Jules Verne (5 page)

The other blacks were young men from twenty-five to thirty years old,
whose names were Bat (abbreviation of Bartholomew), son of old Tom,
Austin, Acteon, and Hercules, all four well made and vigorous, and who
would bring a high price in the markets of Central Africa. Even though
they had suffered terribly, one could easily recognize in them
magnificent specimens of that strong race, on which a liberal
education, drawn from the numerous schools of North America, had
already impressed its seal.

Tom and his companions then found themselves alone on the "Waldeck"
after the collision, having no means of raising that inert hull,
without even power to leave it, because the two boats on board had been
shattered in the boarding. They were reduced to waiting for the passage
of a ship, while the wreck drifted little by little under the action of
the currents. This action explained why she had been encountered so far
out of her course, for the "Waldeck," having left Melbourne, ought to
be found in much lower latitude.

During the ten days which elapsed between the collision and the moment
when the "Pilgrim" arrived in sight of the shipwrecked vessel the five
blacks were sustained by some food which they had found in the office
of the landing-place. But, not being able to penetrate into the
steward's room, which the water entirely covered, they had had no
spirits to quench their thirst, and they had suffered cruelly, the
water casks fastened to the deck having been stove in by the collision.
Since the night before, Tom and his companions, tortured by thirst, had
become unconscious.

Such was the recital which Tom gave, in a few words, to Captain Hull.
There was no reason to doubt the veracity of the old black. His
companions confirmed all that he had said; besides, the facts pleaded
for the poor men.

Another living being, saved on the wreck, would doubtless have spoken
with the same sincerity if it had been gifted with speech.

It was that dog, that the sight of Negoro seemed to affect in such a
disagreeable manner. There was in that some truly inexplicable
antipathy.

Dingo—that was the name of the dog—belonged to that race of mastiffs
which is peculiar to New Holland. It was not in Australia, however,
that the captain of the "Waldeck" had found it. Two years before Dingo,
wandering half dead of hunger, had been met on the western coast of
Africa, near the mouth of the Congo. The captain of the "Waldeck" had
picked up this fine animal, who, being not very sociable, seemed to be
always regretting some old master, from whom he had been violently
separated, and whom it would be impossible to find again in that desert
country. S. V.—those two letters engraved on his collar—were all that
linked this animal to a past, whose mystery one would seek in vain to
solve.

Dingo, a magnificent and robust beast, larger than the dogs of the
Pyrenees, was then a superb specimen of the New Holland variety of
mastiffs. When it stood up, throwing its head back, it equaled the
height of a man. Its agility—its muscular strength, would be
sufficient for one of those animals which without hesitation attack
jaguars and panthers, and do not fear to face a bear. Its long tail of
thick hair, well stocked and stiff like a lion's tail, its general hue
dark fawn-color, was only varied at the nose by some whitish streaks.
This animal, under the influence of anger, might become formidable, and
it will be understood that Negoro was not satisfied with the reception
given him by this vigorous specimen of the canine race.

Meanwhile, Dingo, if it was not sociable, was not bad. It seemed rather
to be sad. An observation which had been made by old Tom on board the
"Waldeck" was that this dog did not seem to like blacks. It did not
seek to harm them, but certainly it shunned them. May be, on that
African coast where it wandered, it had suffered some bad treatment
from the natives. So, though Tom and his companions were honest men,
Dingo was never drawn toward them. During the ten days that the
shipwrecked dog had passed on the "Waldeck," it had kept at a distance,
feeding itself, they knew not how, but having also suffered cruelly
from thirst.

Such, then, were the survivors of this wreck, which the first surge of
the sea would submerge. No doubt it would have carried only dead bodies
into the depths of the ocean if the unexpected arrival of the
"Pilgrim," herself kept back by calms and contrary winds, had not
permitted Captain Hull to do a work of humanity.

This work had only to be completed by bringing back to their country
the shipwrecked men from the "Waldeck," who, in this shipwreck, had
lost their savings of three years of labor. This is what was going to
be done. The "Pilgrim," after having effected her unloading at
Valparaiso, would ascend the American coast as far as California. There
Tom and his companions would be well received by James W. Weldon—his
generous wife assured them of it—and they would be provided with all
that would be necessary for them to return to the State of Pennsylvania.

These honest men, reassured about the future, had only to thank Mrs.
Weldon and Captain Hull. Certainly they owed them a great deal, and
although they were only poor negroes, perhaps, they did not despair of
some day paying this debt of gratitude.

Meanwhile, the "Pilgrim" had continued her course, making for the east
as much as possible. This lamentable continuance of calms did not cease
to trouble Captain Hull—not that he was uneasy about two or three
weeks' delay in a passage from New Zealand to Valparaiso, but because
of the extra fatigue which this delay might bring to his lady passenger.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Weldon did not complain, and philosophically took her
misfortune in patience.

That same day, February 2d, toward evening, the wreck was lost sight of.

Captain Hull was troubled, in the first place, to accommodate Tom and
his companions as conveniently as possible. The crew's quarters on the
"Pilgrim," built on the deck in the form of a "roufle," would be too
small to hold them. An arrangement was then made to lodge them under
the forecastle. Besides, these honest men, accustomed to rude labors,
could not be hard to please, and with fine weather, warm and
salubrious, this sleeping-place ought to suffice for the whole passage.

The life on board, shaken for a moment from its monotony by this
incident, then went on as usual.

Tom, Austin, Bat, Acteon, and Hercules would indeed wish to make
themselves useful. But with these constant winds, the sails once set,
there was nothing more to do. Meanwhile, when there was a veering
about, the old black and his companions hastened to give a hand to the
crew, and it must be confessed that when the colossal Hercules hauled
some rope, they were aware of it. This vigorous negro, six feet high,
brought in a tackle all by himself.

It was joy for little Jack to look at this giant. He was not afraid of
him, and when Hercules hoisted him up in his arms, as if he were only a
cork baby, there were cries of joy to go on.

"Lift me very high," said little Jack.

"There, Master Jack!" replied Hercules.

"Am I very heavy?"

"I do not even feel you."

"Well, higher still! To the end of your arm!" And Hercules, holding the
child's two little feet in his large hand, walked him about like a
gymnast in a circus. Jack saw himself, tall, taller, which amused him
very much. He even tried to make himself heavy—which the colossus did
not perceive at all.

Dick Sand and Hercules, they were two friends for little Jack. He was
not slow in making himself a third—that was Dingo.

It has been said that Dingo was not a sociable dog. Doubtless that held
good, because the society of the "Waldeck" did not suit it. On board
the "Pilgrim" it was quite another thing. Jack probably knew how to
touch the fine animal's heart. The latter soon took pleasure in playing
with the little boy, whom this play pleased. It was soon discovered
that Dingo was one of those dogs who have a particular taste for
children. Besides, Jack did it no harm. His greatest pleasure was to
transform Dingo into a swift steed, and it is safe to affirm that a
horse of this kind is much superior to a pasteboard quadruped, even
when it has wheels to its feet. So Jack galloped bare-back on the dog,
which let him do it willingly, and, in truth, Jack was no heavier to it
than the half of a jockey to a race-horse.

But what a break each day in the stock of sugar in the store-room!

Dingo soon became a favorite with the whole crew. Alone, Negoro
continued to avoid any encounter with the animal, whose antipathy was
always as strong as it was inexplicable.

Meanwhile, little Jack had not neglected Dick Sand, his friend of old,
for Dingo. All the time that was unclaimed by his duties on board, the
novice passed with the little boy.

Mrs. Weldon, it is needless to say, always regarded this intimacy with
the most complete satisfaction.

One day, February 6th, she spoke of Dick to Captain Hull, and the
captain praised the young novice in the highest terms.

"That boy," he said to Mrs. Weldon, "will be a good seaman some day,
I'll guarantee. He has truly a passion for the sea, and by this passion
he makes up for the theoretical parts of the calling which he has not
yet learned. What he already knows is astonishing, when we think of
the short time he has had to learn."

"It must be added," replied Mrs. Weldon, "that he is also an excellent
person, a true boy, very superior to his age, and who has never merited
any blame since we have known him."

"Yes, he is a good young man," continued the captain, "justly loved and
appreciated by all."

"This cruise finished," said Mrs. Weldon, "I know that my husband's
intention is to have him follow a course of navigation, so that, he may
afterwards obtain a captain's commission."

"And Mr. Weldon is right," replied Captain Hull. "Dick Sand will one
day do honor to the American marine."

"This poor orphan commenced life sadly," observed Mrs. Weldon. "He has
been in a hard school!"

"Doubtless, Mrs. Weldon; but the lessons have not been lost on him. He
has learned that he must make his own way in this world, and he is in a
fair way to do it."

"Yes, the way of duty!"

"Look at him now, Mrs. Weldon," continued Captain Hull. "He is at the
helm, his eye fixed on the point of the foresail. No distraction on the
part of this young novice, as well as no lurch to the ship. Dick Sand
has already the confidence of an old steersman. A good beginning for a
seaman. Our craft, Mrs. Weldon, is one of those in which it is
necessary to begin very young. He who has not been a cabin-boy will
never arrive at being a perfect seaman, at least in the merchant
marine. Everything must be learned, and, consequently, everything must
be at the same time instinctive and rational with the sailor—the
resolution to grasp, as well as the skill to execute."

"Meanwhile, Captain Hull," replied Mrs. Weldon, "good officers are not
lacking in the navy."

"No," replied Captain Hull; "but, in my opinion, the best have almost
all begun their career as children, and, without speaking of Nelson and
a few others, the worst are not those who began by being cabin-boys."

At that moment they saw Cousin Benedict springing up from the rear
companion-way. As usual he was absorbed, and as little conscious of
this world as the Prophet Elias will be when he returns to the earth.

Cousin Benedict began to walk about on the deck like an uneasy spirit,
examining closely the interstices of the netting, rummaging under the
hen-cages, putting his hand between the seams of the deck, there, where
the pitch had scaled off.

"Ah! Cousin Benedict," asked Mrs. Weldon, "do you keep well?"

"Yes—Cousin Weldon—I am well, certainly—but I am in a hurry to get
on land."

"What are you looking for under that bench, Mr. Benedict?" asked
Captain Hull.

"Insects, sir," returned Cousin Benedict. "What do you expect me to
look for, if not insects?"

"Insects! Faith, I must agree with you; but it is not at sea that you
will enrich your collection."

"And why not, sir? It is not impossible to find on board some specimen
of—"

"Cousin Benedict," said Mrs. Weldon, "do you then slander Captain Hull?
His ship is so well kept, that you will return empty-handed from your
hunt."

Captain Hull began to laugh.

"Mrs. Weldon exaggerates," replied he. "However, Mr. Benedict, I
believe you will lose your time rummaging in our cabins."

"Ah! I know it well," cried Cousin Benedict, shrugging his shoulders.
"I have had a good search—"

"But, in the 'Pilgrim's' hold," continued Captain Hull, "perhaps you
will find some cockroaches—subjects of little interest, however."

"Of little interest, those nocturnal orthopters which have incurred the
maledictions of Virgil and Horace!" retorted Cousin Benedict, standing
up straight. "Of little interest, those near relations of the
'periplaneta orientalis' and of the American kakerlac, which
inhabit—"

"Which infest!" said Captain Hull.

"Which reign on board!" retorted Cousin Benedict, fiercely.

"Amiable sovereignty!"

"Ah! you are not an entomologist, sir?"

Never at my own expense."

"Now, Cousin Benedict," said Mrs. Weldon, smiling, "do not wish us to
be devoured for love of science."

"I wish, nothing, Cousin Weldon," replied, the fiery entomologist,
"except to be able to add to my collection some rare subject which
might do it honor."

"Are you not satisfied, then, with the conquests that you have made in
New Zealand?"

"Yes, truly, Cousin Weldon. I have been rather fortunate in conquering
one of those new staphylins which till now had only been found some
hundreds of miles further, in New Caledonia."