STORY ONE, CHAPTER 7.
CAUSE FOR GRATITUDE.
The longest night must come to an end. Many people, when kept awake ina comfortable bed with the toothache or some other pain, or perhaps witha little fever, think themselves very miserable, and much to be pitied.Peter Pongo and I were rather worse off, tossing about on the gratingout on the Atlantic there, not having anything to eat, and not knowingany moment when we might be washed away from our unsteady raft. How weheld on during all that night I cannot tell. The light came at last.We knew where the east was by seeing a bright red streak in the sky. Wekept our eyes turned eagerly in that direction, for we fancied thatthere we should see the schooner. Our view, however, was very muchcircumscribed, and it was only as we were tossed up to the top of a seathat we could obtain even a glimpse of the horizon. We had scarcelytime to assure ourselves whether or not there was a sail there beforeeither a foam-topped sea jumped up before us, or we sank down again intothe trough. We gazed, but we gazed in vain. No sail was to be seen.In spite of our almost hopeless position we became very hungry, and,what was worse, thirsty also. As the sun rose and struck down on ourheads my thirst increased. I felt certain that I could not hold on muchlonger. Peter Pongo did not care so much about the hot sun, but he wasvery hungry. Suddenly I saw some red objects floating near us in thewater. I looked again. Oh, how eager I felt to get them--they wereoranges. They were too far off to reach. I was afraid to quit thegrating. I had no strength left to swim. No sooner did Peter see themthan he slid off the raft, and swimming round them collected a dozen ormore before him, and pushing them on enabled me to pick them out of thewater. I felt greatly relieved when he was once more safe on thegrating. Oh, how delicious those oranges were! They were the means, Idoubt not, of preserving our lives. They quenched our thirst, but theycould not stop the pangs of hunger. The sun rose higher and higher,till we guessed it was noon. The wind went down, but the sea stillcontinued to tumble us about most uncomfortably. Both of us werebecoming very drowsy when we started up--a loud shout sounded in ourears. "Why, lads, you keep a bad look-out on board your craft," said avoice. We looked up--a large ship was passing us. "Don't fear--we'llpick you up," said the former speaker. I heard the cry of "helm'salee!" The yards swung round, and the ship was rounded too. By thattime she seemed to have got a long way from us. Presently, however, wesaw a boat dashing among the seas towards us. I thought that her bowwould have come right down on our raft, but just then I felt a strongarm grasp me by the shoulder, and haul me in, while Peter was treated inthe same way, and we were quickly alongside the ship. We were lifted onboard. She appeared full of people, who looked very kindly at us. Atfirst I could not speak a word; I did not know why. I thought that Iwas going to say something, but no sound was produced. The people whostood round remarked that I was a foreigner, and two or three peoplecame up and addressed me in strange languages, but of course I was notmore likely to answer them than I was my own countrymen. At last Iheard Peter Pongo, who had been much concerned at my silence, say, "Himofficer--speakie by and by." This remark seemed to satisfy thosepresent, and in about an hour I was able to sit up and explain what hadhappened. I found that we had been rescued by an emigrant ship boundfor the Cape of Good Hope. I was in hope that she might be able to landus at Sierra Leone, but I found that she could not possibly go out ofher course; indeed, that we were much to the southward of that place,and that on to the Cape we also must go. In a very few minutes Ibecame, I must own, reconciled to the necessity. When the cabinpassengers found that I was a midshipman they rigged me out in verycomfortable clothes, and clubbing together presented me with a sum ofmoney, as they said, to enable me to live comfortably, till I could findmy way back to my ship. When, also, they heard how gallantly PeterPongo had rescued me, they gave him a handsome present. He couldscarcely comprehend his good fortune, and as he looked at the money heevidently thought himself the owner of boundless wealth. I had the bestof everything at the chief cabin table, and could not help thinking howpleasant it would be to live the life of a passenger on board anemigrant ship all the year round. I was therefore very much surprisedto hear some of them grumbling from morning to night, complaining ofhaving nothing to do, and wishing that the voyage was over. If they hadlived in a midshipman's berth for a few months, I rather suspect thatthey would have thought themselves well off. I need not describe ourpassage to the Cape; it was a very pleasant one. I was very happyduring the short time I remained at that curious old Dutch place, CapeTown. I saw the table-mountain and the tablecloth on the top of it, andthen a sloop of war called there, and the commodore, who was there,ordered me and Peter Pongo a passage back to Sierra Leone. I was neveridle, for I found ample employment in teaching Peter to read, andwonderful was the progress he made. He was a great favourite on boardthe corvette on account of his intelligence and amiable manners, and thegallant way in which he had preserved my life. On entering the harbourof Sierra Leone, there, to my great satisfaction, lay our schooner, withthe pennant flying at her masthead, and the British ensign at her peak.I got a boat from the corvette, and at once pulled on board. I couldsee at a glance that the schooner had been turned into a man-of-war.She had been bought, as I afterwards found, into the service. I was inplain clothes, and Peter Pongo who accompanied me, was very nicelydressed, and no one would have recognised him as the little slave boy hehad before appeared. Dickey Snookes looked over the side. I sprang upthe side. "What do you want?" he asked. "To see that very importantpersonage, Mr Algernon Godolphin Stafford, commonly known as DickeySnookes," I answered, taking his hand. He started, and looked at mevery hard, really gasping for breath, so astonished was he. "What! isit you yourself, Rushforth, my dear fellow?" he exclaimed. "I am indeedglad. We thought you were lost; gobbled up by a shark, or sunk to thebottom of the sea. Here, Sommers--here's Rushforth come to life again,and the black boy too." Sommers, who was below, came on deck, andreceived me most cordially. Mr Talbot, who had command of theschooner, now called the Liberia, was on shore. She was to sail, Ifound, the very next day for Rio Janeiro, to act as a tender to ourship. I consulted with Sommers what would be most to the advantage ofPeter Pongo to do. He strongly advised his going to the college atSierra Leone, where he would receive a very good education, and heundertook to arrange the matter. I had still the greater part of themoney given me by the passengers of the emigrant ship, which I had keptfor the purpose of devoting it to Peter's use. This, with what he hadof his own, would enable him to make a fair start in life. Peterhimself, though very sorry to leave me, was much pleased with theproposal. That very afternoon he and I accompanied Sommers on shore,when the whole matter was arranged in a very satisfactory way with someof the gentlemen connected with the college, who undertook to invest thesum I have mentioned for Peter's benefit. Peter burst into tears as Iwished him good-bye, and I felt a very curious sensation about thethroat. The next day we sailed for Rio.