"Him called Chando," answered Tom. "Him know dat name when you call him."

"And your wife--what is her name?" asked Ned. "Him--Masika," said Tom after a few moments' thought--it was so long since he had uttered his wife's name. "O Ma.s.sa Ned, you bring dem back, and G.o.d bless you."

"Chando--Masika," repeated Ned. "But I am afraid that there is very little chance of my finding your family, Tom, though I should be truly thankful to meet with them; I don't know even to what part of the coast of Africa I am going. It is a large country, and though I may see thousands of the inhabitants, those you care for may not be among them."

"Ma.s.sa Ned, if G.o.d wish to bring dem to you, He can find de way," said the black, in a tone of simple faith. "I no say He will do it, but He can do it, dat I know."

Ned did not forget this conversation with poor Tom, not that he entertained the slightest hope that he should fall in with his wife or son; indeed, should he do so, how should he possibly know them? He determined, however, to ask all the Africans he might meet with where they came from, and should it appear that they were natives of the part of the country Tom had described to him, to make more minute inquiries.

He knew as well as Tom that G.o.d can bring about whatever He thinks fit; but he was too well instructed not to know that our Heavenly Father does not always act as men wish or think best--for that He sees what man in his blindness does not. No one, except Mary, perhaps, missed Ned more than did Tom Baraka. Poor Mary! it was her first great trial in life.

She found more difficulty than she had ever done before in learning her lessons, and she about her daily avocations with a far less elastic step than was her wont. She was too young, however, to remain long sorrowful, and was as pleased as ever to accompany Aunt Sally on her rounds among her poor neighbours.

The travellers reached Portsmouth, and repaired to the "Blue Posts," the inn at which Mr Pack had been accustomed to put up in his younger days.

Next morning he took the two boys on board the "Ione," which lay alongside the hulk off the dockyard. Lieutenant Hanson, who had already joined, received them in a kind manner, which made Charley whisper to Ned that they were all right, as it was clear that their first lieutenant was not one of those stiff chaps who look as if they had swallowed pokers, and he hoped that their commander was of the same character.

Two days pa.s.sed rapidly away in visiting the numerous objects of interest to be seen at Portsmouth. Ned's kit was ready, and his uncle finally took him on board the "Ione," which had cast off from the hulk, and was getting ready to go out to Spithead. Ned was introduced to the commander, who shook his uncle and him by the hand in a friendly way.

"I hope that the ship will be a happy one," said Captain Curtis. "It will depend much on his messmates and him whether it is so, and they'll find me ready to serve them if they act as I trust may."

The next day the "Ione" went out to Spithead, the one-legged lieutenant, by the commander's invitation, being on board. With a beaming eye he watched Ned, who performed various duties in a way which showed that he knew well what he was about.

"He'll do, he'll do," he said to himself more than once. "Meadows, too, seems an active young fellow. Nothing could have turned out better."

At length the moment for parting came. Ned accompanied his uncle down the side, and again and again the kind old lieutenant wrung his hand before he stepped into the wherry which was to carry him to sh.o.r.e. Ned stood watching the boat, thinking of his uncle and his home, until he was recalled to himself by the boatswain's whistle summoning the crew to weigh anchor and make sail. With a fair breeze and all canvas spread, the "Ione" stood out through the Needle Pa.s.sage on her course down channel. As she came off that part of the coast where his boyhood had been spent, he turned a wistful gaze in that direction, knowing that although the lieutenant was not at home, his telescope would be pointed seaward, and that even then Mary might be looking at the graceful ship which floated like a swan over the calm water. The Lizard was the last point of land seen, and the "Ione" stood out into the broad Atlantic.

"Well, Ned, we are at sea at last, you really have shown yourself more of a man than I expected," said Charley Meadows.

"What should have made you fancy I should have been otherwise?" asked Ned.

"Why, you've been brought up so much at home that I was afraid you'd prove rather too soft for the life you'll have to lead on board.

However, I have no fear about that, whatever others may think. Some of the fellows may try to bully you because you are the youngest on board, but keep your temper, and do not let them see that you know what they are about; I'll back you up, and they'll soon cease annoying you."

Ned followed his friend's advice, and managed without quarrelling or fighting to obtain the respect of even the least well-disposed of his messmates.

Charley was at first inclined to exhibit a somewhat patronising manner towards Ned, who, however, wisely did not show that he perceived this, nor did he in the slightest degree resent it. He from the first had endeavoured to gain all the nautical knowledge he possibly could, and was never ashamed of asking for information from those able to afford it.

"That's the way to become a seaman," observed Mr Dawes the boatswain, to whom he frequently went when he wanted any matter explained. "Come to me as often as you like, and I shall be glad to tell you what I know; and I ought to know a thing or two, as I've been at sea, man and boy, pretty near five-and-twenty years, though I've not got much book-learning."

Ned thanked him, promising to take advantage of his offer, and, as was natural, became a great favourite with the boatswain. Ned was well up in many of the details of seamanship, and having been accustomed to boats all his life, was as well able to manage one as anybody on board.

He quickly learned to go aloft, and to lay out on the yards to reef or loose the sails, while he was as active and fearless as many a far older seaman. His knowledge of navigation too was considerable, his uncle having taken great pains to instruct him, he, on his part, being always anxious to learn. Charley, therefore, in a short time, finding that Ned was not only his equal in most respects, but his superior in several, dropped his patronising manner, and they became faster friends than ever.

The first lieutenant, Mr Hanson, did not fail to remark Ned's progress, and calling him up, expressed his approval. "Go on as you have begun, Garth, and you will become a good officer. The commander has his eye on you, and will always, you may depend upon it, prove your friend."

Although with most of his messmates Ned got on very well, two or three, it was very evident, disliked him on account of his zeal and good conduct, which reflected, they might have considered, on their behaviour.

The senior mate in the berth, "Old Rhymer" as he was called, who was soured by disappointment at not obtaining his commission, as he thought he ought to have done long ago, took every opportunity of finding fault with him, and was continually sneering at what he said when at the mess table. If he attempted to reply, O'Connor, the eldest of the midshipmen, was sure to come down on him and join Rhymer.

"You'll be after getting a cobbing, Master Garth, if you don't keep your tongue quiet in presence of your elders," exclaimed the latter.

"I have said nothing to offend any one," said Ned.

"We are the judges of that," replied O'Connor, beginning to knot his handkerchief in an ominous fashion. "You and Meadows are becoming too conceited by half, because the first lieutenant and the commander have taken it into their heads that you are something above the common."

"I have no reason to suppose that from anything they have said to me,"

answered Ned. "The first lieutenant merely advised me to go on doing my duty, and that is what I intend to do; I don't see how that should offend you."

"We are the best judges of what is offensive and what is not, Master Jackanapes," exclaimed Rhymer, "so take that for daring to reply," and he threw a biscuit across the berth, which would have hit Ned on the eye had he not ducked in time to avoid it.

"Thank you for your good intentions, Rhymer," said Ned, picking up the biscuit and continuing to eat the duff on which he was engaged.

O'Connor meantime went on knotting his handkerchief, and only waiting for a word from Rhymer to commence operations on Ned's back. Ned took no notice, but as soon as he had finished dinner he sprang up and made for the door of the berth.

"Stop that youngster!" exclaimed Rhymer; "he is not to set our authority at defiance. Come back I say, Garth."

No one, however, laid a hand on Ned, who, making his way round on the locker behind his companions' backs, gained the door. O'Connor, eager to obey the old mate's commands, made a spring over the table, and in so doing caught the table-cloth with his foot, and toppling over on his face, brought it after him with the plates and other articles to the deck outside the berth, where he lay struggling, amid shouts of laughter from his messmates.

Ned reached the upper deck before O'Connor had regained his legs. The latter was not inclined to follow him, though he vowed he would be revenged on the first opportunity. Ned was soon joined by Charley Meadows.

"You have made enemies of those two fellows, and they'll pay you off some day," observed Charley.

"I am sorry for that, though I do not fear their enmity, and I will try and make friends with them as soon as possible," answered Ned. He watched for an opportunity, and was careful not to say anything in the berth likely to offend his elders. Notwithstanding, they continued to treat him much in the same way, though O'Connor forbore the use of the cob, as he had promised, finding that public opinion was decidedly against him.

Week after week went by, the "Ione" steadily continuing her course to the southward. A heavy gale came on, which, though it lasted but a few days, served to show that Ned was not only a fair-weather sailor, but could do his duty in foul weather as well as in fine. Then there were calms and light winds.

The line was pa.s.sed. Much to O'Connor's disappointment, the commander would not allow the usual customs, having given notice that he should not receive "Daddy Neptune" and his Tritons on board.

The ship put into Rio, in South America, which, though apparently out of her course, was not really so. Having remained a few days in that magnificent harbour, and obtained a supply of fresh provisions and water, she again sailed, and soon fell in with the south-easterly trade wind, which carried her rapidly without a tack across the Atlantic.

Table Bay was soon reached, and the officers were antic.i.p.ating a run on sh.o.r.e, when the commander received orders to sail immediately for the east coast, to a.s.sist in putting a stop to the trade in slaves, said to be carried on along it for the supply of the Persian and Arabian markets. Many of the mess grumbled at being sent off so soon again to sea, and declared that they would have remained on sh.o.r.e had they known they were to be engaged in such abominable work.

"I have heard all about it," exclaimed Rhymer. "We shall never have a moment's quiet, but be chasing those Arab dhows night and day, and if we capture any, have to crowd up our decks with hundreds of dirty blackamoors, whom we shall be obliged to nurse and feed until we can set them on sh.o.r.e, with the chances of fever or small-pox and all sorts of complaints breaking out among them."

Very different were Ned's feelings when he heard the news; it was the very station to which he had hoped the ship might be sent. His knowledge of the good qualities possessed by Tom Baraka made him sure that the blacks were not the despicable race some of his messmates were disposed to consider them. They, at all events, had immortal souls, and might with the same advantages become as civilised and as good a Christian as Tom was. There was a possibility, though a very remote one, that he might fall in with Tom's wife and child, and he pictured to himself the satisfaction of being able to restore them to liberty. He did not, however, express his feelings, except to Charley, as he considered, justly, that it would be like throwing pearls before swine to say anything of the sort to Rhymer or O'Connor, who would only have laughed at him.

The "Ione" had a quick pa.s.sage round the south coast of Africa, and she now entered the Mozambique Channel. The chart showed that she had reached the twentieth degree of south lat.i.tude, and about the forty-first of east longitude. Away to the west, though far out of sight, were the mouths of the Zambesi river, whose waters have been explored from their source to the ocean by the energetic Livingstone, while to the right was the magnificent island of Madagascar, many of whose long benighted people have since accepted the Gospel. The ship glided on over the smooth sea, her sails spread to a gentle southerly breeze. The heat was great; it had been rapidly increasing. As the hot sun shone down from a cloudless sky on the deck, the pitch bubbled up as if a fire were beneath it, and O'Connor declared that he could cook a beef steak, if he had one, on the capstan head.

"Hot, do you call it?" observed Rhymer, who had before been in those seas. "Wait until we get under the line; we may roast an ox there by tricing it up to the fore-yard, and even then should have to lower it into the sea every now and then to prevent it being done too quickly."

Every shady spot was eagerly sought for by officers and crew, though, as the air was pure, no one really suffered by the heat. Other smaller islands were pa.s.sed, though not seen--among them Johanna and Comoro, inhabited by dark-skinned races. At last the island of Zanzibar, close in with the African coast, was sighted, and as the breeze blew off its undulating plains, Ned and Charley agreed that they could inhale the perfume of its spice groves and its many fragrant flowers. As the ship drew nearer the land, on the lower ground could be distinguished large plantations of sugar-cane, with forests of cocoa-nut trees, just beyond the line of shining sands separating them from the blue water, while here and there rose low rocky cliffs of varied tints of red and brown.

On the uplands were seen rows of clove-trees ranged in exact order between the plantations, groups of palm or dark-leaved mangoes, with ma.s.ses of wild jungle, where nature was still allowed to have its own way. Further on white flat-roofed buildings with numerous windows appeared in sight; then the harbour opened up, in which floated a crowd of vessels of all nations, some with red banners floating from their mast-heads, forming the sultan's navy, others English ships of war, merchantmen, countless dhows with high sterns and strange rigs; then more houses and terraces with arches and colonnades came into view, with several consular flags flying above them.

"That's Zanzibar, the capital of the sultan of that ilk. A very beautiful place you may think it," said Rhymer; "but wait until we get on sh.o.r.e, and then give me your opinion."

"Shorten sail and bring ship to an anchor!" shouted the first lieutenant.

The boatswain's whistle sounded, the hands flew aloft, the canvas was furled, and in a few minutes the "Ione" was brought up at no great distance from the town. The commander shortly afterwards went on sh.o.r.e, and several members of the midshipmen's berth obtained leave to follow him under charge of Rhymer.

"Remember, young gentlemen, keep together, and do nothing to offend the natives," said Mr Hanson as they were about to shove off. "They are not like the inhabitants of European places, and are quick to resent what they may consider an insult. You cannot be too careful in your conduct towards them."

Attractive as the place appeared from the sea, the party had not gone far when they were inclined to pa.s.s a very different opinion on it. The houses looked dilapidated, the inhabitants, black and brown, squalid and dirty, though a few Arabs in picturesque costumes, armed to the teeth, were encountered strolling about with a swaggering air, while odours abominable in the extreme rose from all directions. The party made their way through the crooked, narrow lanes, with plastered houses on each side, in the lower floors of which were Banyans, wearing red turbans, seated in front of their goods, consisting either of coloured cottons or calicoes, or heaps of ivory tusks, or of piles of loose cotton, crockery, or cheap Birmingham ware. Further on they came to rows of miserable huts, the doors occupied by woolly-headed blacks, who, in spite of the filth and offensive smells arising from heaps of refuse, seemed as merry as crickets, laughing, chattering, and bargaining in loud tones.