I Told My Men To Be Ready To Jump Out The Moment
That We Should Touch The Sand, And To Secure The Canoe By Hauling The
Head Up The Beach.
All were ready, and we rushed through the surf, the
native boatmen paddling like steam engines.
"Here comes a wave; look
out!" and just as we almost touched the beach, a heavy breaker broke
over the black women who were sitting in the stern, and swamped the
boat. My men jumped into the water like ducks, and the next moment we
were all rolled in confusion on the sandy shore. The men stuck well to
the boat, and hauled her firmly on the sand, while my wife crawled out
of her primitive cabin like a caddis worm from its nest, half drowned,
and jumped upon the shore. "El hamd el Illah!" (thank God!) we all
exclaimed; "now for a pull - all together!" and having so far secured
the boat that she could not be washed away, I ordered the men to
discharge the cargo, and then to pull her out of the lake. Everything
was destroyed except the gunpowder; that was all in canisters. But where
was the other canoe? I made up my mind that it must be lost, for
although much longer than our boat, it was lower in the water. After
some time and much anxiety, we perceived it running for the shore about
half a mile in our rear; it was in the midst of the breakers, and
several times I lost sight of it; but the old tree behaved well, and
brought the crew safe to the shore.
Fortunately there was a village not far from the spot where we landed,
and we took possession of a hut, lighted a good fire, and wrapped
ourselves in Scotch plaids and blankets wrung out, while our clothes
were being dried, as there was not a dry rag in our possession.
We could procure nothing to eat, except a few dried fish that, not
having been salted, were rather high flavoured. Our fowls, and also two
pet quails, were drowned in the boat during the storm; however, the
drowned fowls were made into a stew, and with a blazing fire, and clean
straw to sleep upon, the night's rest was perhaps as perfect as in the
luxury of home.
On the following morning we were detained by bad weather, as a heavy sea
was still running, and we were determined not to risk our canoes in
another gale. It was a beautiful neighbourhood, enlivened by a
magnificent waterfall that fell about a thousand feet from the
mountains, as the Kaiigiri river emptied itself into the lake in a
splendid volume of water. This river rises in the great marsh that we
had crossed on our way from M'rooli to Vacovia. In this neighbourhood we
gathered some mushrooms - the true Agaricus campestras of Europe -
which were a great luxury.
In the afternoon the sea subsided, and we again started.
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