The Bushman | Page 7

I made towards it, intending to get upon it, and dive
off on the other side; but lo! as I approached, it stirred; then it darted
like a flash of lightning towards one side of the bay, whilst I, after
standing motionless for a moment, retreated with the utmost
expedition.
It was a ground-shark, of which there are numbers on that coast.
We lost no time in putting on our clothes again, and returned in rather a
fluttered state to the inn.

CHAPTER 3.
THE MUTINY.
We remained a week at St. Jago, the captain being busily engaged in
taking in water, and quarrelling with his crew. One day, at the
instigation of our friend, the French waiter, we made a trip of seven

miles into the interior of the island, to visit a beautiful valley called
Trinidad. Mounted on donkeys, and attended by two ragged,
copper-coloured youths, we proceeded in gallant style up the main
street, and, leaving the town, crossed the valley beyond it, and emerged
into the open country. It was a rough, stony, and hilly road, through a
barren waste, where there scarcely appeared a stray blade of grass for
the goats which rambled over it in anxious search of herbage.
At length, after a wearisome ride of several hours, we descended
suddenly into the most fertile and luxuriant valley I ever beheld, and
which seemed to extend a distance of some miles. A mountain brook
flowed down the midst, on the banks of which numerous scattered and
picturesque cottages appeared. On either side the ground was covered
with the green carpet of Nature in the spring of the year. Everywhere,
except in this smiling valley, we saw nothing but the aridity of summer,
and the desolation caused by a scorching tropical sun. But here -- how
very different! How sudden, how magical was the change! Every
species of vegetable grew here in finest luxuriance. Melons of every
variety, pine-apples, sweet potatoes, plantains, and bananas, with their
broad and drooping leaves of freshest green and rich purple flower, and
ripe yellow fruit. Orange-trees, cocoa-nut trees, limes -- the fig, the
vine, the citron, the pomegranate, and numerous others, grateful to the
weary sight, and bearing precious stores amid their branches, combined
to give the appearance of wealth and plenty to this happy valley. It was
not, however, destined to be entered by us without a fierce combat for
precedence between two of our steeds. The animal whom it was the evil
lot of Meliboeus to bestride, suddenly threw back its ears, and darted
madly upon the doctor's quadruped, which, on its side, manifested no
reluctance to the fight.
Dreadful was the scene; the furious donkeys nearing and striking with
their fore-feet, and biting each other about the head and neck without
the smallest feeling of compunction or remorse; the two guides
shrieking and swearing in Portuguese at the donkeys and each other,
and striking right and left with their long staves, perfectly indifferent as
to whom they hit; the unhappy riders, furious with fright and chagrin,
shouting in English to the belligerents of both classes to "keep off!"

The screams of two women, who were carrying water in the
neighbourhood, enhanced by the barking of a terrified cur, that ran
blindly hither and thither with its tail between its legs, in a state of
frantic excitement -- altogether produced a tableau of the most spirited
description. Peace was at length restored, and we all dismounted from
our saddles with fully as much satisfaction as we had experienced when
vaulting into them.
There is little more to say about the valley of Trinidad. The cottagers
who supply the town of Porto Praya with fruits and vegetables are
extremely poor, and very uncleanly and untidy in their houses and
habits. We had intended to spend the night with them, but the
appearance of the accommodations determined us to return to our inn,
in spite of the friendly and disinterested advice of our guides.
St. Jago abounds with soldiers and priests; the former of whom are
chiefly convicts from Lisbon, condemned to serve here in the ranks.
The day for sailing arrived, and we were all on board and ready. Our
barque was a temperance ship; that is, she belonged to owners who
refused to allow their sailors the old measure of a wine-glass of rum in
the morning, and another in the afternoon, but liberally substituted an
extra pint of water instead.
There is always one thing remarkable about these temperance ships,
that when they arrive in harbour, their crews, excited to madness by
long abstinence from their favourite liquor, and suffering in
consequence all the excruciating torments of thirst, run into violent
excesses the moment they get on shore. St. Jago is famous for a kind of
liquid