Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.Anonymous
History
Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.
Anonymous
Mutiny; Pirates; Seafaring life; Shipwrecks
he thought to be the object: one believed he saw the long teeth of the
king of the forest; another was convinced his mouth was already open
to devour us: several, armed with muskets, aimed at the animal, and
advancing a few steps, discovered the pretended lion to be nothing
more than a shrub fluctuating in the breeze. However, the howlings of
ferocious beasts had so frightened us, being yet heard at intervals
that we again sought the sea-shore, on purpose to continue our route
towards the south.
Some of our companions were desirous of making observations in the
interior, and they did not go in vain. They instantly returned, and
told us they had seen two Arab tents upon a slight rising ground. We
instantly directed our steps thither. We had to pass great downs of
sand very slippery, and arrived in a large plain streaked here and
there with verdure; but the turf was so hard and piercing, we could
scarcely walk over it without wounding our feet. Our presence in these
frightful solitudes put to flight three or four Moorish shepherds, who
herded a small flock of sheep and goats in an oasis. At last we
arrived at the tents after which we were searching, and found in them
three Mooresses and two little children, who did not seem in the least
frightened by our visit. A negro servant, belonging to an officer of
marine, interpreted between us; and the good women, who, when they had
heard of our misfortunes, offered us millet and water for payment. We
bought a little of that grain at the rate of thirty pence a handful;
the water was got for three francs a glass; it was very good, and none
grudged the money it cost. As a glass of water, with a handful of
millet, was but a poor dinner for famished people, my father bought
two kids, which they would not give him under twenty piastres. We
immediately killed them, and our Mooresses boiled them in a large
kettle. While our repast was preparing, my father, who could not
afford the whole of the expense, got others to contribute to it, but
an old officer of marine, who was to have been captain of the port of
Senegal, was the only person who refused, notwithstanding he had about
him nearly three thousand francs which he boasted of in the end.
Several soldiers and sailors had seen him count it in round pieces of
gold, on coming ashore on the Desert, and reproached him for his
sordid avarice; but he seemed insensible to their reproaches, nor eat
the less of his portion of the kid with his companions in misfortune.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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