Hair-Breadth Escapes: The Adventures of Three Boys in South Africa — John Shaqi
Hair-Breadth Escapes: The Adventures of Three Boys in South AfricaAdams, H. C. (Henry Cadwallader)
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Hair-Breadth Escapes: The Adventures of Three Boys in South Africa
Adams, H. C. (Henry Cadwallader)
Adventure stories; Boys -- Juvenile fiction; Hunting -- Juvenile fiction; South Africa -- Juvenile fiction
"It isn't any of the crew," said Frank. "It's old Lion. I can see his
head above water. He has broken his fastenings and followed us. Haul
him aboard, Nick."
The dog was soon got in, and Lavie and Warley, seizing the oars, rowed
away from the ship. An attempt was made to lower a boat, and one or two
shots were fired. But the crew were in no condition for work of any
kind, and in a few minutes the _Hooghly_ was lost sight of in the
darkness. Lavie and Wilmore, who understood the management of a boat,
hoisted the sail and took the rudder.
Meanwhile, Warley and Gilbert were endeavouring to restore the old
quartermaster from his swoon. They threw water in his face, and poured
some brandy from a flask down his throat, but for a long time without
any result. At last the boat was in proper trim, and Mr Lavie set at
liberty to attend to his patient. Alarmed at the low state of the
pulse, and the failure of the efforts to restore consciousness, he
lighted his lantern, and then discovered that the bottom of the boat was
deluged with blood. The bandages had been loosened in the struggle to
get on board, and the wound had broken out afresh. The surgeon saw that
there was now little hope of saving the old man's life. He succeeded,
however, in stanching the flow of blood, and again bound up the wound,
directing that Jennings should be laid in as comfortable a position as
possible on a heap of jackets in the bow.
This had not been long effected, when morning appeared. Those who have
witnessed daybreak in the tropics, will be aware how strange and
brilliant a contrast it presents to that of northern climates. The day
does not slowly gather in the East, changing by imperceptible degrees
from the depth of gloom to the fulness of light, but springs as it were
with a single effort into brilliant splendour--an image of the great
Creator's power when He created the earth and skies--not toiling through
long ages of successive processes and formations, as some would have us
believe, but starting at one bound from shapeless chaos into life and
harmony.
The doctor cast an anxious look at the horizon, and was relieved to find
that the _Hooghly_ was nowhere visible. "Well out of that," he
muttered. "If we could only bring poor Jennings round, I shouldn't so
much regret what has happened. But I am afraid that can't be." He
again felt the old man's pulse, and found that he was now conscious
again, though very feeble.
"Is that Mr Lavie?" he said, opening his eyes. "I'm glad to see you've
come off safe, sir. I hope the young gentlemen are safe too."
"All three of them, Jennings, thank you," was the answer; "not one of
them has so much as a scratch on him."
"That's hearty, sir. I am afraid poor Joe--it's all over with him,
isn't it?"
"I am afraid so, Tom. But he didn't suffer. The ball struck him right
on the temple, and he was gone in a moment."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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