Jules Verne (4 page)

"If there be only a dog there, Mr. Hull," said Mrs. "Weldon," we shall
save it."

"Yes, yes!" cried little Jack, "we shall save it. I shall give it
something to eat! It will love us well! Mama, I am going to bring it a
piece of sugar!"

"Stay still, my child," replied Mrs. Weldon smiling. "I believe that
the poor animal is dying of hunger, and it will prefer a good mess to
your morsel of sugar."

"Well, then, let it have my soup," cried little Jack. "I can do without
it very well."

At that moment the barking was more distinctly heard. Three hundred
feet, at the most, separated the two ships. Almost immediately a dog of
great height appeared on the starboard netting, and clung there,
barking more despairingly than ever.

"Howik," said Captain Hull, turning toward the master of the
"Pilgrim's" crew, "heave to, and lower the small boat."

"Hold on, my dog, hold on!" cried little Jack to the animal, which
seemed to answer him with a half-stifled bark.

The "Pilgrim's" sails were rapidly furled, so that the ship should
remain almost motionless, less than half a cable's length from the
wreck.

The boat was brought alongside. Captain Hull, Dick Sand and two sailors
got into it at once.

The dog barked all the time. It tried to hold on to the netting, but
every moment it fell back on the deck. One would say that its barks
were no longer addressed to those who were coming to him. Were they
then addressed to some sailors or passengers imprisoned in this ship?

"Is there, then, on board some shipwrecked one who has survived?" Mrs.
Weldon asked herself.

A few strokes of the oars and the "Pilgrim's" boat would reach the
capsized hull.

But, suddenly, the dog's manner changed. Furious barks succeeded its
first barks inviting the rescuers to come. The most violent anger
excited the singular animal.

"What can be the matter with that dog?" said Captain Hull, while the
boat was turning the stern of the vessel, so as to come alongside of
the part of the deck lying under the water.

What Captain Hull could not then observe, what could not be noticed
even on board the "Pilgrim," was that the dog's fury manifested itself
just at the moment when Negoro, leaving his kitchen, had just come
toward the forecastle.

Did the dog then know and recognize the master cook? It was very
improbable.

However that may be, after looking at the dog, without showing any
surprise, Negoro, who, however, frowned for an instant, returned to the
crew's quarters.

Meanwhile the boat had rounded the stern of the ship. Her aftboard
carried this single name: "Waldeck."

"Waldeck," and no designation of the port attached. But, by the form of
the hull, by certain details which a sailor seizes at the first glance,
Captain Hull had, indeed, discovered that this ship was of American
construction. Besides, her name confirmed it. And now, this hull, it
was all that remained of a large brig of five hundred tons.

At the "Waldeck's" prow a large opening indicated the place where the
collision had occurred. In consequence of the capsizing of the hull,
this opening was then five or six feet above the water—which explained
why the brig had not yet foundered.

On the deck, which Captain Hull saw in its whole extent, there was
nobody.

The dog, having left the netting, had just let itself slip as far as
the central hatch, which was open; and it barked partly toward the
interior, partly toward the exterior.

"It is very certain that this animal is not alone on board!" observed
Dick Sand.

"No, in truth!" replied Captain Hull.

The boat then skirted the larboard netting, which was half under water.
A somewhat strong swell of the sea would certainly submerge the
"Waldeck" in a few moments.

The brig's deck had been swept from one end to the other. There was
nothing left except the stumps of the mainmast and of the mizzen-mast,
both broken off two feet above the scuttles, and which had fallen in
the collision, carrying away shrouds, back-stays, and rigging.
Meanwhile, as far as the eye could see, no wreck was visible around the
"Waldeck"—which seemed to indicate that the catastrophe was already
several days old.

"If some unhappy creatures have survived the collision," said Captain
Hull, "it is probable that either hunger or thirst has finished them,
for the water must have gained the store-room. There are only dead
bodies on board!"

"No," cried Dick Sand, "no! The dog would not bark that way. There are
living beings on board!"

At that moment the animal, responding to the call of the novice, slid
to the sea, and swam painfully toward the boat, for it seemed to be
exhausted.

They took it in, and it rushed eagerly, not for a piece of bread that
Dick Sand offered it first, but to a half-tub which contained a little
fresh water.

"This poor animal is dying of thirst!" cried Dick Sand.

The boat then sought a favorable place to board the "Waldeck" more
easily, and for that purpose it drew away a few strokes. The dog
evidently thought that its rescuers did not wish to go on board, for he
seized Dick Sand by his jacket, and his lamentable barks commenced
again with new strength.

They understood it. Its pantomime and its language were as clear as a
man's language could be. The boat was brought immediately as far as the
larboard cat-head. There the two sailors moored it firmly, while
Captain Hull and Dick Sand, setting foot on the deck at the same time
as the dog, raised themselves, not without difficulty, to the hatch
which opened between the stumps of the two masts.

By this hatch the two made their way into the hold.

The "Waldeck's" hold, half full of water, contained no goods. The brig
sailed with ballast—a ballast of sand which had slid to larboard and
which helped to keep the ship on her side. On that head, then, there
was no salvage to effect.

"Nobody here," said Captain Hull.

"Nobody," replied the novice, after having gone to the foremost part of
the hold.

But the dog, which was on the deck, kept on barking and seemed to call
the captain's attention more imperatively.

"Let us go up again," said Captain Hull to the novice.

Both appeared again on the deck.

The dog, running to them, sought to draw them to the poop.

They followed it.

There, in the square, five bodies—undoubtedly five corpses—were lying
on the floor.

By the daylight which entered in waves by the opening, Captain Hull
discovered the bodies of five negroes.

Dick Sand, going from one to the other, thought he felt that the
unfortunates were still breathing.

"On board! on board!" cried Captain Hull.

The two sailors who took care of the boat were called, and helped to
carry the shipwrecked men out of the poop.

This was not without difficulty, but two minutes after, the five blacks
were laid in the boat, without being at all conscious that any one was
trying to save them. A few drops of cordial, then a little fresh water
prudently administered, might, perhaps, recall them to life.

The "Pilgrim" remained a half cable's length from the wreck, and the
boat would soon reach her.

A girt-line was let down from the main-yard, and each of the blacks
drawn up separately reposed at last on the "Pilgrim's" deck.

The dog had accompanied them.

"The unhappy creatures!" cried Mrs. Weldon, on perceiving those poor
men, who were only inert bodies.

"They are alive, Mrs. Weldon. We shall save them. Yes, we shall save
them," cried Dick Sand.

"What has happened to them?" demanded Cousin Benedict.

"Wait till they can speak," replied Captain Hull, "and they will tell
us their history. But first of all, let us make them drink a little
water, in which we shall mix a few drops of rum." Then, turning round:
"Negoro!" he called.

At that name the dog stood up as if it knew the sound, its hair
bristling, its mouth open.

Meanwhile, the cook did not appear.

"Negoro!" repeated Captain Hull.

The dog again gave signs of extreme fury.

Negoro left the kitchen.

Hardly had he shown himself on the deck, than the dog sprang on him and
wanted to jump at his throat.

With a blow from the poker with which he was armed, the cook drove away
the animal, which some of the sailors succeeded in holding.

"Do you know this dog?" Captain Hull asked the master cook.

"I?" replied Negoro. "I have never seen it."

"That is singular," murmured Dick Sand.

The slave trade was still carried on, on a large scale, in all
equinoctial Africa. Notwithstanding the English and French cruisers,
ships loaded with slaves leave the coasts of Angola and Mozambique
every year to transport negroes to various parts of the world, and, it
must be said, of the civilized world.

Captain Hull was not ignorant of it. Though these parts were not
ordinarily frequented by slave-ships, he asked himself if these blacks,
whose salvage he had just effected, were not the survivors of a cargo
of slaves that the "Waldeck" was going to sell to some Pacific colony.
At all events, if that was so, the blacks became free again by the sole
act of setting foot on his deck, and he longed to tell it to them.

Meanwhile the most earnest care had been lavished on the shipwrecked
men from the "Waldeck." Mrs. Weldon, aided by Nan and Dick Sand, had
administered to them a little of that good fresh water of which they
must have been deprived for several days, and that, with some
nourishment, sufficed to restore them to life.

The eldest of these blacks—he might be about sixty years old—was soon
able to speak, and he could answer in English the questions which were
addressed to him.

"The ship which carried you was run into?" asked Captain Hull, first of
all.

"Yes," replied the old black. "Ten days ago our ship was struck, during
a very dark night. We were asleep—"

"But the men of the 'Waldeck'—what has become of them?"

"They were no longer there, sir, when my companions and I reached the
deck."

"Then, was the crew able to jump on board the ship which struck the
'Waldeck'?" demanded Captain Hull.

"Perhaps, and we must indeed hope so for their sakes."

"And that ship, after the collision, did it not return to pick you up?"

"No."

"Did she then go down herself?"

"She did not founder," replied the old black, shaking his head, "for we
could see her running away in the night."

This fact, which was attested by all the survivors of the "Waldeck,"
may appear incredible. It is only too true, however, that captains,
after some terrible collision, due to their imprudence, have often
taken flight without troubling themselves about the unfortunate ones
whom they had put in danger, and without endeavoring to carry
assistance to them.

That drivers do as much and leave to others, on the public way, the
trouble of repairing the misfortune which they have caused, that is
indeed to be condemned. Still, their victims are assured of finding
immediate help. But, that men to men, abandon each other thus at sea,
it is not to be believed, it is a shame!

Meanwhile, Captain Hull knew several examples of such inhumanity, and
he was obliged to tell Mrs. Weldon that such facts, monstrous as they
might be, were unhappily not rare.

Then, continuing:

"Whence came the 'Waldeck?'" he asked.

"From Melbourne."

"Then you are not slaves?"

"No, sir!" the old black answered quickly, as he stood up straight. "We
are subjects of the State of Pennsylvania, and citizens of free
America!"

"My friends," replied Captain Hull, "believe me that you have not
compromised your liberty in coming on board of the American brig, the
'Pilgrim.'"

In fact, the five blacks which the "Waldeck" carried belonged to the
State of Pennsylvania. The oldest, sold in Africa as a slave at the age
of six years, then brought to the United States, had been freed already
many years ago by the Emancipation Proclamation. As to his companions,
much younger than he, sons of slaves liberated before their birth, they
were born free; no white had ever had the right of property over them.
They did not even speak that "negro" language, which does not use the
article, and only knows the infinitive of the verbs—a language which
has disappeared little by little, indeed, since the anti-slavery war.
These blacks had, then, freely left the United States, and they were
returning to it freely.

As they told Captain Hull, they were engaged as laborers at an
Englishman's who owned a vast mine near Melbourne, in Southern
Australia. There they had passed three years, with great profit to
themselves; their engagement ended, they had wished to return to
America.

They then had embarked on the "Waldeck," paying their passage like
ordinary passengers. On the 5th of December they left Melbourne, and
seventeen days after, during a very black night, the "Waldeck" had been
struck by a large steamer.

The blacks were in bed. A few seconds after the collision, which was
terrible, they rushed on the deck.

Already the ship's masts had fallen, and the "Waldeck" was lying on the
side; but she would not sink, the water not having invaded the hold
sufficiently to cause it.

As to the captain and crew of the "Waldeck," all had disappeared,
whether some had been precipitated into the sea, whether others were
caught on the rigging of the colliding ship, which, after the
collision, had fled to return no more.

The five blacks were left alone on board, on a half-capsized hull,
twelve hundred miles from any land.

Then oldest of the negroes was named Tom. His age, as well as his
energetic character, and his experience, often put to the proof during
a long life of labor, made him the natural head of the companions who
were engaged with him.