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
We found a Moor in the camp who had previously known my father at
Senegal, and who spoke a little French. As soon as he recognised him,
he cried, 'Tiens toi Picard! ni a pas conneitre moi Amet?' Hark ye,
Picard, know you not Amet? We were all struck with astonishment at
these French words coming from the mouth of a Moor. My father
recollected having employed long ago a young goldsmith at Senegal, and
discovering the Moor Amet to be the same person, shook him by the
hand. After that good fellow had been made acquainted with our
shipwreck, and to what extremities our unfortunate family had been
reduced, he could not refrain from tears; and this perhaps was the
first time a Mussulman had ever wept over the misfortunes of a
Christian. Amet was not satisfied with deploring our hard fate; he was
desirous of proving that he was generous and humane, and instantly
distributed among us a large quantity of milk and water free of any
charge. He also raised for our family a large tent of the skins of
camels, cattle and sheep, because his religion would not allow him to
lodge with Christians under the same roof. The place appeared very
dark, and the obscurity made us uneasy. Amet and our conductors
lighted a large fire to quiet us; and at last, bidding us good night,
and retiring to his tent, said, 'Sleep in peace; the God of the
Christians is also the God of the Mussulman.'
We had resolved to quit this truly hospitable place early in the
morning; but during the night, some people who had probably too much
money, imagined the Moors had taken us to their camp to plunder us.
They communicated their fears to others, and pretending that the
Moors, who walked up and down among their flocks, and cried from time
to time to keep away the ferocious beasts, had already given the
signal for pursuing and murdering us. Instantly a general panic seized
all our people, and they wished to set off forthwith. My father,
although he well knew the perfidy of the inhabitants of the Desert,
endeavored to assure them we had nothing to fear, because the Arabs
were too frightened for the people of Senegal, who would not fail to
avenge us if we were insulted; but nothing could quiet their
apprehensions, and we had to take the route during the middle of the
night. The Moors being soon acquainted with our fears, made us all
kinds of protestations; and seeing we persisted in quitting the camp,
offered us asses to carry us as far as the Senegal. These beasts of
burden were hired at the rate of 12 francs a day, for each head, and
we took our departure under the guidance of those Moors who had before
conducted us to the camp. Amet's wife being unwell, he could not
accompany us, but recommended us strongly to our guides. My father was
able to hire only two asses for the whole of our family; and as it was
numerous, my sister Caroline, my cousin, and myself, were obliged to
crawl along, whilst my unfortunate father followed in the suite of the
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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