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The Expedition of Captain Flick: A Story of Adventure

Chapter IX. Lethe

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Chapter IX. Lethe.

“And those who rashly ventured on that isle,
Did breathe such perfumes, strange and magical,
As thieved their memories from them; and enthralled
Themselves in such wise, that they straight forgot
Home, friends, and kin, all the familiar past.”

All that week the scarlet ship lay in the harbour, silent and menacing; for her black crew, save for their singing, made no noise, and, passing most of their time under the awning, rarely showed themselves or looked in our direction. She might have been a ship of the dead for all the stir there was aboard; and this absence of life inspired Aunt Chrissy with distrust and dislike.

“I don't like their silence,” said she, alluding to the negroes. “Depend upon it, Denis, they are plotting against us.”

“Plotting against us?” I echoed in surprise. “For what reason? We have nothing they can possibly desire, save Dosk; and I don't suppose they'll board our ship to take him prisoner.”

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“Oh, I don't know,” replied Mrs. Barber ambiguously; “but I distrust their looks, and I have a presentiment that they will yet bring us trouble.”

“Nonsense! I had a presentiment, also, and it came to naught.”

“Well, you mark my words, Denis. This wretched cruise will not end well. If Thomas would only take my advice, he would leave those negroes alone, and return to England before it is too late.”

After the failure of my own premonition, I could afford to laugh at Aunt Chrissy and her warnings; but in the end her feminine instinct was more than justified, and often in days to come did I wish we had taken her advice. But her warnings, like those of Cassandra, were not believed, and we continued to watch that silent ship, and attempted to make friends with her crew. This last proved impossible of achievement, for though Flick once or twice addressed them, when we were on shore, they gave no sign in return, save to scowl at his knowledge of their tongue, and move swiftly away at our approach. They were as misanthropical as they were ugly.

Dosk was a fair specimen of the race, but many of his countrymen were even more ill-favoured than he. A more repulsive set of dwarfs—for all were under five feet, and some barely three—I never beheld. page 103 Frizzled mops of hair increased the size of their already large heads, and the peculiarly vivid red of their thick lips looked most forbidding against their coal-black skins. Yet their grotesque faces inspired pity rather than mirth, for each countenance was stamped with an expression of profound melancholy. The generally accepted idea of the merry negro character was contradicted in this instance; for these odd creatures were savage, silent, sombre; they neither laughed nor chatted amongst themselves, but moved in a stealthy fashion, with bent heads, like hounds nosing a trail. An air of deadly menace pervaded scarlet ship and sooty crew.

They decked their misshapen frames in red tunics reaching to the knee, and also wore voluminous black cloaks and crimson turbans. On every bare breast appeared the symbolic tattooing of woman, isle, and star. Silver bracelets and anklets adorned arms and legs, and some, higher in rank, had gold chains round their necks. This strange garb added to their sinister appearance, and I remarked on it to Flick, while we were one morning waiting our boat on the beach. Dosk was crouching at Harry's feet a little distance away, and we all four were looking at the negroes scattered along the sands.

“Should you reach Isk,” said I, viewing these black animals with repugnance, “I do not envy you page 104 a lengthy sojourn amongst these creatures. They are, I am certain, a horrible and cruel race.”

“No doubt, lad. But with those bows and arrows and spears they can't do much against our guns and revolvers.”

“They may have other means of defence of which we are ignorant. Who knows what their barbarism may have produced?”

“Pish! Don't talk to me, sir,” growled Roaring Tom; “it has produced nothing but what you see. With our yacht, and crew, and weapons, there will be no danger at Isk.”

“I hope there will be some fighting, at all events,” cried Harry, who approached at the moment; “but I'm pretty sure on that score. These islanders won't let their Venus be taken away without a struggle.”

“They have a right to defend their own,” said I dryly. “I don't believe in your ‘might is right’ theory, Flick.”

The captain winced at this, as he knew my opinion concerning the motive of his expedition. However, he argued the point, as usual.

“It isn't their own, Sir Denis. They stole the statue from Cythera, so why shouldn't I steal it from them? Tit for tat, my lad. It will only be a case of the biter bit.”

“I hope not in your case, captain. If—”

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Flick whipped out his revolver, and, followed by Harry and myself, made for the negroes. Page 105.

Flick whipped out his revolver, and, followed by Harry and myself, made for the negroes. Page 105.

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We were interrupted by a guttural cry from Dosk, and turned to see the poor creature struggling with four of his countrymen. Fortunately, our boat was within hail, and shouting to Jenner to row quicker, Flick whipped out his revolver, and, followed by Harry and myself, made for the negroes. Dosk uttered dismal squawks, which at any other time would have made us laugh; but the peril was too imminent for such mirth, for the negroes faced us boldly, with uplifted spears. They were apparently unacquainted with firearms, for they threw themselves fearlessly against the muzzles of our revolvers, and jabbered fiercely in their execrable tongue. Their attention being directed to us for the moment, Dosk wriggled himself free, and raced for the approaching boat. The islanders made as to follow, when we, wishing to merely frighten them, fired over their heads; whereat they set up a terrific cry, and scattered back to their companions. Then we hoisted the cause of the trouble into the boat, and rowed hastily back to the yacht.

“Oh,” said Flick savagely, “they show their teeth, do they? Well, I guess they had better keep out of range of this six-shooter.”

As for Dosk, he hid himself below, and could not be induced to leave his berth till the evening. Then I found him in the saloon, standing on a chair, and page 106 fiddling with the swing-lamp. But before relating this episode I must indicate the position of those on board, so that the reader may fully understand the event of that evening.

We usually dined at eight, and lingered at the table till past nine o'clock; while at the same time the crew, as the yacht was anchored, retired to their berths, where some turned in, and others gossiped together. Thus, with the exception of the look-out man, all on board were concentrated in two places—we in the saloon, the sailors in the forecastle. Only when it was too late, did I see how this arrangement facilitated the schemes of the negroes; but at that time we had not the slightest notion that they intended us harm, or would dare to meddle with the Carmen.

As before mentioned, I found Dosk busy with the lamp; but on catching sight of me entering the saloon, he slipped down with a growl, and, before I could stay him, he darted through the doorway, and up the companion. Rather disquieted by this peculiar conduct, I jumped up on the chair to examine the lamp in my turn, and, if possible, to ascertain the reason of Dosk's actions. In this position I was found by Harry, who had just finished dressing for dinner.

“Hallo, Denis!” cried he, opening his eyes, “why page 107 are you messing about with that lamp? Call the steward.”

“Dosk has been fiddling with it,” said I, stepping down after a fruitless inspection, “and I wanted to see what he had been up to.”

“Perhaps he has stored a lump of dynamite in the reservoir,” replied Harry jestingly. “Pooh! nonsense! I dare say he was only trying to find out where the light came from.”

As my nature is, I regret to say, incurably suspicious, this explanation, though perfectly legitimate, failed to satisfy me; and I was about to take exception to Harry's jesting when the ladies entered, followed by Flick. Not wishing to frighten them, for the mere mention of negroes alarmed Aunt Chrissy, I said nothing about Dosk's visit; but Harry, in his usual blundering way, blurted it out.

“H'm, queer smell,” said Flick, taking his seat, “a sickly sort of odour.”

“Dosk has been here, and no doubt he left the odour behind him,” said Harry carelessly.

“I wish you would keep that creature away from the saloon,” interposed Aunt Chrissy uneasily. “I don't like those black people.”

“But Dosk is harmless enough, aunty,” murmured Bertha, whom nothing alarmed.

“I don't believe it,” said the old lady energetically. page 108 “You mark my word, he's as dangerous as the rest of them.”

I confess that I agreed with Aunt Chrissy; for the sullen look and savage snarl of the negro when I disturbed him showed anything but an amiable spirit. If his countrymen were of the same savage temperament—as was probably the case—I did not envy the reception which awaited Flick and Harry at that distant isle.

During dinner we talked of the attempted capture of Dosk, and congratulated ourselves that we had carried our revolvers ashore. The adventure was sufficiently remarkable for one day, but Aunt Chrissy, who had a vein of superstition, warned us that we might expect further trouble almost immediately.

“I have always observed,” said she, with the mien of a sibyl, “that one misfortune follows another, and that two similar events occur almost together. You were attacked by the negroes this morning, Harry; depend upon it they will attack you again before twenty-four hours are over.”

“I'm sure I wish they would,” yawned Harry, blinking his eyes. “Anything to render me less sleepy.”

At this Bertha said that she also felt drowsy, and I remarked that i was more inclined for bed than table; while an interpolation by Flick ascribed this page 109 general lethargy to the closeness of the atmosphere. In fact, the atmosphere of the saloon was heavy and drowsy, as though it were the cave of Morpheus.

“Bless me, Christina, wake up!” cried Flick, rapping the table; “you are going to sleep also. What is the matter with you all? Confound it, I'm yawning myself! Here, one of you fellows, open the ports and let a breath of fresh air into the place.”

A steward ran to obey the order, but in doing so stumbled against the divan and fell full length thereon. To my astonishment he did not attempt to rise, and I looked at Harry to see what he thought of the man's action. Harry was leaning his head on his arms, his arms on the table; Aunt Chrissy was fast asleep with her head thrown back, and Bertha was hanging insensible over the side of her chair. Only Flick and I were awake, and we rose from our seats with a suspicion that there was some devilry at work.

“The lamp! the lamp!” gasped Flick, his face turning grey before my eyes. “What the—”

Then he fell also senseless on the floor near the recumbent form of the steward. Round the lamp hovered a thick golden haze, in the midst of which burnt the light indistinctly, and as I looked up, for I had been unable to keep my legs by reason page 110 of vertigo, this yellow cloud seemed to roll downward. A burning breath of poisonous air clutched me by the throat and made me gasp for air. Fortunately I had not succumbed so easily as the others, owing to the position of my seat near the open door. Towards this I crawled, unable to think, almost unable to move, while the lamp continued to send forth wave after wave of death-laden air.

With that strength of despair which comes at supreme moments I fought against that deadly atmosphere, and crawled up the companion. How I did so remains a mystery to me to this day, for I have no recollection of the painful climb. One moment I seemed to be enveloped in the perfumed fog, the next gasping for breath under the stars. Only a moment of sensibility was vouchsafed me, but in that moment, which seemed to last an hour, I heard the cry of the look-out man, and saw the negro dwarfs swarming on deck, silent and triumphant. Then I knew no more.