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قراءة كتاب Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or, Life among the Kaffirs
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Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or, Life among the Kaffirs
await death; for there was little chance that any there would survive to take home those last solemn farewells.
One by one I saw my companions borne overboard by the giant waves till I grew sick at the thought that my turn would be the next. But not yet—the brave captain went first. Then, suddenly, death seemed to seize me—the sea was all about me—its horrible rushing was in my ears, and I felt sinking—sinking to the very bottom of the ocean. I believe for the moment I lost consciousness; but when I came to, I was again on the surface of the waters, rising like a cork upon the waves.
So I floated here and there for, it appeared to me, hours—though it could not have been one—alone on the ocean—alone, for all I knew; for, as far as I could see, when on the top of some great billow, not a vestige of the fine ship, or her crew, was in sight.
Abruptly, almost as abruptly as it had risen, the hurricane began to abate. As it did so, I became aware of the sound, so well known to sailors, of breakers in the direction to which I was driving head first. In vain I strove to turn, to ascertain whether the breakers to which I was evidently hastening were created by rocks above or below the surface. If the former, with such a surf running, I must assuredly be dashed to pieces. But all I could see was a vast expanse of white boiling foam, into the midst of which the next wave flung me, to be tossed among a mass of sharp pointed rocks. Existence here would have been of short duration had not another billow, more kind than the first, raised me in its arms and thrown me over the reef into comparatively calm water. A few seconds after I fancied my feet touched land. I waited anxiously for the next wave. Yes—land it was, and oh, thank Heaven! the tide was running in.
Releasing one of my arms, I strove to aid my progress; but, as if wearied of its terrible play, the ocean at last cast me, rolling over and over, on to a sandy beach. Fearful that it might repent of its kindness, and drag me back again, I managed to free myself entirely from the spar. Then, faint and staggering—for, besides my exertions, the jagged rocks had inflicted many bruises on my person—I crawled far up the beach, till my hand, touching some plant that I knew by its fresh dryness had never been covered by the salt sea, assured me I was safe; then I sank down insensible, utterly ignorant, nor at the moment caring, upon what portion of the African coast I had been thrown.
Chapter Three.
Companions in Trouble—A Surprise.
It was, as far as I could calculate, some three hours after sunrise, before I returned to consciousness, to find myself weak and in some little pain from the bruises occasioned by the reefs, among which the sea had so unmercilessly tossed me.
My first glance rested on my clothes, only a pair of duck trousers and a red shirt, which to my no little vexation, I found had suffered but slightly better than their master, for they were rent and torn in various places.
With difficulty, rising partly up, for every limb was stiff, I in some curiosity and a great deal of anxiety, looked around.
The sea, in wonderful contrast to the phase under which I had last seen it, now lay forty yards from me beneath the tropical sun; its emerald green surface broken only by minute waves with their crests of flashing crystals, which broke with a deceitful murmur like the purring of a tiger, on the beach.
In its direction I could learn nothing of the locality in which my fate had thrown me, so turning I looked behind.
I was perfectly ignorant of Southern scenery, and as my eyes rested on it I was struck with wonder and admiration. Shelving up, gently here—with boldness there—was a sweep of land covered by forests of noble trees, many of a species with which, at that time, I was perfectly unacquainted. Beyond were gently undulating hills, clothed by a strange and splendid vegetation, intermingled—for the view was of some extent—with the rugged face of rocks, their hardness softened by masses of clinging plant.
Never had I seen a more beautiful landscape, nor one so eloquent of repose—though there was an immense drawback to a man in my position. I could not perceive a single sign of humanity. From the appearance, I might have fancied myself washed upon some terrestrial paradise, yet untrodden by the foot of man. I could not remain contemplating this Southern Eden for long, however, as nature began to assert itself, and I became aware that I was exceedingly hungry, so staggering to my feet I determined to go, cautiously, in search of something to stay it, and also to inspect the country. First, however, feeling very sorry respecting my companions, I kneeled down and fervently thanked God who had preserved me so far, and humbly beseeching Him in His mercy yet to continue with me in my trouble. Trouble truly, for I had been traveller enough in strange lands to know that, especially in this part of the world, these quiet beautiful spots of nature, not unfrequently made homes for all manner of wild animals, and tribes of men but little less savage in their disposition.
Therefore, I regarded the cool shade of the forest trees with distrust, knowing that, from the luxuriant bushes of the flowering mimosa, even at that moment the large eyes of some fierce inhabitant of the forest—the lion, tiger, or leopard, for instance—might be waiting to seize its prey. For which reason, though a tropical sun was pouring its intense rays on my head, I, being so utterly unarmed, merely skirted the forest, seeking among its numerous and varied vegetation for some kind of fruit to stay my craving. One plant I speedily recognised—that was the banana; the fruit of this tree, now so generally known, is usually from four to five inches long, shaped something like a cucumber, and grows in great bunches that weigh twelve pounds and upwards. Here, however, I was perfectly astonished at their immense size, doubling, if not trebling, those in other parts of the world. With the aid of a stick and some climbing I succeeded in procuring enough to satisfy my hunger, and in doing so startled a swarm of birds, which flew so speedily away that I could but see numerous flashes through the boughs of bright plumage, while the screaming and jabbering of monkeys in the depths of the forest assured me of those gentlemen’s presence.
My wants respecting breakfast being appeased, I determined to make for a ridge of rocks that, running into the sea, formed a small promontory, for the shore was a small secluded bay, which easily accounted for the calmness of the water when I had passed the reef. I hoped there to find shelter from the broiling sun, that was beginning most unpleasantly to blister my skin where it showed through the tatters in my clothes, while as to my brain, I believe it would have been scorched up long ago had I not gathered a small banana leaf—I say small, for they grow to two yards in length—and fastened it over my head with a piece of the stem of a beautiful parasitical plant which I found growing over nearly all the forest trees, climbing up to their topmost branches, and from thence sending a mass of slender threads, from branch to branch, in graceful festoons to the ground. The name of this beautiful creeper I learned later to be Cynanchum obtusifolium; the Dutch settlers, however, call it Bavian-tow, or baboon ropes, because by their aid baboons and monkeys climb the trees to gather the fruit. The Kaffirs also use these ropes to lash together the thatch of their huts.
It may be thought, if these creepers are strong enough to support baboons, and