Then all the events of his young days rose up before his mind--his governess and Towsie Jock; he laughed, melancholy though he was, when he thought of that night in the tree--his garden, his summer-house, and pets, and his dear friend Andrew.

He touched a gong and Doomah appeared.

"Are you sleepy?"

"No, sir, I not sleepy."

"Then come and tell me a story--the story of your life."

"Ah! dat is not mooch, sir. Plenty time I be in action. I have many wounds from Arab guns."

"Because you're a spy, you know."

"A spy, sir! Not I, sir. No, I am interpreter; I fight in de interests of de Breetish Queen of England."

"Well, well, have it so."

"Pah! I no care dat mooch for de Arabs. Pah! When dey catch me den dey kill me. What matter? Some day all die. I am happy, I have one, two, tree wife, and dey all love Doomah, ebery one mooch more dan de oder. And when I go home I shall marry Number 4. Ha! ha!"

Doomah kept talking to Harry till all his melancholy had almost if not quite gone.

It was now about four bells in the middle watch, and Harry was thinking of sleep, when the curtain was drawn aside and Nicholls the bo's'n entered. He was Harry's lieutenant.

"Sorry to say, sir, the ship is leaking like a sieve, sir."

"That is bad news, Nicholls," said Harry, starting up.

"It be, sir; but what makes matters worse is that I believe she is scuttled."

"But there were no signs of leakage before we parted with the _Bunting_."

"No, indeed, sir, these rascally slaver Arabs know what they are about.

The scuttling was filled up with paper, sure to come out after she had a few hours of way on her."

"This is serious indeed. Think you--can we keep her afloat till we reach Zanzibar?"

"If we could pump, yes."

"Well, rig the pump."

"_It is gone, sir. Doubtless_ thrown overboard."

"That is indeed serious, Mr Nicholls."

By daybreak the breeze had freshened considerably, but veered a bit, and was now dead ahead. The water had gained so much that the slaves had all to be taken on deck. Bailing was kept up, but seemed to do comparatively little good.

Harry walked up and down the deck for some time in deep thought. At last he called Mr Nicholls.

"Put her about," he said, "she'll make less water, then we will try to run for Magadoxa. We know the Pa.r.s.ee merchant there. And the Somalis are civil."

"As civil," said Nicholls, "as Somalis can be, when you are not standing under the lee of British bayonets. Trust a Somali and make friends with a fiend."

The dhow went round with terrible flapping of her enormous sails, and much creaking of blocks, her great wings almost dragging the vessel on her beam ends.

But she went fast enough now. Dhows do fly before the wind, and, water-logged though this vessel was, her speed was marvellous.

She was far out at sea, however, and soon had to be hauled closer to the wind in order to gain the sh.o.r.e.

By midday they were about fifteen miles south of Brava, but the wind was falling, and the dhow now fast filling. They staggered past the ancient little town, but all hopes of reaching Magadoxa soon fled, and it became evident to every one that they must soon beach her or sink.

The coast here is most dangerous, owing to the number of sunken rocks, and to the long stretches of shallow water--water on which the breakers sometimes run mountains high, as the saying is, but where between the waves the bottom was everywhere close to the surface. Only the native surf-boats could get over shoals like these.

Looking for a place on a lee-sh.o.r.e on which to beach a vessel is sad work, and trying to the nerves; you may pa.s.s a fairly good spot, thinking to come to a better; you may go farther and fare worse.

Harry's, however, was a decided character, and when he came, some ten miles to the north of Brava, to a spot where the breakers did not seem to run extremely high--

"Here it must be, Nicholls. Stand by to lower both our boats."

"Starboard, as hard as she'll go."

Up went the tiller, round came her head, and a minute afterwards she struck with such fearful violence on a coral rock, that her masts, none of the strongest, went thundering over the side.

"We must try to save the slaves first, Nicholls."

"That will we, sir. Never a white man should cease to work until these poor abject creatures are safely on sh.o.r.e."

"Bravo! Nicholls. Well spoken, my brave man! I will not forget you when opportunity offers."

Harry cast his eyes sh.o.r.ewards, the breakers were thundering on the beach, but no one was visible except a solitary armed Arab.

"Lower away the boats. Gently."

The dhow was already b.u.mping fearfully on the reef and rapidly going to pieces.

To stand on deck without clinging to bulwarks or rigging was impossible.

The condition of the slaves was now pitiable in the extreme. They were huddled together, buried together, one might say, in one long cl.u.s.ter, dying, smothering each other, and drowning in the lee scuppers, for the sea was breaking clean over the wrecked and dismasted dhow.

Our fellows--bold blue-jackets--took them one by one as they came; they had almost to lift them down into the boats, so utterly prostrated with fear were they.

At last a boat got clear away.

Hardly had they left the dhow's side, when high over the moaning and cries of the poor negroes, high over the sound of roaring tumbling waves and broken hissing water, arose a shout of triumph, and looking in the direction from which it proceeded, Harry could see the previously all but deserted beach swarming with armed and naked Indians.

The boat rode in on the top of a breaker, and was speedily seized and hauled up high and dry. The men were roped and thrown on their backs, and the slaves placed in a corner among rocks and guarded by spear-armed Somalis.

Then surf-boats were launched, and speedily got alongside the dhow.

Thinking nothing about his own safety, Harry was nevertheless glad to see that the slaves were being taken off, and saved from a watery grave, whatever their ultimate fate might be.