IN CROSSING THE BAR AT SENEGAL THE BOAT IS UPSET BY A TORNADO--WE ESCAPE
BEING DEVOURED BY SHARKS ONLY TO BE CAPTURED BY THE NATIVES--ARE TAKEN
INTO THE INTERIOR OF THE COUNTRY, AND BROUGHT BEFORE THE NEGRO KING,
FROM WHOSE WRATH WE ARE SAVED BY THE INTERCESSION OF HIS FEMALE
ATTENDANTS.
A day or two after we had arrived, the master of another vessel that was
at anchor near to us came on board and borrowed our long-boat and some
hands that he might go in it to Senegal. The captain, who was an old
friend of the party who made the request, agreed to lend it to him, and
as accidents are very frequent with boats crossing the bar, on account
of the heavy breakers, the best swimmers were selected for the purpose,
and the charge of the boat was given to me. We set off, five men rowing
and I at the helm. When we approached the bar, a tornado, which had
been for some time threatening, came upon us. The impetuosity of these
blasts is to be matched in no part of the world, and as it came at once
in its full force, we endeavoured, by putting the boat before it, to
escape its fury. This compelled us to run to the southward along the
coast. We managed to keep the boat up for a long while, and hoped to
have weathered it, when, being on the bar, and in broken water, a large
wave curled over us, filled the boat, and it went down in an instant.
Our only chance now was to reach the shore by swimming, but it was at a
distance, with broken water the whole way; and our great terror was from
the sharks, which abound on the coast and are extremely ravenous--nor
were we without reason for our alarm. Scarcely had the boat gone down,
and we were all stretching out for the shore, when one of our men
shrieked, having been seized by the sharks, and instantly torn to
pieces. His blood stained the water all around, and this attracting all
the sharks proved the means of our escape. Never shall I forget the
horrible sensation which I felt as I struggled through the broken water,
expecting every minute a limb to be taken off by one of those voracious
animals. If one foot touched the other, my heart sunk, thinking it was
the nose of a shark, and that its bite would immediately follow.
Agonised with these terrors, we struggled on--now a large wave curling
over us and burying us under water, or now forced by the waves towards
the beach, rolling us over and over. So battered were we by the surf,
that we dived under the waves to escape the blows which we received, and
then rose and struck out again. At last, worn out with exertion, we
gained the shore, but our toil was not over.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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