After the funeral, the crew were called aft, and the first lieutenant, Mr. Nicholson,[20] told us that it should be left to our decision whether he should assume the command and continue the cruise, or return home. We gave him three hearty cheers, in token of our wish to continue the cruise. He was a noble-minded man, very kind and civil to his crew; and the opposite, in every respect, to the haughty, lordly captain with whom I first sailed in the _Macedonian_. Seeing me one day with rather a poor hat on, he called me aft and presented me with one of his own, but little worn. “Good luck to him,” said I, in sailor phrase, as I returned to my messmates; “he has a soul to be saved.” We also lost two of our crew, who fell victims to the heat of the climate.
One morning the cry of “Sail ho!” directed our attention to a strange sail, which had hove to, with her courses hauled up. At first, we took her for a British man-of-war brig. The hands were summoned to quarters, and the ship got ready for action. A nearer approach, however, convinced us that the supposed enemy, was no other than our old friend, the _Grand Turk_. She did not appear to know us; for no sooner did she see that our craft was a brig of war, than, supposing us to belong to Johnny Bull, she crowded all her canvas, and made the best of her way off. Knowing what she was, we permitted her to escape without further alarm.
The first land we made was Cape Mount. The natives came off to a considerable distance in their canoes, clothed in nothing but a piece of cloth fastened round the waist, and extending downward to the feet. As we approached the shore, we saw several fires burning; this, we were told, in the broken English spoken by our sable visitors, was the signal for trade. We bought a quantity of oranges, limes, cocoanuts, tamarinds, plantains, yams and bananas. We likewise took in a quantity of cassava, a species of ground root, of which we made tolerable pudding and bread; also a few hogs and some water.
We lay here several days looking out for any English vessels that might come thither for purposes of trade.
Meanwhile, we began to experience the inconvenience of a hot climate. Our men were all covered with blotches or boils, probably occasioned by so sudden a transition from extreme cold to extreme heat. What was worse than this, was the want of a plentiful supply of water. In the absence of this, we were placed on an allowance of two quarts per diem, to each man. This occasioned us much suffering; for, after mixing our Indian for puddings, our cassava for bread, and our whisky for grog, we had but little left to assuage our burning thirst. Some, in their distress, drank large quantities of sea water, which only increased their thirst and made them sick; others sought relief in chewing lead, tea-leaves, or anything which would create moisture. Never did we feel more delighted than when our boat’s crew announced the discovery of a pool of fine clear water. We received it with greater satisfaction than ever prodigal did tidings of the death of some rich old relative, to whose well-laden purse he was undisputed heir. We could have joined in the most enthusiastic cold-water song ever sung by either hermit or Washingtonian.[21]