Page:Travels in West Africa, Congo Français, Corisco and Cameroons (IA travelsinwestafr00kingrich).pdf/455

 chair, the bundle of bedding, the boxes of sand for ballast, all together anyhow; and for dunnage, parcels of the men's aguma and neat little packets of salt, done up in plantain leaves tied round with tie-tie; and an untidily made up bundle of yam, pieces whereof have got out of the plantain leaf and evaded the tie-tie, and are now wandering about, mixed up with most things. I think, at first, that Mr. Hudson's clean, tidy, deck-chair is underneath everything; I can just see a corner of it sticking out beneath a box of sand, like Mr. Pecksniff's feelings, or the Princes in the Tower, only it is anything but pillows that are smothering it. On making a spirited rescue of the chair, I find, however, that Dr. Nassau's bedding is the thing that really is in the bilge water. During these operations, I jump forward, on to what I imagine is a lot of the crew's clothes, and "Oh! that's my husband," cries the lady passenger, "you fit to hurt him proper"; he upsets me on to the cargo, and groans a good deal and talks about compensation; but I say "he had come at shipper's own risk," and I have "no liability," so he settles down again. When I have finished stowing cargo we set out to sea—Eveke at the helm. I find I am expected to sit surrounded by a rim of alligator pears and bananas, as though I were some kind of joint garnished for table, instead of a West Coast skipper. The Lafayette having neither cabin nor locker is extremely difficult to keep tidy. There is, unavoidably, an all the coals adrift on deck, half the rails below" look about her, do what one will. I stow the pears in under the end strut, where there is a hole with an ornamental woodwork flourish round it, but no door; so those charming fruit will persist in coming larking out again as soon as ever I have got them in. "Oh, it's a dog's life, is the sea, for a man," as my sailor friends say. Eveke meanwhile takes us out of Nassau Bay through Baña Bank and then goes to sleep and I take charge. My lady passenger is quite the lady passenger, frightened of the sea, and dissatisfied with the accommodation. I have stowed her with every care in the bottom of the boat, on the bedding athwart-ships, and she is grateful for the attention; but says "the vessel is not big enough," and goes on eating excruciatingly sour limes in a