Un capitaine de quinze ans. English

by Jules Verne

  CHAPTER XIX.

  AN ATTACK.

  The canoe inclined to the west readily enough; the fall in theriver-bed was so sudden that the current remained quite unaffected bythe cataract at a distance of three hundred yards.

  On the bank were woods so dense that sunlight could not penetrate theshade. Dick was conscious of a sad misgiving when he looked at thecharacter of the territory through which they must necessarily pass. Itdid not seem practicable by any means to convey the canoe below thefalls.

  As they neared the shore, Dingo became intensely agitated. At firstDick suspected that a wild beast or a native might be lurking in thepapyrus, but it soon became obvious that the dog was excited by griefrather than by rage.

  "Dingo is crying," said Jack; "poor Dingo!" and the child laid his armsover the creature's neck.

  The dog, however, was too impatient to be caressed; bounding away, hesprang into the water, swam across the twenty feet that intervenedbetween the shore, and disappeared in the grass.

  In a few moments the boat had glided on to a carpet of confervas andother aquatic plants, starting a few kingfishers and some snow-whiteherons. Hercules moored it to the stump of a tree, and the travellerswent ashore.

  There was no pathway through the forest, only the trampled moss showedthat the place had been recently visited either by animals or men.

  Upon the smooth wood were two great letters in dingyred.]

  Dick took his gun and Hercules his hatchet, and they set out to searchfor Dingo. They had not far to go before they saw him with his noseclose to the ground, manifestly following a scent; the animal raisedhis head for a moment, as if beckoning them to follow, and kept on tillhe reached an old sycamore-stump. Having called out to the rest of theparty to join them, Dick made his way farther into the wood till he gotup to Dingo, who was whining piteously at the entrance of a dilapidatedhut.

  The rest were not long in following, and they all entered the huttogether. The floor was strewn with bones whitened by exposure.

  "Some one has died here," said Mrs. Weldon.

  "Perhaps," added Dick, as if struck by a sudden thought, "it wasDingo's old master. Look at him! he is pointing with his paw."

  The portion of the sycamore-trunk which formed the farther side of thehut had been stripped of its bark, and upon the smooth wood were twogreat letters in dingy red almost effaced by time, but yet plain enoughto be distinguished.

  "S. V.," cried Dick, as he looked where the dog's paw rested; "the sameinitials that Dingo has upon his collar. There can be no mistake. S. V."

  A small copper box, green with verdigris, caught his eye, and he pickedit up. It was open, but contained a scrap of discoloured paper. Thewriting upon this consisted of a few sentences, of which only detachedwords could be made out, but they revealed the sad truth only tooplainly.

  "Robbed by Negoro--murdered--Dingo--help--Negoro guide--120 miles fromcoast--December 3rd, 1871--write no more.

  "S. VERNON."

  Here was the clue to a melancholy story. Samuel Vernon, under theguidance of Negoro, and taking with him his dog Dingo, had set out onan exploration of a district of Central Africa; he had taken aconsiderable quantity of money to procure the necessary supplies on theway, and this had excited the cupidity of his guide, who seized theopportunity, whilst they were encamping on the banks of the Congo, toassassinate his employer, and get possession of his property. Negoro,however, had not escaped; he had fallen into the hands of thePortuguese, by whom he was recognized as an agent of the slave-dealerAlvez, and condemned to spend the rest of his days in prison. Hecontrived after a while to make his escape, and, as has been alreadymentioned, found his way to New Zealand, whence he had returned bysecuring an engagement on board the "Pilgrim." Between the time when hewas attacked by Negoro and the moment of his death, Vernon had managedto write the few brief lines of which the fragments still survived, andto deposit the document in the box from which the money had beenstolen, and by a last effort had traced out his initials in blood uponthe naked wood which formed the wall of the hut. For many days Dingowatched beside his master, and throughout that time his eyes wereresting so perpetually upon the two crimson letters in front of him,that mere instinct seemed to fasten them indelibly on his memory.Quitting his watch one day, perhaps to pacify his hunger, the dogwandered to the coast, where he was picked up by the captain of the"Waldeck," afterwards to be transferred to the very ship on which hisowner's murderer had been engaged as cook.

  All throughout this time poor Vernon's bones had been bleaching in theAfrican forest, and the first resolution of Dick and Mrs. Weldon was togive the residue of his remains some semblance of a decent burial. Theywere just proceeding to their task when Dingo gave a furious growl, anddashed out of the hut; another moment, and a terrible shriek made itevident that he was in conflict with some dread antagonist.

  Hercules was quickly in pursuit, and the whole party followed in timeto witness the giant hurl himself upon a man with whom already Dingowas in mortal combat.

  The dog was griping the man by the throat]

  The dog was griping the man by the throat, the man was lifting hiscutlass high above the head of the dog.

  That man was Negoro. The rascal, on getting his letter at Kazonnde,instead of embarking at once for America, had left his native escortfor a while, and returned to the scene of his crime to secure thetreasure which he had left buried at a little distance in a spot thathe had marked. At this very moment he was in the act of digging up thegold he had concealed; some glistening coins scattered here and therebetrayed his purpose; but in the midst of his labours he had beenstartled by the dashing forward of a dog; another instant, and the doghad fixed itself upon his throat, whilst he, in an agony ofdesperation, had drawn his cutlass and plunged it deep into thecreature's side.

  Hercules came up at the very climax of the death-struggle.

  "You villain! you accursed villain! I have you now!" he cried, about toseize hold of his victim.

  But vengeance was already accomplished. Negoro gave no sign of life;death had overtaken him on the very scene of his guilt. Dingo, too, hadreceived a mortal wound; he dragged himself back to the hut, lay downbeside the remains of his master, and expired.

  The sad task of burying Vernon's bones, and laying his faithful dogbeside them having been accomplished, the whole party was obliged toturn their thoughts to their own safety. Although Negoro was dead, itas very likely that the natives that he had taken with him were at nogreat distance, and would come to search for him.

  A hurried conference was held as to what steps had best be taken. Thefew words traceable on the paper made them aware that they were on thebanks of the Congo, and that they were still 120 miles from the coast.The fall just ahead was probably the cataract of Memo, but whatever itwas, no doubt it effectually barred their farther progress by water.There seemed no alternative but that they should make their way by onebank or the other a mile or two below the waterfall, and thereconstruct a raft on which once again they could drift down the stream.The question that pressed for immediate settlement was which bank itshould be. Here, on the left bank, would be the greater risk ofencountering the negro escort of Negoro, while as to the farther shorethey could not tell what obstacles it might present.

  Altogether Mrs. Weldon advocated trying the other side, but Dickinsisted upon crossing first by himself to ascertain whether an advanceby that route were really practicable.

  "The river is only about 100 yards wide," he urged; "I can soon getacross. I shall leave Hercules to look after you all."

  Mrs. Weldon demurred for a while, but Dick seemed resolute, and as hepromised to take his gun and not to attempt to land if he saw the leastsymptom of danger, she at last consented, but with so much reluctancethat even after he had entered the canoe she said,--

  "I think, Dick, it would be really better for us all to go together."

  "No, Mrs. Weldon, indeed, no; I am sure it is best for me to go alone;I shall be back in an hour."

  "If it must b
e so, it must," said the lady.

  "Keep a sharp look-out, Hercules!" cried the youth cheerily, as hepushed off from the land.

  The strength of the current was by no means violent, but quite enoughto make the direction of Dick's course somewhat oblique. The roar ofthe cataract reverberated in his ears, and the spray, wafted by thewesterly wind, brushed lightly past his face, and he shuddered as hefelt how near they must have been to destruction if he had relaxed hiswatch throughout the night.

  It took him hardly a quarter of an hour to reach the opposite bank, andhe was just preparing to land when there arose a tremendous shout fromabout a dozen natives, who, rushing forward, began to tear away thecanopy of grass with which the canoe was covered.

  Dick's horror was great. It would have been greater still if he hadknown that they were cannibals. They were the natives settled at thelacustrine village higher up the river. When the piece of thatch hadbeen knocked off in passing the piles a glimpse had been caught of thepassengers below, and aware that the cataract ahead must ultimatelybring them to a standstill, the eager barbarians had followed thempersistently day by day for the last eight days.

  Now they thought they had secured their prize, but loud was their yellof disappointment when on stripping off the thatch they found only oneperson, and that a mere boy, standing beneath it.

  Dick stood as calmly as he could at the bow, and pointed his guntowards the savages, who were sufficiently acquainted with the natureof fire-arms to make them afraid to attack him.

  Mrs. Weldon with the others, in their eagerness to watch Dick'smovements, had remained standing upon the shore of the river, and atthis instant were caught sight of by one of the natives, who pointedthem out to his companions. A sudden impulse seized the whole of them,and they sprang into the canoe; there seemed to be a practised handamongst them, which caught hold of the rudder-oar, and the little craftwas quickly on its way back.

  Although he gave up all as now well-nigh lost, Dick neither moved norspoke. He had one lingering hope yet left. Was it not possible even nowthat by sacrificing his own life he could save the lives of those thatwere entrusted to him?

  When the canoe had come near enough to the shore for his voice to beheard, he shouted with all his might,--

  "Fly, Mrs. Weldon; fly, all of you; fly for your lives!"

  But neither Mrs. Weldon nor Hercules stirred; they seemed rooted to theground.

  "Fly, fly, fly!" he continued shouting.

  But though he knew they must hear him, yet he saw them make no effortto escape. He understood their meaning; of what avail was flight whenthe savages would be upon their track in a few minutes after?

  A sudden thought crossed his mind. He raised his gun and fired at theman who was steering; the bullet shattered the rudder-scull intofragments.

  The cannibals uttered a yell of terror. Deprived of guidance, the canoewas at the mercy of the current, and, borne along with increasingspeed, was soon within a hundred feet of the cataract.

  The anxious watchers on the bank instantly discerned Dick's purpose,and understood that in order to save them he had formed the resolutionof precipitating himself with the savages into the seething waters.

  Nothing could avail to arrest the swift descent. Mrs Weldon in an agonyof despair waved her hands in a last sad farewell, Jack and Benedictseemed paralyzed, whilst Hercules involuntarily extended his greatstrong arm that was powerless to aid.

  Suddenly the natives, impelled by a last frantic effort to reach theshore, plunged into the water, but then movement capsized the boat.

  Face to face with death, Dick lost nothing of his indomitable presenceof mind. Might not that light canoe, floating bottom upwards, be madethe means for yet another grasp at life? The danger that threatened himwas twofold, there was the risk of suffocation as well as the peril ofbeing drowned; could not the inverted canoe be used for a kind of floatat once to keep his head above water and to serve as a screen from therushing air? He had some faint recollection of how it had been provedpossible under some such conditions to descend in safety the falls ofNiagara.

  Quick as lightning he seized hold of the cross-bench of the canoe, andwith his head out of water beneath the upturned keel, he was dasheddown the furious and well-nigh perpendicular fall.

  The craft sank deep into the abyss, but rose quickly again to thesurface. Here was Dick's chance, he was a good swimmer, and his lifedepended now upon his strength of arm.

  It was a hard struggle, but he succeeded. In a quarter of an hour hehad landed on the left hand bank, where he was greeted with the joyfulcongratulations of his friends, who had hurried to the foot of the fallto assure themselves of his fate.

  The bullet shattered the rudder scull into fragments]

  The cannibals had all disappeared in the surging waters. Unprotected intheir fall, they had doubtless ceased to breathe before reaching thelowest depths of the cataract where their lifeless bodies would soon bedashed to pieces against the sharp rocks that were scattered along thelower course of the stream.

  CHAPTER XX.

  A HAPPY REUNION.

  Two days after Dick's marvellous deliverance the party had the goodfortune to fall in with a caravan of honest Portuguese ivory-traders ontheir way to Emboma, at the mouth of the Congo. They rendered thefugitives every assistance, and thus enabled them to reach the coastwithout further discomfort.

  This meeting with the caravan was a most fortunate occurrence, as anyproject of launching a raft upon the Zaire would have been quiteimpracticable, the river between the Ntemo and Yellala Falls being acontinuous series of cataracts. Stanley counted as many as sixty-two,and it was hereabouts that that brave traveller sustained the last ofthirty-one conflicts with the natives, escaping almost by a miraclefrom the Mbelo cataract.

  Before the middle of August the party arrived at Emboma, where theywere hospitably received by M. Motta Viega and Mr. Harrison. A steamerwas just on the point of starting for the Isthmus of Panama; in thisthey took their passage, and in due time set foot once more uponAmerican soil.

  Forthwith a message was despatched to Mr. Weldon, apprising him of thereturn of the wife and child over whose loss he had mourned so long Onthe 25th the railroad deposited the travellers at San Francisco, theonly thing to mar their happiness being the recollection that Tom andhis partners were not with them to share their joy.

  Mr. Weldon had every reason to congratulate himself that Negoro hadfailed to reach him. No doubt he would have been ready to sacrifice thebulk of his fortune, and without a moment's hesitation would have setout for the coast of Africa, but who could question that he would therehave been exposed to the vilest treachery? He felt that to Dick Sandsand to Hercules he owed a debt of gratitude that it would be impossibleto repay; Dick assumed more than ever the place of an adopted son,whilst the brave negro was regarded as a true and faithful friend.

  Cousin Benedict, it must be owned, failed to share for long the generaljoy. After giving Mr. Weldon a hasty shake of the hand, he hurried offto his private room, and resumed his studies almost as if they hadnever been interrupted. He set himself vigorously to work with thedesign of producing an elaborate treatise upon the "HexapodesBenedictus" hitherto unknown to entomological research. Here in hisprivate chamber spectacles and magnifying-glass were ready for his use,and he was now able for the first time with the aid of properappliances to examine the unique production of Central Africa.

  A shriek of horror and disappointment escaped his lips. The HexapodesBenedictus was not a hexapod at all. It was a common spider. Hercules,in catching it, had unfortunately broken off its two front legs, andBenedict, almost blind as he was, had failed to detect the accident.His chagrin was most pitiable, the wonderful discovery that was to haveexalted his name high in the annals of science belonged simply to thecommon order of the arachnidae The blow to his aspirations was veryheavy; it brought on a fit of illness from which it took him some timeto recover.

  For the next three years Dick was entrusted with the education oflittle Jack during the
intervals he could spare from the prosecution ofhis own studies, into which he threw himself with an energy quickenedby a kind of remorse.

  "If only I had known what a seaman ought to know when I was left tomyself on board the 'Pilgrim,'" he would continually say, "what miseryand suffering we might have been spared!"

  So diligently did he apply himself to the technical branches of hisprofession that at the age of eighteen he received a specialcertificate of honour, and was at once raised to the rank of a captainin Mr. Weldon's firm.

  Thus by his industry and good conduct did the poor foundling of SandyHook rise to a post of distinction. In spite of his youth, he commandeduniversal respect; his native modesty and straightforwardness neverfailed him, and for his own part, he seemed to be unconscious of thosefine traits in his character which had impelled him to deeds that madehim little short of a hero.

  His leisure moments, however, were often troubled by one source ofsadness; he could never forget the four negroes for whose misfortuneshe held himself by his own inexperience to be in a way responsible.Mrs. Weldon thoroughly shared his regret, and would have made manysacrifices to discover what had become of them. This anxiety was atlength relieved.

  Owing to the large correspondence of Mr. Weldon in almost every quarterof the world, it was discovered that the whole of them had been sold inone lot, and that they were now in Madagascar. Without listening for amoment to Dick's proposal to apply all his savings to effect theirliberation, Mr. Weldon set his own agents to negotiate for theirfreedom, and on the 15th of November, 1877, Tom, Bat, Actaeon, andAustin awaited their welcome at the merchant's door. It is needless tosay how warm were the greetings they received.

  Out of all the survivors of the "Pilgrim" that had been cast upon thefatal coast of Africa, old Nan alone was wanting to complete thenumber. Considering what they had all undergone, and the perils towhich they had been exposed, it seemed little short of a miracle thatshe and poor Dingo should be the only victims.

  High was the festivity that night in the house of the Californianmerchant, and the toast, proposed at Mrs. Weldon's request, that wasreceived with the loudest acclamation was

  "DICK SANDS, THE BOY CAPTAIN!"

  THE END.