Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, No. 423: Volume 17, New Series, February 7, 1852Various
History
Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, No. 423: Volume 17, New Series, February 7, 1852
Various
Periodicals
But we did not always escape in this manner. Not to speak of minor
mischances, on one occasion we stuck hard and fast for twenty-four
hours, in spite of every attempt to extricate ourselves. Here was a
predicament for the captain! He had received instructions to make the
greatest speed on his trip; his passengers were all burning with
impatience lest they should be too late to acquire glory and
prize-money--the prize-money at all events; the military stores on
board were urgently required at Mooltan; and, worse than all, the lady
began to pout! This was the climax of his misfortune; and the skipper,
growing desperate, swore a mighty oath that if the obstinate little
craft would not swim through the water, she should walk over the land,
and we should see who would get tired of it first. Accordingly, an
anchor was carried forward to a spot some forty yards off, where the
water was deeper; the greater part of the passengers were made to jump
overboard, without even going through the formality of walking the
plank; while the remainder manned the capstan-bars. The chain-cable
tightened, the capstan creaked, and the paddles dashed round; but we
did not stir an inch till the natives, who had been so unceremoniously
turned overboard, began to apply the pressure from without, when,
amidst shouts and yells, and curses in a dozen different languages, we
slid along the surface of the bank until we reached a deeper channel.
The outside passengers then scrambled on board, and again we darted
on; while the captain took snuff with the triumphant air of a man who
was not to be trifled with, and informed the lady confidentially that
she (the steam-boat) was not a bad little craft after all, but it did
not do to let her have her own way altogether.
Let it now suffice to say, that the amphibious steam-boat carried us
to Sukkur in rather less than three weeks--our voyage in some respects
resembling the midnight journey of the demon horseman--
'Tramp, tramp across the land we ride;
Splash, splash across the sea!'
Glad we were when a bend of the river shewed us the island and
picturesque fort of Bukkur, apparently blocking up all further
progress; the left bank being studded with the white bungalows of
Sukkur, half-hidden in clumps of date-trees; while the right was
clothed to the water's edge with the bright green foliage of the
gardens of Roree.
HELPS'S ESSAYS.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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