now warming himself before the fire sitting in a large arm-chair, his feet stretched out and resting upon the massive fender, while he apparently gazed into the bright blaze, watching the countless sparks which flew from the crackling logs as they shot upwards into the dark chimney. Beyond the light of the large fire there was none, as the candles had not yet been lit ; but the glare of the pine roots illumined the hall sufficiently to afford a tolerable view of the scene. It was a lofty apart- ment : an old oak mantelpiece, richly carved and of very massive proportions, extended to the ceiling, the numerous shelves being covered with specimens of Oriental china ; the walls were ornamented with family portraits of the last century, tapestry panels, CH. ii. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 45 and well-arranged groups of arms, both European and Indian. Old Venetian mirrors brightened the walls in several places, and relieved the heavy effect of curious lacquer cabinets furnished with rare speci- mens of Oriental workmanship, which would have awakened the cupidity of professional collectors. Mr. Harvey poked the fire, and, with that peculiar love of arrangement that every one exhibits in his own home, he took each burning log by the tongs and piled the crackling mass together, producing flames and sparks that yielded an exhibition of miniature fireworks, which delighted a boy of seven years old, who, sprawling upon the thick hearthrug, had been endeavouring to read a book of large type illustrated with coloured engravings. " You had better ring for candles, Arthur/ 1 said the father, "or you will spoil your eyes by the fire- light. What book are you reading so attentively ? " " All about whales," replied the boy, whose large blue eyes glistened with enthusiasm ; " and we've just harpooned one. He has this moment dived, and he's running out the line at a tremendous rate ! he'll come to the surface presently, and then we'll pull after him ; but I can't see to read further, I wish they'd* bring the lights ! This is such a good book, father, and the story is told so that you can actually see everything as though you were there yourself." " Well," replied his father, " you will be able to talk to Captain Hunter when he comes to-night ; now that you have read something about the whale- fishing you will enjoy his stories, as you will under- stand them." 46 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. The lights appeared. A corpulent butler, who had been in the family many years, brought in a tall globe lamp and lighted a number of candles that were in their usual positions in the hall. The sudden illumination exhibited the rich but tasteful character of the furniture and the various details of the paint- ings upon the walls, more especially two large pictures of naval victories gained over the French by the father of Mr. Harvey, who had been an admiral in the Royal Navy. Mr. Harvey was the younger son of a large family, most of whom had distinguished themselves in various professions ; but, as fortune had smiled upon his industrious career, he at the comparatively early age of forty had amassed great wealth, and was one of the leading merchants of London. There was nothing at Oakleigh that was ostenta- tious, although everything connected with the estab- lishment represented wealth and luxury. The house was in excellent taste throughout the library well furnished, while the grand old oaks in the park were known in the reign of Elizabeth as forest monarchs of no mean reputation. The servant had scarcely quitted the hall when the sound of a carriage was heard in the approach, and was almost immediately followed by the loud ring of the front-door bell. " Captain Hunter is there, father ! " exclaimed the excited boy, who hurriedly closed his book ; " at least I hope he is come," and without waiting he ran to the window, and endeavoured to satisfy his curiosity by peering into the darkness : this was doubly mysti- CH. TT. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 47 fied by the steam of the horses which deadened the light of the carriage lamps. The door was quickly opened, and a tall figure entered, muffled in a great fur cloak of foreign make. Mr. Harvey had risen from his chair and advanced to meet him with much cordiality, but the more than ordinary respectful demeanour of the new arrival ex- hibited a deference which contrasted with the frank and genial manner of the host. " Now, Arthur, take Captain Hunter's travelling- cap," said the father. A servant had already assisted in unfastening the heavy cloak, and in a few seconds Captain Hunter stood before the fire warming his chilled limbs after a long journey upon the outside of a stage-coach upon a snowy day. In those days railways did not exist, and people thought little of discomforts to which all classes were subjected alike. The boy instinctively opened his book which he had been reading with so much interest, and, turning to the illustration of a whale, he applied to the new authority immediately. "Will you please tell me whether this picture is correct, and if you think the stories in this book are true ? " With an amused expression, Captain Hunter sat down by his side and glanced at the title of the work. "Don't trouble our friend the moment he has arrived," said the father. "You must excuse him, Captain Hunter, as he has whale upon the brain at the present moment, and he will give you no rest. Arthur," continued Mr. Harvey, " go and tell your 48 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. mother that we should be glad to see her before we dress for dinner, if she is disengaged." The boy started without a moment's delay. " Mr. Harvey," exclaimed the guest as the door closed upon the enthusiastic lad, " you will have to make a sailor of him some day, and he will keep up the family reputation in the navy." " He is a good boy," replied the gratified father, " but perhaps a little too impulsive. He has heard me speak of our projected whaling scheme, and he has at once entered into the project with the feelings of a man ; his mother bought him that volume upon whale fishing, and you will have enough of him before his bed-time, as he will bore you terribly with all sorts of questions." " It is a pity he is not ten years older," said the Captain, "you might have trusted him with me, sir, for a cruise in the Sophia ; it would have done more than a couple of years book-study to make a sailor of him." " Ha ! that is out of the question," said Mr. Harvey ; " but you will have my nephew with you, and I have strong hopes of his success in life ; he is a fine character, and as strong as a young lion ; he was seventeen last birthday, and his whole heart is devoted to the sea. . . . Tell me how the ship is pro- gressing with the outfit? are the new topmasts up?" " Topmasts are up, all standing rigging taut, and the ship can be ready for sea within a week, ex- cepting the stores and whaling outfit," replied the Captain. " Good," said his employer, " you have pushed the ,CH. ii. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 49 work forward very rapidly, and we must now hurry on the completion of stores, etc. Where is Captain Bunce, and how is he behaving ? " " If he continues when at sea as steady as he now is on shore, we shall have no difficulty, sir. I hear that he has abandoned liquor entirely ; if so, he is invaluable as a whaler, as no one knows the seasons or localities for the sperm whale fishing so well as Bunce. If he gives up drink, he will make a fortune for the ship this voyage, but I am always doubtful concerning the reformation of a drunkard; the change for the better is seldom permanent." " I am afraid not," replied Mr. Harvey, " but at any rate we must hope for the best while we take precautions against the worst that can befall us. Bunce will be nominally the captain of the Sophia, as he is so experienced a whaler, but you will repre- sent the firm, and you will be furnished with the necessary authority to interfere and to supersede him in the command of the vessel, should any misconduct be exhibited. Your position will be clearly defined beforehand, and shall be explained to Bunce in your presence. You will act as supercargo on board until some untoward circumstance may compel you to assume the command. I trust this may not be necessary.' 1 At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Harvey together with her son and a very lovely daughter, who appeared to be a few years older. She was a handsome and stately woman of about thirty -five, with a dignified but amiable expression. E So TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. Upon an introduction to Captain Hunter, she asked the usual questions concerning the inclement weather which must have added to the fatigue of his journey, and she quickly turned the conversation to the topic which would be most interesting to her guest. " My son has, I am afraid, been troubling you rather unceremoniously for information before you had time even to warm yourself after your cold drive. I am afraid we must make up our minds that he is to become a sailor, but as they are always welcomed throughout the world, their lot is scarcely to be pitied. You are to sail this month, Captain Hunter, I understand ; this will be a sad parting for Mrs. Hunter." " Indeed, madam, it will be a trial for us both ; a sailor's home knows more sorrow than joy, and I believe we are wrong to marry. When absent we are worried by anxiety, and when we return it is only to part again. I must be contented with the Sophia? " I am Sophia/' replied Mrs. Harvey, laughing ; " the vessel was named after me ; I shall therefore hold you responsible for good management. For- merly she was a French corvette called the Coquette^ we have changed her name to one more respectable." " She is a fine craft, and I shall be proud to com- mand her ; she had a great reputation for speed when in the French navy, and had she not grounded upon a sandbank when chased by an English frigate she would never have changed her name. She is as strong as oak and copper can make her, and if we CH. ii. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 51 succeed in filling her with oil, she will bring home a fortune." At this moment the half-hour bell warned the small party that the dinner-hour was approaching, and Mr. Harvey, leading the way, piloted his guest through the central hall, up the broad staircase and along the gallery, from which the rooms opened upon either side. "The blue room is prepared for you. I don't know your political views ; the election is just over, and, as we are Conservatives, we shall convert you if Liberal by associating you with our own colours." " I am not much of a politician, Mr. Harvey, except when on board my ship ; I understand the ship's politics. A good man to command, a steady man at the helm, and a crew that know their duty and obey. It appears to me that, after all, you can't much improve that simple form of govern- ment." " Very true, my friend ; but your good captain and helmsman are not a representative government ; yours is a mild form of despotism well suited for the sea and for half -civilised communities. I should almost enjoy a despotic government myself on the condition that I was the despot. We are tolerable disciplinarians even here under our own roof. The bell rings at seven for dinner punctually, and we meet in the hall when alone. You and I will talk about the future over a bottle of good old port when the ladies retire." The dinner party was small ; Mrs. Harvey, a very agreeable lady who was governess to the little 52 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. girl, and the sea captain, were the only persons ex- cepting the host. That evening's conversation perfected all the necessary arrangements for the Sophia's approaching voyage. CHAPTER III. A MONTH had elapsed since the evening at Oak- leigh, where Captain Hunter had received detailed instructions from his employer, and a vast amount of work had been accomplished. The Sophia was ready for sea. This vessel was a beautiful model, and about seven hundred tons measurement. She had been recently purchased from the Government, as the navy had been reduced, and no expense had been spared by Messrs. Harvey, Graham, and Company in fitting her for the intended voyage to the South Seas. Her masts and yards had been shortened to enable a smaller crew than the full complement of the Royal Navy to handle her sails, and her rigging had generally been reduced in due propor- tion to a size that was well adapted for a long cruise, where repairs in case of accidents would be difficult. The outfit of a whaler was very costly, as the vessel was supposed to be supplied for three years, or even longer. The Sophia was armed with six guns, long twelve-pounders, in addition to the small arms necessary for her numerous crew ; this was a precaution against attacks from the savage islanders 54 TRUE TALES FOR MV GRANDSONS. TALE n. of the South Sea groups, by whom several vessels had been treacherously overpowered, and their crews not only massacred, but eaten by the cannibals. A very large supply of ammunition was on board, also water, which in those days was stowed in casks instead of the iron tanks of modern times. Rum was an important item, and was taken in large quantities, as it was a useful medium of barter, in addition to the requirements of the crew. Spare sets of sails, ample stores of the best rope, canvas, spars in case of accidents to topgallant-masts, studding- sail booms, royals, etc., planks, nails, pitch, paints, oils, turpentine, oakum, copper sheets, spun -yarn, anchors of all sizes, and the multitudinous articles that are necessary to the outfit of a ship. In addi- tion to the usual list of ship's stores were the special fittings of a whaler. These were upon a large and costly scale, comprising copper boilers for reducing the blubber to oil, a number of whale-boats, a good supply of harpoons, lines, lances, and all the various appliances for the fishery ; lastly, a perfect cargo of staves and iron hoops all ready in bundles, to be set up as barrels when required for oil. The cooper was an important person on a whaler. Captain Bunce was a good specimen of a whaling captain. He was a first-rate seaman, and understood the fishery of the South Seas thoroughly ; he was a short, thick-set man with red hair, and when sober he was a good-natured but exceedingly rough fellow ; unfortunately he was addicted to drink, and when drunk he exhibited a savage disposition. Upon several occasions he had nearly killed those who CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 55 were under his command, and once he narrowly escaped a conviction for manslaughter. It appears strange that a man in Mr. Harvey's position should not have declined the services of such a person ; but Captain Bunce had reformed, and for some time had been a total abstainer. His reputation as a whaling captain was so well established that a vessel was considered to be certain of a full cargo of oil pro- vided he was in command ; therefore it was natural that his employers should regard his past conduct with leniency. The Sophia was a much larger ship than those usually employed in the trade, and her expenses of outfit and prospect of returns were in due proportion to her tonnage ; an experienced whaling captain was therefore prized, and the owners could not be too particular concerning an unblemished character. It had therefore been duly explained to Captain Bunce that his command would depend upon his behaviour, and that Captain Hunter would represent the owners of the vessel, but would not interfere with the management, unless he should consider the conduct of Bunce to be such as required his suspen- sion from duty. In such a case, full powers had been vested in Hunter to supersede him, and to act as he might think proper. This was an awkward position for both parties, but it could not be avoided. Bunce was too valu- able to be lost, and Hunter was so respectable and excellent a captain, that under the new arrangement the ship would be perfectly safe : a voyage of three years included many risks, but, with good manage- 56 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. ment and moderate luck, the Sophia was expected to realise a considerable fortune. The day before sailing was one of quiet after the bustle of the last few weeks. The ship in perfect order, with a picked crew of seventy men, had left the docks, and had dropped down to Gravesend with the tide, where she lay until her captain should come aboard with the necessary clearance from the Custom House and the ship's papers. Captain Hunter had taken leave of Mr. Harvey and his partners, and had hastened to his little house on the outskirts of Greenwich to take a sad and long parting from his much-loved wife and the little infant of only a few months old. " We shall not know each other when I return," he sorrowfully said, as he kissed the child's forehead, while he held it gently in his strong arms. . . . Mrs. Hunter was a handsome woman of about twenty -five. Her large black eyes were filled with tears as she gazed at the white face of a loudly-ticking clock, whose pendulum swung to and fro with the calm unfeeling regularity which neither joy nor misery would dis- turb. The wife took the child from her husband's arms, and laid it sleeping in the cradle ; the next instant she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed bitterly ; he pressed her to his heart, kissed her convulsively as his tears fell upon her uplifted face, and tenderly disengaging himself from her grasp, he muttered, " God bless you, darling," and rushed from his loved home. A boat was pulling swiftly with the strong ebb tide, and* a muffled figure in the stern turned and SHE FLUNG HER ARMS AROUND HIS NECK AND SOBBED BITTERLY./. 56. CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 57 looked back anxiously towards an ivy-covered cottage on the outskirts of the town ; -suddenly he snatched a large red silk handkerchief from the pocket of his greatcoat and waved it wildly above his head. There was a speck of waving white which moved from the upper window of the green-faced cottage : it was the last signal of good-bye from his wife. The boat rowed on. Parting is always a sad hour ; but the one left behind must bear the greater share of sorrow, as she feels the blank of solitude, while the man, although for the moment overpowered, can quickly find relief in the active change of scene around him. Thus Captain Hunter, after ten minutes 1 silence, gave the necessary orders to the rowers, and consigned his handkerchief to the depths of his coat pocket. His heart was nevertheless heavy, and he tried not to think of wife and home, but endeavoured to distract his thoughts by talking to his men, and asking questions upon many topics connected with the ship. The weather was lovely and the wind fair. The Sophia was anchored off Gravesend, and as she came in view, our friend Hunter observed her with admira- tion. She was in perfect trim, her yards were exactly squared, and she looked every inch a man-of-war. The blue Peter was flying at the mast-head. In a few minutes they were alongside. Captain Hunter ran up the rope ladder and was quickly on deck ; the boat in a short time was hoisted up and secured upon the davits. Captain Bunce was aboard ; the ship's clearance all in order ; and nothing re- 58 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. mained but to weigh anchor and make sail with a fair wind and favourable tide. A handsome lad of about eighteen stepped forward, and was warmly greeted by Captain Hunter. "Your kit all safely stowed, Dick?" asked the captain. " Yes, sir, thank you ; I went on board while in the docks ; there was much to do, and I thought I might as well be here as on shore." "That's right, my lad, never leave anything till the last minute, and then most likely forget it. ... We have lovely weather for a start. ... Has the crew been mustered ? are all hands on board ?" " I believe your boat was the last, sir. I heard the Captain say that we were only waiting for Captain Hunter." A slight blush tinged the bronzed features of Hunter, and his compressed lip implied that Captain Bunce might have spared such a remark ; on the other hand, Bunce had imagined that Captain Hunter purposely delayed his arrival on board in order to exhibit the importance of his position. "Well, on board at last, Hunter!" exclaimed Captain Bunce as they met upon the poop. " We have been ready to weigh anchor this half hour, the cable's shortened and we can heave away at once." " Heave away, then ; send down all strangers into their boats and make them cast off or we shall find half a dozen stowaways when we get to sea." The boatswain's whistle piped the shrill com- mand, the trampling of many feet sounded upon deck as the crew manned the windlass, and the CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 59 merry clicking of the pawls in rapid time soon showed that the anchor was tripped and coming home. The numerous provision boats, and such as contained friends of the officers and crew, dropped astern, and no one was left on board the Sophia except her complement, and the pilot who would take her to the Downs. Sail was made without any hitch ; and as the new canvas spread to the smart breeze, the beauti- ful vessel rippled through the water, and with the strong ebb-tide the Sophia hurried down the Thames. The copper shone bright, as the vessel, answering to a puff of wind, heeled slightly upon her port-side ; a point was rounded, and the width of the river be- ing increased more sail was added, and she scudded along with topgallant - sails set, the foam dashing from her bows in creamy waves. ..." Hurrah !" shouted a crowd of holiday-makers upon the deck of a Margate steamer which was returning toward Gravesend, and passed by the beautiful ship within fifty yards to windward; "Hurrah!" they repeated in chorus as the two vessels shot by each other, and the Sophia excited their admiration and delight. . . . They little knew the destiny of that noble ship ; that her keel would never cleave the water of the Thames again !....... . . . Nothing of consequence occurred during the passage through the Downs. The pilot had been dropped ; and a strong breeze and moderate sea enabled the Sophia to make a quick run down channel until the Start light was passed, and last of all the Lizard. The course was now altered, 60 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. and the vessel's head bore direct for the island of Madeira. A trading vessel is never in perfect order until she has been two or three days at sea. The Sophia was now at her best, the decks were as clean as sand and holy -stones could make them, and all brass - work from binnacle to belay ing -pins was as bright as gold. The run to Madeira was made with exceptional rapidity, and having anchored for a couple of days to take in fresh provisions and to fill up water-casks, the vessel once more weighed anchor and continued on her voyage to the Cape of Good Hope. Having sighted the Cape de Verd Islands, she bore away to the south-west and quickly entered the trade-winds. Nothing can be more delightful than sailing in those unchanging currents, where there is no risk of storms, but throughout night and day the wind appears to exert the same pressure upon the canvas. Every sail was set, and the Sophia scudded over the blue sea like a white swan ; the lower studding-sail booms now and then dipped the surface of the waves as the vessel heeled to the port- side and coquetted with their frothy crests, broken by the surge of her bows in ploughing through the water. Good luck attended the voyage ; kind hearts must have offered up prayers at home "for those who travel on the sea," for no ship could have had better fortune : not a single hour of bad weather since she left the Thames ! On she flew, as though the ocean was her playground, and when the line CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 61 was crossed, she slipped along with a light breeze without encountering the delaying calms which so frequently distress the sailor. ... At length the balmy air of the tropics gave place to stronger wind from the west, the sea increased, and as the vessel drew rapidly towards the south the climate became colder. The studding-sails had been taken in, and the royals had disappeared ; the ship now sailed under topgallant-sails ; but these were reefed. Latitude 40 south was reached, and the ship's course had been changed to due east. She had now entered the strong westerly gales which blow con- tinually in the southern hemisphere. The Sophia had quitted the luxurious ocean where the trade -winds scarcely ruffled the waves, and a cloudless sky reflected a sapphire blue upon the surface. She was now running before a strong gale with double-reefed foretopsail, and rolling to an extent that made it almost impossible to stand on deck without holding on to a rope or pin. Never- theless, the wind being dead astern, the good ship flew before it at the rate of thirteen knots, and rushed through the enormous waves which seemed to follow her as though determined upon destruction. Sometimes a perfect mountain of water would over- take the vessel, and its angry crest would curl like a threatening avalanche far above the taffrail as the ship's stern had sunk into the hollow of the last wave ; it appeared certain that ' the overwhelming mass must burst upon the poop and sweep every- thing before it, but the good ship rose like a duck upon the surface, while the monstrous wave, balked 62 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. of its prey, roared forward, breaking into a surf like the river below Niagara. The mighty albatross skimmed the billows with widespread wings, sometimes touching the foaming wake with its beak, as it picked up some morsel of refuse thrown from the ship. These wonderful birds appear to float upon the air, hardly flapping their wings, which by a sail-like movement of trimming to the wind carry them apparently without exertion. The large brown gull or " Cape hen " of sailor's nomenclature, and the speckled gull of the southern hemisphere, were the constant companions of the albatross, and accompanied the ship in her stormy course, sometimes hovering exactly overhead, almost touching the spanker boom, at other times skimming around the vessel as though she were at anchor, then dropping suddenly into the sea astern to snatch some of the steward's sweepings, or the butcher's offal, that had been thrown overboard. In this wild latitude the Sophia made rapid easting, but in a most uncomfortable manner. The decks were never dry. The rolling was so incessant that the cook could not produce a decent dinner. At last the ship reached east longitude 15, and the course was changed to north-east toward Cape Town or Table Bay. The wind was upon her quarter, and although she laboured heavily in the rough sea and occasionally shipped green water, she bowled along at a great speed. At length the sea abated. There was a dense fog. The deep-sea lead was got ready, as the ship luffed up to the wind preparatory to taking soundings. CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 63 The night was dark, and the captain lay the ship to until morning. The dawn showed a gray mist which enveloped the ocean. The sea was smooth, and the wind light. The sun rose and shone red through the white fog; but as the brilliant orb ascended, the mist became thinner, and like fine gauze it appeared to roll upward in thick folds. The surface of the sea was already clear, when the fog bank having lifted to the masthead, suddenly dispersed, and the vessel emerged as from a curtain into pure and unclouded atmosphere. A beautiful picture was disclosed. Table Mountain rose before them as clearly defined as though the sharp outlines had been cut by a knife ; the table-top was covered with the thin coating of dense white mist that is locally known as " the table- cloth." The Lion's rump showed itself distinctly in the form which originally suggested the name, and the distant mountains in continuous ranges exhibited every shade of purple, blue, and gray. The order was at once given, sails trimmed, and the Sophia, with a light but favourable breeze, sailed along the waters of Table Bay. She shortly dropped her anchor op- posite Cape Town ; forty-eight days from the Downs. As land had not been sighted for the last five weeks, all eyes were gladdened by the striking land- scape. In those days Cape Town was of consider- able importance, although very inferior to its present size. A long street, well paved and of ample width, was faced by a canal fringed by a row of trees. A good hotel the George opposite the canal, and a continuation of well-built houses and merchants' 64 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. offices, gave an appearance of solidity to this portion of the town. The lofty mountain rose to a height of 5000 feet exactly at the back of the settlement, and from the sea its face appeared to be quite per- pendicular. The bay was alive with fishing -boats and vessels of all descriptions. An English man-of- war lay at anchor, and several large Indiamen belong- ing to the East India Company; one of which, deeply laden with a rich cargo of tea and silk from China, was about to weigh anchor on her return voyage. The Sophia, having anchored within half a mile of the shore, was quickly surrounded with boats and their clamorous native crews, some of whom offered vegetables, others fish and the various productions of the place for sale. All these natives wore enormous hats of about twenty-six inches diameter, which gave them the appearance of gigantic mushrooms. One boat was full of large crayfish, which were to be found in great quantities within the bay, and could be purchased at a very low price compared to that of England. Ostrich feathers, cured skins of animals, weapons of native tribes, whips of hippopotamus hide, and a variety of curiosities, were brought on board by an energetic dealer, and the sailors quickly dis- covered an opportunity for wasting money. Shortly after the anchor was dropped, the quaran- tine officer's boat was seen approaching, accompanied by the agent of Harvey, Graham, and Company, who had made out the signal of the Sophia. A clean bill of health having been declared, Captain Hunter, accompanied by Captain Bunce, went ashore together with the agent of the London firm. en. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 65 Cape Town was well known to both these officers; it was the usual resort of whalers, and they now hoped to obtain information concerning the presence of whales about the Agulhas bank, from vessels which had been fishing in that direction. The day was occupied in business. The Sophia had brought a small amount of cargo to be delivered at Cape Town ; this would require two or three days to discharge, and the ship would probably remain a week before she sailed upon her fishing voyage. The two captains divided the work, Hunter occu- pied himself with the business transactions, while Bunce devoted his inquiries to the whereabouts of whales, and collected the necessary information from vessels which, engaged in the fishery, were now an- chored in the harbour. The young lad who was accosted as " Dick " at the commencement of the voyage from Gravesend, was a nephew of Mrs. Harvey's, Richard Downe, who had been apprenticed to a vessel in the East India trade, and at the expiration of his term had now been appointed third mate of the Sophia, with the intention that he should gain experience in the whale fishery and ultimately take the command of one of Harvey and Graham's vessels. In those days every merchant ship was compelled by law to take a certain number of apprentices in proportion to her tonnage, who were to be instructed in seamanship by the cap- tain. It is to be regretted that such a law no longer exists, as it resulted in the production of a fine body of seamen who had been thoroughly trained in their duties from an early age. Mr. Harvey was an emi- F 66 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. nently practical man, and, although such an appren- ticeship was unusual for the sons of gentlemen, he wished that his nephew should become a thorough sailor, and commence with the hardships that attend a service " before the mast." Richard Downe, or " Dick," had passed through this rough ordeal, and at the age of eighteen was equal to most sailors of five-and-twenty ; he was of medium height, powerful, and active. Notwithstanding the rude associations of the forecastle, he was devoid of all coarseness of manner and had remained a gentleman, hard-handed certainly, but otherwise his exterior would not have denoted the rough life of the past three years. As Dick was a genial character and full of daring, he was a general favourite both with officers and crew ; he was withal so steady and attentive to his duties that he was especially regarded by Captain Hunter, who had promised his employer to keep an eye upon him. On the day before the departure of the Sophia from Cape Town, all the work of the ship having been concluded, leave was granted to a certain number of the officers and men to go ashore. Captain Bunce had been in high spirits during his short stay at the Cape, as he had met some old friends in the whaling trade, to whom he had confided the great change that had taken place in his own habits, as he had dis- covered that water, and such mild infusions as tea and coffee, were far more beneficial than stronger drinks. He had endeavoured to make converts of his old acquaintances, and had actually attended a' teetotal meeting in the town. In public Bunce was CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 67 a total abstainer, but in private he never drank tea without a strong admixture of rum. The morning previous to the day fixed for the departure, Captain Bunce, with some chosen friends, started for Constantia in a light waggon and four horses, and drove about fourteen miles to the vine- yard of a well-known wine-grower. It was a sandy road through low scrub, at the base of an abrupt range of hills upon the right. The day was hot and the dust intolerable. The party arrived thirsty. It was the custom in those days to entertain strangers with much hospitality should they make excursions from Cape Town, and Bunce and his friends having driven up to a large house in the centre of well-kept grounds, were immediately invited by the Dutch proprietor to stay for luncheon, and to visit the cellars where the celebrated Constantia wine was stored. The change to a cool cellar from the burning sun and dust was most agreeable, and, as an exception to his rule, Captain Bunce was obliged to taste the various wines that were produced upon the estate of his host. There was Constantia fifty years old, but still sweet and heady. A white wine, known as " Cape sherry/' was also tasted ; but an immense butt of champagne was declared by the visitors to be superior to any wine they had hitherto seen, and they lingered a considerable time in the neighbour- hood of the mighty cask, drinking repeated glasses of the sparkling tempter. A fine quality of cognac was distilled from this wine, known as "champagne brandy," and it was 68 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. necessary to test the flavour before quitting the sub- terranean vault for the luncheon which had been prepared in a broad verandah above. Bunce and his friends having washed their faces and got rid of the dust upon their clothes, were de- lighted to find that the ladies of the house intended to be present, and in a short time they were seated at the table with the host, his wife, and two grown- up daughters. The lunch was excellent, the wine cool, and the party in high spirits ; in fact, it was the brightest day that they had enjoyed since leaving England. Bunce had already fallen in love with the eldest daughter, and after luncheon he resolved to express his affection, but unfortunately his speech was thick, and the young lady, whose knowledge of English was limited, could not understand his meaning, and thought that he wished his waggon to be brought round. The family were well accustomed to similar visits from ship captains and their passengers, whose eccentricities were pardoned as they frequently gave orders for casks of wine, which increased the profits of the estate. The waggon was announced. It was four o'clock, and they would have a cool drive to .Cape Town. The party took an affectionate farewell of their host and his family, and were profuse in their ex- pressions of gratitude, declaring their intention of coming again upon their next visit to South Africa. Captain Bunce had determined to kiss the young lady's hand, which he tenderly grasped as he said good-bye, but as she withdrew it quickly, he kissed CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 69 his own knuckles instead without having discovered his loss, and was assisted by his friends to mount the waggon, upon which he announced his intention of driving. In plain English, the party were all excessively drunk, including the half-caste driver, who had been regaling himself with the servants. Captain Bunce endeavoured to crack the long whip as preliminary to starting, but cut one of his friends across the face and entangled the lash in the wheel just as the horses galloped forward. The whip was quickly twisted out of his hand, his hat was lost, and the team with their heads towards home dashed off at full speed. . . . Early on the following morning a party of dis- comfited excursionists walked into Cape Town to the George Hotel. Captain Bunce had a black eye and was much scratched, and every face bore traces of rough treatment They had come into collision with an ox-waggon while at full speed on the previous evening, their vehicle was upset, and fortunately the sandy nature of the soil had saved them from broken bones. The horses had kicked themselves free from harness and had galloped off somewhere, but they could not be found. Bunce and his friends had been too drunk to follow them, but in a vain attempt had lost themselves in the jungle; they could not recollect any incident beyond the upset, as they had fallen asleep upon the ground, where they passed the night until near sunrise. Hunter and all officers and crew were on board, and the Sophia ready to weigh anchor, when Captain 70 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. Bunce appeared in a most unsatisfactory condition. The ship made sail. Information had been obtained from a South Sea whaler that she had rilled up with oil by a successful fishery on the Agulhas bank, and the Sophia was accordingly bound for the reported fishing grounds. Nothing of importance occurred during the first few days, but the experience of a week at Cape Town had evidently changed the demeanour of Captain Bunce, who had become by turns excitable and morose. There was no doubt that having once broken down the hypocritical pretence of abstention, he had returned to his original habit of spirit-drink- ing, which Captain Hunter had observed with con- siderable anxiety. The Sophia had been favoured with fair wind and weather and was cruising about a hundred miles east of Cape Agulhas. For the first time during her voyage from England she was looking out for whales and was fully prepared for fishing. It was customary for whalers to be manned with an additional number compared with the usual complement of trading- vessels, and a ship of 350 or 400 tons would be furnished with a crew of fifty men. The Sophia, being much larger than the average, had seventy men ; these were divided into three watches, contain- ing a complete proportion of harpooners, boat- steerers, etc., and the nine whale-boats were appor- tioned to separate crews, who were responsible for their good condition. Each boat was provided with six whale lines of 120 fathoms, which, when joined together, would equal 1452 yards, or more than CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 71 three-quarters of a mile in length. Also a number of harpoons, lances, spare oars, in addition to the usual equipment of flags for signalling, and axes to cut the line in case of entanglement. One of the dangers of the whale fishery is the risk of such an accident, by which many lives have been lost. When a whale is struck, it at once dives to an immense depth, and runs out the line of the harpoon at the rate of nine or ten miles an hour ; this is arranged to run over the bow of the boat to avoid the chance of a capsize, and a man stands by with a sharp axe to cut the line instantly should it foul or catch any portion of the boat, which would in that case be dragged beneath the surface. Captain Scoresby relates a sad fatality that befell one of his crew during a hunt for whales. He writes : " As soon as the missing boats came within hail, my anxiety induced me to call out and inquire what had happened. 'A bad misfortune indeed/ replied the officer commanding the first boat. ' We have lost Carr /' . . . This awful intelligence, for which we were altogether unprepared, shocked me exceed- ingly ; and it was sometime before I was able to inquire into the particulars of the accident which had deprived us of one of our shipmates. As far as could be collected from the confused accounts of the crew of the boat of which he went out in charge, the circumstances were as follows : The two boats that had been so long absent had on the outset separated from their companions ; and allured by the chase of a whale and the fineness of the weather, they pro- ceeded until they were far out of sight of the ship. 72 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. The whale they pursued led them into a vast shoal of the species : they were indeed so numerous that their * blowing ' was incessant ; and they believed they could not have seen less than a hundred. " Fearful of alarming them without striking any, they remained for some time motionless, waiting for a favourable opportunity to commence an attack. "One of them at length arose so near the boat of which William Carr was harpooner that he ventured to pull towards it, though it was meeting him, and afforded but an indifferent chance of suc- cess. He, however, fatally for himself, succeeded in harpooning it. The boat and fish passing each other with great rapidity after the stroke, the line was jerked out of its place, and instead of * running ' over the stem, was thrown over the gunwale ; its pressure in this unfavourable position so careened the boat that the side sank below the water and it began to fill. In this emergency the harpooner, who was a fine active fellow, seized the bight of the line and attempted to relieve the boat by restoring it to its place, but by some singular circumstance which could not be accounted for a turn of the line flew over his arm, in an instant dragging him overboard and plunged him under water, to rise no more. " So sudden was the accident that only one man, who had his eye upon him at the time, was aware of what had happened ; so that when the boat righted, which it immediately did, though half full of water, they all at once, on looking round at an exclamation from the man who had seen him launched overboard, inquired what had got Carr? It is scarcely possible CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 73 to imagine a death more awfully sudden and unex- pected. "The velocity of the whale on its first descent is usually (as I have proved by experiment) about eight or nine miles per hour or 13 to 15 feet per second. Now, as this unfortunate man was occupied in adjusting the line at the very water's edge, when it must have been perfectly tight in consequence of the obstruction to its running out of the boat, the interval between the fastening of the line about him and his disappearance could not have exceeded the third part of a second of time ; for in one second only he must have been dragged to the depth of ten or twelve feet ! The accident, indeed, was so instan- taneous that he had not time for the least exclama- tion ; and the person who witnessed his extraordinary removal observed that it was so exceedingly quick that although his eye was upon him at the instant, he could scarcely distinguish the object as it dis- appeared. " As soon as the boat's crew recovered from their consternation they applied themselves to the needful attention which the lines required. From the accom- panying boat, on the rising of the fish to the surface, a second harpoon was struck, and some lances applied ; but the melancholy event that had occurred had cast such a damp upon all the men employed in this business that they became timid, cautious, and inactive in their subsequent duties. The whale, when nearly exhausted, was in consequence of this allowed to remain for some minutes unmolested on the water, until, having recovered some degree of 74 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE 11. energy, it made a violent effort and disengaged itself from both of the harpoons. "Our exertions thus proved altogether fruitless, and were attended with serious loss. . . . Some near approaches were made by our different har- pooners and one of the fish was struck, but after withdrawing about 300 fathoms of line, the harpoon retracted, and the prey escaped. We still kept the boats upon the watch ; and towards evening another whale was harpooned in a manner that proved effectual. It took 960 fathoms of line from the 'fast-boat/ and was re-struck and killed after an interval of about three hours. It proved a valuable prize, being estimated to yield at least twenty tons of oil and a ton weight of whalebone. The longest lamina of whalebone measured eleven feet three inches." It was not long before the Sophia entered upon her promised hunting-grounds. During a calm night the sound of " blowing " had been heard in various directions, and at sunrise upon the following morn- ing the ship found herself in water of a light-green colour which suggested shallows. The deep-sea lead was at once hove, and the soundings gave a depth of 670 fathoms. The peculiar colour of the sea was occasioned by the presence of innumerable living organisms which form the favourite food for whales, and there could be no doubt of their presence as their repeated blowings had been heard during the night. The boats' crews were in readiness, and a bright look-out was kept from the mast-head. Suddenly CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 75 the joyful cry of "A fall ! a fall !" directed the atten- tion of all hands to a jet of steam about a mile distant upon the starboard bow ; this was quickly followed by several other jets in various positions, and from the continuous issue of watery vapour without a break there was no doubt of the character of the species it was a large shoal of sperm- whales. Six boats were lowered without a moment's delay, and hardly had the last boat pushed off from the ship's side when an enormous head protruded from the water, almost touching the copper below the quarter, and blew a dense mass of watery spray high in air, which fell upon the poop-deck. The next instant the whale, which must have mistaken the bottom of the vessel for one of its own species, inverted itself suddenly and dived perpendicularly, its enormous tail flourishing in the air as it de- scended. This was a startling challenge to the boats that had only just been launched in pursuit, and for about a minute the crews rested upon their oars and anxiously watched the surface. They had not to wait long before one of those peculiar scenes was presented which, although perhaps of frequent occur- rence in the gambols of the sperm-whale, are seldom witnessed by human beings. The sea was in good order for whale-fishing, as the surface, without being calm, was unbroken by the crests of waves, therefore any disturbance upon the water could be immediately detected. Without any previous warning, except the sudden appearance of the whale's head just described, an immense sperm-whale shot upwards from the sur- 76 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. face with an extraordinary velocity, which carried it high into the air, so that the tail appeared to be quite ten or twelve feet clear of the water. This was within 300 yards of the vessel, and from the great size of the monster, the distance was apparently less than this computation. So great was the exertion, and so unwieldy was the carcase when in mid-air, that the whale had no power to turn head foremost in its descent, but fell flat upon its side upon the smooth surface of the water, raising an extraordinary commotion, and creating a splash that might have been heard at the distance of a couple of miles. 1 The crews of the Sophia's boats were experienced whale-fishers ; otherwise they might have been some- what daunted by the lively demonstrations that had just been exhibited. It was impossible to determine whether the whale that had just leaped like a salmon from the water was the same creature that had suddenly emerged from under the ship's bottom ; perhaps it was startled at the unexpected appear- ance of the vessel, and may have reappeared in a spasmodic gambol. The boats did not wait long to consider, but pulled off at a steady stroke towards a continuous puff of steam about half a mile distant, while the ship backed her fore -topsail and waited for the event. Young Richard Downe was inexperienced in whale- fishing although an excellent sailor ; he had therefore 1 This I myself saw when on board the ship Larking oft Cape Agulhas in 1844. (ii. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 77 obtained permission to assist as an extra hand in one of the boats now leading the attack. As the sea was favourable and the wind light, the boats rose and fell to the long swell, and made rapid way toward the blowing whale. They had not proceeded far, however, when another jet of spray shot up from the surface about a quarter of a mile upon their left, and three boats went off in that direction, thus equally dividing the flotilla. Whales were in great numbers, and it was impossible to know when or in what direction they might sud- denly appear. In a short time the leading boat was within a hundred yards of the whale, which, having ceased blowing, was floating with a small portion of its back above the surface, apparently unconscious of the ap- proach of an enemy. The swell was sufficient to conceal both the approaching boat and the whale alternately, thus rendering the conditions of attack most favourable. The crew, at a signal from the steersman, rowed cautiously, and just dipped their oars noiselessly in the water. The harpooner stood up in the bow and slowly raised his arm. He was a powerful man with broad muscular shoulders, and his uplifted hand grasped the harpoon firmly and prepared for a deadly cast. The boat was now within fifteen yards of the whale's back ; it was evidently one of the largest size. One steady, long, but quiet stroke had given the boat sufficient momentum to complete the ap- proach, and she glided noiselessly but swiftly through the water, while the crew rested on their oars ready 78 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. to back water immediately upon the order being given, when the harpooner should have delivered his harpoon. Every breath was held ; the whale's back was not more than ten feet distant, when the weapon flew from the harpooner's hand just as the whale, having discerned the enemy, gave a convulsive plunge down- wards. " Back water, all ! " shouted the steersman, but hardly had the oars obeyed the command, when a tremendous blow from the whale's tail struck it from beneath, and the next instant the boat with its entire crew was dashed completely out of the water and fell half inverted, split from end to end ; while oars, lines, harpoons, lances, and all the numerous appli- ances were scattered here and there, together with the men, some of whom were swimming, while others clung for safety to their oars. Young Richard Downe was a good swimmer, and he had caught a sinking sailor by the hair, to whom he gave an oar for sup- port, until the nearest boat, which was almost im- mediately at the spot, came to the rescue. The third boat had lost no time in pulling with all the might of her powerful and excited crew in the direction which it was supposed the whale had taken, while the boat which had picked up the disabled crew immediately hoisted the flag as a signal that a whale was " fast." The addition of eight men ham- pered the action of the boat, but some sat down in the bottom, while others assisted at the oars as they best could, and endeavoured to save all the floating ctibris of their damaged boat, which was bottom 1 w en. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 79 uppermost This was quickly effected, and they were considering whether they should right the inverted boat and take it in tow, or whether they should join in the pursuit with the advanced boats, and after- wards return to save their wreck, when it suddenly disappeared with a jerk, and was seen no more ! The whale had been travelling during the last few minutes at a furious rate, and the line, which had remained within the boat, had run out to a great length until it became entangled in the thwart ; the boat was at once dragged beneath the surface. This was a satisfactory proof that the harpoon was holding fast, and accordingly the double crew of the boat exerted every effort to continue the chase. The leading boat was now a quarter of a mile ahead, and it was expected that the whale would quickly reappear, as the resistance of the water to the sunken boat that was now dragging would cause great exhaustion. Upon looking toward the advanced boat they perceived an alteration in its course, and almost im- mediately after they observed the spouting of a whale upon the right, toward which the boat was steering. The accident having been descried from the Sophia, another boat had been immediately lowered, which was hurrying to their assistance. The chase was now at its height, and the excite- ment was intense. It was impossible for the boat with fifteen men to arrive in time to assist in strik- ing the whale, toward which the advanced boat was hurrying, but they might still be of service. In the meantime the leading boat had arrived within har- So TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. pooning distance ; presently her flag was hoisted, which announced a successful cast ; the whale had once more dived, having two harpoons fixed. The direction of the whale was uncertain, as it had plumbed the instant that it had received the last harpoon. The " fast-boat " accordingly waited in the hope of descrying that peculiar oily streak upon the surface which denotes the track of a whale, resem- bling the wake of a vessel in calm weather. In the meantime the crowded boat's crew were pulling hard to close with their more fortunate com- panions. Suddenly they observed the wreck of their own boat floating at a couple of hundred yards' dis- tance ; steering towards it, they shortly arrived, and felt beneath it with a boat-hook to discover whether the line was still fast, or had become detached. . . . The line was there ; but it was supposed that either the harpoon had retracted, or that the whale had in some manner broken loose. The experienced har- pooner at once made fast another line before he cut the entangled end adrift from the wrecked boat. Fortunately he had taken this precaution, for almost at the same moment the line became tight, and com- menced running out at the rate of about six miles an hour. There was no longer any doubt that the whale was still fast, but its first impulsive rush had been expended, and it was now travelling at a slower rate. They signalled to the other boat, which im- mediately pulled towards them, and shortly arrived within speaking distance. The whale was plumbing steadily into a profound depth. A third line was made fast, and the enormous creature seemed to sink CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 81 like a leaden plummet, as though determined upon reaching the deepest bottom of the ocean. By this time the extra boat had arrived from the Sophia, and the crew were ordered to pull far ahead in a direction where it was expected that the whale might emerge when it should once more be forced to seek the surface. The line ceased to run, and for a few minutes an inexperienced person would have imagined that nothing alive could be attached. Pre- sently it again moved, but slowly, and at a distance of about half a mile a long greasy lane or track was plainly discernible. Upon this track the foremost boat was pulling at best speed, the harpooner stand- ing in the bow in expectation of a rise. At once the " fast-boats " began to coil in slack line as they pulled towards the leading boat. A jet of spray suddenly burst from the sea only a few yards ahead ; almost at the same instant the harpoon was dexterously thrown, and once more the whale was struck and forced to dive before it had inhaled a sufficient volume of fresh air. The boats now closed together and followed cau- tiously in the direction which the whale had taken. The line was run out to its extreme length, and another had been added ; this also was insufficient, and a third had been made fast, when, after about twenty minutes' interval, the whale rose once more upon the surface and emitted a long jet of spray tinged with blood. The boats now shot swiftly forward, the men straining every nerve in the exciting race, as the whale was evidently exhausted, and they hoped to G 82 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. arrive sufficiently near to attack it with the lances. The boat that had been despatched from the Sophia was the first to reach the spot, but just as the har- pooner prepared to deliver his cast, the whale once more headed downward, and the broad fluked tail dashed the water into the air and descended upon the surface with a smack that narrowly missed the boat, which had fortunately backed water and escaped by only a few feet. The sea around was tinged with blood, and the bleeding would be increased at the depth to which the whale had plumbed, owing to the greater pressure of the water. The exhausted creature did not appear to be travelling forward, but had merely dived vertically to an enormous depth as though seeking for safety below from its enemies upon the surface. Upward of 400 fathoms of line were hanging almost perpen- dicularly as though the deep-sea lead was suspended at the bottom. . . . Half an hour had passed, and no movement had been perceptible in the lines, which were now hauled taut, as it was supposed that the whale had died in the profound depth to which it had retreated. The crews of each boat hauled away upon the lines until the bows of their boats dipped low upon the water, but no movement responded to the strain, and it seemed as though they were fast to a mass of rock. Suddenly the lines slackened at the same moment, and in a few minutes an immense whale emerged from the sea about two hundred yards in advance ; after blowing the usual jet of spray, it com- menced the most violent lashings with the tail, driving CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 83 the water into foam, and creating a series of loud reports that could be heard at a great distance. The boats now pushed ahead and quickly reached the whale, which still convulsively thrashed the water in a manner that rendered an approach exceedingly dangerous. Another harpoon was thrown, and em- bedded its barbed head more than a foot deep in the yielding blubber, but this time the exhausted monster remained upon the surface instead of taking the usual plunge. The boats now attacked upon either side, and, keeping just behind the head, and well forward of the dangerous tail, which was spasmodically thrash- ing the water into breaking waves, the crew drove their long lances deep into the vitals of the vanquished sperm, and repeated their thrusts until the action of the tail became fainter by degrees. At length all was still ; the whale was dead. The Sophia was observed to be bearing down toward the spot under easy sail. In the meantime the boats were engaged in making a rope fast just above the tail in order to secure their prize to the vessel upon her arrival. It was a splendid specimen of a bull sperm-whale, measuring about seventy-two feet in length, and the hunt had lasted upward of four hours from the time when the first harpoon was fixed until the death. The boats, having made fast, now formed a line, and towed the floating carcase toward the approach- ing vessel, which shortly bore up to the wind and hove-to. The operation of " flensing " or cutting off the blubber was immediately commenced when the 84 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. whale had been secured alongside ; at the same time an aperture was made in the head, and the sperma- ceti was scooped out and hoisted up the ship's side in buckets, to the amount of rather more than a ton. This was carefully stowed in barrels. A sperm- whale exhibits a peculiar appearance when dead, as the huge head seems disproportioned to the body, of which it forms a third part of the total length. This whale was in excellent condition, and was covered with blubber or fat beneath the skin to a depth of about nine inches. Although the operation of strip- ping the blubber or " flensing " would appear labori- ous, it was rapidly effected by peculiar sharp instru- ments specially constructed for the purpose. The fat, together with the skin, was cut into long strips like flitches of bacon, these were whipped up and deposited upon the deck. As this was the first whale of the voyage and a good specimen, the jaw- bones were carefully extracted and hoisted on board to be presented upon the return home as an archway for a summer-house in Mr. Harvey's garden. For several days the Sophia's decks were in a greasy state, as all hands were employed in cutting the blubber into small pieces to boil down for oil of which nearly thirty tons were secured and safely stqwed at the bottom of the hold. A whale of this size would weigh about no tons. Captain Scoresby in 1822 computed the weight of whales with great accuracy by measurement of their cubic contents. The specific gravity of a whale is almost exactly that of water, as the carcase immedi- ately after death floats upon a level with the surface ; CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 85 it is therefore a simple calculation of the measure- ment of water displaced, which is equal to the weight of the whale. The value of the day's capture would be about &oo, and it was to be regretted that the same good fortune had not attended the other divi- sion of boats which had harpooned two fish and lost them both, together with several lines. One of these fish had plumbed to such an enormous depth that the length of line was expended, the other had escaped owing to the retraction of the harpoon. It is by no means uncommon for a large whale to plunge headlong into a prodigious depth where the weight of the water would be too great for the strength of any other creature. As the specific gravity of the whale is the same as water, it can readily be understood that the powerful tail, being fixed horizontally, would enable a descent or ascent extremely rapid. Captain Scoresby calculated that whales of large size frequently descended to depths where the pressure of water would equal the weight of 200,000 tons. He adds, " It may assist our comprehension of the enormous load that the whale endures when it descends to a depth of 800 fathoms, which it is often known to do, to be informed that the pressure of water at this depth on the body of a whale must sometimes exceed the weight of sixty of the largest ships of the British navy. . . This pressure is sufficient to force the water through the pores of the hardest wood ; yet it is effectually resisted by the skin of the whale though it is re- markably soft and flexible." A few days after this capture, the Sophia was 86 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. cruising 'within seventy or eighty miles of the spot where the large shoal had been discovered, in the hope of again meeting the whales which had appa- rently been scared by those which had escaped wounded. The weather was exceedingly favour- able, as the sea was sufficiently broken to render the approach of a boat possible without being ob- served until it should be close to the whale ; at the same time it was not absolutely rough. . . . Toward midday the sun became exceedingly hot and a haze covered the surface of the ocean, which, although dense to the view of those on deck, was not a thicker stratum than about thirty feet, and could be looked down upon by the man at the mast-head, who at that height remained in a perfectly clear atmosphere. The ship was under easy canvas, and was making a little above six knots, when the sound of " blowing " was distinctly heard at no great distance, and was reported by the look-out to arise in several directions. This was most tantalising. As it was impossible to distinguish any object beyond a hundred yards from the vessel, she was accordingly brought head to wind, and topsails laid aback, in order to keep in a con- venient position should the fog suddenly clear. In the meantime the boats were prepared so as to be ready for immediate action should the fog disperse. The atmospherical changes are extremely inter- esting at sea when a cross current of air interferes to dispel a surface fog. The mist, which had settled upon the ocean like a snowy cloud, gradually resolved itself into curling masses, which rolled forward in heaps of vapour, and, ascending rapidly in wreaths, en. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 87 vanished into thin air and disappeared entirely from the neighbourhood of the vessel, although fog-banks equally dense could be perceived a few miles distant. There is a strange feeling of relief when bright sun- light and blue sky have suddenly dispelled a heavy fog. The ship now lay upon a clear surface, and at the command of the captain, six boats were at once lowered with their crews complete to be in readiness for the appearance of a whale. They had not long to wait before a cry from the mast-head directed their attention to two jets of spray rising steadily in the west about a mile distant ; all the boats immediately dashed fonvard. Young Richard Downe steered the leading boat, closely followed by the remaining five, as it was arranged that they should keep together until they should be tolerably sure of the number and positions of the whales. This was a necessary precaution, as they had not rowed more than half a mile from the ship when they were startled by the sudden appear- ance of a monstrous head, which immediately emitted a long blast of spray within a few yards of the line of boats. With great dexterity a harpoon was thrown and the whale fixed just as it had commenced its downward movement at the unexpected sight of the boats' crews. The flag was at once hoisted from the fast-boat, and two others pulled forward at their best stroke in the direction which the whale was supposed to have taken. In the meantime the remaining boats directed their course toward the whales which had been first observed. These were lying upon the surface with 88 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. a portion of their backs exposed. The weather was exceedingly favourable, and the boats approached so close that both whales were successfully harpooned ; thus three flags were flying from the six boats, and two whales were running line from a division of only three. The two flags being observed from those three boats which were pursuing the first whale, no time was lost in despatching one to their assistance, and the hunt was reinforced thus dividing the chase into four boats with two whales fast, and two others that were following the whale first harpooned. After a hunt of about three hours both whales were killed by the four boats, and the Sophia bore down to within easy distance. The two boats had followed the first whale, and had fixed a second harpoon, as both flags could be discerned ; but they were about three miles distant from the ship, and the whale was still running. Two more boats had been lowered from the vessel, and all assisted to tow the captured whales alongside, where they were hardly secured when the fog, which had hung upon the surface about the horizon, once more rolled forward and completely enveloped the Sophia. All hands were quickly at work, as the two dead whales were fifty or sixty feet in length and afforded occupation for the remainder of the day ; but the absence of the two boats with the third whale at a great distance from the ship caused considerable anxiety during so dense a fog. A gun was fired from the Sophia to give them the direction. The fog had settled heavily upon the sea, and CH. in. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 89 although it did not interfere with the operations of flensing the whales and securing their spermaceti, there was an extreme danger of the missing boats mistaking the direction of the ship, especially if they determined to stick to their whale instead of return- ing toward the signals of the guns, which had been firing .at regular intervals of fifteen minutes. The boatswain's whistle had been constantly sounded ; the ship's bell had been tolled ; and as hour after hour passed by without any sign of the boats, the anxiety became alarming. This increased at the approach of night. The fog still remained thick, and the wind fell to a dead calm. CHAPTER IV. THE morning broke thick and hazy after a night of dead calm and fog, during which the Sophia had fired guns and sent up rockets as signals, that might perhaps be distinguished should the missing boats be somewhere beyond the influence of the mist. The whole of that day passed away in vain hope. Another night arrived. The sails were wet with clammy vapour, and, in the absence of wind, they lay heavily against the masts. The greatest anxiety prevailed among the officers and crew, as it was known that the boats were without provisions, excepting a small keg of water and supplies for one meal. Toward midnight the fog diminished in density, and a breeze springing up from the north quickly cheered the desponding crew by the sight of the moon, which rapidly grew brighter, until in a few hours the stars shone clearly, and the fog had entirely disappeared. Blue lights were burned at the mast-head the instant that the weather permitted, and the guns were continued at intervals. The sun rose bright, and a gentle breeze, which hardly ruffled the blue ocean, swelled the sails. The Sophia was steered upon a course that would follow CH. iv. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 91 the direction in which the missing boats had been last seen, but the uncertainty of the ship's position, owing to the influence of currents during the long interval of calm, would make that direction doubtful. An anxious look-out from the mast-head for some hours could discover no trace of the lost boats ; the sea was spotless not a broken crest distinguished any superior wave, but the surface was a boundless plain of tranquil blue, over which the vessel glided at the rate of about six knots an hour. It was noon, when a sudden cry from the mast- head, "A boat ahead on the lee bow!" brought all hands on deck in eager expectation. Men ran up the rigging to confirm the glad report, and an object was descried upon the horizon that certainly resem- bled a small boat. For this hopeful sign the Sophia was steered, while the two captains earnestly ex- amined the object with their telescopes. Captain Hunter had gone aloft, and after a few minutes he shouted to the officers on the poop deck, " It's not a boat, but I think it's a dead whale, as I can make out a flight of gulls above it" . . . The hearts of the crew that were so lately elated sank at the dis- appointing news. The breeze had slightly increased, and the Sophia hurried towards the uncertain spot, which grew larger every minute. There was no longer any doubt. A number of birds could be seen hovering above the object, and as the ship approached it was decided, that a dead whale floating high above the surface was the tempt- ing attraction. In half an hour the vessel ran alongside, and 92 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. made fast to an immense sperm-whale. Boats were at once lowered, and it was quickly discovered that three harpoons were deeply fixed in the body, and a great but unknown length of line attached to each was hanging in the depths below. This was a serious illustration of the event. The whale must have run for a great distance, and have been followed by the boats most determinedly, until they became lost in the fog. It had then become necessary to cut the lines in order to return to the Sophia, but the boats had failed to discover her position. The mystery was thus painfully explained. The gas generated had inflated the whale's carcase to an extent that enabled it to float about four feet above the surface. It was still fresh, and would pro- duce an amount of oil and spermaceti to the value of at least Soo. It was considered that the only chance of finding the missing boats would depend upon the Sophia remaining with the whale, as it was probable that the crews would not have rowed far in any one direction, but would endeavour to keep as near as possible to the spot where they had been last seen by their vessel. The whale was accordingly flensed, and the sper- maceti collected in the usual manner ; the deck was piled with blubber, a quantity of which was cut small and prepared for boiling. Signal guns were again fired, but to no purpose. . . . The barometer was falling, and denoted a gale ; this might have been expected as the sequence of the late condition of the atmosphere. Although the sky CH. iv. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 93 was clear, a long narrow line of intense black was observed on the northern horizon, like the edge of mourning writing-paper. This line deepened within an hour, and vivid flashes of lightning could be seen which cut through vertically, and appeared to divide the black wall into fiery gashes. There could be no doubt that a storm was brewing, as a heavy swell set in from the same direction, although the wind was only light and fitful. The barometer continued to fall. The topgallant sails were taken in, and topgallant yards sent down. All sail was reduced to close-reefed foretop-sail, jib, and spanker. Hatchways were secured, guns and boats well lashed, and every arrangement made for heavy weather. The cook was ordered to prepare an extra amount of food, as it was impossible to predict the duration of the coming storm. What would become of the missing boats if exposed to the fury of the gale ? The decks had been cleared of blubber, which had been packed below, and the Sophia was in perfect order. As the storm appeared to be heavy in the north, the ship's course had been altered to the east, in the hope of avoiding the maximum force of the gale. In the- meantime the sea rose considerably, although the wind was still light, and the ship, under her reduced canvas, was hardly making four knots an hour. Captain Bunce had been drunk daily since the departure from Cape Town, and at this moment of anxious preparation he was far from sober ; it had therefore become necessary for Hunter to assume 94 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. the temporary command, while Bunce retired to his cabin and indulged in rum-shrub and forgetfulness. The black wall of cloud had now extended to both east and west, and had risen about thirty degrees upon the horizon, while the lightning illuminated the threatening background by flashes of forked flame, so continuous as to exhibit the hollow depth of shadow, like a yawning cavern. Suddenly and without warning a wild scream was heard, as though all the furies of infernal regions had burst into a prolonged yell, while a bass roar, deeper than thunder, bellowed over the surface of the ocean. The shrieks were aloft, the deep roar below, and the ship for a moment yielding to the storm, lay over almost upon her beam ends. Fortunately all was snug, and she was ready for the blast. " Helm a- starboard!" shouted Captain Hunter through a speak- ing-trumpet, at the same time that he clung to the rigging, and made his way with extreme difficulty aft, to seize the wheel ; the helmsman could not hear the word of command in the tumult of wind and rain, which poured upon the deck like a waterspout, driven into the faces of the crew with blinding force. There were three men at the wheel, and the helm having been brought " hard-over," the ship gradually righted, and was brought up head to wind. A terrific crash of thunder accompanied simultaneously a vivid flash of blue flame, and for an instant all on board imagined that the vessel had been struck ; it was an awful shock, that shook the nerves of the strongest man, as the electric discharge descended into the water within a few yards of the struggling ship, now CH. iv. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 95 beset by terrific waves, that had arisen into furious confusion, as though summoned from profound depths to the attack. The foretop-sail had blown to shreds, but the ship was " laying-to," although occasionally a sea would make a clean breach over her bows. It is difficult to describe the fury of such a storm ; it had burst like a whirlwind upon the ship, and the destruction of the foretop-sail had alone enabled her to recover. The sea was a mere confused mass of broken water ; immense waves were surging onward, but their curling crests were literally carried away by the wind the instant that they broke into surf; the air was a dense mist of sea-water shattered into spray mingled with rain, while the surface of the ocean was reduced to a thick white cream, whipped and churned by the tempest into a consistence. It was impossible to see the largest waves approaching until they were within twenty yards of the ship's bow, so impervious was the water-laden atmosphere. This was only the commencement of the storm, which gathered in intensity for the first three hours ; fortunately there was plenty of sea-room, and the Sophia was a strong ship with an experienced crew. There was little to do, as the ship was lying-to like a duck, although at irregular intervals a terrific sea would strike her with a force that made every timber tremble to the keel, and it felt as though she had bumped upon a rock. Several times a green sea had swept the decks fore and aft, and the good ship had for a few minutes staggered heavily with the weight of water, until relieved by the scuttles and gun ports, 96 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. which had purposely been left open on the upper deck . . For twenty-two hours the gale had lasted with varying force ; the wind had chopped round suddenly upon several occasions, and the decks had been completely swept before the ship's head could meet the changing blast. At last it blew steadily from the west, and as the barometer showed signs of an abatement, and the wind grew steadier, the captain wore the ship, and prepared to run before the gale in the hope of reach- ing better weather. It was a fine sight to see the crew run aloft to loose the maintop -sail with double reefs, and still finer to watch the noble ship fly before the wind, bowling along a furrow of broken foam as she rode upon the crests of following waves, which chased her like greyhounds hunting a flying hare. The curling waters gathered over her taffrail, and often Captain Hunter, as he stood on deck and held on to the mizzen rigging, looked anxiously above at the threat- ening surf; but the good ship rose upon the angry billow, which rushed noisily forward, dispersing itself in creamy foam, leaving the Sophia victorious. On the second day the weather abated, but the ship had run 250 miles to the eastward in twenty- four hours. The sun shone brightly, and the captain obtained satisfactory observations, thus proving his position. As the wind had decreased, additional sail was made, and the vessel continued upon her course due east. . . But where were the missing boats ? Unfortunately they never appeared again ; it was CH. iv. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 97 supposed that the storm must have overtaken them, and, with crews comprising fourteen men, they must have perished in the gale. This was a terrible calamity, which cast a gloom over the whole ship's company. In addition to this anxiety, Captain Hunter had been severely tried by the conduct of Bunce, who had been drunk and un- conscious throughout the late tempest, when the vessel demanded his greatest attention. He expostulated with him, feeling at the same time the inutility of argument with a confirmed drunkard. Bunce pro- mised amendment, of course, and declared that his health was bad, and his nerves weakened, which alone induced him to exceed. He persuaded Hunter that a course should be steered south-east to attain a southerly latitude between 40 and 50, where the sperm whale was more plentiful. Sail was made in that direction. The South Sea is a vast expanse of ocean almost unbroken by land throughout the circuit of the globe, and in this desolate waste of waters the Sophia fished for nearly twelve months, sighting occasionally a barren rocky island, the resort of seals and penguins, but devoid of human habitation. A great number of whales had been captured, including several varieties, and Bunce had exhibited his experience as a whaling captain by piloting the vessel into most remunerative fishing grounds, but unfortunately his habit of drink- ing had increased to a degree that was most dangerous to the discipline of the ship. Although the Sophia had been fitted out for three years, she had been so fortunate in her captures, that H 98 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. before eighteen months were completed she had nearly a full cargo of oil. It was arranged that she should steer for Port Louis in Mauritius, where she could procure a new topmast to replace that which had been badly sprung in a gale, and at the same time she could have her copper cleaned from the weed and barnacles, which had grown in such thickness as to seriously impede her way. There was no occurrence of importance during the voyage, and upon Christmas day 1830 the cry of " land ahead " from the " look-out," called all hands on deck a few minutes after sunrise. The sharp blue outline of volcanic mountains was pierced by the peculiar peak known as the Peter Bautte. This rises to a height of about 3000 feet, and is the highest point in the island ; it is almost sugar-loaf in form, with a large head of rock superposed upon the summit, the sides of which overhang the precipice. This is an unmistakable landmark, toward which the Sophia now steered with a fair breeze, and at about three P.M. she passed the bell buoy and dropped her anchor within the entrance of the long narrow harbour, which penetrates for about two miles inland. Mauritius was a lovely change of scene after several months' view of the barren sea, and the crew were delighted to obtain fresh beef and vegetables after their long diet upon salt provisions. The town of Port Louis was entirely French, and the language of the island was a species of patois that was difficult to understand upon first arrival. The houses were good, and all necessaries could be procured at the numerous shops and stores. As is usual in a French CH. iv. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 99 town, there was an excellent market, where all the productions of the country were displayed, including bananas of great variety and of delicious quality, together with enormous jack- fruit, bread-fruit, man- goes of the finest kinds, some of which were brilliant vermilion, others golden, and many of dark green ; but all highly cultivated by the industrious French gardeners from grafts of the choicest growth. The roads through the island were remarkably good ; and, as carriages could be hired, there was every facility for enjoying the beauty of the scenery, and admiring the wonderful foliage of choice tropical trees that had been planted by the early colonists, and tended with extreme care. The botanical gardens exhibited every rare plant, among others the graceful Rafia palm that had been introduced from Mada- gascar. The traveller's tree was interesting to many newly arrived, but the usual disappointment was ex- pressed when the water, which exuded copiously upon tapping, was discovered to be undrinkable ; it con- sisted of a mucilaginous and rather astringent fluid that would have hardly quenched the thirst of the expectant traveller. Nutmegs, cloves, coffee, cocoa, and a great variety of trees that produce the neces- saries of life were thriving in the well-kept gardens, while the graceful bamboo rose in plumes like gigantic ostrich feathers to a height of sixty feet, and afforded a cool shade in the heat of a mid-day sun. The great agricultural production of Mauritius was the sugar-cane. The whole of the lower country was divided into estates beautifully cultivated and arranged in squares to facilitate the transport by carts during ioo TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. crop-time. Excellent roads throughout each property enabled the canes to be carried off the fields to the crushing mill, where the sugar was manufactured for export. In those days extreme simplicity charac- terised the operations, as science had not introduced the systems which are now so thoroughly understood ; the juice was simply expressed by steel rollers, be- tween which the canes were drawn, the machinery being worked by a steam-engine. An iron vat or caldron, containing about 400 gallons, formed a reservoir to receive the juice, as it poured in a con- tinuous stream from a pipe connected with the mill. Quicklime was added, and well stirred in this large vat to prevent incipient acidity, and to fix the albu- minous matter, before the juice should be thrown off by long ladles into the next boiler. There were five boilers in a row, including the first reservoir ; beneath these a blazing fire was fed with the highly inflammable canes that had been crushed by the steel rollers. The heat graduated according to the position of the boilers, and, as the process of boiling continued, each vat was emptied by ladles in succession towards the boiler nearest to the fire. By this arrangement the watery portion was evaporated, and the juice arrived at the last and hottest boiler in the state of clear syrup. When this was boiled to such a consistence that it would cling like glue to the rod dipped for experiment, it was thrown off without a moment's delay, by men upon either side the battery armed with long ladles ; these were used with great dexterity. The syrup was ladled over an incline, and fell in a glistening sheet into an immense trough or CH. iv. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 101 box about twenty feet long by ten in width. In this it cooled, and crystallised, until it became sugar. From the cooler it was dug out, and placed in deep vats with perforated bottoms, where it remained for some weeks to cleanse ; the molasses percolated through the entire mass, and escaped into a leaden canal below. The sugar was then packed in bags made from the tough leaves of the Vacoua palm, and was ready for exportation. The molasses was subse- quently fermented and distilled for rum. The soil which produced the finest quality of sugar was merely the disintegrated portions of the volcanic rock which originally covered the surface. Upon some estates an immense mass of fragments had to be removed ; these were built into walls about four feet high, running in parallel lines throughout the fields or squares. The true soil was discovered beneath the rocks, and the sugar-canes were planted in holes between the sheltering walls. Mauritius in those days was celebrated for hospi- tality. There were no hotels, therefore perforce the traveller appealed for assistance to the first dwelling upon the road. Country-houses were provided with several small cottages containing a few plainly-fur- nished bed-rooms ; these were termed " pavilions," and were always ready for the reception of a stranger. Excellent gardens formed a necessary adjunct to every residence, and fruit trees of choice varieties were planted in avenues to form an approach ; in fact, the general arrangements of the colony left little to desire; luxury and hospitality were combined. Although the island is only thirty-six miles in 102 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. length, it is a most important colony, as the harbour of Port Louis is perfectly secure at all seasons, and is the only dependable port in those seas. When Mauritius belonged to the French it was a " thorn in the flesh " to England, as the powerful cruisers of our enemy harboured in security, and from their well- fortified base they emerged at uncertain periods to intercept our Indiamen en route for England. It became absolutely necessary to annex this dangerous position, and an expedition was sent in 1 8 1 o, which achieved the task with little difficulty. Since that time the colony has flourished, and the best feeling exists between the French settlers and ourselves. The mountains are generally covered with forests, which include valuable woods, especially the " bois- puant" or "stinkwood," which is highly prized as durable, and proof against the ravages of worms. The sambur deer and wild pigs abound in the forests, but they must have been imported from either Ceylon or India, as the island was without animals when originally discovered by the Portuguese. It is a curious fact that snakes do not exist in Mauritius, although from the stony nature of the ground the conditions for such reptiles are most favourable. There can be little doubt that a volcanic upheaval must have given birth to this island from the depths of the sea, in like manner with the sister isle of Bourbon, which, although much smaller, exhibits a more grand appearance from the superior altitude of the moun- tains ; some of which exceed 12,000 feet, and are capped with snow. Bourbon is better adapted for coffee cultivation than Mauritius, as the exceedingly CH. iv. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 103 deep ravines afford a natural shelter from hurricanes, which occasionally desolate these latitudes. After the capture of Bourbon the English resigned it to the French, as it does not possess a harbour, and St. Denis is at the best a dangerous roadstead. The chief character of Bourbon is the great depth of water around the shores, which in many places rise abruptly from the sea, like its well-known volcano, which is a sheer precipice of many thousand feet to the sea-level, beneath which there are no soundings. I have seen that volcano in full eruption, when a new crater was formed in the side of the mountain, sea- ward, from which the white-hot lava poured in a burning stream down the precipitous cliff, and plunged seething into the bottomless depths below. Bourbon does not produce one third the amount of sugar that is grown in Mauritius, but it is rich in coffee and spices. It is also celebrated for the " miel verte " or green honey of exquisite flavour, which is due to the aromatic blossoms of spice trees, and those of oranges and limes. The Sophia remained during two months at Port Louis, during which she was thoroughly repaired and painted. Captain Hunter took the opportunity of writing to inform Messrs. Harvey and Graham con- cerning the success which had attended their voyage, and trusted that in another three months they would be a " full ship," and steer towards home. At the same time he described the difficulty occasioned by Bunce's habits of intoxication, and declared his inten- tion of superseding him unless a 'change should take place for the better. io 4 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. In those days the postal authorities of England had no regular communication with Mauritius, but letters were forwarded according to the most favour- able opportunities, when trading vessels sailed from London or Liverpool. Captain Hunter accordingly confided his mail-bag to the agent at Port Louis, and the Sophia once more weighed anchor and made sail. During the two months' sojourn in Mauritius, Bunce had become worse. Upon several occasions he had been arrested when on shore for drunken and dis- orderly conduct in the public streets, and, in aggra- vation of his complaint, he had purchased several puncheons of new rum above proof, which he had declared to be a necessary addition to the ship's stores. Upon his return to the ship he was totally unfit for the command, and, in order to obtain the good-will of his crew, he served out double the usual allowance of daily grog ; at the same time he invited his officers to drinking bouts, which usually terminated in quarrelling and uproar. The ship was steering towards her old fishing- ground to the east of Cape Agulhas. On several occasions whales had been seen, and the opportunities had been lost through the general demoralisation of the crew, resulting from the example of the drunken commander. Hardly a day passed without violence. Bunce was always more or less under the influence of liquor, and in certain paroxysms he was almost insane. On one occasion, in an inarticulate voice thickened by continual drunkenness, he gave an order to a sailor, which being unheard, was unheeded. Bunce, CH. iv. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 105 in a fit of frenzy, pulled a brass belaying-pin from its position and felled the man to the deck, where he lay unconscious in a pool of blood. Richard Downe, who was standing by, immediately raised the wounded man from the spot, but himself became the new object of Bunce's fury. Without the slightest pro- vocation the drunkard rushed upon him, and aimed a tremendous blow at his head with the heavy weapon, which fortunately missed its mark and struck the capstan, behind which young Dick had dodged in- stinctively. The next moment he had seized the captain by the throat ; at the same time he tripped him by a sharp action of the left foot, and threw him heavily upon the deck. Dick was at once collared by the chief mate ; several of the crew rushed aft, some lifted the captain upon his legs, while others shouted, " Give it him, Dick ! serve the bully out ! " and as the sailors con- gregated around the cause of quarrel, there could be little doubt that a division of opinion existed which threatened a resort to force. Fortunately at that moment Captain Hunter, who had heard the heavy fall, hastened upon deck, and at once ordered the wounded sailor to be cared for, and Bunce to be seated on a bench. He then called all hands aft, and in the presence of their actual captain he addressed the crew in the following determined words : " Captain Bunce, officers, and men. . . . When this good ship sailed from Gravesend, I was proud of the position which I held as representing the owners of the Sophia. The vessel was worthy of her gallant io6 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. and well-disciplined crew ; and in my long experi- ence I had never seen a more capable or better con- ducted body of seamen. We have worked well together through the sailors' fortunes of calms and storms, of cloud and sunshine ; there have been dangers common to us all, which we have met and shared together, and I feel confident that if it should please God to try our fortitude, you will exhibit the same spirit of discipline, and the courage which is the pride of British sailors. But the ship is no longer the Sophia that sailed from England ; drunkenness and disorder have disgraced us, and I almost envy those poor fellows who were lost with the boats and died, having done their duty, before the character of the crew was stained by insubordination. I will not be responsible for this position. You are your- selves not responsible ; the character of a crew de- pends upon that of her captain, and your present state is the result of a vicious example. The situation must change immediately ; either we will put back to Mauritius and I will leave the ship, or I will exercise my right and assume the command. My authority from the owners is undoubted, and I declare to you all that from henceforth I am your captain. I shall expect and insist upon a return to our original discipline, and I trust that we shall cast anchor in Old England with a full cargo for our employers, and united among ourselves, both officers and men." . . . " Sail ahead on starboard bow ! " shouted the " look-out " from the mast-head. . . . The chief mate at once raised his cap and cried out, " Three cheers, my lads, for Captain Hunter ! hip, hip, hip," etc. CH. iv. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 107 Those hearty cheers installed Hunter as captain of the Sophia. Bunce had dropped off in a drunken sleep during this short address to the crew, and was now awakened, and assisted to his berth below. In the meantime telescopes were directed upon the reported sail, which had changed its position in a singular manner, and was presently made out to be one of that beautiful species of gulls with snow-white plumage and long yellow feathers in the tail, which is only found in those seas. The first step taken by Hunter was a radical reform in the issue of spirits to the crew, and the steward was instructed to keep everything under lock and key, while Bunce was restricted to- a small daily allowance that would prevent intoxication. For some days a marked change had taken place: the men were orderly and obedient, and the ship had resumed her original appearance ; the decks were scrubbed at daybreak ; every rope was in Flemish coil ; the guns were polished with linseed oil, and shone like burnished bronze ; the numerous boats were kept in first-rate readiness, and Captain Bunce had become a sober and peacefully-disposed supernumerary. The Sophia had reached the 30 south latitude, and everything betokened a satis- factory run to her old fishing - ground off Cape Agulhas. CHAPTER V. THE sudden report of a musket, and a heavy fall on deck caused Captain Hunter to leave his chart and to hurry up the companion. Bunce was raving drunk, and, having seized a loaded musket, he had deliber- ately fired at the man in the maintop ; fortunately he had missed his aim, and he was felled to the deck and disarmed at the same instant by Dick Graham, who was holding him by the throat upon Hunter's arrival at the scene. Bunce, who was struggling like a maniac, was at once secured in irons ; and an inquiry was instituted concerning the supply of liquor, which had of late been strictly guarded. It appeared that his craving for spirits had induced him to descend into the hold, where he had searched out the position of the casks of overproof rum that had been taken on board at Mauritius, into one of which he had bored a gimlet-hole, and had filled a jug ; this was discovered in his berth with a portion of the con- tents. For the first time during the voyage Captain Hunter now lost his temper. Bunce was incorrigible, and the only means of compelling sobriety was to destroy the liquor. In a foolish moment of anger Hunter seized an axe, and, descending into the hold, CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 109 he smashed in the heads of every cask of rum ; which at once disappeared in the bilge, to the amount of about 500 gallons. . . . It has already been stated that the rum was immensely strong, having been purchased new, about 30 per cent overproof. The officers and crew were called aft, and Hunter explained the necessity which had induced him to destroy the spirits. Bunce was confined within a cabin, and the door fastened without The destruction of the rum caused general dis- satisfaction ; although there was sufficient of the old stock for the daily allowance during some weeks, the sailors considered an attack upon the liquor as an interference with their rights, and for some days after the event they were somewhat sullen in demeanour. In the meantime Bunce had been carefully guarded, and, being limited to his usual allowance of two gills a day, he had recovered his senses, although he ap- peared cast down with despondency. A week had elapsed since the destruction of the rum casks ; Bunce was craving for the unnatural excitement which had become habitual. When the cabin-boy entered to arrange his cabin, he slipped a half-crown into his hand, and ordered him to visit the broken puncheons, and endeavour to collect any rum that might be remaining in the bottoms. The half-crown was a temptation, and the boy departed stealthily upon his errand. He took a jug and a small cup with which he might be able to bale out any liquor, should it have collected in the hollow of a tilted cask ; he also took a tinder-box and matches, together with a small piece of candle that was con- no TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. tained among the tinder. . . . Having no shoes, he noiselessly descended the hatchway, and cautiously felt his way among the numerous tiers of oil-casks, until he arrived at that portion of the vessel where the rum puncheons had been stowed. ^ It was very dark. There was a powerful fragrance of rum through- out the ship, which quite overpowered the faint odour of sperm oil, and the close atmosphere seemed over- charged with spirit, as the pungent fumes caused him to sneeze. He struck a light with the flint and steel, and, having ignited a match, he held the naked candle in one hand, while he placed the tinder-box upon a barrel. The rum puncheons were stowed in one tier side by side, and the heads, which faced him, had been broken in ; nevertheless he had no doubt that a considerable quantity of spirit remained in the belly of each cask. He accordingly peered into the dark- ness, and, to make certain of the contents, he stretched out his hand with the lighted candle into the centre of the empty puncheon. No flash of lightning could have been more sudden or terrific in results ! A tremendous explosion took place, which shook the vessel from stem to stern, as the gas, generated by the powerful spirit, ignited, with the report of a cannon. In one instant the ship's hold was a mass of flame, which shot up high above the hatchway and roared like the blast of a furnace. The boy was killed upon the spot, and the consterna- tion of all on board at the suddenness of this awful calamity was indescribable. Captain Hunter was on the poop-deck when the explosion startled his strong nerves for the moment, CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. in though in the next instant he realised the extent of the catastrophe, and shouted the necessary orders. " Lower away all boats, fill water-kegs, my lads ; steady, all hands ! " . . . Hunter was a brave man, but his face was pale as death. " Now's your time, Dick," he continued calmly ; " get as much water stowed in the boats as you can, together with biscuits and salt pork. There's no chance for the Sophia, with a cargo of oil, and we've little time to spare before the fire reaches the powder magazine ! " The chief mate and the well-organised crew worked with extraordinary energy ; each man seemed to be endued with double strength, and the long-boat was safely lowered ; fortunately the sea was smooth, and the wind slight. Provisions were hastily collected, firearms and ammunition handed into the various boats, which were supplied, as was usual in a whaler, with every necessary, such as oars, sails, harpoons, etc. The work was effected with marvellous rapidity, as the crew were well versed in lowering boats upon the sudden order when whales were sighted. In the short space of a few minutes, the flames, ascending with increasing force through the hatchway, caught the mainsail, and immediately leapt higher and ignited the main-topsail. Hunter had himself rushed to the wheel and had put the ship before the wind, which being almost calm, drifted the flaming vessel slowly forward, the boats with their crews keeping within a few yards astern. Dick had never left the deck, and while the boats with their usual crews were fully manned, he stood by the captain's side, determined to share his fate. ii2 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. " Stand by the helm, Dick," cried Hunter suddenly, as smoke shot upward from the cabin skylight. " The fire has reached the cabin through the lower deck ! " At the same moment Hunter rushed down through the ascending smoke, and with difficulty reached the cabin. A few instants later, he appeared half suffo- cated, his hair singed by flame, and so completely, overpowered that he gasped for fresh air as he re- treated to the wheel, clutching in his grasp the log- book, sextant, nautical almanac, chronometer, and charts. At the peril of his life he had saved these all-important articles ; the log-book would prove the amount of oil on board, by which the owners could recover the insurance ; the navigation of the boats depended mainly upon astronomical observations. "Now, Dick," exclaimed Hunter mournfully, "the good old ship is lost, and we have no time to risk, for I feel the deck planks hot. The men are in the boats, and we are the last on board. Long-boat, ahoy ! " shouted Hunter, and in another moment both he and Dick swung themselves from the taffrail by a rope, and were received on board. " Shove off," cried Hunter ; " pull a few strokes astern and clear the ship." . . . The order was obeyed, and as the doomed vessel slowly forged ahead before the gentle breeze, the boats were quickly left astern. This dreadful calamity had occurred with such startling suddenness that it was almost impossible to realise the extent of the position. The original dis- cipline of a well-trained crew of able seamen had been exhibited in the coolness and dexterity with cir. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 113 which the shock had been sustained, and the orderly manner in which the boats had been lowered and manned, in the midst of the most fearful danger to which the sailor can be exposed. Tempest is the sailors' common enemy, butjfire is a terrible word at sea, where the mere smell of burning will cause the heart to throb. The wild anxiety of the last fifteen minutes, when all thoughts were concentrated upon lowering boats, and saving their own lives, had now vanished ; the boats were called together, and the men mustered ; all were present except the cabin-boy who had caused this dreadful ruin. Bunce had rushed on deck at the first alarm, and was now seated in the stern-sheets of a whale-boat. Evening was approaching, and the Sophia was a mass of flame, the sails flaring up to the royals, and the ship almost stationary. Instinct- ively the boat's crews dipped their oars, and followed their loved ship as though in a fearful dream ; there was no object in thus keeping near to the blazing vessel, but the action was a natural impulse of a sailor. Suddenly the sun sank below the horizon, and darkness quickly shrouded the ocean. The Sophia, being laden with oil, blazed with terrific fury, and as the night grew dark, the burning ship cast a lurid glow of red far and wide, which was reflected upon the clouds above. The boats kept close together like a small flock of ducks, and still hovered within a few hundred yards of the ill-fated vessel. An immense flame shot upward, with a bright mass of sparks thrown fan-shaped high in air ! ... A loud report followed this explosion ; burning frag- I ii 4 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. ments fell hissing into the calm sea ; then all was dark and still ! The moon had just risen, and was shining peacefully upon the unbroken ocean, and upon the little family of boats clinging together like children mourning for a dead mother. It was a sad moment for the crew ; the excite- ment of the late struggle for life was over, and they now faced the cold reality of their situation. The moon was a little past the full, and she rose rapidly, throwing a clear mild light upon the scene. There were seven boats including the long-boat. Six whale- boats carried forty-two men, while the long-boat con- tained fourteen. Captain Hunter having formed a centre to this forlorn flotilla, addressed a few words to the assembled crews. He assured them of their exact position by observations worked out at noon that day. The nearest land was more than 900 miles distant ; this would be the south point of Madagascar. It would be necessary to pull without ceasing if any hopes could be entertained of reaching land before their water and provisions should be consumed. All the boats were provided with sails, therefore they would have the chances of favourable winds to relieve the rowers, but it was absolutely necessary to enact a rule that each man should pull an oar for two hours, to be relieved alternately, and that failing this division of labour, the defaulter must be thrown overboard. If a man should be too weak to pull, he would lose his right to a share of water and provisions, and the others could not be expected to row his useless weight CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 115 There were two compasses, therefore the boats must be divided into two parties, one under the com- mand of Bunce, assisted by the chief mate ; the other under Hunter, accompanied by Richard Downe. If the weather should continue fair there was reason to hope that land might be reached upon the ninth day. Hunter ended his terse discourse by beseech- ing all present to place their trust and hope in God. " Let every man pray in his heart for assistance from the Almighty, and do his best ; if this spirit guides us, we need not be afraid." The course was given west- north- west, and the crews, cheered by the words of the trusty captain, pulled manfully at their oars, the boats forming two lines abreast The sea being calm and the moon tright, afforded favourable conditions for the departure ; and hope, which brightens the darkest day, inspired the hearts of the shipwrecked sailors, who little knew the terrible fate that the future had in store. When morning broke they had travelled about fifty miles, as the men were fresh and had rowed with vigour. If they could make a hundred miles each day, they would be sure to reach the land. The question of provisions was most serious ; there was no possibility of lighting a fire, therefore the salt pork must be eaten raw ; this would aggravate the thirst which must result from working hard in a hot sun. The stock of water was considerable, and a calcula- tion was made respecting the maximum allowance that could be afforded for each man ; but when divided by the boat's crew, it dwindled to an insigni- ii6 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. ficant quantity, and could not possibly be sustained beyond eight days. It was a serious forecast of the coming trial that under the most favourable circum- stances they must be devoid of water for one whole day ; should any misadventure arise through adverse weather, it would be impossible to predict the extent of the calamity. . . . The first day was propitious; the men rowed well, and all boats kept their positions. The second and third days were equally favour- able, and a gentle breeze had enabled them to carry sail, which materially aided the rowers, who rested for several hours from their labour. The fourth day arrived, and with the usual elasticity of mind that distinguishes British seamen, the crews had no longer any anxiety, but had come to the conclusion that good luck would attend their voyage, and compensate in some measure the loss they had sustained. On the fifth night the wind freshened and the boats sailed well, but toward morning the sky became overcast, and the wind, which had been favourable, suddenly chopped round and blew hard against them. The sun rose red, and there were ominous signs of an approaching gale. Sail had been taken in, and the men laboured at their oars against the strong head -wind, making but little progress. The wind increased to a gale, and the broken seas became so heavy that the greatest exertions were required to keep the boats' heads to wind, otherwise they must have been swamped. Fine weather and good fortune had forsaken them ; their thoughts must have wan- dered to the Sophia which had so often battled against a gale, and now, instead of the good ship, they had CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 117 to struggle against the sea in her open boats. With the approach of night the gale increased in violence : terrific seas burst almost upon them, and the boats could barely be kept against the roaring surf. The night became dark, and not a star broke through the clouds. The only light was the phosphorescent glow of the broken waves, in which the boats floated as though in a fiery sea. It was a hard task for the tired crew, as the force of the wind nearly tore the oars from their stiffened hands, and the boats could not move an inch, but barely kept their positions against the gale. The hours of darkness seemed doubly long, and appeared as though two nights had been welded into one. At length a gray streak proclaimed the dawn, and Hunter, who had taken his turn at the oar in rotation with the rest, looked anxiously for the other boats through the dim twilight. In vain he strained his eyes, half-blinded with salt spray ; there was not a boat in view. It was not a moment for reflections; there was too much danger present ; the long-boat, being thirty feet in length and eight feet beam, had an advantage over the smaller whale-boats, not only in her size, but in the strength of her crew. Although in the usual course she had pulled six oars in rotation, she could now man eight to keep her head against the gale, and still reserve a relief. Throughout the day the gale continued, and the fatigued crew of the long-boat were employed not only in stemming the furious wind, but in baling out, whenever a sea capped the gunwale and poured over n8 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALK n. her side in broken surf. There was no rest that day, nor through the ensuing night, and the crew were well-nigh exhausted. Once more the morning broke. It still blew hard, although the wind had veered a little to the north ; this change increased the danger, as it was absolutely necessary that the boat's head should meet the sea ; she was therefore obliged to alter her course accordingly, and would lose progres- sion, while time meant life or death, as the water and provisions were decreasing. Toward noon the sun burst through the clouds, and the gale decreased. The waves no longer broke into creamy crests ; the angry sea subsided, like a wild beast that had spent its rage, and laid down to sleep. This was a merciful deliverance from the storm, and every man thanked God in his inward breast, for all had prayed in secret for aid in this great danger. During the night the sea fell calm ; the moon rose toward midnight, and once again hope rose within their hearts as the pressing danger had passed away. Another morning broke ; the sun rose grandly from his ocean bed, and shed a golden lustre over the bright sea; fine weather had returned again, but the boat rowed heavily. The men were worn out with fatigue, and there was no strength in the oars to propel the heavy long-boat. It was a pitiable sight to watch the sunken cheeks and hollow eyes of the men who lately formed a portion of a stalwart crew. The oars refused to bend to the long stroke, but remained stiff in the hands of those who had lost their former power. The raw salt pork, in addition to fatigue and sun- CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 119 heat, had created a raging thirst. It was impossible to resist an extra allowance of water, and Hunter saw with dismay that his men were becoming un- governable in their demand. Water they would have to-day, even should they die of thirst to-morrow. The calm sea and bright sky were favourable to an observation, and Hunter found the approximate position of the boat. They had lost all chance of reaching land before the provisions should be ex- hausted, and the water was almost gone ; the men had stolen it during the night Several of the crew were delirious with fatigue and want of sleep. When their turn arrived to take the oars, they threw them into the sea, and the boat was continually delayed in their recovery. Two men insisted upon drinking salt water ; another jumped overboard and sank. . . . On the following day those who had drunk salt water went raving mad ; they snatched the oars from those who were faintly rowing. A wrestle took place, and they fell over the gunwale. The boat passed on, and their hands were seen for a few seconds above the water. Richard Downe had supported his captain with zealous care during this trying ordeal. Hunter had upon a former occasion been subjected to similar privations, and he cautioned all to keep as silent as possible ; the act of opening the mouth to converse in the dry burning heat of the sun would aggravate thirst. The day at length arrived when death stared them in the face ; the water was exhausted, and the last piece of raw salt pork had been consumed. Another 120 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. man died. The body was thrown overboard, but having been kept for several hours exposed to the sun it had become inflated, and would not sink. The crew had rested on their oars hopelessly, worn out with fatigue and misery ; their swollen tongues pro- truded from their lips, and had become brown and furry with extreme dryness ; the dead body of their comrade floated in a calm sea within a few feet of their boat : all wished that the pangs of death were over, and envied the unconscious corpse. Suddenly a long dark brown fin like a scimitar protruded from the surface about ten yards distant, and was followed almost immediately by the appear- ance of a large shark, who swam leisurely up to the floating body, and then around, as though uncertain whether to seize the prey. Without a moment's hesitation Hunter seized a harpoon, and made it fast to a line, but the shark had disappeared. " Keep quiet," he whispered to the expectant crew, who had been stimulated from their stupor by this unexpected visitation. " Keep silence ; and ship your oars, he'll be here again presently." . , , The nervous system is a mysterious paradox ; the men who were half dead a few minutes before now re- covered their spirits at the chance so unexpectedly presented, and exhibited a keen interest in sport which was their special calling. Hunter stood in the bow of the boat with the harpoon ready, watching intently the dead body of their late comrade, which floated a few yards distant. A few minutes elapsed, and hope began to sink ; it was supposed that the shark was scared by the pre- CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 121 sence of the boat, and would not again return. The captain's arm slowly raised the harpoon, as he gazed almost perpendicularly into the blue water. The next instant there was a dash and quick commotion! the dead body whirled rapidly as though in a sharp eddy, and a flash of white in a long streak was seen beneath, at the same time that the harpoon sped from Hunter's hand, and the line whizzed over the gunwale. The shark was struck ! It had evidently risen from a considerable depth to attack the body by a sudden rush from below. Although the excitement of the moment had added new life to the weary and famished crew, their muscles were weak, and they with difficulty managed to play the large shark to which they were attached. Having allowed it to run out sixty fathoms of line, they hauled steadily upon it, and shortened their length to about twenty yards ; they then made fast the line by a round turn upon the bow thwart, and the fish towed the boat at discretion until tired. The crew then hauled away until the shark was alongside the boat, when a shot from a musket in the spine, at the junction with the head, killed it immediately. It was about twelve feet long. All hands were em- ployed in cutting the flesh into long thin strips that would dry in the hot sun, and afford a lasting supply of food. The men ate it raw as they busily pre- pared it for store, and the fresh fish moistened their feverish palates, and cooled their tongues. In a few hours their work was finished, and the reaction set in. A raging thirst completely over- powered them, and several threw themselves panting 122 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. into the bottom of the boat. Even Hunter was prostrate, and Dick, who had manfully sustained the agony of thirst, was sucking a piece of raw shark in the hope of assuaging the cruel torment. The sun was burning, but there was no breeze. The sea was a dead calm. A seaman, who had been apparently asleep, sud- denly started up and with a wild and unearthly yell plunged overboard, and never rose again. No person moved to save him all had grown callous in the common misery ; they looked vacantly at the sea, as though acknowledging a friend to whom they could make a final appeal in a last agony. The evening came ; the sun, which had been their persecutor, now sank beneath the horizon, and the night covered them. They were too weak to row ; the crew, originally fourteen, was reduced to nine. It was in vain that Hunter in a thick husky voice endeavoured to cheer them to their work, and he and Dick both attempted to take an oar ; the strength was gone. Hunter and Dick were forced to relinquish their task, and they laid down together with the remaining crew thoroughly prostrated, and fell into a restless sleep, the precursor of that peculiar coma which heralds death. No one was awake. It was past midnight. The long-boat floated upon the calm sea with her dying crew. All was still as death ; not a ripple murmured against her sides, and the boat was motionless ; a mere speck upon the vast expanse of ocean ; but that speck contained a mountain of anguish. As CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 123 each worn-out sailor sank into the stupor of thirst and weariness, his thoughts had travelled to his dis- tant home, and as his eyes had closed upon the scene of wretchedness, they conjured up those images of love that would mourn his loss, but never know his fate. Hunter thought of his loved wife ; he dreamt of home, and that he pressed her in his arms. His dream changed : they were walking together upon the sea-shore ; he had just returned, and he was telling her of their terrible anxiety when the Sophia was in flames, and how they nearly starved and died of thirst ; he told how in his supposed last moments he had thought of her, and would have died with her image in his heart. They came to a rippling stream that fell from a cliff, and she told him to drink. He drank ! drank ! drank ! ... he could not assuage his thirst ; again he drank, and stood beneath the falling stream which fell upon his head and shoulders. He looked for his wife, but she was gone ! vanished into thin air ! a moment of agony thrilled through him, and he awoke from his dream with a start ; he was wet through ; . . . rain was pouring from a heaven-sent cloud ! Dick had awakened together with several of the men, while others were still asleep, or in a state of stupor. Two were dead at the bottom of the boat. For a few minutes Hunter could scarcely collect his thoughts, and he was hardly certain whether the present was not a portion of his dream. Recovering from his confused ideas, he immediately took steps to secure the supply of rain-water. Assisted by Dick and two men, he spread the boat's sail, and bending i2 4 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. down one end, he led the stream into the bung-holes of the empty kegs ; all of which were filled. There was no wind, but the rain fell with tropical violence for about two hours, and even the boat required baling. Hunter decided that the water in the boat's bottom should be retained for washing, and that nothing should be wasted. The cloud having expended itself, passed on towards the south, forming a mere island of floating vapour in the otherwise clear sky. Hunter and his crew fixed their eyes upon that dark spot as it faded gradually from view, and fell upon their knees to thank God who had preserved them from a cruel death. Their nerves were weakened by prostration ; some wept like children, others embraced; a few continued in prayer, overpowered by their emotion. The morning broke ; again their enemy the sun arose from the deep sea, but a fine breeze from the south-east had sprung up, and the wet sail was hoisted. The long-boat glided through the water briskly, and was making six knots. This saved the tired crew from all exertion. The rain, which had saturated their clothes, had been partially absorbed by the body, and had produced an extraordinary effect in recovering the men from their late prostration. Their nerves were strengthened by the reaction ; they had both food and water sufficient for about ten days upon full allowance, as their party had been much reduced, only seven remaining from the original four- teen. . . . Hunter regained his former control ; he cheered their spirits, and assured them of his belief that the Almighty had specially interposed in their CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 125 behalf. Should the wind remain fair, there was every hope of sighting land in four or five days ; in the meantime their strength would improve by good food and wholesome water. Four days passed away, and it seemed as though some pitying angel had been commissioned to protect this remnant of a crew: the breeze had never slackened nor even changed, the sea was comparatively smooth, and the boat, which would have been too heavy for so few men to pull, had travelled rapidly through the water under sail, steering an unvarying course. Fly- ing fish rose like silvery swallows as the boat dis- turbed their shoals, and skimmed above the waves, dipping their long fins upon the crests, and ricochet- ing for several hundred feet before they disappeared. These flights of fish gave life to the hitherto barren sea. Shoals of porpoises showed their dark backs above the surface as they dashed in hot pursuit after the flying fish : and a brown speck high in air gladdened all hearts upon its near approach, when it proved to be a gull. During that day several of the same species were seen, also cormorants, which gave hopes of land at no great distance. On the following morning a small bird hovered above the boat, and presently settled for rest upon the mast ; this was a land bird that had travelled seaward. It would be impossible to describe the delight of the crew in welcoming this confiding visitor, which had probably been chased by some hawk, and having in its fright fled from the shore, had found refuge upon their mast, bringing glad tidings that land was near. 126 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. During that day all eyes were strained toward the West ; seaweed was passed, floating in masses, as though torn by waves from coral rocks. A portion was examined, and small particles of coral were ad- hering to the roots. The fair breeze was faithful, and the boat rushed onward. The men had become accustomed to the dried shark's flesh, and, although they would have considered hard biscuits the choicest delicacy, they had regained a portion of their former strength. . . . The night arrived. At about three A.M. a long white line could be descried about two miles ahead. There was no moon until near morning, but the stars were bright, and the horizon clear. The boat stood on direct for the white streak, until in the calm night the sound of breakers was distinctly audible. Hunter determined to lie to until the daylight should discover their position ; the boat's head was brought up to the wind, and she lay off and on for some hours. When the day broke, and the sun rose with the rapidity so well known in tropical regions, the line of surf appeared not far distant. It broke upon a group of coral islands which were apparently uninhabited, as there were no signs of dwellings, but merely a few dozen cocoa-nut trees towering above some stunted vegetation. The sight of land after the trying voyage was a great joy to the boat's crew, and Hunter quickly perceived a dark green gap in the line of surf that denoted a safe entrance. He immediately steered for the natural port, and in a few minutes the long- boat in full sail with a smart breeze passed the CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 127 broken waves upon the right and left as they dashed themselves into roaring foam, and safely glided into the still light-green water within the reef. This was as smooth as a pond ; the girdle of reefs formed a zone upon which the waves expended their force. The true island was about a quarter of a mile distant, and the boat slipped quietly through the still water, steering toward a group of cocoa-nut trees until the order was given to take in sail, and then rowing with only four oars, landed upon a shelv- ing bank of snow-white sand. Captain Hunter was the first to leap on shore, and, as his feet reached the land, he for a few moments stood without moving, with his face buried in his sailor's cap. " Thank God," each man ejacu- lated as he once more felt the firm earth beneath him ; and the next minute all hands scattered to forage upon the uninhabited island. . . . There was not much to discover, but happily a quantity of drift wood had been left upon the beach. There were vestiges of a fire here and there, proving that the island was sometimes visited, and pieces of half-burnt sticks that had assisted at these fires were carefully collected by the men, who for so many days had not tasted a cooked meal. Some dried cocoa-nut husks were lying about ; these were a great prize for fuel, and presently among the low green bushes a small deserted hut was dis- covered that had been at some time inhabited by fishermen, as the bones and scales of many large fish were strewed around. This hut was at once de- 128 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. molished, and the sticks were carefully bound, into bundles with twisted cocoa-nut leaves. The beach was composed of exceedingly fine white sand, and Hunter and young Downe strolled together along the water's edge to examine this fine surface, as it would exhibit the footprints of men should they have recently visited the island. They found no trace of human beings, but quickly discovered the tracks of turtle, which laid their eggs in the warm bank of sand. There was no difficulty in tracking them to the spot, as the sand showed clearly the recent disturbance, and by digging about a foot deep several nests were unearthed, yielding many hundred eggs. This was a glorious find, and it was suggested that as the water casks were well supplied, they should pass the night upon the island, where they might probably succeed in catching a few turtle. There was no fresh water on the reef, and from the remnants of broken pottery of a rude kind, it appeared that the fishermen must have brought their supply from the mainland. They had no matches, but fire was easily pro- cured by drawing the cartridge from a musket, and then firing off a roll of cotton rag with a small charge of powder. Some dry cocoa-nut leaves assisted to produce a flame, and when evening came and dark- ness once more shadowed the now joyful sailors, they were seated round a blazing fire cooking turtle eggs, and boiling oysters, a quantity of which they had found adhering to the rocks. After a good supper the party divided in search of turtle, that would probably quit the water after CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 129 dark in order to lay their eggs upon the sand. Three large turtle were triumphantly laid upon their backs, and carried on the following morning to the boat, in which was packed a supply of firewood and a variety of shells, including oysters in great quantity. There were many cocoa-nuts growing in heavy clusters upon the tall trees, and several vain attempts had been made to climb the branchless stems ; the men had not recovered sufficient strength. Although it was almost sinful to destroy a tree that might be so useful to others in their own forlorn position, it was at length agreed that necessity knew no law, and that the axe must be applied to the roots of several that bore an abundant crop. . . . Three trees crashed down, scattering the great nuts in all directions by the shock ; these were collected to the number of about two hundred, and were stowed within the boat. As each nut contained nearly a pint of sweet water, there would be both food, drink, and fuel ; the shell of the nut is exceedingly oily and inflammable. Once more all were on board the long-boat, and they pushed off from the shore, and rowed through the gap of the reef into the open sea. The clearness of the water was extraordinary, and every variety of coral and sea-weed of various colours could be dis- tinguished at a great depth. The sail was hoisted, and the wind, which had freshened into a strong breeze, drove the boat along at about seven knots, steering due west. A few minutes after noon, a bank of clouds that had obscured the horizon suddenly lifted, and dis- closed the well-defined outline of a mountain range, K 130 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. about fifty miles distant. At two P.M. trees were visible as though springing from the water, and form- ing a fringe upon the sky-line. These appeared to grow rapidly in height as the boat shot forward with the strong wind, and in another hour the coast was brought clearly into view. The shore was low and wooded, small hills ascended a few miles inland, which were backed by higher ranges terminating in the mountains which had been first descried. Several reefs rose above the surface, upon which a heavy surf was breaking, and the approach to the coast would have been extremely difficult, had not good fortune directed them toward a long promontory that formed the extreme point of an estuary which penetrated for several miles inland. Upon nearing the entrance, it was discovered that a bar stretched across the narrow mouth, where the sea was exceed- ingly dangerous, and much caution was required in searching for a secure passage. The wind was dead on shore, and the long-boat having kept parallel with the breakers a few hundred yards outside the surf, fortunately perceived a dark and quiet channel close to the point, which denoted deeper water. Steering for this favourable passage, the boat bounded over the heavy swell, and in a few minutes was scudding before the wind in perfectly smooth water. Beautiful trees overhung the placid surface, bamboos in feathery clusters rose gracefully from the inferior underwood, and shortly the elegant Rafia palm (Sagus Rafid) was exhibited in massive groups, which recalled to Hunter's memory the bo- tanical gardens of Mauritius. The tree was here in CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 131 its own home. ..." Here we are in Madagascar, my lads ! " exclaimed Hunter, " and I hope the natives will give us a good reception. Do not attempt any resistance, as it would be utterly useless ; we must take our chance, and endeavour to show them that we have perfect confidence, and arrive as friends." The captain had scarcely spoken, when two large canoes were discovered paddling round the bend of a river which met the estuary ; they were full of men, and were evidently directing their course toward the long-boat. . . . Three additional canoes quickly turned the corner, and hastened to overtake the leaders. The approach of the foreign boat had been observed, and the moment was not free from anxiety. Hunter at once gave orders that two of the crew should lift up one of the turtles when the canoes should be within easy distance, as the gesture would be under- stood by the natives to signify a peaceful motive. As the English boat was sailing at good speed, and the canoes were paddling towards her with a strong force of rowers, they quickly neared, and in a few minutes were within a hundred yards. The long- boat lowered her sail, and Hunter stood up in the bows holding both arms extended above his head as a sign that he carried no weapons. At the same time Dick and another sailor managed to lift a turtle, and balance it on end upon the stem of the boat. ... A yell of laughter arose from the naked crew of the canoe, and without any hesitation, they pulled close alongside the long-boat, and took the turtle into their own vessel, including the two others which lay at the bottom of the boat. They evidently intended 132 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. to secure all they could lay hold of before the arrival of the other canoes to divide the spoil. Although the reception was rough, it was not positively hostile ; a number of natives had boarded the long-boat, accordingly Hunter hoisted the sail, and the breeze at once acting upon the boat, they quickly left the canoes behind, and ran up the estuary. As the sailors had joined in the general laughter, the natives thought the whole affair good fun, and inti- mated that they should row as well as sail, pointing to a dark grove of trees about a mile distant, as the place for which they should steer. A general race took place, but as the wind was fresh, the long-boat kept the lead, and was followed by the five canoes, whose crews were paddling with all their might, at the same time they were screaming a kind of chant in most discordant tones, which was intended to be an accompaniment to the paddle strokes. They were not long in reaching the shore, and discovered upon landing that a large village was concealed by the heavy foliage, where many hundreds of men, women, and children, were awaiting their arrival. There could be little doubt in Hunter's mind that he and his party were prisoners, but he was anxious to save a box which contained the precious log-book, and his nautical instruments. He accordingly lifted it from the boat himself, and carried it beneath a tree near a hut, where he sat himself down upon it as though it were his ordinary seat. At the same time his men secured the muskets and ammunition, and, with the assistance of the natives, cleared the boat of harpoons, lines, and water casks, etc. ; these CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 133 were piled in front of a large hut, which belonged to some native of importance. They had not long to wait before the hollow tones of native drums were heard, and the shrill sound of whistles or flutes ; these heralded the arrival of the chief, who marched into the village in considerable state, being followed by a number of men armed with spears. The chief was a fine man, above the usual height, with an expression of keen intelligence ; he was almost naked, but wore a scarf of native manu- facture around his loins, and a variety of beautifully- coloured feathers arranged like a coronet upon his head. His armlets were solid gold, which had been hammered to an octagon, and bent into a massive ring above the biceps muscle. The rich yellow metal unmixed with alloy, looked doubly bright in contrast with his smooth coal-black skin. Similar rings were around each leg beneath the knee. Although, like others of his race, his lips were full, and his nose broader than the same feature among Europeans, the chief was a remarkably handsome man, even among his own people, who were far superior to the ordinary negro type. The absence of an interpreter was an extreme difficulty. Hunter's first inquiry would have con- cerned the missing boats, as he trusted that by some good fortune they might have reached the coast. It was quite impossible to convey his meaning. He endeavoured by pantomime to describe the burning of their vessel, and the escape in boats. Pointing to the distant sea horizon, he took fire and applied it to a canoe, for a moment of time, he then threw the fire 134 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. in air to imitate a conflagration ; he broke pieces of cane into a number that would represent the boats which left the burning ship ; he then showed that one boat only had gained the shore, and exhibited his anxiety concerning the remainder. It was of no use ; the chief appeared to understand that some boat had been burned, but beyond that fact he was obtuse to all pantomimic attempts at description. The chief could have taken all their small effects without considering their feelings, as the party was entirely in his power, but Hunter with ready tact selected the cleanest musket, and, after polishing it with some wood ashes taken from the fire, he pre- sented it as an offering to the great man, with ex- treme civility of manner. He was requested to fire it off, as the chief had heard of firearms, but had never witnessed their effect Hunter aimed at a cluster of cocoa-nuts, and at the discharge, three fell to the ground, which were immediately seized upon by the natives and presented to their chief. The women had stopped their ears at the report of the musket, but the men, although ignorant of the use of firearms, had not evinced the slightest fear. . . . Hunter now explained, as well as he was able, the manipulation of the lock and trigger ; he snapped the flint and steel, showing the pan for the priming, and the touchhole that communicated with the barrel. The chief was delighted, and expressed a wish to fire the musket himself. The instruction he had just received enabled him to load without assistance ; he bit off the end of a cartridge, and rammed it home. He placed the musket upon full cock, although point- CH. v. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 135 ing directly upon a crowd of women, who were admiring their chiefs dexterity. An order was given, and in a few minutes a fat goat was led forward; this was held by a native about five yards from the chief, who, after several attempts to aim, during which he had the instruction of Captain Hunter, fired ; and to his intense delight, the goat fell dead ! . . . He immediately examined the hole by which the ball had entered, and that upon the other side by which it had made its exit. The goat was skinned upon the spot, and opened ; the passage of the ball and its effect were closely scrutinised, and at the conclusion the goat was pre- sented to Hunter and his men. The chief made signs that Hunter was to occupy a hut close to his own residence, and that he and his men were to follow him. There were half a dozen muskets in a more or less rusty state, and a small keg of cartridges. Hunter ordered his men to shoulder arms, and to march in single file as a guard of honour behind the chief. About five minutes' walk led them to a huge india- rubber tree, near which grew one of those magnificent examples of vegetation, a stately tamarind of many centuries' growth, whose widespreading branches would have covered five hundred mounted men. The girth of this sound trunk was about thirty feet, and beneath its shade were several of the chief's family, reclining upon neatly-woven mats. All rose to receive him, and remained standing until the order was given for the whole party to sit down. The mighty tamarind was covered with fruit that was nearly ripe, as the pods were well filled, and 136 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. brown. The boughs were full of monkeys, who gam- bolled with each other and munched the acid fruit with little fear of the human crowd beneath. Parrots of gaudy colours flitted among the branches, uttering discordant cries, and beautiful green pigeons in great numbers whistled and cooed in company with in- numerable doves, and smaller birds of wonderful variety. That grand tree appeared like a little world of feathered life ; it was an emblem of silent strength, and the majesty of the everlasting ; and yet so sensi- tive to light, that, as the sun sank at even below the horizon, each of the million leaves closed upon the departed day, and slept till wakened on the morn. It is a curious example of the effect of sunlight upon certain vegetation, that the leaf of the tamarind always folds itself as though to sleep at the approach of night. Huts were quickly prepared for Hunter and his men ; clean mats were laid upon the ground, and the chief, having taken his departure, the party were not long in preparing their goat's flesh by. roasting it before the embers of the fire. This was a meal that was thoroughly enjoyed, as they had not tasted fresh meat since the day of sailing from Port Louis. A large calabash of toddy, which is the fermented sap obtained by tapping the embryo fruit-stems of the cocoa-nut tree, was sent as a present from the chief ; this was tolerably strong, and the welcome drink warmed the hearts and brightened the spirits of the late miserable crew, who for the first time during many days forgot their troubles, and laid down happily at night to sleep. CHAPTER VI. THREE years had passed away since we left Hunter and his men happily asleep. . . . Madagascar had passed through a political crisis. The enlightened King Raddma, who had endeavoured to introduce reforms, and by the encouragement of European enterprise to stimulate the desires of his subjects towards commerce and civilisation, had died in 1828, and had been succeeded by his Queen Ranavola, who determined to overthrow every institution which her good husband had created. Raddma had encouraged missionaries, he had established schools, the army was organised by Euro- peans, treaties of commerce had been entered into with the English and French, the slave trade was discouraged, the industries of the country were de- veloped, and European settlers had been invited to take up their residence at Tamatave, and at several stations upon the west coast on the Mozambique Channel. The Christian religion had been embraced by many converts, and the general intelligence of the people, under the guidance of their enlightened ruler, gave promise of rapid strides toward civilisation. The Queen was idolatrous, and hated Europeans. She trampled upon all treaties, and gave all foreign- 138 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. ers fifteen days' notice to quit the country. The Christians were persecuted, and many were cruelly put to death. All schools were abolished, commerce was paralysed, and the country was at once thrown back into barbarism. There are few countries in the world more capable of development than Madagascar. The island is about 950 miles in length, varying from 200 to 500 miles in width ; the soil is rich, and although the coast-line is generally unhealthy, the interior is well adapted to the constitution of Europeans, as the country rises rapidly to a succession of plateaux upon mountain ranges, the peaks of which rise to a height of 10,000 or 12,000 feet. As the island comprises latitudes from 12 to 25 50' south, and is well watered by periodical rains, the productions are extremely abundant, including rice, indigenous sugar-cane, indigo, manioc or cassava, several species of tobacco, pepper, ginger, pimento, oranges, limes, bananas, and fruits of great variety, with cocoa-nuts and the bread-fruit; the latter tree is one of the most useful to the natives, as it supplies many of their wants. The fruit has no rela- tion to bread in any form, and it is difficult to conceive the origin of the name. It is a large rough- rinded yellowish-green mass weighing from five to eight pounds ; this is uneatable in a raw state, but when boiled it somewhat resembles a yam. If cut into thin slices and fried in butter it is a good sub- stitute for potatoes. The milky sap of the bread- fruit tree when boiled produces an excellent pitch, which is used for smearing the seams of native ships, CH. vi. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 139 and for other purposes. The bark yields an excel- lent fibre ; the timber is durable ; thus the same tree produces several articles of much service to the native shipbuilder wood for his vessel, together with fibre to weave into sails and cordage, in addition to pitch for paying over the caulker's seams, and food for a few days' voyage. The population of Madagascar was supposed to number between four and five millions. These were divided into chiefdoms, but mainly subject to the reigning monarch. The Hovahs, who inhabited the more elevated portions of the country, are a distinct race from the negro type of the original inhabitants, and are descended from Malays, who were successful invaders many centuries ago. These people have long hair instead of the woolly heads that characterise the African races. They are also more advanced in culture. Gold and silver work, together with that of iron and other metals, has always distinguished the Hovahs as superior to the ordinary Malagasses ; they are likewise well known for their industries in silk and cotton manufactures, and for the fabrication of strong stuffs from many native fibres, principally. that yielded by the Rafia palm. Although these people exhibited a natural superiority to the inhabitants of the lower country, which was marked by the style of their buildings and their general mode of living, they were nevertheless idolaters, and sunk in the depths of superstition. The French, who had formed a station on the southern portion of the island in A.D. 1 740, had endeavoured, by missionary enterprise, to spread the seeds of Christianity, and had established 140 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. schools, which promised fairly, until the persecution of the Queen Ranavola extinguished all hopes of success. The principal commerce of Madagascar had lain with Mauritius and Bourbon, both of which import- ant .colonies were entirely dependent for their sup- plies of bullocks and sheep upon this trade. The cattle of Madagascar were celebrated for their size and strength ; thus not only were they of value for the supply of food, but they were the draught animals in general use for the transport of sugar from the numerous estates in the French and English posses- sions. The prohibition of export from Madagascar by the irascible Queen was a severe blow to the two colonies, and necessitated the purchase of supplies from the Cape of Good Hope. Mules were substi- tuted for bullocks for draught purposes ; these were obtained from Brazil, and even from the immense distance of Marseilles. Slavery was an acknowledged institution of Mada- gascar, and the supply was generally obtained from Arabs who crossed the Mozambique Channel, which is abput 240 miles in width from the mainland. It is a curious fact that from time immemorial the Arabs have been the most determined and energetic of all nations in this nefarious traffic. There can be little doubt that, long before the Portuguese commenced their adventurous expeditions, the interior of Africa was well known to the marauding Arabs who traded from Zanzibar in days that were prehistoric. The great difficulty in African research was caused through the absence of all means of transport, which com- CH. vi. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 141 pletely paralysed the attempts of European explora- tions. The Arabs, who were slave-hunters, overcame this difficulty by kidnapping slaves and converting them into beasts of burden. By these means they not only reduced the expense of their trading adven- tures, but they procured the means of conveying ivory from the distant interior to the coast, after which they sold the tired slaves for export to all slave-dealing countries, including at that time France and England (before the abolition). Such was the condition of Madagascar when Hunter and the remnant of his crew landed upon the island. As the Queen had spies throughout her territory, the arrival of these shipwrecked strangers was quickly reported, and an order was received by the hospitable chief to transmit his prisoners to head- quarters. Hunter was absolutely penniless. Although coin had no value in Madagascar, an equivalent was as necessary as money would be in a civilised com- munity. The exchange or barter by which purchases were effected in that country consisted of glass beads, mirrors, knives, scissors, muskets, powder and ball, and the usual variety of commodities that are in demand in primitive societies. The chief had seques- tered the muskets and cartridges, which were for- warded to the Queen ; but the astronomical instru- ments and the precious log-book were unmolested, as the native superstitions regarding witchcraft pre- vented them from touching articles of a mysterious nature, with which Hunter had been observed to communicate with the sun and moon. The journey to the Queen's residence had been 142 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. fatiguing in the extreme, as it had to be performed for a distance of about 350 miles on foot. Upon arrival at the court of the bloodthirsty Queen a rigid inquiry was instituted, and the party narrowly escaped with their lives. Hunter and Dick were fortunately allowed to remain together, as they passed for father and son, but the remaining five sailors were sold as slaves to various chieftainsl Both Hunter and young Downe made consider- able progress in the language during the first year of their residence ; but they were in the position of slaves to one of the principal advisers of the Queen, and worked upon his property in the manufacture of a species of flax produced from the fibres of the aloe. It was impossible for them to hold communication with the outer world, and escape appeared hopeless. The miseries of anxiety had to be endured ; the ivy- covered cottage at Greenwich, which contained all that made life dear to Hunter, rose before him in his dreams, but a cruel fate had separated him, appar- ently for ever, from wife and child. At the expira- tion of two years the Queen's adviser died, it was supposed by poison, and Hunter and his companion were sold to a chief in a northern province upon the sea border. The French were persistent in their determination to sustain their commerce in spite of the Queen's prohibition, and a vessel of war arrived at St. Anton- gil Bay, within two days' march of the estate upon which Hunter and Downe were employed. The chief to whom they belonged happened to be at St. Antongil, and being desirous of communicating with CH. vi. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 143 the French captain, he bethought himself of his white slaves, who might understand the language ; he ac- cordingly sent for Hunter, who hastened to obey the summons, accompanied by Richard Downe. Upon their arrival at the sea-port, their joy may be imagined at discovering a French frigate lying in the beautiful land-locked bay of St. Antongil. Hunter knew a little French ; but, fortunately, an officer on board understood English, and the story was soon told. The French captain at once offered a certain number of presents to procure the liberty of the two slaves, which was readily granted ; in fact the chief their master, was by no means an admirer of Rana- vola, as he had been a faithful officer of the late King Radama, and had suffered material loss from the prohibition of foreign commerce. He was therefore anxious to establish friendly relations with the French, and he agreed to discover the situations of the sailors who originally formed Hunter's party, and to bring them secretly to St. Antongil, where they should be cared for until the arrival of a future vessel. . . . . . Having been three years a prisoner upon the island, Hunter was once more free. He had been obliged to part with his astronomical instruments as they had been too weighty for conveyance through the long journeys on foot, but he had clung tena- ciously to the precious log-bdok, and the chart which would prove the position of the Sophia upon the day of her destruction. Nothing could exceed the kindness of the French captain and his officers. Clothes were supplied by them, and Hunter once more trod the deck of a fine H4 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. ship. The vessel was bound for Brest, having just returned from Bourbon and Pondicherry. The voyage to the Cape was prosperous. Hunter had been buoyed by the hope that the Sophia's boats might either have been picked up by passing ships, or that by good fortune they might have reached the land. To his deep regret, no news could be obtained by the authorities at Cape Town, and there could no longer be any doubt that the long-boat, and the little remnant of seven souls were all that remained alive of the Sophia's crew. The frigate remained at Cape Town for two days, and then proceeded upon her voyage. Hunter and Richard Downe had reported the circumstances of the Sophia's loss to the agent at Cape Town, from whom they had received an advance of money and an outfit for their return to England. There were no incidents worth relating during the voyage, and the frigate arrived safely at Brest. As Hunter was yearning for his home, he lost no time in taking a grateful leave of the captain and officers of the frigate who had befriended him, and, accompanied by Richard Downe, he engaged a passage upon an English trading brig that was bound to London, and set sail. CHAPTER VII. AFTER a long absence from England, the return is generally disappointing. When far away from home our thoughts recall the past, and scenes are conjured up by our imagination which reproduce in vivid colouring the pictures that are allied with happy associations. England is represented in our memory brightened by sunshine, but our first view of the much-loved shores is through a depressing medium of fog and drizzling rain. It was upon one of these gloomy days that the brig which contained Hunter and his companion dropped her anchor at Gravesend. They had travelled at best speed, and could not have despatched a notice of their approach that would have preceded their arrival. Hunter's mind was crowded by conflicting feelings, mingling hopes and anxieties as he neared his home from which he had been separated nearly five years. Was his loved wife alive ? The infant would be now a child of five years old, with which he must make acquaintance, as it could not know its father. With a heart throbbing with emotion he landed at Gravesend, and took a passage upon the steamer for London, which would deliver him at Greenwich. L i 4 6 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. The vessel's decks were crowded with passengers, their umbrellas dripping in showers from the light mizzling rain. The shores of the river were quite unchanged during the years of Hunter's absence ; there were the same muddy banks, and gloomy-look- ing wharves and buildings, foundries, shipwrights' yards, and factories ; there were countless vessels of all denominations, some heavily laden returned from distant lands, others on the point of sailing for foreign voyages with all the hazards of the seas before them. At last he could descry Greenwich Observa- tory through the murky atmosphere, and his heart beat quickly, as he knew that in a few more minutes the ivy-covered cottage would come into view, where all that he loved was unconscious of his near ap- proach, and must be disconsolate at his long and mysterious absence. Another bend of the river was rounded by the steamer, and the little cottage could be plainly discerned. Hunter had a small travelling- bag which contained a change of clothes, and the important log-book, to which he had tenaciously clung from the moment of the Sophia's destruction. His first duty was to rush into the arms of his wife ; and then to hurry with the log-book to his owners. The steamer touched the wharf, and Hunter sprang on shore, and hurried through the well-known streets and lanes toward his old home. It was on the hill upon the outskirts of the town. In a few minutes, breathless with his rapid strides up the steep incline, he stood at his own door. He had cast an anxious glance at the windows, but had seen no one. He rang the bell. . . . Somehow his CH. vii. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 147 usually strong nerves had become weakened, he knew not why, but his hand trembled violently as he again rang the bell after vainly waiting for a reply. He listened at the door ; he heard a sound of approach- ing feet, and of a child crying ; the child cried " Mother ! " It was no doubt his own boy, and the mother his loved wife was near. . . . The door opened. An elderly woman had attended the sum- mons. Hunter quickly entered. " Is Mrs. Hunter at home?" he asked hurriedly. A little boy of about five years old had now run into the hall. " Where is Mrs. Hunter ? " anxiously inquired Hunter. " Tell her I am here ; Captain Hunter," he exclaimed, having forgotten to announce him- self. " Captain Hunter ! " almost screamed the woman, " why he's dead and drowned surely ! Lord have mercy upon us ! come into the parlour and sit down and tell us all about it if you knew Captain Hunter, poor soul ! why that's his child, who's always crying for his mother since she's gone ; and I can't pacify him." " Gone ! " exclaimed Hunter, who, now deadly pale, trembled as though with ague. " Gone ! " . . . " Did you say the mother is gone ? . . . Gone where? . . . Is she . . . is she . . . is she d-d-dead?" gasped poor Hunter, as some unknown but anticipated misery crushed him down with an anguish that was ap- palling. "I am her husband. I am Captain Hunter," he continued, in low broken tones. " For God's sake I beseech you, my good friend, take pity upon me, and tell me the worst. Where is she ? where is my 148 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. dearly loved wife ? without her my home is blank indeed." " Oh dear, oh dear, this is a bad business, to be sure ! " sobbed the old woman. " Why, sir, you were considered dead, and she took on for a time, and went into mourning ; but a year passed by, and . . . and . . . and she's married again, only last month, and " A lie ! a lie ! " shouted Hunter, " married ! Did you dare to say that my wife has left me ? ... me ! and that child ! for another man ? impossible, never will I believe such infamy. Where is she ? tell me where, I beseech you, good woman, or I shall go mad ; where is she gone to, if alive ? but if dead, oh rather that it were death than this ; tell me the truth, I do implore you." " Poor soul, I do pity you, indeed ! " said the sympathising woman ; " and I do from my heart wish it was not true ; but so it is, as I have told you perhaps too suddenly, for I could not believe you were really Captain Hunter. She is married and gone ; and I was put here to take care of the little boy for a time by Mr. Harvey, who has been very kind, and has taken on about it uncommon, and has supplied me with all the money for expenses, and- -".'.. Hunter was turned to stone ; he did not appear to listen to this heart-breaking disclosure, but stared vacantly at the child that was regarding him in quiet curiosity. He then gently took the child within his arms and kissed its cheek. " Thank God, you can never become a woman and a deceiver ! " slowly and POOR SOUL, I DO PITY YOU. INDEED ! /. 148. CH. vii. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 149 severely murmured the heart-broken father, who fell back heavily and unconscious upon the floor. It was some time before he could be restored ; and, when his consciousness returned, his features were haggard, and ten years seemed to have gathered upon his frame. He mechanically raised himself from the sofa, and taking his small travelling-bag in his hand, he dreamily left the house, and abstractedly took the road towards London. In about an hour and a half he reached the door in Fenchurch Street, where Harvey, Graham, and Company in large letters upon the wall denoted the well-known office of his employers. Hunter opened the swing glass door, and entered the large room occupied by numerous clerks ; these he did not notice, but without regarding those whom he had known well in former years, he passed through the office to the door of the inner room belonging to the heads of the firm, and without knocking, he entered, closing the door behind him. Mr. Harvey alone was sitting before the table, and he started to his feet upon seeing the haggard and ghastly countenance of the unhappy being who had so unexpectedly appeared. "Hunter!" exclaimed Mr. Harvey, "is this indeed yourself? Thank God, you are returned to us at last ! " " Would to God that I had gone down with the Sophia!" solemnly ejaculated Hunter. "Here," con- tinued Hunter (as he unlocked the bag and produced the log-book, the cover of which was scorched by fire), " is the log - book, which I saved from the flames when she was burnt at sea ; this will secure 150 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. the amount of insurance by proving the quantity of oil on board. I saved it when there was no hope ; young Richard Downe is safe, and will be here to- night. Five of the crew are slaves in Madagascar ; beyond those, all are lost ; and I ... am disgraced ; and my home . . . desolate," slowly exclaimed the unfortunate man as he sat down upon a chair and buried his face in his hands, with his elbows resting upon his knees. . . . " Desolate ! " continued Hunter as he rose from the chair, " but take care of my boy as I have taken care of your interests. I leave you the log-book, and my child." t . . . . . . Hunter would have quitted the room, but Mr. Harvey had grasped his hand and forcibly detained him. " My dear friend, I know all your misery, and for God's sake let me console you if that is possible. My house shall be your home ; you may be desolate in heart that is beyond my power but if sympathy deeply sincere can comfort you in this sad affliction, believe and trust in me. You belong to me, and I shall not let you free ; you must accompany me home this very hour. Confide all in me as your truest friend, and this heavy cloud may yield to brighter days, but it is indeed a blow that might crush the stoutest heart." The overpowering shock of misery had frozen the source of tears, but the brotherly sympathy of his kind employer completely thawed the ice-bound heart of the unfortunate Hunter, and he gave way to a burst of anguish, overwhelmed by the agony of his pent-up emotions. CH. vii. CRUISE OF THE WHALER SOPHIA. 151 It would be painful to dwell upon this scene. The reader of this tale will have followed the few years career of a fine true-hearted sailor with sufficient interest to have wished him the happiness so well merited upon his return, and if this story were not true, it would have been cruel to have invented so undeserved a punishment to a man who had earned at least the reward of his own home. Unfortunately it is too true. When I was a child I knew Captain S n, whom I have named Hunter, and he himself told me the incidents of the voyage which I have described in these pages. Mr. Harvey was a true friend to a man who had been devoted to his service. He kept Hunter at his house, and did all that was possible to cheer him and to relieve his mind from the terrible blow he had received. Hunter's little boy was also an inmate of Oakleigh, and the sympathetic heart of Mrs, Harvey strove by a thousand kindnesses to alleviate the dis- tress of his position ; but, although Hunter received these marks of her good nature with undisguised gratitude, he was always reserved in women's society, and never recovered sufficiently from his disappoint- ment to enable him to entertain his former respect for the sex. I knew him for many years, from my childhood to manhood, and I delighted in the man and in his stories of the sea, but I never heard him allude to his wife. The child grew, and was brought up to his father's profession. Mr. Harvey's sympathy was of a truly practical nature. When time had seared the first deep gash in Hunter's heart, and he began to recover from the shock, his employer pur- 152 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE n. chased a fine vessel called the Vanguard, of which he bestowed a half share, together with the command, upon his devoted captain. This ship traded to various portions of the world, and realised a considerable fortune for her commander, who eventually purchased his employer's share and became independent. The boy assisted his father, and when I last heard of them very many years ago, they were in considerable affluence. If I were permitted to indulge in fiction I should not end this story here, but I should have continued the interest in Richard Downe, who, upon his return to his uncle's house at Oakleigh, would have found his lovely cousin grown into an age that might have reciprocated his affection, and the consequences might have resulted in their mutual happiness after the usual series of hopes and disappointment in all affairs of love. As I must adhere to facts, I confess that I know nothing more than I have related, and I have always looked back to the short history of Captain Hunter's cruise in the whaler Sophia, and his grievous affliction upon his return, as a story that affected me deeply when a boy. IIL EVERARD HARCOURT; OR, THE YOUNG CADET. CHAPTER I. ABOUT the year 1825 the chief personage in this story was a young cadet fresh from Addiscombe. He was about to sail for India to enter the military service of the Honourable East India Company. Everard Harcourt was an excellent specimen of an Englishman who combined every quality that should adorn a young man's character. Although only twenty, he was invariably respected by those of maturer age, who admired his natural charm of manner, which resulted from a frank and straight- forward nature, at once modest and sympathetic. He was not only first in all games where strength and agility were required, but he was at the same time studious, and had passed all examinations with the highest credit. His handsome and frank coun- tenance gained him friends without an introduction, as there was a sincerity of purpose and total absence of guile in his expressive features which formed a peculiar attraction. 154 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. Everard was the second son of Sir Anthony Harcourt, who had been educated for the church, and had succeeded to the title upon the death of his brother. The estate was poor ; and although the stipend attached to the living was eight hundred a year, which formed a good addition to the vicar's moderate fortune, the family was large, and the expenses of education necessarily involved strict frugality. The mansion belonging to the baronetcy was let, and Sir Anthony Harcourt had never changed his method of living since he acquired the title, but remained in the pretty vicarage of Temple- Combe, where his children had been born and bred. It was one of those lovely evenings early in July, when England appears in perfect beauty could the climate of such a day be claimed as the rule instead of the exception, no portion of the globe could com- pete with our country's charms. Everard Harcourt was standing upon an old stone bridge, looking down from the centre of its high moss-grown arch upon the rippling stream beneath. Although the river was not ten yards wide, and at the present moment it could not have been three feet deep, it was sometimes a roaring torrent when rains from the Dartmoor Hills swelled the numerous brooks which fed the stream. This sparkling water rushed over a rocky bottom in a deep dell, sheltered from winds by steep hills covered with hanging woods of oak and chestnut. About half a mile from the spot where Everard now stood, the gables of the ivy- covered vicarage could be seen, not far from the gray HOW QUICKLY THE HOURS FLY ! p. 155. CH. i. EVERARD HARCOURT. 155 church tower which rose above the trees, and formed a striking object among the massive foliage. The church clock struck seven ; the jackdaws flew out of the belfry at the startling sound. " Was that indeed seven ?" exclaimed a gentle voice very close to Everard's ear. " How quickly the hours fly ! I thought it was only five. Where will you be at this time to-morrow ? . . . I shall be here, and I shall cry for you, dear Everard, till my tears swell the brook and rush with the stream into the sea, where your ship will carry you away from me. Think of me, then, for my heart will break when you are gone, and I shall lean upon this parapet and look into the water and see only my own sad face re- flected ; yours will be far away. Oh, Everard, you must not go !" continued the beautiful girl by his side. " I would rather die than be left alone when you are gone. ... I feel that if we part we shall never meet again." Eveleyn Malcolm was a girl of about Everard's age ; her parents had always lived in the neighbour- hood, but since the husband's death the mother had removed into a smaller residence, as her eldest son had for some years been of age, and had inherited his father's property. As the families had been intimate for very many years, an affection between the beautiful Eveleyn and young Everard was a natural consequence. They had played together as children, and had uncon- sciously grown up as lovers. Often in their early childhood Everard had called her his " little wife/' and the young girl would have been stony-hearted 156 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. had she not reciprocated the true love of so earnest a character as Everard. . . . The parents had advised in vain. If there had been wealth, even upon one side only, there might have been some hope, but both were poor ; and as love is said to be stronger in pro- portion to the difficulties with which it is beset, so also in the present case the two young hearts were indissolubly united, although there was no probable chance of a happy termination. Eveleyn bent one fair elbow upon the hard stone parapet of the bridge, while tears fell from her large blue eyes ; her other arm was round the waist of her lover, and it is hardly necessary to say that his was in a similar position. In this attitude they suffered the intense agony of those who love hopelessly, but who are doomed to part upon the morrow. Every minute was precious, for it was but a second in apparent time, when hours that were fleeting too quickly were hurrying towards the dreaded moment of separation. Young Everard's face wore an expres- sion of deep anguish. " Eveleyn," he said, " if I were rich I would give you all ; if I wore a crown I would throw it before your feet ; but I have nothing except my heart, which you have had since I was a child, therefore I have none to give. I never loved but once, and that was always ; and I always shall love you, and you alone. It is a cruel fate to part ; but still I am a man, and manhood gives me hope. With your love to support me I shall start upon my career in India, and with God's help I shall succeed. There have been many in worse plight than I who have risen to fortune, and I feel that what others have CH. i. EVERARD HARCOURT. 157 done I can do. Believe me, dearest Eveleyn, when I swear that I will be true to you if you are faithful to me, that should years or a whole life separate us I will love no other, and that my hope, ambition, and prayer will be, that I may return to be worthy of you as my loved wife." It is needless to give the words of Eveleyn's reply. There was an exquisite misery mingled with sad sweetness in the moment when these two young lovers exchanged their vows of mutual fidelity. She gave him a locket containing a beautiful miniature of herself, and he placed upon her finger a ring set with a single opal of brilliant colouring. " There is a superstition connected with that stone," said Everard. "If any calamity is approach- ing the wearer, the opal loses its colours and becomes pale, like a clot of milk. I trust, dearest Eveleyn, it will remain like my love, unchangeable, and sparkle with joy upon my return, when you will become my own." . . . That evening passed away too quickly, and upon the following day at the same hour the unhappy girl was alone upon the bridge, her face buried within her white hands as she leaned upon the parapet, and added her bitter tears to the stream beneath. Eve- rard was gone; he had sailed to India upon one of the splendid vessels of the Honourable East India Company. Every evening a sylph-like figure might be seen leaning upon the parapet of that moss-grown bridge. In the privacy of solitude she kissed the cold stone upon which he had leaned upon that day of bitter 158 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. parting, when for the last time he had pressed her to his heart, and they had mingled their youthful tears together. Eveleyn was an only daughter, and her widowed mother observed with deep anxiety that she refused her food and was growing pale and thin. She no " longer took an interest in her usual occupations, but the only object that received her care was a curly- coated black retriever. This dog belonged to Everard, and he had consigned it to her protection. " Sailor" was inseparable from his young mistress ; he accom- panied her in solitary rambles through the woods, he remained by her side during meals, of which he received the larger share, and slept on a rug before her door at night. It was a consolation to Eveleyn's sorrow that she had always before her some living thing which Everard had loved, upon which she could bestow affection. Many months passed away without tidings. Whenever the wind howled at night she woke in terror, dreaming that his ship was in a storm ; but at length the postman brought a ship-letter, with a large red seal flattened by the heat of a tropical sun to a degree that obliterated the impression. It was addressed to " Eveleyn Malcolm," and it came from Everard. She was seated at the breakfast-table ; but she tore it open, and hurried to the privacy of her study, where she could devour the contents with- out interruption. She read as follows : CALCUTTA, \$th January 1826. MY DEAREST EVELEYN I have written so many letters during our long voyage, all addressed to you ; as the occupation made me CH. i. EVERARD HARCOURT. 159 imagine that you were near me, and that I was actually speaking to the one who makes me happy in my sleep when I see you in my dreams, and miserable when I awake and your dear form has vanished from me. Writing to you always seems to bring you nearer to me, although the talking is only upon my side, and I obtain no answer ; still the fancy cheers me. You will like to hear something about our voyage. There were some very good fellows on board many young, like myself, going out to join regiments, or to take posts in the Civil Service. I have made a good many friends, and I hope no enemies, although there have been a few quarrels during the five months' sojourn at sea, where people have nothing to do but to eat, drink, argue, and squabble. We had a tremendous gale in the Bay of Biscay, and carried away our fore-topsail-yard, and lost a portion of our bulwarks. When we arrived at the Cape we put in for repairs, and then came on here, touching at Ceylon, which is the most beautiful country you can con- ceive. Cocoa-nut trees fringe the shore for a hundred and fifty miles in an unbroken line, except where broad and clear rivers cut the green fringe in silvery streaks. The natives are exceedingly curious, as the men resemble women in appearance, having long black hair, which they fasten into a knot behind, and keep in position by a very large tortoise-shell comb. They are dressed in a sort of tight white petticoat, which reaches to their ankles ; a neat white short jacket and carefully ironed shirt complete the man's costume. The women dress in a similar manner, excepting the lace upon their jackets, which looks remarkably pretty. This they themselves manu- facture. On the whole the natives are good-looking, but effeminate. Their canoes are very extraordinary, as they consist of a long block of wood or tree, beautifully fashioned and scooped hollow. Planks are sewn upon either edge of the hollowed portion, so as to form a gun- wale. The seams are secured by sewing a long strip of the areca palm over the surface, which is caulked and pitched with a resin called "dammer." This is procured from several species of trees, but the best is from the bread-fruit We remained for a couple of days at Colombo, the capital. There is a large fort that was constructed by the Dutch, and a fine sheet of fresh water outside the fort upon what is termed the Galle-Face. This is a turf promenade where the races are held. The stories you may have read of "cinnamon" or " spicy breezes" from Ceylon are nonsense. I went to the cinnamon gardens, and there is no percep- tible scent unless you break a branch or crush a leaf; in fact, there is nothing whatever to admire in the cultivation of this spice, which some- what resembles a bay-tree with a very broad leaf. I was much interested with the tame elephants, which are taught to assist in various works, and are employed for moving huge stones into position, when building bridges, in road-making through the 160 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE m. interior. It is fortunate that I did not bring Sailor with me ; the climate is much too hot for English long-coated dogs, and insects swarm here. Crocodiles are also in great numbers, and I hear that a dog is almost certain to be seized should he venture into fresh water. Under these circumstances I think Sailor is lucky to be in a cool climate with a warm friend like Eveleyn to take care of him. We had excellent food while in Ceylon ; the curries are delicious, and are very superior to those of Calcutta. The difference lies in the addition of cocoa-nut cream, which is pressed from the finely-scraped cocoa-nut. There is a highly aromatic leaf which also forms an adjunct to Cingalese curry. Prawns of immense size, and excellent oysters, are to be had Tor a few pence ; while fruits of great variety, especially pine apples, are remarkably cheap. Altogether Ceylon is a charming place, and game, both large and small, abounds in the interior. I heard tempting accounts of elephant-hunting and other shooting, but our stay was too short for any attempts at such noble sport. The approach to Calcutta by the Hooghly river is exceedingly dan- gerous owing to quicksands at the entrance, and I hardly think it would be possible for an enemy to ascend the river without a pilot. Large vessels have been known to ground upon these treacherous sands, and have been entirely lost. As the tide runs out, the stranded vessel heels over, and is literally sucked down by the quicksand, so that in a few hours the ship entirely disappears. This is a horrible idea, but these dangers are the safeguard of Calcutta. You would be surprised to see this place ; it is quite unlike the picture that I had anticipated. Broad streets, good shops, large and solidly-constructed houses, give a European appearance to an Oriental city. Balls and parties are very common ; I have been to two of the former already, and danced considerably, but although all the beauty and fashion of Calcutta were present, there was not one that could have compared with a certain girl of my acquaintance at home. I wished with all my heart that you had been there, as you would have eclipsed them as the moon dims the stars. I am to be sent up to Allahabad, which is a long way inland, and I shall travel by dawk but you will not know what that means. Dawk is a postal arrangement, and you are carried in a palanquin by runners, who are engaged by the authorities. You can travel day and night, therefore you can accomplish a great distance in a comparatively short time, or about a hundred miles in twenty-four hours. The climate is quite perfection at this season of the year, therefore I shall enjoy the trip. How different this life and scene is to the quiet but dear little combe at home. I thought of you so much, dearest Eveleyn, and wondered whether you went down to the old bridge the day after I went away. I shall never forget that spot, and trust, after some years, to meet again in the same old place, when there shall be no more parting. ... Of one thing you may be certain, that I shall TH. i. EVERARD HARCOURT. 161 do my best to succeed, with only one hope that shall be my reward hereafter. I shall not be able to write again until I reach Allahabad ; but I shall expect a very long letter from you, upon several sheets of paper, that will take some time to read. With love to your mother and all friends ; pat old Sailor for me, and throw a handful of peas to the pigeons in my name, and a bit of sugar to your canary. Ever yours, etc. etc. EVERARD HARCOURT. - M CHAPTER II. A JOURNEY by dawk of 460 miles from Calcutta brought Everard to the banks of the Ganges opposite to Benares. Nothing that he had hitherto seen could compare with this interesting city, which rose abruptly from the margin of the holy river. At this spot the Ganges is about half a mile wide, and the cliffs or " ghauts " upon which the town is built are nearly a hundred feet above the water-level. Long flights of stone steps or stairs descend to below the water from numerous temples, to facilitate the bathing of crowds of pilgrims who congregate at this sacred city. The sun was shining brightly upon the walls, and the noble surface of the broad river reflected the bold and rugged outline of the incongruous shapes of innumerable houses and holy buildings, which in a quaint harmony of confusion produced a picture of Eastern architecture that was quite unrivalled. Everard was standing exactly before this scene, and, referring to his note-book, he discovered the latitude to be 25 20' north and longitude 83 east. Stepping into a ferry-boat which was towed for about a quarter of a mile up stream to allow for the action of the powerful current, he was rowed across ; the temples and other buildings increasing in pic- CH. ii. EVERARD HARCOURT. 163 turesque appearance upon his near approach. Land- ing upon the slippery steps, he ascended the long flight, and entered the streets of Benares. The illusion of beauty was at once dispelled ; dirt and holiness, which are old companions, were here closely allied. Crowds of idle pilgrims and fanatics were lying about on mats, or squatting upon the ground ; many of these were smeared with wood ashes, which gave a ghastly appearance to their features, while their wild and vacant eyes denoted the action of some narcotic ; probably "bhang," which is a preparation of the Indian hemp, and is freely indulged in by those who devote their lives to holiness. The use of this drug produces a variety of effects, according to the form of the preparation. Some persons smoke the leaves instead of tobacco ; others mix them in a certain proportion. The flower-blossoms when first expanded are dried, and treated in a similar manner with a more powerful effect, but the ne plus ultra is obtained by the use of a gum which exudes from every portion of the plant when in full bloom. This gummy ex- cretion resembles honey dew, and is collected by people clad in raw hide ; they move gently among the plantation until the gummy substance adheres in quantities to the hard surface of the dried skin ; this is scraped off with a knife, and the gum thus obtained is highly prized. A piece no larger than a pin's head, if inserted among the tobacco of a lighted pipe, will cause rapid intoxication, with curious and sometimes dangerous results. It appears to exaggerate the pro- minent feature of the individual character ; thus a person who is naturally lively will burst into im- 164 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. moderate laughter, and sit for hours smiling inco- herently, and occasionally giggling at unknown jokes which are coined by his perverted imagination. . . . Others who are naturally irascible become pugnacious and frequently lose all control of their actions, and behave as maniacs. Those who have a religious turn become enthusiasts, under the unnatural excitement of the nervous system. . . . Although the reaction of Indian hemp is not distressing to the same extent as opium, it must be prejudicial to the general health, and generally terminates by producing a dreamy or lethargic state bordering upon stupor, which, among the Hindoo fanatics, is supposed to be a sign of in- spiration. Benares, being the centre of Hindooism, afforded a grand example of the religious superstitions of the people. The population was about 600,000, of which about one tenth were Mohammedans. In the midst of the city was the celebrated mosque of Aurungzebe. This was erected upon the site of a Hindoo temple of Vishveshwar, that was purposely destroyed by the ruler to exhibit the triumph of the Moslem creed. The monkey temple was a well-known attraction at Benares. This is situated in a crowded thorough- fare of the town, and is an interesting sight to a stranger. The roofs of the houses in the immediate neighbourhood were crawling with sacred monkeys, while the courtyard of the temple resembled a mena- gerie, where several varieties either quarrelled, or chased each other -over the eaves of the buildings, or quietly munched the offerings given by the passers- by. A small donation to the priest was thankfully CH. ii. EVERARD HARCOURT. 165 accepted for the upkeep of the establishment, and the monkeys' expenses. Although the Hindoo religion abounds with in- comprehensible superstitions, there are peculiar charms in some of the observances, especially that which re- lates to the sufferings of animals. In Bombay there is an establishment upon an extensive scale devoted entirely to such creatures which either from injury or natural deformity require an asylum. The entrance is direct from the street, and the visitor is introduced to a large courtyard surrounded by stalls under cover of a broad-roofed verandah. One portion is occupied by cattle, some of which upon my visit had been maimed by accident. According to our ideas it would have been more merciful to extinguish life at once, and put the unfortunate creatures out of a last- ing misery, but the Hindoos thought otherwise. There was an immense bull, a zebu, that appeared fat and in sleek condition, I could not perceive any injury ; it was perfectly quiet when patted by a stranger ; the defect was explained by the attendant. " It had been born blind, and had been an inmate of the asylum since its birth." Other cattle had broken legs, which had been clumsily arranged by the native doctor, so that they were utterly useless and were shrivelled into deformities. One unfortunate beast had only three legs, and was evidently fatigued by standing. There was a department for dogs, nearly all of which were suffering from mange. Sick mon- keys were being carefully attended, and vast numbers of pigeons were assembled in the courtyard, attracted by the grain thrown down by pious Hindoos as offer- 166 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. ings ad libitum to the birds. . . . Close by the en- trance were several of the ash-smeared devotees who were tending butterflies with broken wings, that could not fly ; these had been picked up and carried to the general refuge, where they were carefully fed with sweets and flowers. Although the impulse was healthy, the sentiment of Hindoo indiscriminate charity was exaggerated. Every chatty or earthen jar of water was covered with fine gauze to prevent the flies from falling in, and drowning. While Everard was at Benares, he witnessed the process of cremation by which the bodies were con- sumed, and the ashes consigned to the sacred waters of the Ganges. The place set apart for this ceremony was outside the town close to the margin of the river. Numerous fires were in various stages of extinction ; some were reduced to heaps of ashes, others were still smoking, although a few embers were all that remained alight ; but one pile was only just prepared for ignition. Four iron posts were fixed in the ground about six feet distant in length, by three in width, some- what resembling the posts of an old-fashioned bed- stead. Some dry palm leaves had been arranged upon the ground ; these had been rendered more combustible by the addition of ghee or buffalo butter in considerable quantity. Upon this inflammable groundwork, logs of wood had been carefully piled. Each log was about seven feet long by four or five inches thick, and perfectly straight. As these were laid between the upright iron posts they were con- CH. ii. EVERARD HARCOURT. 167 fined in a parallel position, until the funeral pile attained a height of about four feet, and formed a kind of bed or platform of neatly-arranged poles. The body of a woman was carefully laid upon this pile. She must have been a person of some consideration, as she was enveloped in a beautiful sheet of red silk embroidered with gold. All being prepared, the relations and friends in considerable numbers advanced toward the pile. The face of the corpse was now uncovered, and each person took one last look as a sorrowful adieu. In this instance the woman's son was next of kin and chief mourner ; he was a lad of about fifteen. He had been shaved by the priests, and washed before the ceremony. A torch was placed in either hand by a priest, and thus provided, the son was led three times around the bier, while a low chant was uttered by the priest and joined in chorus by all present. This being con- cluded, the son, with his back turned toward the pile, stretched his arm backward with the lighted torch, and ignited the inflammable material beneath the wood. He did this upon each side of the bier, at the head, foot, and sides. The lad then fell back to the party of relatives, who remained about ten paces distant. The fire began to burn ; at first slowly and with considerable smoke, owing to the quantity of butter mixed with the leaves of cocoa-nut. In a few minutes the fire insidiously worked its way upward through the parallel logs, but without apparent flame, which in the bright sunlight was hardly visible. . . . Presently through the thin white smoke the lower por- tion of the red silk scarf could be seen to blacken and to i68 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. shrivel, showing that the fire had reached the nether- most parts of the body. ... A few extra poles were now carefully arranged by the attendants upon either side of the corpse, until they projected above the level of the body, which had the appearance of being contained in a hollow. The fire burned freely. The wind although light was steady, and the fuel being dry, the flames rose quickly, and soon the burning mass appeared at a white heat. The feet of the corpse fell ofT. One of the attendants with a long pair of tongs gently secured each foot, and placed it in the centre of the fire. . . . A peculiar explosion told that the head had burst, owing to the expansion of the steam within the skull ; but nothing could be seen, neither was there any smell. At the expiration of about two hours nothing re- mained but the four iron posts, and a few white ashes in the centre. Two attendants with long tongs dili- gently searched among the ashes, and discovered a few pieces of black cinder, remains of the corpse that would have been unrecognised by any person except- ing an expert in the process. These few cinders were gathered together in a small heap in the middle of the hot ashes ; an earthenware pipkin filled with ghee (butter) was tied to a long stick with cord ; this was extended until the pot rested upon the cinders ; the fire having burnt the cord, released the pipkin, which inverted its contents and promoted a fierce blaze. This additional heat concluded the operation, and reduced the charred remnants to white ashes. Absolutely nothing of the body was left that CH. IT. EVERARD HARCOURT. 169 could be distinguished from the light ashes of the wood, excepting a few delicate shreds extremely white, that must have been the remains of calcined bone. This burning had taken place in bright sunshine and a tolerably brisk breeze, therefore the extremely dry wood had been entirely consumed together with the body ; the whole mass of ashes might have been contained in an ordinary hat-box. The corpse had been completely dissipated into steam, smoke, and the finest ashes, which had been carried away in infinitesimal atoms by the wind, leaving no trace of what two hours before had been the adult body of a human being. The relatives now gathered the ashes together and carried them to the margin of the Ganges ; upon the surface of which sacred river they were religiously and sorrowfully consigned. There was nothing repulsive in this act of crema- tion, which, though simple in character, was less ap- palling than the yawning grave which receives the coffin of the European to decay in loathsome rotten- ness. The end of a human being must entail the neces- sity of removing the body in some form or other, and it is curious to observe the different customs of various nations to attain an object that at first sight appears simple. The main difficulty is caused by religious scruples, but there can be no question that cremation possesses many advantages in a sanitary point of view, and that sentiment which is merely the result of custom or fashion, need not be outraged if the 170 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. operation is delicately performed. The Hindoo cus- tom of burning would be free from all criticism pro- vided that the supply of fuel was in all cases sufficient; unfortunately this is the worst feature of the ceremony. The poor cannot always afford to purchase five or six hundred pounds weight of wood in districts where forests are scarce and fuel dear ; the body is in such cases only partially consumed, and the half-burnt flesh is committed to the river instead of the purer ashes. Fortunately the numerous fish and crocodiles of the Ganges are purifiers of its sacred waters. The Parsees, who are fire-worshippers, expose their dead to be eaten by vultures, and other carrion birds; this is a disgusting method, which must be condemned by every natural sentiment. If a body is to be eaten by vultures, it might as well be devoured by pigs or hyenas, but there is an idea that the earth should not be defiled by any portion of the human carcase after death. The birds, who are supposed to live in the air, and the vultures, whose aerial flight beyond the reach of human vision is symbolical of an ascension towards heaven, are permitted to feast upon the bodies of all ages and classes indiscriminately, as the Parsees admit that death levels all social distinctions ; the rich and the poor are alike devoured. The most important of all localities devoted to this extraordinary rite is that of Bombay, which is known by the poetical name, " The Seven Towers of Silence." There is a road from the city of Bombay which skirts the coast towards Malabar Point ; about four miles from the town an abrupt cliff rises above the CH. ii. EVERARD HARCOURT. 171 sea, covered with palms of various kinds and the foliage of other tropical vegetation. The rocks which protrude from the dark coloured soil are black basalt, so sombre in raven blackness that the blocks resemble coal. Upon the right hand when driving toward the point, a flight of broad stone stairs leads directly up the cliff through the tall palms which adorn the rugged sides. After a long ascent the summit is gained. The temple of the sun stands upon the right exactly upon the margin of the cliff. You enter a gate and are introduced to beautiful grounds well kept, as though an English garden. Broad gravel walks, beds of lovely flowers all well tended, and surmounted by very tall palm trees in great numbers, ornament the Seven Towers of Silence. The gardens comprise many acres, and, shaded by groves of palms in various positions the white towers may be observed ; these are circular ; the walls are about thirty feet high, and at first sight appear as though specially constructed for defence against an enemy. The diameter of these circular buildings is about sixty feet ; the interior is divided as follows. A small iron door is arranged as the solitary entrance. This being opened, exposes the interior. In the exact centre is a very large circular well or pit of profound depth. Around this central hole are circles increasing in size according to their remoteness from the middle point. These circles are divided into spaces for the reception of human bodies. The smaller for children, the next for women, and the outer circle for men. There is a small aperture in the wall of each tower, 172 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. and although the seven towers are not equi-distant, but are erected at irregular intervals, their positions are so arranged that the light of the sacred fire, ever burning within the temple 200 yards distant, shines directly through the insignificant opening, and sheds its sacred ray within each theatre of death. The holy fire within the temple is fed by a supply of sandal-wood, and for more than ninety years this flame has never been extinguished. About forty yards from the small door entrance to the tower is a huge slab resembling an enormous gravestone. When the funeral arrives, the body is laid down upon this flat surface, and at this point the relations and friends take their last leave of the corpse. There is a class of attendants employed expressly for the purpose of conveying the now abandoned body from the slab, to deposit it in the proper place within the tower. The tall palm trees which throw a dark shadow around the tower of silence are crowded by expectant vultures and hooded crows. As the body approaches, there is a sound of rushing wings, and a loud rustling of the disturbed palm leaves, as the noisome birds quitting their lofty posts hover around the tower, and then descend and perch upon the summit of the wall. The trees are foul with the rank excrement of these carrion birds surfeited with human flesh ; the ground stinks with their filthy refuse ; even weeds refuse to grow in such venomous earth. The body, perhaps of some beautiful young girl, is carried through the iron door, and it disappears for CH. ii. EVERARD HARCOURT. 173 ever. The attendants lay it in the circle to which it should belong ; they then remove the sheet or other covering, so that it shall be perfectly naked to attract the vultures. Hardly is time allowed for the retreat of the undertakers, when a roar of rushing wings is heard, as the flocks of many hundreds of ravenous birds pour down from every side, and tear the hapless corpse piecemeal from shred to shred. In about an hour, a clean picked skeleton is all that remains within the horrible tower. The vultures gorged, with wings half expanded in distress of surplus feed, sit lazily among the boughs, or rest upon the wall, surveying the skeleton remains of their foul ban- quet. The feast is over. The attendants re-enter the reeking circus, and, lifting the skeleton remains, convey it to the mouth of the deep pit that forms the centre. Down into the dark depth they hurl the bones of some once lovely girl, to mingle with those of poor and rich ; the beggar and the prince brought down by death to nothingness, and levelled in corruption. Powdered charcoal and quicklime are thrown in quantities down the pit, which contains the skeletons of multitudes. The wrappers which had covered the bodies, when brought into the gardens (some of which are exceedingly costly), are carried by the bearers to a small tower, where they are burned at regular intervals. No perquisites are permitted to the at- tendants, who are highly paid, and are never employed in other capacities. The Parsees represent the highest commercial in- telligence of India. Although worshippers of the sun 174 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. and fire, they profess to regard these objects simply as symbolical of the unseen and incomprehensible creator and ruler. Benares is celebrated for very beautiful designs in brass, which, from the peculiar proportions of mixed metals, almost rivals the rich colour of gold. The shapes of vases, etc., are exceedingly artistic, and the engraving is rich and delicate. Small bowls of polished brass are commonly used as drinking-cups by all classes of Hindoos. These are easily cleaned and brightened by a handful of fine mud taken from the gutter, with which they are scoured, both inside and out. Everard left this interesting city, and continued his journey to Allahabad, at the confluence of the Jumna, and the Sereswati with the Ganges, forming one of the principal cities of the vast plains of Central India, and considered by the Brahmins as most holy. Allahabad is situated in 25 27' north latitude and 81 50' east longitude, and 550 miles north-west from Calcutta. It is visited annually by crowds of pilgrims to bathe in the sacred stream. A powerful fort is erected upon the junction of the Jumna and Ganges which commands the navigation, and a con- siderable military force occupies the cantonments. The province of which Allahabad is the capital is one of the richest in India. The fertile soil pro- duces cotton, indigo, opium in large quantities, in addition to a great variety of cereals, including wheat and barley. In this central position Everard joined his regiment, the 3d Bengal cavalry, and his military career commenced. We shall accordingly take leave C1I. II. EVERARD HARCOURT. 175 of him for two years, during which he will have been studying his profession, gaining the esteem of his superior officers, and the friendship of all his fellows. His heart remained unchanged, and his letters home were rewarded at frequent intervals by replies which made his pulse throb quicker, as he broke the well-known seal, and sought for solitude to enjoy the message of her love. CHAPTER III. DURING the two years that had passed away since we left Everard with his regiment at Allahabad, a great development had taken place in his character ; from the lad of.twenty he had become a man. Since he had been thrown upon his own resources and had associated with others much older than himself, the natural features of his disposition had expanded, and he appeared both in tastes and experience to be several years in advance of his actual age. Having a natural love for the military profession, he was not content with the usual regimental routine of the can- tonments, but he had studied military history by reading the best works upon the subject, and he was thoroughly conversant with all the tactics and strategy of the old Napoleonic wars, and the various important campaigns of Europe. Wild sports in hunting dangerous game are the best possible training for the soldier. To succeed in this noble pursuit, a man must possess those qualities which are essential to a general. He must be keen, but calm ; he must have a correct eye for country, and at the same time he must thoroughly compre- hend the character of his adversary, to know the position of his haunts and the secrecy of his retreat. en. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. i;7 He must understand the nature of the animal most thoroughly in order to contend successfully with a vast superiority of physical strength, that must be matched by a master-mind. Intelligence must over- power weight of bone and muscle. A thorough sportsman should be sound in wind and limb ; sharp of hearing, and quick of sight His nervous system should be under the most perfect control, to enable him to seize an immediate advantage without an instant of irresolution or delay. In the moment of danger he should become preternaturally cool, instead of yielding to excitement The art of a stealthy approach should be reduced to a science. If a general in command of troops should be op- posed by an adversary who has a high reputation as a wild hunter, the best advice I could give him is "to sleep but little, and to keep both eyes open." Everard Harcourt had already distinguished him- self as a horseman in the exciting sport of pig-stick- ing, and had upon several occasions claimed first spear when in company with experienced sportsmen. His regiment had received orders to change quarters and to march for Jubbulpoor ; this would be in the centre of all that was most attractive to an enthusiastic hunter. The cantonments of Jubbulpoor are upon the plain, but are contiguous to a series of broken hills of dark coloured basalt, greenstone, and other plutonic rocks. The elevation above the sea-level is 1550 feet, but in the summer-time the climate is intensely hot. The town of Jubbulpoor is about three miles from canton- ments, these are beautifully arranged in broad roads N i;8 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. kept in admirable repair, and shaded by mango and other evergreen trees, which protect them from the burning sun. The large River Nerbudda is within a few miles of cantonments ; this flows through the celebrated valley of that name, and debouches upon the West Coast near Baroda. The valley of the Nerbudda is a rich black loam, which for several hundred miles is one vast sheet of waving corn. Coal-mines are also to be found in this productive valley, which may at some future time be worked with profit. Although the geological formation for many miles around Jubbulpoor is a series of interesting trap-rocks, there is a sudden and peculiar change within eleven miles of the settlement, where the Nerbudda River cuts through a range of hills composed of pure white marble. This locality has long been celebrated under the name of the " Marble Rocks," and it is the per- manent attraction of all visitors to the Central Pro- vinces of India. The Nerbudda River is an average of 200 yards in width until it meets with the impediment of a hill range. Whether the abrupt cleft is the effect of an earthquake has never been decided, but I should lean to that opinion, as the entire neighbourhood is characterised by eruptive rocks exhibiting the effects of volcanic action ; a sudden upheaval may have blocked the natural course of the river, which may have been diverted through a chasm, rent by volcanic forces through the limestone in the form of snow- white marble. The walls of this defile are not only perpendicular, but they actually overhang the water CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 179 1 20 feet below, where the hitherto broad river is confined between cliffs resembling in whiteness loaf- sugar, in a narrow channel which in some places scarcely affords space for the long oars of a boat to row clear of the threatening rocks. The water is exceedingly deep as it silently passes through this extraordinary gorge for a distance of about a mile, when it again expands into a broad stream, brawling over rushing cataracts, and again collecting in deep pools between rounded hills covered with forest trees and jungles. When rowing in a boat up stream between the overhanging marble cliffs, the effect is heightened by the brilliant plumage of numerous pea- cocks, which exhibit themselves to great advantage upon the sharp outline of the white rocks. Mon- keys in numbers gambol among the trees and leap from crag to crag, sometimes meeting with fatal accidents when failing to clutch the slippery stone, and falling into the depths below. Blue-rock pigeons build their nests in the clefts and occupy the crevices in considerable numbers where the passage is the narrowest, but in such places shooting is most dan- gerous, as it might disturb the very numerous clusters of wild bees which construct their hives in lofty places among the precipices. Long yellow stains may be perceived descending the smooth face of the white marble cliffs where the honey has trickled down. These bees are very large, and constitute a real danger from their extreme ferocity. Fatal cases have occurred when, from some disturbance, the hive has attacked en masse, and both men and animals have succumbed to the poison of their stings. During the i8o TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE HI. extreme heat of April and May, when all trees have been denuded of their leaves excepting the mango, banian, and a few others, it is highly necessary to take precautions when selecting a camping-ground within a shady tope or grove of mango trees, lest the bees nesting among the branches should be disturbed, and infuriated by the smoke of the fires upon sweep- ing and burning the dead leaves. In such cases they will make an indiscriminate attack upon men and animals, putting the whole camp to ignominious flight. . . . Although at the present day the large game of the Central Provinces has been much re- duced by the shooting of Europeans, in addition to the usual destruction by native hunters, there was at the date of this story (1828) an abundance of wild animals in the immediate neighbourhood of the Marble Rocks, where Sambur deer, the spotted Axis, bears and tigers, were sufficiently numerous to satisfy the most ardent sportsman. Even at this moment there are tigers which visit the locality periodically, and the Sambur and Axis are not extinct, although so scarce that no experienced person would visit those jungles as a hunting-ground. Everard had not been quartered long at Jubbul- poor before he organised an excursion in the neigh- bourhood. Accompanied by one friend a brother officer, Major Selwyn, who was an old shikari he commenced his preparations. Camels were sent on with tents and supplies, and the " coolasses," or tent- pitchers, were ordered to select a grove of lofty mango trees, while servants were instructed to have the camp in perfect readiness. en. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 181 Indian servants are the best travellers, as they are thoroughly accustomed to tent life, and to the arrangements necessary for camping. Although, when confined to the daily routine of a household, they may be apathetic, they appear to wake up to their duties upon the commencement of a jungle shooting trip, and endeavour to excel. There is no particular benefit in being uncomfortable, and al- though a good sportsman should consider luxury as very secondary to the prime object of his expedition, he may remember that in a trying climate his health will be more likely to endure if he takes precautions to ensure it, and that, should his health break down, his sport is ended ; accordingly, if he can afford to travel comfortably, by all means let him do so. The tents are the first consideration. These were double fly, with five cloths in the roof, single pole, fourteen feet square. Two were sent on as a double set ; one would always be forwarded in advance, to be set up and ready upon arrival when the last camp should be struck. Two good shooting elephants with howdahs were prepared, and a couple of travelling elephants which marched at the rate of five miles an hour. Rifles were in those days very inferior weapons to the inventions of modern times. A double- barrelled No. 1 2, with a spherical ball, was considered to be a trusty companion for large-game shooting. This would be loaded with the small charge of two and a half, or at the most three, drams of powder ; the same bore of rifle would now be loaded with seven or eight drams, which, with a heavier elongated 182 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. bullet, would produce a weapon of treble power in velocity and striking energy. Our two hunters were armed in precisely the same fashion ; each possessed a No. 1 2 double rifle, and a smooth-bore (for shot) of the same number which would carry the rifle spherical bullet, if required, for close quarters. This arrangement possessed the great advantage of con- fining the ammunition to only one calibre. All the servants and animals had started on the previous morning with the tents and baggage fora spot about twenty miles distant from Jubbulpoor. Upon the arrival of Everard and his companion, the gleam of white tents in the dark shade of a mango tope was a delightful sign in the distance that they were within sight of their shooting-ground. The camp had been swept clear of leaves, the tents were pitched, the headman of the district was present, according to instructions received from the authorities, and every necessary arrangement had been perfected. It was a lovely spot for an encampment. A grove of about a hundred large mango trees the size of park-timber in England, produced a shade for the tents and people, while at the same time the elephants and camels enjoyed the comparatively cool retreat, and feasted upon a pile of fresh green boughs col- lected by their coolies. Close to the border of this grove, a small river, tributary to the Nerbudda, flowed between steep banks about thirty feet below the level of the country. The water was beautifully clear, although shallow ; and as it rippled over a stony bottom it fell rushing over larger rocks into a deep pool, where the fish were rising at the insects which CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 183 fell from the overhanging bushes. Rocky hills covered with forest, rose upon the opposite margin of the river, and beautiful glades stretched between these eminences, forming gentle inclinations draining to- wards the stream. It was the perfection of ground for game, as it combined covert, pasturage, and water, which at this dry period of the year was exceedingly scarce throughout the district; all the inferior brooks having long since been evaporated by. the scorching wind. The Tesseldar, or headman of the neighbourhood, gave encouraging accounts of tigers, " one of which had killed a native bullock only a few days before the arrival of the baggage ; a well-known man-eater infested a small village some miles distant, and the jungles swarmed with sambur, axis (spotted deer), pigs, and nilghye." . . . "Allow at least one-half for exaggeration," exclaimed the experienced Major Selwyn ; " these fellows always think it necessary to meet you with a pleasant story ; but, in spite of some high colouring, we shall no doubt find employment for our rifles. The tigers must have our first atten- tion before we disturb the country by firing at other game, and we must lose no time in making the necessary preparations." . . . Selwyn gave instruc- tions to the Tesseldar that a buffalo about three parts grown should be tied up near the spot where the tiger had killed the native bullock ; but the animal was to be brought without delay to be examined before purchase, as it would be necessary that it should be plump and in good condition. This is a very im- portant consideration, as a tiger will frequently de- cline to attack a thin sickly buffalo, which the natives 184 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. would probably offer to the English sportsman at the high price of a healthy animal, unless it should be examined beforehand. A fine young buffalo about twelve months old was brought to Major Selwyn on approval, and was purchased for twelve rupees. This animal was led by several shikaris and the native owner to a spot about a mile and a half distant from the camp, where a deep but narrow ravine cleft a small hill covered with thick jungle. In the sudden bend of the ravine, which was about thirty feet below the general level of the surface, a small pool of water still remained, although the bed of the insignificant stream was per- fectly dry. There was a little plot of green turf upon a slope of sandy loam just above, and close to the pool. This was the only clear space, as the steep sides of the banks were covered with dense scrub, while the narrow bottom was overhung with creepers and tangled bushes. Some dry shrivelled hide and a few large bones were strewed upon the turf near the water's edge. Upon the bank of damp sand below the turf, from which the pool had receded through evaporation, was an impression as though a soft but heavy weight had reclined within the last few hours ; this was the spot where the tiger had laid up after having killed and dragged the native bullock to its den among the thorns and jungle. It was nearly sunset before the buffalo was secured by a strong rope to a stake driven in the ground, upon the higher level, a few yards distant from the edge of the ravine. en. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 185 It was arranged by Sehvyn that a hundred and twenty men should be held in readiness upon the following morning to act as beaters, if the tiger should carry off the buffalo during the night. This is the most certain method of discovering a tiger during the dry season when the streams and tanks are generally exhausted, as the animal, being naturally thirsty, is forced to the neighbourhood of water. If the tied buffalo is attacked during the night, the tiger is certain to drag the carcase into some spot difficult of access, and not far from water ; there it will consume as much flesh as it may desire for the first meal, it will then drink, after which the tiger will withdraw not far distant, and will generally sleep until appetite returns to tempt a renewal of the feast. As the tiger will most probably be hiding within a couple of hundred yards of the carcase, it may generally be started by a long line of beaters, and may be driven toward the guns, which would be posted in positions well known to the natives as the favourite runs of the animal when disturbed. Tigers will haunt certain localities for many years, sometimes dis- appearing, and returning at particular seasons with curious regularity ; they are accordingly recognised by the natives as habitual visitors, and the routes of their retreats are thoroughly understood by the villagers. The night arrived. A certain number of shikaris had been instructed to proceed at daybreak to the spot where the buffalo had been secured, and to hasten to camp with the news should it have been carried off by the tiger ; in which case the beaters i86 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. would be prepared and the elephants ready for a drive . . . The morning broke. Hardly had the first rays of golden light streaked the horizon, when the shikaris returned in considerable excitement the buffalo was gone ! The rope of attachment was gnawed through, and the heavy carcase had been dragged along the dusty ground toward the deep ravine ; the shikaris could see no more in the dim twilight, and they had hastened with the news. " Saddle the elephants ! call the beaters !" shouted Selwyn, who from his age and experience was ac- knowledged as the leader. In a short time the beaters were assembled to the number of one hundred and twenty ; a captain was appointed over every ten men, who was responsi- ble for keeping them in line. The elephants were mounted, and the large party moved off in silence, led by the shikari guides, to the spot where the buffalo had been killed. Upon reaching the place, a broad track was im- mediately discernible where the carcase of the buffalo had been dragged by the tiger along the ground. The shikaris now beckoned to the mahouts, and as the elephants approached, it was arranged that the guns should dismount and follow the guides silently, in the expectation of finding the tiger upon the body of his recent victim. It was explained that the tiger was exceedingly cunning, and that should he obtain the wind of the elephants, he would be warned by their strong scent, and nothing would induce him to expose himself. Accordingly the mahouts were in- CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 187 structed to take their animals about a quarter of a mile to the rear, and to be ready at a given signal a loud whistle should they be required. The elephants retreated, and the two guns fol- lowed the leading shikari upon the fresh tracks of the drag. This terminated about fifty yards distant, at the abrupt edge of the ravine, where the carcase had evidently been tumbled over the precipitous bank, for upon looking carefully below, the route could be plainly seen where the weighty body had torn away the brambles in its descent ; but no trace could be discerned, excepting the confused position of the thick bushes which appeared to have been disturbed. The head shikari was, like many of his class, a fearless hunter, and, proud of his knowledge of such game, he suggested that they should descend by an easier path, and endeavour to discover the carcase of the buffalo, as by an examination he should be able to prognosticate the probable movements of the tiger. It is a curious feeling of calm excitement when creeping through tangled jungle upon the fresh tracks of a tiger, and you feel certain that it must be some- where in the immediate neighbourhood. Selwyn, as the older and experienced hunter, was leading the way at the heels of the advanced shikari, while Everard closely followed. Two trustworthy bearers carried their spare guns. Upon arrival at the dry stream-bed below, they first examined the sandbank and turf mound close to the small pool ; here were unmistakable tracks of two tigers, one of which, from its immense size, was the male. It was therefore admitted that a tiger and i88 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. tigress were in company. Following the stream- bed with extreme caution, they arrived at the place where the buffalo had fallen to the bottom. There could be no doubt that two tigers had assisted in dragging the carcase through the thick jungle, as their tracks were plainly distinguished wherever a sandy plot among the rocks permitted an impression. The leading shikari now stopped and listened ; he was only armed with a short spear about six feet in length. No sound being audible, he again advanced, part- ing each bough most carefully to avoid the slightest noise, and treading as gently as a falling leaf. Every time that the boots of the English followers made a sound upon the rocky bottom, he turned his head reproachfully to enjoin the greatest caution. Al- ternately stopping for a few moments to listen, and again proceeding, they had advanced about a hundred yards along the precipitous and narrow gorge, which now almost closed above them owing to the abrupt- ness of the cliffs, and the density of the overhanging branches. There was a sudden turn in the ravine, and the party were still advancing in their stealthy manner through the yielding bushes when they were startled by a short but tremendous roar within a few feet of the leading shikari, accompanied by a rush through the impervious jungle. For an instant the shikari jumped upon one side, at the same time bringing his spear to the charge, while Selwyn's rifle was instinctively brought to his shoulder to meet the attack. All was again silent. After a few moments of suspense the shikari CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 189 again advanced, this time with little caution, and within ten yards he came upon the remains of the dead buffalo, from which the two tigers had just retreated. The bufTalo had evidently been killed early in the morning, as only a portion of the hind quarters was eaten, and the tigers had been disturbed at their meal before their appetites had been half satisfied. The shikari was of opinion that they would not abandon their prey, as no shot had been fired, and they had been only scared by the scent of the party, and the slight noise of their advance. A tiger will seldom wander to any great distance from its victim, as it is perfectly aware that vultures and jackals will leave nothing but the tough skin and bones, should the remains be left unguarded. It was accordingly arranged that the guns should be posted in convenient positions, and that the jungle should be driven by the beaters. The party returned by the same route of their advance, and were not sorry to find themselves once more upon an open space in the bright day, instead of the dense con- fusion of tangled jungle. The little army of beaters was now left to the charge of one of the village shikaris, while the head- man guided the two Englishmen to their allotted positions about a mile distant. Two convenient stations had been hastily ar- ranged about a hundred and fifty yards apart, which would intercept the retreat of the tigers when the jungle should be driven. The first position was a large tree which over- hung a nullah, or deep dry watercourse, which de- 190 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE m. scended from a wooded range of exceedingly broken hills, as it was expected that the tigers would cer- tainly make for that impenetrable fastness when forced to retreat before the advancing line of beaters. Major Selwyn climbed the tree, and was soon en- sconced in a kind of gigantic bird's nest formed of poles and branches strongly interlaced, and bound together with the twisted bark of a species of mimosa. Although to the ideas of some who are accus- tomed to meet the most dangerous game on foot, it might appear unmanly to be perched out of harm's way among the lofty branches, it should be remem- bered that the jungle is so dense that an object only a few paces distant can hardly be observed ; it is therefore an advantage to be in an elevated position, from which everything can be distinctly seen. Many tigers escape when fired at, owing to the deflection of the bullet when cutting through innumerable twigs that intervene across the line of flight. If a person remains on foot, a tiger will generally obtain his wind, and may sneak away without coming into view, or it might creep along the bottom of a nullah without being perceived, and thus pass scatheless. Some persons prefer to remain withia the howdah upon the back of a well-trained elephant ; but when a tiger is being driven before the line of beaters it is exceedingly cautious, and advances slowly, occasionally halting to listen, or to look around in search of an expected enemy. In such cases the scent of an elephant is almost sure to be detected ; and the noise of the elephant's ears, CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 191 which are continually flapping, or the peculiar gut- tural sound emitted when it cools its flanks by blow- ing from the trunk, are warnings that would certainly scare a wary tiger. On the whole, therefore, the most certain method of killing a cunning tiger is to occupy a " mucharn," which is the name given to these special constructions for shooting. Major Selwyn was already located in his mucharn, and Everard was conducted through the jungle to a similar arrangement in a large tree which commanded the junction of two deep nullahs. These formed a letter Y when united in the main channel. As the two dry watercourses descended from the hills, it was highly probable that the tiger might adopt the main nullah as his course of retreat towards the rocky and jungle-covered range. Before Everard ascended to his hunting-nest, he trimmed off with his knife a few bushes which over- hung the nullah. Having thus cleared the view, he climbed the tree with some little difficulty, and took his seat. The shikaris departed, and returned to the dis- tant beaters, who were waiting for orders to advance. Everard was now alone, about sixteen feet above the ground. From this position he looked exactly into the two nullahs on the right and left below him, and straight before him into the main channel by which the tiger was expected to arrive. There could not have been a more favourable post. The rough branches hurt his knees, he therefore cut an armful of small green boughs ; as this was a bo-tree and in full foliage ; with these he arranged a more comfort- 192 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. able bedding, upon which he was soon settled at his ease. As all trees had shed their leaves owing to the extreme dry heat, excepting the banian, bo, and mango, the ground was completely covered, and the crispness of the withered leaves was such that nothing could move upon them without producing a loud noise. This peculiar condition of the season rendered shooting upon foot utterly impossible, as the crunching of the brittle leaves in such deep masses would have been heard at a great distance, and would effectually scare away all wild animals. Everard now sat upon his perch, occasionally kneel- ing up cautiously to obtain a clearer view of the sur- roundings. He listened attentively. The cooing of countless doves was most perplexing, as it sounded like the distant shouts of beaters. He had looked at his watch when the shikari had departed, and he knew that twenty minutes must be allowed for his return to the beaters ; another ten must elapse before any animal could be expected to appear ; thus he might remain for half an hour in ex- pectation. Suddenly he heard a peculiar noise, sharp and regular upon the crisp leaves beneath ; this was a tiny black-striped squirrel leaping along the ground. If so small a creature produced so loud a rustling, the footstep of a tiger would be unmistakable. In a few minutes his ear was attracted by another sound. A quick firm tread combined with a bustling among the dead leaves ; and he perceived a jungle hen with four half -grown chickens scratching the ground in search of food ; presently they passed on CH. nr. EVERARD HARCOURT. 193 and disappeared. Several times jungle-fowl passed beneath his tree; but now a heavier and more decided tread was heard proceeding from the rising ground on the opposite side of the ravine ; the tread ap- proached nearer. He knelt up and cocked his rifle in anxious preparation. ... A fine peacock with gaudy tail appeared, and suddenly flew up into the boughs of a large tree within fifteen yards of his position. This was a compliment to his hiding-place, as that most wary of birds, the peacock, had not dis- covered him. From time to time several pea-fowl passed beneath, and he became accustomed to the peculiar sound of their tread. He looked at his watch ; twenty-five minutes had passed away. He strained his ears to catch a sound, but the ceaseless cooing of the doves confused all others ; he wished there were no such useless birds as doves : confound them ! Again he strained his ears. That was a shout, surely ! hark again ? Certainly those distant sounds were human voices? " Tum-tum-tum ; tum-tum- tum." . . . That was a tom-tom decidedly! the beaters had started. Everard now watched on all sides attentively. In a few more minutes the shouts of the long line of beaters had increased, while several tom-toms beating noisily added to the approaching din. . . . Again quick footsteps were heard upon the crackling leaves, and the shy peacocks hurried forward at the still distant shouts of beaters ; these birds are the first to fly from the coming danger. Now a new and much louder rush was heard, and a small species of deer, O 194 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE m. known as the jungle sheep, dashed madly past as though disturbed by some other animal. No shot had been heard from Selwyn, therefore the tigers must be still between the beaters and the occupied positions. Thirty-five minutes had passed away, and yet no sign. Everard began to fear that the wary animals might have stolen away in some other direction by an unsuspected nullah . . . What was that noise ? . . . Again the parched leaves crunched with a dull heavy tread ! . . . He listened earnestly. Once more a peculiar sound was heard, as though a soft, but heavy foot was slowly and stealthily pressed upon the leaves. Nothing could be seen, although his eyes penetrated through all directions. . . . There it was again ! That was no peacock, or deer ; that was the wary footstep of a tiger ; but where ? Everard's eyes had searched the ravines in vain ; his ears tingled with extreme tension, as he could not determine the spot from which the sound proceeded. Another louder crunch among the withered leaves directed his attention, not to the deep nullahs where the tiger had been expected, but to the rising ground upon the opposite side. He could hardly believe his eyes ! There, as though conjured up suddenly by magic, stood the dim form of an enormous tiger, ghost-like in the absence of outline, as seen through the medium of countless bare branches of intervening jungle. His hands grasped the rifle ; but he carefully observed the movements of the animal. It halted, and turning its head towards the sound of the advanc- CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 195 ing beaters, it listened for some seconds. . . . Again it stealthily stepped forward, placing each foot slowly and gently upon the traitorous ground, which defied all secrecy. The tiger was thus stealing cautiously away from the approaching danger, and quite un- conscious of the eager gaze and ready rifle now following its movements within forty yards' distance. Everard's head was cool ; he knew that it would be a hazard to risk a shot through the numerous branches, which, though small, would intercept the bullet ; he observed with instinctive quickness that a small open space existed about twenty yards in front of the tiger, which some large tree must have formerly occupied, now long since fallen and decayed. Ac- cording to the present movements of the animal, it would cross this vacant opening unless scared from its direct course. There was a large and peculiar evergreen bush of extreme density which grew at the exact edge of this open space ; the tiger would have to pass this dark mass of foliage, and would then emerge suddenly into the clear space, which was about four yards wide. Everard was determined to reserve his fire until he could obtain an uninterrupted aim. Again the tiger stopped, and listened. The shouts were growing louder; for a moment Everard was afraid that the tiger would swerve from the direct course, as it turned half round ; but to his joy it once more resumed its path, and disappeared from view behind the dark green clump. Everard was now kneeling, his rifle half raised, and his finger on the trigger in anxious anticipation. The tiger was evi- 196 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE m. dently listening once more, behind the dense screen, as it did not move. Suddenly, but without sound, a magnificent black- striped head emerged from behind the thick bush into the bright sunlight, and slowly the form of an immense male tiger moved forward into the open space. As the head appeared, Everard had quietly raised his rifle to his shoulder, and waited for a few seconds, until as the tiger stepped slowly on, he took the sight exactly in a line with the foreleg, and aimed at the centre of the shoulder. . . . He fired ! The tiger started upon its hind legs, rearing to its full height, and with tremendous roars which rang in terrible notes through the forest, it fell backwards and rolled in several convulsive struggles beneath the dark green bush, where after a series of loud growls which gradually relapsed into deep but low groans, it lay extended with its massive head beneath the shade of the evergreen ; its tail stretched in a long line down the inclining ground. There was a thrill of satisfaction through Everard's frame ; the tiger was dead, and he was about to raise a loud whistle upon his fingers as a signal, when two shots in quick succession were heard from the posi- tion occupied by Major Selwyn. " That must be the tigress," thought Everard, " Selwyn is certain not to miss her." Thus considering in his mind, he clambered down the tree, with his rifle slung across his shoulders. He first crossed the ravine, and holding his rifle on the ready, he threw two or three clods of dried earth at the prostrate tiger to make certain that life was CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 197 extinct. No movement responded to the insult ; he approached without hesitation, and admired the massive frame and wonderful muscular development, so utterly unlike the long, lithe animals that repre- sent the tigers of zoological collections. Half a minute later, he was hurrying towards the station of his companion. " Take care ! " shouted Selwyn, as he observed his approach ; " she's badly hit, and has rolled into those thick bushes. Don't go too near, but come up here until the beaters arrive ; we must have the elephants to drive her out." Nine accidents out often occur when animals have been wounded. It is impossible to be too careful in approaching a wounded beast; the tiger, lion, leopard, bear, or buffalo, that would have retreated when fresh, will assuredly attack if followed up when wounded. Selwyn as an experienced sportsman was perfectly right in his advice, as the jungle into which the wounded tigress had retreated was so dense as to be practically impenetrable. Everard, on the other hand, who was flushed with his easy triumph, disdained the security of the mucharn, and remained below, await- ing the arrival of the beaters. An ominous silence had succeeded the rifle shots, the cries of the beaters had immediately ceased, as they knew that the game had gone ahead, and that the drive had been success- ful ; they were now hurrying towards the guns. In a very short time anxious faces could be seen approaching, and it was quickly explained that one tiger was dead, while the other was severely wounded and concealed within the thick bush. A great num- 198 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE HI. her of men were quickly assembled, and orders were given that a messenger should be despatched to summon the two elephants. In the meantime one of the shikaris ascended a tree within the thick jungle, and shouted to the others, "that he could see the tigress lying dead!" A village shikari, who wished to exhibit his superior courage, collected several large stones, and advancing to the edge of the dense bush, threw one into the direction suggested by the man within the tree, who actually saw, or thought he saw, the tigress. No response was made to the first stone. Another was thrown with the same passive result. The tigress was de- clared to be dead, and the man forced his way into the jungle. Almost at the same moment a terrific roar was heard, and the tigress with one bound was upon him ! Seizing the unfortunate man by the throat, she dragged him into the impervious thicket, where a succession of cruel roars and growls showed that she was tearing him to pieces. . . . This had happened so instan- taneously and unexpectedly that it had been im- possible to render the slightest assistance. It was an agonising moment, but hardly had the reality of the terrible event been impressed upon the bystanders, when Everard, without a moment's hesitation, rushed to the spot, and. throwing himself upon all fours, crept into the thorny jungle upon the track where the tigress had disappeared with her victim. With his rifle cocked and ready, he lay flat beneath the bushes, and crept forward with caution but cool determina- tion. He was not aware that the courageous shikari, CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 199 armed only with his short spear, had followed close behind him, and was creeping upon his hands and knees literally at his heels. A smothered cry from the native, mingled with the growls of the tigress, hurried the advance of Everard, who in a few seconds had crept within view of the disastrous scene. Lying down upon his belly, he distinctly saw the tigress holding the man by the back of his neck as she crouched upon the ground by his side; she was about four or five yards distant, and appeared to have given her whole attention to the destruction of her victim. Everard was in a distressing position. If he knelt, he could not see the tigress through the dense thicket sufficiently well to ensure a fatal shot; if he remained prostrate, there would be a difficulty in taking aim, as the body of the man was dangerously exposed to his bullet. There was little time for consideration, the tigress suddenly discovered the approach of her new enemies, and without relaxing her grip of the neck, she changed her position and faced the coming attack ; at that instant with a cool and steady aim Everard fired, hoping to reach the heart by striking her a little to the left in a line with her chin, as she crouched upon the ground. His bullet must have passed within an inch of the native's head, as the tigress pinned his neck firmly to the ground. At the report of the rifle, in the cloud of smoke (which being close to the earth in the thick jungle completely obscured the view), the tigress had bounded forward ; Everard felt a heavy weight upon his legs, only for one moment, as he rolled quickly upon his 200 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. side beneath the bushes, and then immediately sprang upon his feet! For an instant he turned round, being ready with his remaining barrel to meet the unknown danger, when through the clearing smoke he saw the body of the tigress at his feet, with the spear of the shikari buried at least three feet deep in her breast. . . . The shikari was still holding the shaft of his weapon as he knelt upon the ground. The tigress was quite dead. Everard's bullet had passed through her heart, but her convulsive spring had carried her beyond his body as he laid close to the earth, and she had been fatally received upon the projected spear of the trusty shikari who had brought his weapon to the ready on the same instant that he had observed Everard prepared to fire. She had completely im- paled herself, and the spear had passed through heart and lungs. The first impulse was to rescue the unfortunate native, whose body was now dragged from the thick bushes. Life was quite extinct ; the bone of the neck had been dislocated by the wrench of the tigress's powerful jaws : deep gashes inflicted by the claws had cut the side of the head and face to the bone, and a pool of blood was discovered where the tigress had first dragged the body. This disaster threw a gloom over an otherwise successful day. "Bravo, Everard, I never saw a more plucky thing in the whole of my experience ! " ex- claimed Major Selwyn, who had descended from his mucharn with the best intentions, but too late to render assistance, as the affair had been of only a few moments' duration. CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 201 " It was the beater's own fault, poor fellow ; I told you that we ought to wait for the elephants, and never attempt to disturb a wounded tiger in thick jungle. This will be a lesson you will never forget. You did splendidly, my dear Everard, and you were most pluckily backed up by that fine fellow the shikari ; but never run such a risk again, or you'll tempt Providence once too often." A number of beaters now dragged the body of the tigress into an open space. The elephants arrived, and the tigress was hoisted upon the back with con- siderable difficulty, the howdah being removed from the kneeling animal to enable it to pack securely upon the pad. A party of men had been despatched to the nearest village to procure a charpoy or bed- stead, upon which the corpse of the native could be conveyed to camp. In the course of half an hour the triumphant but funereal procession started, two elephants transport- ing the dead tigers, and a number of natives carrying the body of the mangled beater. The arrival at camp was sufficiently painful. The wife and children of the dead native had rushed down to meet the body, and were loud in their lamentations. The widow threw herself at the feet of Major Selwyn as the senior of the party, and covered herself with dust in token of despair. Fifty rupees were counted without delay, and pressed upon the widow for the expenses of the burial ceremony. This somewhat alleviated her misery ; another ten were added, which had a visible effect. Each of the children received a present in money, and the family retired with the 202 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE HI. corpse to their village, envied by the multitude for their sudden access of riches. The shikari who had so ably supported Everard was not forgotten, and a present of ten rupees in the presence of his brother shikaris and the whole village made him a proud and happy man. The skins of the two tigers were neatly stretched under the shade of a mango tree, and were well cleaned of all adhering flesh and fat ; they were then smeared with arsenical soap, especially about the lips, and the pads of the paws, which are the first portions to exhibit decomposition. The mustachios were care- fully extracted and preserved, otherwise they would have been immediately stolen by the natives, who consider them infallible as charms, and believe that if worn upon the person they will protect the wearer from the attacks of tigers. A male tiger will average about five hundred pounds in weight, although some may exceed this. It may readily be imagined that the muscular power of any animal belonging to the genus Felis of this weight must be enormous, as the momentum of its spring combined with the blow from its forepaw, and the twist given by a wrench from the jaws when seizing at full bound, are sufficient to dislocate the neck of a buffalo. The power of the tiger is then displayed in dragging an animal heavier than itself over roots of trees, projecting rocks, and other seri- ous impedimenta to a great distance with apparent ease. The length of tigers is generally exaggerated in descriptions of this animal. Nine feet six inches en. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 203 would be a very large specimen, although skins are frequently met with which measure ten feet, or even more. These give no true idea of the natural life- size, as they have been stretched entirely out of shape, being longer and narrower than the original. It would be easy to stretch a hide from a tiger just killed, to twelve feet, but this would be done at the expense of the breadth, and would give no idea of the true proportions of the animal. A tiger in its natural state is a very massive beast, with broad shoulders and hindquarters ; this heavy frame pre- vents it from ascending trees like the leopard, thus a " mucharn " or hunting-box fifteen or sixteen feet from the ground affords perfect security. There were no other tigers in this locality, there- fore it was proposed that the camp should be moved to the village that was infested by a man-eater about fifteen miles distant. The weather was intensely hot ; the wind blew with a scorching heat as though it had passed over a brick-kiln, and had it not been for the well-watered tattas of sweet-scented kuscos root, the tent would have been unbearable. This fragrant root of the kuscos grass is exceedingly tough and long in fibre ; it is therefore used for screens, which are fitted upon frames into the doorways of the tent, and are kept constantly watered throughout the day. The strong, but hot wind causes rapid evaporation, and produces a cool and pleasant draught. Orders were given to the tent-pitchers to start that afternoon with a guide, and to have the tent ready for their arrival on the following morning at 204 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. the most convenient spot in the neighbourhood of the man-eater's haunts. A bathe in the stream was a good preparation for dinner ; after which the camp beds were arranged in a clear open space away from all trees, and both Everard and his companion were quickly asleep. The precaution of sleeping in the open is highly necessary, as snakes and scorpions or other noxious creatures might fall during the night from the overhanging boughs upon the bed of the unconscious sleeper. At five o'clock the next morning the elephants were ready for the journey of fifteen miles. A mode- rate-sized female named " Demoiselle," was arranged for Everard and Selwyn and two servants. The most comfortable saddle is that which forms a kind of oblong sofa with an iron rail at either end, and a foot- board upon either side. Four persons ride with ease upon this arrangement, sitting two together, and back to back, while at the ends they are protected by the rail. A good elephant will travel six miles an hour upon a road, or five, miles across country. The morning's march was through a succession of open glades, passing between hills covered with forest. Numerous small villages were passed, in the neigh- bourhood of which there was considerable cultivation, wheat, barley, and maize having been reaped about a month before. The fifteen miles were accomplished in a little more than three hours, and they arrived at a grove of trees near a small village of iron-smelters. The tent was in readiness, and the space throughout the tope or grove had been neatly swept by the en. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 205 villagers, many of whom, together with their headman, were already assembled in expectation of the welcome hunters, who should rid them of the man-eater. A cup of hot coffee is always refreshing after the morning's march ; this had been prepared by the ready servants, and was followed by a pipe, while news of the tiger was eagerly discussed. This neigh- bourhood was rich in hematite iron ore, and for many generations the operation of smelting had been carried on by the small but industrious population. In wit- ness of the antiquity of this business, huge mounds of scoriae were overgrown with forest trees, while tumuli of all sizes and ages of the same refuse were to be seen heaped in confusion around the village, all of which were covered with low jungle. The iron ore was dug about a mile distant from the village, and was conveyed in panniers upon the backs of oxen to the smelting-furnaces. These were of the most primitive construction, formed of clay, and were ar- ranged in long rows, while each separate fire was worked by hand-bellows, that entailed great labour and dexterity to raise the blast sufficient for the purpose. The ore was reduced to small lumps, and was mixed with pounded limestone to produce a flux; this was arranged in alternate layers of charcoal ; the bellows, kept up by a succession of reliefs, were sufficiently powerful to keep the mass at a white heat, until the molten metal found its way to the bottom of the furnace. As each furnace was limited in its power of production to about thirty pounds of iron per day, the cost would have been excessive had the labour been calculated in wages ; but as the 206 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. natives did not value their time, and simply worked as their ancestors had worked before them, they never troubled themselves with difficult calculations. The iron was of fine quality, and was sold throughout the district for the manufacture of hoes, reaping knives, bill-hooks, etc. The women were generally employed in burning charcoal for the supply of the furnaces, and while engaged in cutting wood and conveying it from the jungles for this purpose, many had been intercepted, and had fallen victims to the man-eating tiger. This animal had become so wary from continual practice in its depredations, that it never attacked twice consecutively in the same quarter ; it was there- fore difficult to discover, and had always evaded the hunters who had attempted its destruction. It had killed and eaten a woman about a fortnight before within only a few yards' distance of her hut, to which she was returning with a faggot of wood from the neighbouring jungle. It was useless to attempt the usual method of tying up a buffalo for bait, as the man-eater was too cunning to be thus tempted. When a tiger has become a recognised " man-eater," it generally prefers human flesh to any other, and it seldom attacks cattle or wild game, as the human being is so much easier to kill and carry off. This tiger, which was now the object of pursuit, inhabited a large tract of country, and was the scourge of the numerous villages through- out a considerable area. It was supposed that it had killed at least thirty people every year ; these were generally women and children, although many men CH. HI. EVERARD HARCOURT. 207 had been included among its victims . . . Two days had been passed by Everard and Selwyn in vain search throughout the neighbouring jungles ; they had discovered the skull and a few of the larger bones of the woman who had been recently carried off, but there were no signs of the tiger, which had apparently quitted the vicinity. They were sit- ting one evening at dinner discussing the probable chances of failure, when a servant announced the arrival of the headman with pressing intelligence. Permission being immediately granted, the mes- senger entered the tent, and after the usual salaam, he hurriedly informed his hearers that a native had arrived from a village about six miles distant, with the news that a woman had been carried off that same afternoon by the well-known tiger, which had sprung into the midst of a party who were returning from their work in the fields. This was startling intelligence, which admitted of no delay. Orders were at once given that the elephants were to be ready before daybreak on the next morning. The native was cross-examined, and his testimony being straightforward, there could be no doubt of the truth of his report ; he was therefore retained as a guide, while the headman was requested to gather as many people as possible to serve as beaters, should the whereabouts of the tiger be discovered. At a little before five on the following morning the party started. The two trained shikari elephants were carefully prepared, the thick cotton ropes which girthed the howdahs were hauled as tight as possible, to prevent accidents in the event of an extra strain 208 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE m. upon the fittings, should the elephant over-exert itself in an encounter with the tiger. A stock of fire- works including crackers and bombs, were placed in the box beneath the howdah seat. A jar of water and a pipkin of thick sour milk were securely stowed away in the same compartment, together with a few chupatties or flat cakes of flour, resembling the barley scones of Scotland. Thus provisioned, the two hunters were independent of all other supplies for the day, and they determined to devote themselves to the search for the man-eater from sunrise to sunset, should it be found necessary. The route lay through difficult country, over hills covered with dense bush and forest trees. Frequently their course was impeded by large overhanging boughs, which threatened to sweep the howdahs off the elephants' backs; but the sagacious animals, obey- ing the command of their mahouts, although hardly audible to the riders, tore down with their trunks all such obstructions, and then placed the branches to the right or left in order to clear the path from the accumulated rubbish. The elephants clambered up steep places, sometimes skirting dangerous ravines, at others descending precipitous inclines where the earth crumbled beneath their immense weight as they slid carefully toward the bottom. Instead of travel- ling at the usual pace, two hours were occupied in traversing the six miles, and the watches showed a little after seven when the first elephant entered a low archway of curiously-woven branches which formed the entrance to the village. The natives were already astir, and they thronged around the elephants upon en. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 209 their arrival with extreme impatience to join in the pursuit of their common enemy. The first necessity was a responsible leader of the hunt ; and it was at once decided to entrust the entire management to the able shikari who had ex- hibited so much courage in the late encounter with the tigress. This experienced hunter proudly ac- knowledged the compliment, and accepted the com- mand. It was arranged that before any operations should be commenced, it would be important to visit the exact spot where the woman had been seized on the previous evening, and to discover, if possible, her remains, as it was probable that the tiger would not be far distant. A number of villagers at once volun- teered to act as guides, and the elephants proceeded towards the spot ; this was about a mile distant. They arrived at a narrow gorge between steep jungle- covered hills ; at the bottom a deep nullah formed a watercourse, which drained a range of high and broken ground. This rugged channel was now dry, although water could be obtained in the lowest bends of the stream -bed by digging in the sandy bottom ; it was supposed that in the recesses of the thorny en- tanglement which obscured the course of the brook, some place might exist where a small pool remained that sufficed for the tiger's thirst. Passing along this gorge, they arrived at the en- trance upon the opposite side of the hill range, where the country extended into a broad glade between two rows of hills ; the natural watercourses at the foot of each line converged into the deeper ravine, which passed through the gorge. It was just at this spot P 210 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. where the woman had been seized on the previous day. After a short examination of the ground, the shikari concluded that the tiger would not have re- mained in the large ravine that was close to the path which led through the gorge, but as the body of a woman was light and easy to carry, the man-eater would probably have dragged its victim to a con- siderable distance, and might be lying in one of the numerous tributary nullahs which furrowed the sides of the steep jungle-covered hills. The tracks or " pugs" of the tiger's foot were plainly discernible in the dust where it had disappeared into the ravine with the woman's body, and the shikari proposed to make an examination of the principal watercourse before they should disturb the other affluents. The elephants knelt down, and both Everard and Selwyn dismounted to accompany the shikari upon his exciting exploration. Each was followed by the respective gun-bearers. By holding on to the roots of trees and bushes they were enabled to slide and clamber down the precipitous bank into the bottom of the gorge, about twenty-five feet below. This was quite free from rocks, and the dry sandy bed exhibited the unmis- takable marks of the tiger's paws, where it had descended with its prey, and retreated along the narrow course. The body of the woman had evi- dently been carried in the mouth, as the marks upon the sand showed that the feet had dragged along the ground. Should this quality of surface continue, there would be little difficulty in tracking up the tiger CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 211 to its lair. The shikari led the way rapidly, as though he considered the danger to be as yet remote. In this manner the small party proceeded until they arrived at the junction of the two watercourses with the main channel, which had formed their route. Here they discovered an important witness in the tracks of the tiger, which had advanced by the right- hand nullah, and had then ascended the bank into the thick jungle, from which it had made its murder- ous attack. It had made its spring from this dense covert ; it then dragged the woman into the main . gorge, along the bottom of which it had carried the body until it arrived at the junction of the three channels, by the right of which it had at first ap- proached, and it had retreated with the body up the left-hand nullah. This exemplified the cunning strategy of a man-eater. It had probably laid in wait within the right-hand nullah until it heard the voices of the unsuspecting women ; it had then stealthily ascended the steep bank and had followed parallel with their advance until the right moment for attack ; one bound across the narrow path would have secured its prey, with which it had rushed for- ward into the deep ravine. The broad tracks upon the sand, and the drag of the woman's heels were unmistakable in the bed of the left nullah, along which the party now followed the leading shikari with due caution. For about two hundred yards the tiger appeared to have proceeded with its victim without a halt ; at this point it had stopped, and had dropped the body, as the marks were distinct upon the soft and dusty 212 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. surface. After resting or listening, it had again seized its victim, and had resumed its retreat. The shikari whispered that a gun-bearer should return to the elephants and bring the animals and the entire party into the open glade, in case they should be required. In the meantime, he took the spare gun from the man's hands and proceeded upon the tracks of the tiger. They had not continued more than a hundred yards along the nullah which ran parallel with the glade, when they arrived at an exceedingly narrow but very deep and abrupt cleft in the steep hillside ; this formed a roaring watercourse in the rainy season, draining into the nullah which had been the tiger's retreat. The body of the woman had been dragged up this precipitous cleft or ravine with con- siderable difficulty, as some of the bushes had been torn out by the roots, and loose stones had been de- tached from the banks, which had rolled to the bottom. The shikari still led the way, and the party clambered up the steep slope in anxious expectation. About a quarter of a mile had been traversed in this manner ; the ravine had become almost superficial, as several level plateaux had checked the course of drainage. Upon one such level surface, the tiger had left the trench by which it had hitherto ascended, and, crossing to the right over a shoulder or "hog's back "of the range, had descended into a much more important ravine, which drained through a gorge among the hills in an opposite direction. Descend- ing always upon the tracks, which were occasionally dragged with blood, the party were following a gentle CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 213 inclination which led to a dense jungle in a precipi- tous bottom, when the shikari suddenly halted. A long-billed toucan uttered its peculiar cry, and flew into the branches of a lofty tree which rose from the dark ravine beneath. " There is water near !" whis- pered the shikari. Almost immediately after, the rushing sound of wings was heard, and several vultures flew from the boughs, upon which they had remained unobserved. The shikari stood motionless, and listened attentively. . . . The vultures having flown around a few small circles, once more settled upon the boughs. "The tiger is there," whispered the shikari, at the same time pointing with his spear into the dark ravine about a hundred yards distant. This was an exciting declaration, as the shikari was not likely to be deceived. No one would have expected that water was so near, as the country was completely dried up. There could be no doubt that one of those mysterious pools existed in some deep hole of the torrent bed, where a substratum of clay or rock prevented the absorption of the water. Al- though such drinking places of wild animals may be known to the native hunters, their existence would never be suspected by an English sportsman. Fresh tracks of large game are frequently seen in consider- able numbers during the dry season, in places where there is apparently no drop of water for many miles around ; but secret springs among the hills or moun- tains are well known to the wild animals, who have roamed through those quiet solitudes since their birth, and resort at night to the undisturbed drinking places, where they can slake their thirst in security 2i 4 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. from the attacks of man, their only enemies being the leopard or the tiger. The important question remained " If the tiger was there, how were they to obtain a shot?" It was quite impossible to proceed nearer, as the dead crisp leaves that covered the ground would give the alarm of an approach. . . . The shikari placed his gun and spear against a bush, and with monkey- like agility ascended a large tree, from the lofty boughs of which he peered into a particularly dark spot in the ravine below. After a few minutes' obser- vation he descended. He had been able to see a pool of water immediately beneath a perpendicular rock or cliff about twenty feet in height ; he had no doubt that the tiger had dragged the body to this secure retreat where it could obtain water, and was safe from disturbance. The difficulty of the dead leaves was serious, but there was no possibility of overcoming it. From his experience of man-eating tigers, he believed it would not move from so secure a position unless driven ; it might possibly have a cave in the cliff, especially as the rocks were limestone ; at all events, he recom- mended that Everard and Selwyn should for the present occupy positions about a hundred yards apart from the spot where they now stood, while he would return to the glade, and bring the elephants and beaters by another direction, so as to advance from the opposite side of the ravine. Should the tiger retreat upon their approach, it must pass within shot of their rifles ; but should it remain in its den, the future arrangements would have to be considered. en. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 215 Evcrard remained where he stood, while Selwyn took up a position about a hundred paces distant upon the ridge, above the ravine where the tiger was supposed to harbour. The shikari left the spare gun which he had carried, and armed only with his spear, returned by the same route to the glade where the elephants and beaters would be assembled. There was not a breath of air, and the heat was most oppressive. As Everard stood beneath a leaf- less tree, he placed his hand upon the smooth bark, which was hot to the touch, as though artificially heated. Three vultures sat upon the boughs of a high tree with their wings half extended to cool their sides. There was not a sound, but the forest seemed to be as still as death. Twenty minutes had passed in this extreme and depressing silence, and Everard's eyes had vainly endeavoured to pierce the mysteries of the dark gorge below ; when suddenly a noise was heard, that broke the stillness in a most ominous manner. A loud lapping of water, as though dogs were drinking ! . . . This was exactly beneath his stand, about a hundred paces distant, where the shikari had descried a pool of water beneath the rock. . . . There could no longer be any doubt that the man-eater was actually there, and was lapping the water after its cruel meal. The lapping ceased. Everard's ears were strained to catch some other sound. A crack was heard in the extreme stillness of the air then another these were the bones of the un- fortunate woman ; the man-eater had returned to its repast. It may readily be imagined that the 216 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE m. delay in the appearance of the elephants and beaters severely tried the patience of a young hunter. Selwyn, who was a hundred paces from Everard, was about equi-distant from the tiger's lair, and he had heard the sounds with the satisfaction of an experienced tiger-shot, as he knew that the enemy was tracked to its den, and it was merely a question of time when it would be brought to bay in the position which it then occupied ; he felt perfectly certain that it would not budge an inch from the thick jungle into which it had retired beneath the cliff. The cracking of bones continued at intervals, as the woman was being steadily devoured. After waiting impatiently about half an hour, the deep guttural sigh of an elephant was heard upon the hillside upon the opposite face of the ravine ; pre- sently the cracking of a tree betokened the approach. . . . Everard could not help thinking that a wary tiger would be certain to detect sounds that were so palpable to his own sense of hearing, and for the moment he cast his eyes around in the expectation that the tiger would retreat from its hiding-place. An occasional rushing noise in the jungle, and the flapping of elephants' ears, mingled with the blowing from their trunks, apprised him of the closer advance of the animals and beaters ; his heart beat with the joyful excitement that the time was approach- ing when he would be face to face with the man- eater. Presently a tread in the dead leaves behind him attracted his attention, and he perceived the shikari advancing from the opposite direction. In a few CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 217 words he explained that the elephants and beaters were arranged in line within a few yards of the bottom or opposite side of the ravine ; the tiger would not attempt to charge through the line, therefore he pro- posed that Selwyn and Everard should accompany him down the hill and take up their positions upon the top of the perpendicular cliff which overhung the pool of water, by the side of which he expected to discover the tiger with the remains of its victim. , . . Selwyn immediately responded to the sign, and they commenced a cautious descent towards the rock ; stepping as lightly as possible through the betraying leaves. Occasionally they halted to listen. No sound could be heard beyond the guttural tones of the elephants when blowing against their flanks, or the flapping of their ears. They continued to advance, and soon arrived at the extreme edge of the rocky cliff. They cautiously peered over. A mass of bare rock formed the base of the perpendicular face. Upon this lay the head of the woman, and the spine and hip-bones, to which portions of the thigh-bones were still attached. The legs and arms had been devoured, the thigh-bones had been crunched to pieces, and the ribs had been gnawed away until close to the spine. It was a horrible sight ; but the tiger was not there. " There must be a hole in the rock," whispered the shikari. " You remain upon the cliff, which com- mands all beneath, while I will bring the elephants to the base." Selwyn and Everard, about fifty yards apart, with their respective gun-bearers, kept watch upon the cliff, 218 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. which commanded a clear view of the pool only twenty or thirty feet below. They felt no doubt that the tiger had, upon hearing the elephants, retired into some cave or den within the rocks, close to the spot where the woman was being devoured. Upon a more careful scrutiny of the narrow base between the foot of the cliff and the pool in the bend of the ravine, they discovered several other skulls and re- mains of bones, showing that this was one of the man-eater's habitual lairs, to which it retreated with its victims to be consumed at leisure. In a short time the trumpet of an elephant was heard as the driver prodded it with the iron hook, and the line of beaters advanced to the edge of the ravine. They could now be clearly seen, and with a burst of shouts and tom-toms, a din was raised that would have scared the tiger had it been concealed within the jungle. There was no longer any neces- sity for silence. The shikari having mounted an elephant, crossed the dry torrent bed, and pressing through the jungle, arrived upon the rocky base exactly below the spot where Selwyn was stationed upon the cliff. He at once explained that two en- trances to the rock-face formed caverns, which pro- bably terminated in one cave ; there could be no doubt that the tiger was within. It would be neces- sary for Selwyn and Everard to mount their respective elephants and occupy positions at either end of the base of the cliff. The tiger could not possibly scale the perpendicular face ; thus, should it charge from its den, both rifles would obtain a shot, as there were no me,ans of escape unless it should cross the ravine to CH. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 219 break through the line of beaters, who were now drawn up in serried ranks. In a few minutes both English hunters were in their howdahs, each with a gun-bearer in the seat behind. The elephants were tuskers, and thoroughly trained ; they had already smelt the tiger's presence, and at once comprehended the situation. Each ele- phant held its stand against the rock close to the pool of water ; this was about twenty yards long in front of the precipitous face of limestone. Should the tiger break from the cave, it must either plunge into the pool before it could charge the beaters, or it must force a passage by cither of the elephants. . . . Several long crackers were tied together in a bunch, together with a stone secured in a piece of cotton cloth. These were ignited by the shikari, who courageously volunteered to throw them into the mouth of the suspected cavern. With extreme pluck, the man advanced and threw his fireworks into the cave entrance. ... A series of reports and a cloud of smoke were the only results ; nothing could be seen of the tiger. Had it stolen away before their arrival, without being perceived ? This was a dreadful idea of disappointment. The shikari did not appear to entertain this apprehension. He crossed over to the beaters, and obtained from various individuals sufficient dried chilis (red peppers) which they had tied in their waistbands for an adjunct to their curry stuff. These were quickly pounded into dust upon a flat stone and mixed with gunpowder, a handful of which was tied into a bundle of cotton rags obtained from the tattered cloth of a villager's 220 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. costume. A considerable amount of gunpowder was damped slightly and rubbed into the cotton envelope. This bundle was ignited by a piece that projected at the knot, and it was thrown by the shikari into the murky cave, together with a bomb. Every one waited in anxious expectation. Sud- denly a loud report denoted the explosion of the bomb. Nothing appeared but the smoke which issued from the cave. At least two minutes elapsed, and nothing moved ; it could hardly be believed that any living thing occupied the bowels of the rock. There was no warning, but an unexpected and tremendous roar was for an instant heard close to the cavern's mouth ! a yellow mass dashed through the smoke, and in another moment the tiger was fixed upon the face of the elephant which carried Everard, with teeth and claws adhering firmly to the upper portion of the trunk ! With a shrill scream of rage and sudden panic the elephant swung round, and plunging over the narrow ledge of rock, slipped, or fell into the deep pool, where for a few moments it disappeared, only the howdah and its occupants being above water. The tiger had been obliged to loose its hold, and having arrived at the surface, was swimming across the pool, when a shot from Selwyn struck it through the neck ; this did not prevent it from landing upon the opposite bank, where it bounded up the rocks towards the line of beaters, who fled in all directions. It was just disappearing into thick jungle when a second shot from Selwyn struck it in the hindquarters, and rolled it over ; in the next instant it retreated en. in. EVERARD HARCOURT. 221 into a dense mass of thorns close to the water's edge. This sudden attack and discomfiture of Everard's elephant had been the work of only a few seconds. The mahout, who had not been shaken from his seat, now landed his elephant from the pool, but not before Selwyn had forced his elephant to follow the wounded tiger straight into the thorns which had favoured its retreat. It was a grand sight to see the noble tusker raise its trunk high in air as it advanced to the attack ; slowly but determinedly it crashed through the yielding jungle. Two or three short, but loud roars were the immediate result, as the tiger in furious bounds sprang toward the advancing tusks. With a swing of its huge head, the elephant bored down several tall saplings the thickness of a man's arm, upon the attacking beast. " Steady the elephant ! ' shouted Selwyn to the mahout who had directed the movements of his animal. " Steady the elephant, I can't shoot ! " At that moment the elephant stood as though turned to stone ; the tiger had at the same instant bounded back from the tree-stems that had been pressed upon it, and at the crack from Selwyn's spare gun, the man-eater rolled over stone dead, shot through the spine just behind the neck at the junction with the shoulder. . . . This was a most satisfactory termina- tion of the hunt. The beaters, who had rushed away in all directions when the tiger had charged among them, now thronged around the prostrate body of their common enemy. It was a large animal, but the skin was in an un- 222 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. healthy condition ; this was attributed by the natives to its food of human flesh. With the usual difficulty it was placed upon an elephant, and the party returned in triumph toward the village. In the meantime several of the beaters had run on before, to be the first with the good news. . . . When the elephants arrived, a great crowd of people had collected to meet them, and natives kept pouring in from the neighbouring villages to view with their own eyes the monster that had taken so many of their relatives during a series of eight or ten years. A general rejoicing took place ; during that night stones were recounted at the camp-fires of the many depredations committed by the dreaded man-eater, and they could scarcely believe that it had really disappeared for ever. Everard and Selwyn returned to their own camp after the long but successful hunt, which had rid the country of an animal that had hitherto defied all attempts at its destruction. CHAPTER IV. A MONTH'S trip in the jungles of the Central Pro- vinces was an enjoyable break in the usual routine of a life in cantonments. During this excursion the bag had consisted of tigers, bears, sambur deer, spotted deer, nilghye, black buck, besides smaller animals and feathered game. At that time India was a grand field for the hunter of large game, and the jungles, which are now almost barren in certain districts, were then well supplied. Since the mutiny our English army has been increased to 60,000 men ; the large proportion of officers, many of whom are sportsmen, has tended to decrease the wild animals, added to which the wonderful improvement in rifles and the invention of breechloading firearms have been advan- tages on the side of the shooters, which have much reduced the game. The Government of India pays a reward of 200 rupees for the death of a man-eating tiger, and fifty rupees for any other. Persons who are unacquainted with India can hardly appreciate the statistical re- turns of casualties through the attacks of wild animals and the bites of venomous reptiles. From a gazetted notice it appears that in iSSi, 18,670 persons were killed by snakes, and 2757 by wild animals; 43,609 224 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. head of cattle were destroyed by snakes and wild animals during the same year; 254,968 snakes, and 15,274 wild animals were destroyed, and rupees 102,810 disbursed by Government in rewards for their destruction. There can be no doubt that many of those returned as killed by snakes may have been purposely poisoned, as such crimes are exceedingly common among the native population. On the other hand, the statistical returns of a particular district which exhibit great mortality through the attacks of tigers, would create an erroneous impression respecting the actual number of those animals. Two or three man-eating tigers will kill an extraordinary amount of human life, and in remote-lying villages such scourges are frequently beyond the haunts of English hunters. Selwyn and his companion had done good service by the time of their return to Jubbulpoor, and several camels laden with the spreading antlers of sambur and spotted deer, together with skins of tigers, bears, and blue bulls (nilghyes), created a display which quickly raised young Everard to the coveted rank of a good shikari. The post had arrived, and a long wished-for letter from Eveleyn was awaiting him. As usual, he had sought solitude to devour its contents ; but the tone disturbed him. It was written in despondency. Her mother had chid her sorrow, and had ridiculed the constancy of her affection. She had endeavoured to persuade her that Everard would prove untrue, and that a prolonged absence would be too much for the endurance of any man's engagement. Other beauties CH. iv. EVERARD HARCOURT. 225 would attract him, and Eveleyn would discover that her early and brightest days would have been wasted in a hopeless love, that would blight her future pros- pects. If she remained true to Everard for many years, and he should at length prove false, her youth would have been sacrificed to a vain shadow, which would have perhaps frustrated some more hopeful union. Everard was unhappy. Why should he not be true ? He reflected within his heart how often since he had been in India beauty had enticed him, and still he had resisted ; had not the lovely image of his Eveleyn suddenly risen to his view whenever for a moment his youthful ardour had tempted him to admire some fair partner at the Viceroy's balls ? had not that image immediately dispelled all other attrac- tions from his eyes ? had he not curbed his strong impulses, and set his heel upon temptations only because his love for Eveleyn guided him to con- stancy? and should she doubt him because her mother scolded ? Major Selwyn had become a bosom friend. There is a freemasonry among good sportsmen, and there is no place like the jungle and the tent for cementing friendships when two men are bound in companion- ship towards a common object, and mutually share each danger. In their evening chats Everard had often thrown out hints that some much-loved object had been left behind in England, but Selwyn had never encouraged confidence upon so delicate a sub- ject, and had hardly interested himself in the con- versation. Nevertheless Everard felt that it would Q 226 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. relieve his mind from much anxiety if he could obtain his friend's opinion ; he knew Selwyn to be a thorough gentleman, and a good officer and sports- man ; he felt that he was a sincere friend, who being many years his senior, had greater experience of life than he himself possessed ; ... he determined to confide his position to him, and to ask advice. They were riding together in the cooler hour of evening, and were about a couple of miles distant from Jubbulpoor when Everard broached the subject, and hinted his suspicions that the mother was en- deavouring to dissuade her daughter from adhering to her vow of constancy. " I should do exactly the same, my dear Everard," said Selwyn gently, " if I had a daughter in such a position." " Impossible ! " exclaimed Everard with vehe- mence. " We swore most solemnly to be true till death. I consider myself absolutely married by that oath ; although not legally, morally I am hers and she is mine. If a princess with all the beauty and wealth of fairyland could rise before me, I could not even listen to such temptation. You should see her, Selwyn, and you would then understand the situation; you shall see her some day, I trust, when we meet in Old England." " Pray do not think that I doubt her charms and personal attractions, my dear Everard, or your devo- tion : I am merely regarding the case with the cool head of a man who is not in love. You are perfectly right to be constant, but you were wrong to form an attachment at your early age that must place the CH. iv. EVERARD HARCOURT. 227 young lady in a false position. Her mother will naturally argue that if you had possessed the means, you would have remained in England to marry her ; you enter the profession and come to India because you have no independence ; you cannot return for very many years ; ninety-nine lads out of a hundred at the age of twenty-one would forget their love after some term of hopeless absence ; why should you be an exception to the rule ? . . . The mother will say, 'Here is my daughter, beautiful, accomplished, young, with every prospect of making a happy marriage ; she places her affections upon a charming fellow with- out a rap ; they swear eternal fidelity ; he goes to India ; she remains at home to mope and pine away. She loses all other chances of marriage because she is foolish enough to consider herself irrevocably en- gaged; years will pass away; she will become older; her beauty will fade ; by which time Everard will have forgotten her, or have changed his mind, or may have married another, or may have been eaten up by a tiger, or killed in action. In any case my daughter's prospects are being ruined by this delay, and the numerous chances are all against her ; her youth will have passed by in unhappiness, and her reward may be desertion or neglect/ Therefore the careful and cool mother will advise her daughter to be reason- able, and not to wreck her lovely vessel upon the rocks of folly. Everard will have grown colder, and will have seen the impossibility of such an engage- ment, he will make up his mind to the necessity ; the match must be broken off. " There, my dear Everard," continued Selwyn, 228 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. " don't be angry with me for putting the affair in this worldly form ; I only wish you had money enough to run home and marry the young lady off-hand, but you may depend upon it women don't like delay, and the mother will advise the young lady accordingly." Every word of Selwyn's discourse had pierced through Everard like daggers ; he felt that the re- flections were undeniable, and although a generous impulse smote his conscience suddenly, " that he might perhaps unreasonably have interfered with Eveleyn's liberty of action," still he could not persuade himself that he had been in error. "I am in a similar position," he replied aloud. " If she has engaged herself and thereby perhaps endangered her prospects upon my account, I have done the same. I have given up all thoughts of other women, and I may lose good worldly chances precisely in the same manner that she renounces the advances of other men. I will encounter any risks for her sake ; why should she hesitate to make an equal sacrifice for me?" A smile passed over Selwyn's face. " I wish I were your age, Everard," he said ;..."" you remind me of old times when I was very young, and believed in everything and everybody. I believed even in myself, and my ideas were very much like your own ; but I learned to know the world better with experi- ence, and as I watched the change in my own opinions, I made due allowance for the change in others. " You may depend upon it that what is known as an ' old head upon young shoulders,' would make a very disagreeable fellow ; our heads should be young CH. iv. EVERARD HARCOURT. 229 consistently with our years, and provided the heart's in the right place, we shall get on as well as others ; but avoid the women, my dear boy, until you're old enough and rich enough to marry without keeping them waiting ; for that's their weakness they won't wait and they are quite right, if they want to get married," continued Selwyn. All this philosophy was very distressing to Everard, who could no longer resist a direct appeal. "Do you mean to say, my dear Selwyn, that you would advise a girl who has sworn to be true to a man she loves, to throw him over without rhyme or reason, except that she might improve her chances by being free?" " I would not advise her to do anything of the kind in ordinary circumstances, but if I were her father in the situation which you have described, I should not advise her to 'throw you over/ but I should place the position before her in its true and hopeless light, and I should advise her to allow her absent lover full liberty of action, and claim the same freedom for herself. If you both were blessed with that magnetic power of mutual attraction which re- sisted all outward forces, you would remain destined for each other; if, on the other hand, you should yield to the changes wrought by increased experience, you would be free to escape from the fetters of a youthful escapade." " Why should she want to marry any other than myself? that is the real question. She has a com- fortable home, an excellent mother : perhaps a little worldly," continued Everard ; " her friends are de- 230 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. voted, and she knows that I am true ; what more can she require ? " " Simply that you should be her husband, instead of an absent and uncertain lover ; a present certainty, instead of an absent uncertainty. Ask the bird in its cage why it is not contented with food and kindness ; if you leave the cage door open, it flies away ; it re- quires a mate, and will seek one if not there. Re- member what I tell you, my dear Everard, and do not become unhappy ; the force of circumstances will be too strong for you both. Her mother will prevail ; the tone of the letter you have now received bespeaks the situation ; the influence is at work, and the next communication will be still more forcible. You will then find that longer intervals will curtail the corre- spondence, until at length you will receive a letter from the mother instead of from your love, giving you the final cong/ 9 ' in the interests of her daughter, who will always regard you with affectionate esteem/ etc. etc. etc. " Only don't be unhappy, my dear Everard ; let things drift, and take your chance like other men. The day may come when you will look back, as we all have done, upon the sweets and sorrows of our first love, without breaking your heart at the recol- lection." This Platonic view of his position was hardly appreciated by Everard ; at the same time, there was so much probability in the forecast of the mother's stratagem, that he was overwhelmed by doubts and suspicions. Who could tell what might happen during his long absence ? although he believed in Eveleyn's CH. IV. EVERARD HARCOURT. 231 undying affection, he acknowledged that her beauty would attract many admirers. Some one might appear whose worldly possessions would perhaps ex- ceed his own expectations ; the mother would natur- ally favour such a suit ; he would then have a rival ! If he were present, he would not fear a crowd of rivals ; but in his absence, a suitor that combined wealth, position, and good appearance would be dan- gerous to his interests ; and Eveleyn might be guided by her mother. CHAPTER V. TWELVE months had passed since the conversation with Selwyn during their evening ride. Everard had written long and interesting letters by every oppor- tunity, but the replies had been at irregular intervals, and he could not conceal the fact that a less earnest tone pervaded Eveleyn's communications. Selwyn's prophetic voice rang in his impatient ears, and he dreaded the arrival of a post, lest it should bring a letter, not from Eveleyn, but from her mother. This dreadful day arrived. With a heart full of bitterness he confided the cold epistle to his friend and sincere adviser. Not one word from Eveleyn ! her mother excused her daughter's silence on the ground of her maternal command that she should cease to correspond. A small sealed parcel contained the opal ring which he had given her upon that even- ing of bitter sorrow when they swore eternal love in the hour of parting. . . . He broke open the seal. The opal shone bright with its various sparkling hues; whereas it should have been cold and gray under this momentous change of circumstances, unless the super- stition was a fraud. He gazed upon the miniature that was ever near him, and could hardly believe that those sweet blue eyes should not be true ; and that CH. v. EVERARD HARCOURT. 233 her lips should caress another ? This last idea was too dreadful for consideration ; he would at all events remain true to her, and nothing should wrest that loved portrait from his possession. She had given it to him together with her heart, and he would keep the features although her love was gone . . . Eveleyn's marriage was announced in the Times newspaper, which arrived in due course at Jubbulpoor. Her husband was a wealthy proprietor in her own county, and the match was in every way suitable to her position. It would be useless to attempt a de- scription of the various phases of conscience-qualms through which she had passed before she had deter- mined upon this step; it would also be idle to declare that although she had married a man whom she could respect, she was absolutely and truly his in the en- tirety of her love. If the hidden recesses of her heart could have been scrutinised, the deep scar of her first love would have been discovered still unhealed. If it had been possible to make an exchange of persons, retaining the position which she occupied, there can be little doubt that Everard would have been pre- ferred to the husband of her mother's choice ; but such reflections are useless and obscure she was married, and lost to Everard. It was his first dis- appointment, and he made a resolution to adore her portrait, but never to love or trust another woman. The General's daughter who commanded at Jub- bulpoor was pretty and agreeable ; she was of course the centre of admiration, but although a coquette almost as a natural consequence of her position, she regarded Everard with a very different feeling. He 234 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE m. had dined at the General's table, and had never been omitted from evening invitations ; there could be no doubt that he was a favoured guest, and the various ladies of the station had not hesitated to couple his name with that of the young Isabella Grey. Although Everard was perfectly innocent and unconscious of his position in the affections of Miss Grey, and treated the chaff of his brother officers with ridicule, he was nevertheless regarded with increased admiration by the numerous female representatives of the canton- ments, who were jealous of the General's daughter, and would gladly have attracted his attentions. The chilly reserve which Everard had adopted towards women since his disappointment, only increased their desire for intimacy with a young man who differed so materially from the usual throng of admirers, and he found himself sought after by those who in powers of fascination considered themselves the crime de la creme of Jubbulpoor. Adonis was not more proof against the allurements of Venus than was Everard against the beauties of his surroundings. His natural courteous and polished manners were strictly confined to the amenities of social intercourse, but not a spark of warmer feeling could be ignited in his heart. . . Isabella was an only child of General Grey ; she had accordingly been sufficiently spoiled by both parents to have become their ruler in fact, she might be almost said to have commanded the station. A fine figure, with a pretty gipsy-like type of brunette complexion in addition to large dark-brown eyes, completed the portrait of the young lady who re- CH. v. EVERARD HARCOURT. 235 ceived the homage of many aspiring officers belong- ing to the various regiments in cantonments ; but although Isabella was fond of admiration, she had never been in love. She had been so accustomed to command, and to have her own way without opposi- tion, that she had scarcely listened to the numerous proposals of fond lovers with whose sentiments she had no sympathy. If she were to love she would herself select the object, and she could not conceive the possibility of any want of reciprocity upon the part of the individual who should be thus honoured by her affection. . . . General Grey was a good officer but a foolish father. He was proud of his daughter's personal attractions, and he had been sufficiently unwise to assure her that "she would have all the men at her feet." This was the natural position to which Isabella would have consigned them, until it might please her to relax her discipline. That Isabella Grey would ever be the victim of a hopeless passion none of her admirers could have conceived the possibility ; but such was the case, and although her proud spirit would scarcely confess the weakness to her own heart, she was absorbed by a secret love for Everard Harcourt. The General was fond of Everard ; he was a thorough soldier, a daring sportsman, and had exhi- bited the qualities which the old officer most admired. He was withal modest and unassuming in the society of both men and women. No stranger would have guessed from his demeanour that he would be the first to lead in the moment of danger. The General knew his character, and he was quick to perceive his 236 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. daughter's predilection. Although he would have preferred a suitor of more mature age and of higher social rank, he was so thoroughly embued with the necessity of yielding to his daughter's wishes that he abstained from all interference, and both he and his wife concluded that Isabella would manage the affair in her own manner, and that, if she loved Everard, he would of course love her, and the selection would take its natural course. As Isabella managed the domestic arrangements, and materially assisted her mother in the details of invitations for the frequent entertainments given by the General, it can hardly be wondered at that Eve- rard's name was seldom omitted from the list. The climax arrived when, by an unexpected opportunity, he was offered the post of aide-de-camp. Whether Isabella had anything to do with this appointment it is hard to say, but Everard in the General's estab- lishment would be like Daniel in the lion's den. " Don't accept it, Everard/' exclaimed Selwyn. " Take care, my dear boy, or you'll put your foot in a snare that you hardly see. That pretty brown- eyed girl will make a slave of you ; and, if I know anything of women, she means to marry you whether you are willing or not Have nothing to do with her ; she has youth and appearance now, but in ten years' time she'll become a veritable tyrant, as hard as iron, and as rusty, both in temper and complexion. I should think you have had a lesson in womankind that would make you hesitate before you encoun- tered them again. The old General is good enough without the daughter ; but, for heaven's sake, don't CH. v. EVERARD HARCOURT. 237 carry her upon your back, or you'll never shake her off again/' It would have been a difficult position for Everard had not good fortune suddenly befriended him. An order was received from headquarters for his regi- ment to march to Delhi. This was an escape from a dilemma that might have become serious. Poor Isabella was crushed by the unexpected news. It was the last evening before the departure of the regi- ment, and Everard had received an invitation to dine with the General. . . . He was received with more than usual warmth by the parents, and Isabella was confided to his care during the dinner. The party was small, and the conversation was upon the custom- ary local topics. Isabella hardly spoke ; her large dark eyes exhibited symptoms of tears. Twice she dropped her handkerchief between Everard's chair and her own, and twice in the mutual struggle to regain it, their cheeks had collided as they stooped at exactly the same moment. Isabella blushed and looked confused, but lovely. A third time the vagrant handkerchief fell to the floor ; but an active kitmagar (table servant) unfortunately interfered and picked it up before Isabella had time to stoop. How she hated the officious menial at that moment ! The dinner being over, the party retired to the cool ver- andah. The moon was shining brightly. "Are you really going to leave us ?" murmured Isabella with some embarrassment as she walked by Everard's side to and fro in the long verandah. " I thought you were to become my father's aide-de-camp, and that you would remain with us." 238 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE HI. " It would have been a delightful position indeed," replied Everard ; " but Fate has destined otherwise. Our regiment is ordered to Delhi, and, as you already know, we march before daybreak to-morrow morning." " If you had wished to remain here you could easily have obtained leave ; why do you not send in an application ? My father will forward it to head- quarters and support it unless you really wish to get rid of us altogether in exchange for new friends at that hateful place Delhi, where you will soon forget us." " How can I forget those from whom I have re- ceived much kindness. The General has honoured me beyond my merits, and I shall always remember the encouragement and favours I have received from him wherever I may go." "Remember the General!" exclaimed Isabella, with undisguised astonishment " remember the en- couragement you received from the General ! . . . How very extraordinary some men are ! . . . Then you will forget us ?" " I cannot forget Mrs. Grey ; I couple her name with that of your father, as I shall always remain indebted for her kindness." " Then you will remember the General, and my mother, . . . and forget poor me ?" . . . This was difficult to answer without repudiation. " Why do you suppose I should be forgetful of your kindness, Miss Grey ? I have, and always shall have, an equal regard for you all, as a family that in this distant portion of the world has made me feel almost at home." "Then why do you want to leave us? "quickly CH. v. EVERARD HARCOURT. 239 replied his questioner. " I tell you that the General can obtain leave should you wish to become his aide- de-camp. I will ask him myself, unless you have any positive objection. But let us talk the matter over in my mother's room, where the punkah will keep away these horrible mosquitoes ; I am already eaten up by them." The open door led directly from the verandah to the room in question, where Everard quickly dis- covered himself tlte-a-t$te with Isabella alone, sitting upon the same sofa beneath the gentle draught created by the punkah. This was a position which, under ordinary circumstances, would have been wel- comed as most favourable, but in the present situa- tion it was not only embarrassing but extremely dangerous. It was tolerably clear to Everard that he was expected either to declare his love then and there, or he was at the least to capitulate by agreeing to remain as aide-de-camp. Isabella's fan fell from her hand, quite by acci- dent, as she applied her handkerchief to her eyes. " How idiotic I am," she peevishly exclaimed ; " that fan was a present from Colonel Temple. I am always dropping it ... it is a sign that I do not care for him ; in fact, I hate presents, and people who give them to me. You never gave me so much as a pair of gloves, and I suppose that is the reason that made me distinguish you from the crowd of fools that usually surround me. . . . Now, tell me honestly, do you really wish to remain with the General as aide- de-camp ; or do you wish to leave us altogether, and go off to that distant station up in the North- West ?" 2 4 o TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. " Miss Grey," replied Everard, " as a soldier I must not allow my inclinations to attract me from my duty. Had the regiment remained here I should have considered the General's invitation the greatest honour ; but I cannot conceal from myself that my duty lies with my regiment, especially as disturbances are threatening in the North- West, and troops are being concentrated at Delhi. ... I shall look for- ward to some future time when I may have the pleasure of meeting your family again, if not in India, perhaps in England, when we may talk over old times, and I shall recall all your kind hospitality. But then," continued Everard with some hesitation, " Miss Grey will no doubt have changed her name, and will no longer be the ornament of her father's house." Isabella for an instant turned crimson, but quickly recovered her composure. " What name would you suggest in exchange for the monosyllable Grey?" " There is not much in a name, and I should not be too particular if the man were worthy of you. If he loves you with all his heart, whether he be Jones or Johnson, or Howard or H " " Harcourt, you were going to say, I believe !" interrupted Isabella with affected simplicity. " Har- court ! a very pretty name indeed Isabella Harcourt. I must ask my mother whether she would ever agree to such a change from the old name of Grey." " There are many Harcourts," said Everard, " and should one be fortunate enough to convert Miss Grey it would be better for Grey to become Harcourt than for Harcourt to become Grey." CH. v. EVERARD HARCOURT. 24! " What idle talk this is/ 1 responded the perplexed Isabella, who found it impossible to hook her wary fish ; at the same time she was suffering from the disadvantage of an absolute passion for Everard, which blinded her to the ordinary sense of propriety. " It appears that what you term military duty is a stronger feeling than natural affection. Tell me candidly, if you loved a girl, would that same 'duty' drag you away from her arms? or would you be happier could you find some excuse to evade the call and to remain with the one you loved ?" " Miss Grey," replied Everard sadly, " you have asked me a question which awakens the sorrow of my life ; but as you honour me by an intimacy to which I have no claim, I feel that you take a more than usual interest in my career ; thus I presume to answer you. My duty separated me from the only girl I ever loved. We vowed eternal constancy. This is she to whom my heart was given ; and though she never can be mine, I can never love another." As he spoke he drew from his breast the miniature of Eveleyn, and placed it in her hands. Isabella turned deadly pale. She took the minia- ture and held it attentively before her. By degrees her large eyes filled with tears ; she returned the portrait to his hand, which she grasped between both her own. " Go to Delhi, Everard ! go, and let me forget you. Would to God that I had known this sooner. She is more worthy of you than I ; I have been wrong, foolish, and often heartless I can only say God forgive me ! and may He bless you and . . ." She could not complete the sentence, but, over- R 242 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. powered by her feelings, rushed from the apartment, leaving Everard alone. Men are puzzles. Everard had never cared for Isabella Grey in the slightest degree, but he now really sympathised with her. He had always con- sidered her to be a handsome but heartless coquette, who loved admiration, and was determined to enforce it from those who usually surrounded her. He had imagined that she was playing upon him the same game that she had indulged in with others ; but when he saw that she was really and truly in earnest, and that her strong and self-supporting spirit had broken down at the avowal of his love for Eveleyn, he discovered a strong reaction in his own feelings, and he entered into a state of mind that might have been dangerous to his determination of avoiding women. This was disturbed by the sudden entrance of Selwyn, who in a voice of astonishment exclaimed " Everard Harcourt alone in a lady's boudoir ! Why, Everard, old fellow, what does this mean ? We ought to be in bed and asleep ; we shall be roused up at four to-morrow morning. Come and say fare- well to the General and Mrs. Grey and Isabella, and let's be off." A warm and sincere "good-bye" to the kind host and hostess, and Selwyn and Everard took their leave, to march on the following morning by the Grand Trunk Road en route for the great city of Delhi. The General and Mrs. Grey discovered their daughter in tears ; but the lesson of that nigtyr was not in vain. This first attack of real heartache pro- 1 duced a marked effect in the future of Isabella. CHAPTER VI. ISABELLA entirely changed her habits of levity and flirtation after her disappointment in Everard Har- court ; she became a sensible and attractive girl, and eventually married that same Colonel Temple whom she had pretended to disregard. Fifteen years passed away. Everard was a major, and Selwyn was colonel of the regiment. As time had flowed onwards many changes had occurred in persons and places. News from England had at certain intervals informed Everard that Eveleyn had, about a year after her marriage, become a mother, that she had two girls, and that her husband's death had left her a young widow. The latter event had been quite recent. Eveleyn was again free. Events of great importance engrossed the atten- tion of the Government of India, and there was little time for the minds of military men to dwell upon home topics. For some years past there had been no rest. The disasters of the Afghan War had been repaired, and our defeat avenged by complete victory. The Mah- ratta War had terminated, and the annexation of Scinde had been effected by Sir Charles Napier after Meanee and Hyderabad ; but a severer struggle was 244 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. about to commence in the North -West, with an enemy superior to any with whom we had contended throughout the history of our Indian Empire. Lord Ellenborough had been succeeded by Sir Henry Hardinge as Viceroy of India. This able admini- strator and experienced general combined every quality that was essential for the high and respon- sible position. The great Rajah Runjeet Singh, who had exhi- bited stupendous powers of command throughout his adventurous reign, had loyally adhered to his treaty with the English made on 25th April 1809. From that date he was assisted by European officers to reform his army, and to place it upon a footing that would ensure union and discipline throughout the ranks of that magnificent material which had hitherto been merely a collection of wild, but invincible irre- gulars. The Sikh army, thus reorganised, carried everything before it. In 1819 Cashmere had been conquered, and the military reforms resulted in the uninterrupted annexation of all adjacent provinces. In 1831 a new treaty had been entered into with Lord W. Bentinck when Governor-General of India. The only check to the victorious arms of Runjeet Singh was a defeat in 1836, inflicted by the Afghans. At the age of fifty, Runjeet Singh, the Lion of La- hore, was fading in physical constitution. A life of anxiety had unfortunately been coupled with de- bauchery, and premature old age crippled the form of the greatest warrior and administrator of that century in the East. On 2/th June 1839 Runjeet Singh died. He left behind him vast possessions. CH. vi. EVERARD HARCOURT. 245 His four wives and seven favourite female slaves ascended the funeral pile, and, according to the bar- barous custom of the country, were consumed by fire, together with the body of the Maharajah. He left a son, a child of four years old ; this was his highness Dhuleep Singh, who is now so deservedly esteemed as a naturalised Englishman, and resident in Norfolk. The death of Runjeet Singh was the abstraction of a governing power. The masses of Sikh soldiery, which for many years had been kept in constant activity, could not be restrained in the absence of their late ruler, who had accustomed them to victory and plunder ; the country became the theatre of intrigues and rival factions. It is not my province to write a history of the long chain of troubles which terminated in the an- nexation of the Punjaub. There can be no question that the responsibility of the war rested with the Sikhs, who, on I7th December 1845 advanced across the Sutlej into British territory, and thus commenced a struggle which tested the highest qualities of the British arms, and added lustre to the reputation earned upon many hard-fought fields upon the plains of India. Everard's regiment, 3d Bengal Light Cavalry, formed a portion of the large force under Sir Hugh Gough, who, together with Sir Henry Hardinge, the Governor-General, had, after a long march on 1 8th December, reached Moodkee and encamped ; when suddenly the Sikh army, 30,000 strong, came hurry- ing forward and attacked. A short but severe conflict ensued ; the Sikhs 246 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE HI. retired, leaving 17 guns in the hands of the British. Amongst the killed were General Sir John M'Caskill and Sir Robert Sale, with a loss on the British side of 52 officers killed, and 39 wounded, making a total of 872 killed and wounded of all ranks. The 1 9th and 2Oth were spent by both armies in burying their dead and in procuring reinforcements. Sir John Littler, at the head of 5000 men, joined the British on the 2 ist December about sixteen miles from the camp. The British army then formed itself into four divisions the right under the command of Sir Hugh Gough, the centre commanded by Major- General W. R. Gilbert, the left by Sir J. Littler, and the rear by Sir Harry Smith. The Sikhs were com- manded by Tej Singh, and had formed entrench- ments in a jungle country, which rendered the march of infantry exceedingly difficult. The Sikhs have long been celebrated for their artillery ; they were provided with heavy guns, which did great execution. Sir J. Littler failed in his attack upon their position ; General Gilbert was successful. The first position of the enemy was taken. The darkness of the night prevented the continuance of the conflict ; the British troops bivouacked on the ground. This action could not be better described than in the identical words of the despatch forwarded by the Commander-in-Chief, dated at Ferozeshah, 22d December 1845 : After the combat of the i8th at Moodkee, information was received the following day that the enemy, increased in numbers, were moving on to attack us. A line of defence was taken up in advance of our encampment, and dispositions made to repel assault ; but the day wore away without CH. vi. EVERARD HARCOURT. 247 their appearing, and at nightjwe had the satisfaction of being reinforced by Her Majesty's 2 9th Foot and the East India Company's 1st Euro- pean Light Infantry, with our small division of heavy guns. On the morning of the 2ist the offensive was resumed. Our columns of all arms debouched four miles on the road to Ferozeshah, where it was known that the enemy, posted in great force and with a most formidable artillery, had remained since the i8th incessantly em- ployed in entrenching his position. Instead of advancing to the direct attack of their formidable works, our force manoeuvred to their right : the second and fourth divisions of infantry in front, supported by the first division and cavalry in second line, continued to defile for some time out of cannon shot between the Sikhs and Ferozepore. The de- sired effect was not long delayed ; a cloud of dust was seen on the left, and, according to the instructions sent him on the preceding evening, Major-General Sir John Littler with his division, availing himself of the offered opportunity, was discovered in full march to unite his force with mine. The junction was soon effected, and thus was accom- plished one of the great objects of all our harassing marches and priva- tions in relief of this division of our army from the blockade of the numerous forces by which it was surrounded. Dispositions were now made for a united attack on the enemy's entrenched camp. We found it to be a parallelogram of about a mile in length and half a mile in breadth, including within its area the strong village of Ferozeshah, the shorter sides looking towards the Sutlej and Moodkee, and the longer towards Ferozepore and the open country. We moved against the last named face, the ground in front of which was like the Sikh position in Moodkee, covered with low jungle. The divisions of Major-General Sir John Littler, who had succeeded Major-General Sir John M'Caskill, and Major-General Gilbert, de- ployed into line, having in the centre our whole force of artillery, one on either flank, and one in support to be moved as occasion required. Major-General Sir Harry Smith's division and our small cavalry force moved in second line, having a brigade in reserve to cover each wing. I should here observe that I committed the charge of the left wing to Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Hardinge, while I personally con- ducted the right. A very heavy cannonade was opened by the enemy, who had dis- persed over their position upwards of one hundred guns, more than forty of which were of battering calibre. These kept up a heavy and well-directed fire, which the practice of our far less numerous artillery, of much lighter metal, checked in some degree but could not silence. Finally, in the face of a storm of shot and shell, our infantry advanced and carried these formidable entrenchments. They threw themselves upon their guns, and with matchless gallantry wrested them from the enemy ; but when the batteries were partially within our grasp our soldiery had to face such a fire of musketry from the Sikh infantry, 248 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE m. arrayed behind their guns, that in spite of the most heroic efforts a portion only of the entrenchment could be carried. Night fell while the conflict was everywhere raging. Although I now brought up Major-General Sir Harry Smith's division, and he captured and long retained another point of the posi- tion, and Her Majesty's 3d Light Dragoons charged and took some of the most formidable batteries, yet the enemy remained in possession of a considerable portion of the great quadrangle, whilst our troops, inter- mingled with theirs, kept possession of the remainder and finally bivou- acked upon it, exhausted by their gallant efforts, greatly reduced in numbers, and suffering extremely from thirst, yet animated by an in- domitable spirit. In this state of things the long night wore away. Near the middle of it one of their heavy guns was advanced and played with deadly effect upon our troops. Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Hardinge immediately formed Her Majesty's Both Foot and the 1st European Light Infantry ; they were led to the attack by their commanding officers, and animated in their exertions by Lieutenant- Colonel Wood (aide-de-camp to the Lieutenant-General), who was wounded in the outset. The 8oth captured the gun, and the enemy, dismayed by this counter- check, did not venture to press on farther. During the whole night, however, they continued to harass our troops by fire of artillery wherever moonlight discovered our position. But with daylight of 22d came retribution. Our infantry formed line, supported on both flanks by horse-artillery, whilst a fire was opened from our centre by such of our heavy guns as remained effective, aided by a flight of rockets. A masked battery played with great effect upon this point, dismounting our pieces and blowing up our tumbrils. At this moment Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Hardinge placed him- self at the head of the left, whilst I rode at the head of the right wing. Our line advanced, and, unchecked by the enemy's fire, drove them rapidly out of the village of Ferozeshah and their encampment, then changing front to its left on its centre, our force continued to sweep the camp, bearing down all opposition, and dislodged the enemy from their whole position. The line then halted as if on a day of manoeuvre, receiving its two leaders as they rode along its front with gratifying cheers, and displaying the captured standards of the Khalsa army. We had taken upwards of seventy-three pieces of cannon, and were masters of the whole field. The force assumed a position on the ground which it had won, but even here its labours were not to cease. In the course of two hours Sirdar Tej Singh, who had commanded in the great last battle, brought up from the vicinity of Ferozepore fresh battalions and a large field of artillery, supported by 30,000 Ghorepurras hitherto encamped near the river. He drove in our cavalry parties, and made strenuous efforts to regain the position at Ferozeshah. This attempt was defeated ; but its failure had scarcely become manifest when the Sirdar renewed the CH. vi. EVERARD HARCOURT. 249 contest with more troops and a large artillery. He commenced by a combination against our left flank, and when this was frustrated, made such a demonstration against the captured village as compelled us to change our whole front to the right His guns during this manoeuvre maintained an incessant fire, whilst our artillery ammunition being com- pletely expended in these protracted combats, we were unable to answer him with a single shot. I now directed our almost exhausted cavalry to threaten both flanks, at once preparing the infantry to advance in support, which apparently caused him to suddenly cease his fire and to abandon the field. For twenty-four hours not a Sikh has appeared in our front. The remains of the Khalsa army are said to be in full retreat across the Sutlej at Nuggurputhur and Telia, or marching up its left bank towards Hurreekeeputhur, in the greatest confusion and dismay. Of their chiefs, Bahadur Singh is killed ; Lai Singh is said to be wounded ; Mehtab Singh, Adjoodhia Pershad, and Tej Singh, the late Governor of Peshawar, have fled with precipitation. Their camp is the scene of the most awful carnage, and they have abandoned large stores of grain, camp equipage, and ammunition. Thus has apparently terminated this unprovoked and criminal in- vasion of the peaceful provinces under British protection . . . The loss of this army has been heavy how could a hope be formed that it should be otherwise ? Within thirty hours this force stormed an entrenched camp, fought a general action, and sustained two considerable combats with the enemy. Within four days it has dis- lodged from their positions on the left bank of the Sutlej 60,000 Sikh soldiers supported by upwards of 150 pieces of cannon, 108 of which the enemy acknowledged to have lost, and 91 of which are in our possession. In addition to our losses in the battle, the captured camp was found to be everywhere protected by charged mines, by the successive springing of which many brave officers and men have been destroyed. I must bear testimony to the valour displayed in these actions by the whole of the regiments of Her Majesty's service employed, and the East India Company's ist Regiment of European Light Infantry. The native force seconded in a most spirited manner their gallant conduct. (Signed) H. GOUGH, General, Commander-in-Chief East Indies. The success of this decisive and sanguinary battle, although the British forces were ably commanded by General Hugh Gough, was due to the foresight of Sir Henry Hardinge, who had concentrated all available troops to prepare for the great struggle. This pre- 250 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. science is proved by an extract from the Governor- General to the Secret Committee, dated Camp Feroze- pore, 3 ist December 1845 (No. 18): The Sikh army had in 1843 and 1844 moved down upon the river from Lahore, and after remaining there encamped a few weeks, had returned to the capital. These reasons, and above all my extreme anxiety to avoid hostilities, induced me not to make any hasty move- ment with our army, which, when the two armies came into each other's presence, might bring about a collision. The army had, however, been ordered to be in readiness to move at the shortest notice ; and on the 7th and Qth December, when I heard from Lahore that preparations were making on a large scale for artillery stores and all the munitions of war, I wrote to the Commander- in-Chief directing His Excellency on the nth to move up the force from Umballa, from Meerut, and some other stations in the rear. Up to this time no infantry or artillery had been reported to have left Lahore, nor had a single Sikh soldier crossed the Sutlej. Never- theless I considered it prudent to no longer delay the forward movement of our troops, having given to the Lahore Government the most ample time for a reply to our remonstrance. On the Qth at night Captain Nicolson, the assistant political agent at Ferozepore, reported that a portion of the Sikh army had approached to within three miles of the river. On the other hand, the information received by Major Broadfoot on that day from Lahore was not of a character to make it probable that any Sikh movement upon a large scale was meditated. On the loth no intelligence was received from Lahore confirmatory of Captain Nicolson's report, and the usual opinion continued to prevail that the Sikh army would not cross the Sutlej. The troops, however, moved on the loth, nth, and I2th, in pursuance of the orders given on the 7th and 8th, and the whole of the forces destined to move up to the Sutlej were in full march on the I2th. I did not consider the force moving up from Umballa to be sufficient to force its way to relieve Ferozepore, if a large Sikh army with a numerous and well-served park of artillery should attempt to intercept it in its approach to Ferozepore, as in such case it could with difficulty receive any aid from that garrison. Being some days' march in advance of the Commander-in-Chief, I rode over to Loodiana ; and having inspected the fort, the cantonments, and the troops, it appeared to me most advisable that the whole of this force should be moved up with the Umballa force, restricting the defence of Loodiana to the fort, which could be securely garrisoned by the more infirm soldiers of the regiments at that post, unless attacked by heavy artillery, which was a very improbable contingency. CH. vi. EVERARD HARCOURT. 251 The risk to be incurred of leaving the town and the cantonments to be plundered was maturely considered, and I had no hesitation in incurring that risk to insure the strength and sufficiency of the force which might separately be brought into action with the whole of the Sikh army. I therefore ordered Brigadier Wheeler to be prepared to march at the shortest notice. The Umballa force in March was 7500 men, and 36 guns. The Loodiana force amounted to 5000 men, and 12 guns. The Commander-in-Chief concurred in these views ; and this fine body of men by a rapid march on Busseean, an important point where the roads leading from Umballa and Kurnaul meet, formed the advanced column of the army, and secured the supplies which had been laid in at Busseean. Up to the morning of the I2th the information from Lahore had not materially varied ; but by the reports received on that day, the general aspect of affairs appeared more warlike. Still no Sikh aggres- sion had been committed, and no artillery had moved down to the river. On the 1 3th I received precise information that the Sikh army had crossed the Sutlej, and was concentrating in great force on the left bank of the river. The Umballah force at that time had been in movement three days. On this date I issued the proclamation, a copy of which is enclosed. On the 1 4th the British forces moved up by double marches on alternate days, and on the 1 8th reached Moodkee, 20 miles from Ferozepore, after a march of 21 miles. On this day and at this place the whole British force was concentrated with the exception of two European and two native regiments, expected on the following day. The troops were engaged in cooking their meals, when Major Broadfoot received information that the Sikh army was in full march with the intention to surprise the camp. ' The troops immediately stood to their arms and advanced. The result of that short but decisive action was the signal defeat of the enemy at every point, and the capture of 17 guns, the details of which are given in the report of the Commander-in-Chief herewith sent. The troops returned to their camp at midnight, and halted on the 1 9th and 2Oth to refresh the men, to collect the wounded, and to bring in the captured guns. There was no objection to this delay, as it was evident from the preparations and movements of the Sikh army, that its commander was intent upon intercepting the relieving force, and had no intention of risking an attack against Ferozepore. On the 2 ist the Commander-in-Chief having left the baggage of the army, the wounded, and the captured guns, at Moodkee, protected by two regiments of native infantry, marched at four o'clock in the morn- ing by his left, keeping about three or four miles from the enemy's entrenched position at Ferozeshah, in which the enemy had placed 108 pieces of cannon protected by breastworks. 252 TRUE TALES FOR MY GRANDSONS. TALE in. A communication had been made the preceding night with Sir John Littler informing him of the intended line of march, and desiring him to move out with such a part of his force as would not compromise the safety of his troops, and the post. At half-past one o'clock the Umballa force, having marched across the country disencumbered of every de- scription of baggage except the reserve ammunition, formed its junction with Sir John Littler's force, who had moved out of Ferozepore with 5000 men, two regiments of cavalry, and 21 field guns. This combined operation having been effected, the Commander -in -Chief, with my entire concurrence, made his arrangements for the attack of the enemy's position at Ferozeshah, about four miles distant from the point where our forces had united. The British force consisted of 16,700 men and 69 guns, chiefly horse artillery. The Sikh forces varied from 48,000 to 60,000 men, with 108 pieces of cannon of heavy calibre in fixed batteries. You will observe that every soldier who could be brought into our ranks had, by these combinations from Umballah and Loodiana to Ferozepore, been rendered available ; that the force was most efficient, and, notwithstanding the difficulty of the ground intersected with jungle, the vast superiority of the enemy's well -served artillery, and the breast- works behind which their infantry fought, that our British force, parti- cularly our infantry, surmounted every obstacle, capturing that evening and the following morning 70 pieces of artillery, and the whole of the enemy's camp equipage and military stores. I refer to the report of the Commander-in-Chief for the details of this brilliant exploit. The three attempts of the Sikh army, reinforced by Tej Singh's army, to retake their position in the course of the day, were unavailing. The Sikh army then retreated on the fords of the Sutlej, disheartened by the capture of its artillery, and the severe loss it had sustained in killed and wounded, and has since crossed over to the other side of the river. The force thus promptly brought forward from Umballah to the frontier has proved that it was sufficient for the protective object for which it was prepared, to repulse the treachery of the Maharajah's government and the arrogance of the Sikh army. It has further proved that the military precautions taken were most necessary. It has driven the invading force from our territory and punished the mutinous soldiery of a most unscrupulous government The total loss of all ranks in the actions of 2ist and 22