CHAPTER IV.
ON THE CONGO RIVER.
Van kept a good watch upon the red-whiskered sailor during the voyage,and every day he became more and more satisfied that he was no otherthan Doc Clancy, alias John Moreland.
At length the stormy Atlantic was crossed, and one day, when the sun wasso hot that it fairly melted the pitch on her decks, the _Mary Newman_came to anchor at the mouth of the Congo River, on the African coast.
Lank Edwards, the mate, had been as good as his word, and had indeedbeen a friend to our hero during the voyage.
Though Van did not like the life of a sailor any too well, he got alongfairly enough, thinking all the while that he would yet corner themurderer of his uncle, and be the means of having him conveyed to theUnited States to stand trial.
As it was past noon when the ship came to anchor, the captain concludedto wait till morning before he proceeded ten miles up the river to atrading station.
A canvas awning was stretched over the deck, and the crew of the _MaryNewman_ lay under this in a listless manner, waiting for the sun to godown so they could get the cool breeze which invariably comes afternightfall in that latitude.
Van noticed that the red-whiskered sailor appeared to be very uneasy,and he concluded to watch him closely.
The afternoon passed and darkness came, and with it the cooling breezethey so much desired.
Van was in the second watch, and, consequently, he turned into his bunksoon after mess.
But it was so warm below decks that he could not sleep, and aftertossing about for perhaps an hour, he went on deck and crawled into afold of the main jib, which made a first-class hammock.
It was cool and refreshing, and the boy soon fell asleep.
He was awakened perhaps two hours later by a wild commotion on deck.
In the twinkling of an eye he dropped from the sail and gazed about him.
A heavy smoke completely blinded him for a moment, and then he knew whatwas the matter.
The ship was on fire!
Even as this fact occurred to him, a bright column of flame leaped fromthe forward hatch, and the tarred rigging catching fire, it seemed as ifa hundred writhing, fiery serpents were shooting skyward.
Under the supervision of the captain and mates the sailors were tryingmanfully to subdue the flames, and Van rushed forward and joined them.
But the fire kept on increasing, and at the end of fifteen minutes thecaptain saw it was useless to attempt to save the ship.
Reluctantly he gave the order to lower the boats, and convey what couldbe saved of the cargo ashore.
Van ran into the forecastle to get the few things he possessed beforethe ship was abandoned.
As he reached his bunk a cry of horror escaped his lips.
By the light of the blazing rigging he saw the body of a man lying in apool of blood in the bunk he had so lately occupied.
"Great heavens!" exclaimed the boy, "this is the work of thered-whiskered sailor, and I firmly believe he mistook this man for me.Poor fellow! he no doubt crawled in my bunk after I left it, thinking itwas cooler there. I am now sure the man with the thumbless hand is DocClancy."
But there was no time for any further speculation, and Van knew thiswell.
Seizing his little bundle, he dashed up the companion way and ran toassist the crew in loading the boats.
One of these was missing, as well as two of the crew, and the captainwas at a loss to understand it.
Van ran his eye over the group of sailors, and saw that thered-whiskered fellow was one of the missing ones.
He quickly informed the mate of what he knew.
"It was he who set ther ship afire, then!" exclaimed Lank Edwards."We'll chase him up an' catch him yet, see if we don't."
The flames were now gaining rapid headway, and it behooved those onboard the doomed vessel to be as expeditious as possible.
Two of the boats were loaded and sent to the shore, which was less thanhalf a mile distant.
When these returned, the captain considered it no longer safe to stayaboard.
All hands tumbled into the boats and pushed off.
By the time they reached the shore the vessel was entirely enveloped ina pillar of flame, and though the sight was a truly grand one, thesailors did not relish it to any great degree.
"Well, boys," said the captain, sadly, "I have got enough money to payyou what wages are coming to you. I might as well do it right here, aswe will never go aboard the good _Mary Newman_ again."
He proceeded to count out the money, and each man was called up in histurn.
Van received seventeen dollars and fifty cents for the time he put inaboard the ship.
"Now, then," observed the captain, when all had been paid off, "Ipropose that we get in the boats and row up the river to a little towncalled Sonhow."
"To-night?" asked the mate.
"Yes; right away."
"How about hunting after the fellow who fired the ship?"
"There is no proof that anyone did do it. I believe the two who aremissing were burned up before they could get out of the forecastle."
"Well, I don't," returned the mate.
"All right, Mr. Edwards," spoke up the captain, a little testily, "everyone is welcome to his own opinion. If you want to start out on awild-goose chase, why, go on; I am going to Sonhow."
All save three sided with the captain, and they at once started for theboats.
Those who remained were our hero, the mate, and a young sailor namedGregory.
Van was determined to try and find the trail of Doc Clancy, and the matewas with him because he liked the boy for his pluck and earnestness inhunting down the murderer of his uncle.
Gregory wanted to find the red-whiskered man, because the sailor who hadbeen murdered was his half-brother.
"Well, what are you going to do about it?" called out the captain fromthe water's edge.
"We have decided to stay where we are till daylight," replied the mate.
"All right, then. Come down here and we will divide up the things, andas there are three boats, you may have one of them."
The three walked to the spot.
The main part of the burned vessel's cargo consisted of trinkets,calicoes, cheap jewelry, etc., to trade with the natives for variousAfrican products.
All that had been saved from the ship was four cases of these, a numberof firearms, and a good supply of sea-biscuit and salt.
The three that decided to wait were given one of the cases, six rifles,a dozen revolvers, with ample ammunition for both, and a barrel ofsea-biscuit and about one-fourth of a sack of salt.
"You might need the guns and pistols if you stay around this wildcountry very long," said the captain, as the two boats pushed off andheaded up the river.
"Good-by!" cried Van. "We are going to find the man who burned the ship.Success to you all!"
The sailors gave a cheer, and in a few minutes the boats were lost inthe darkness.
Our hero and his two companions then sat down in their boat and watchedthe still burning hull of the _Mary Newman_.
It must have been near midnight ere the hull sank from sight, and thenthe three lay down in the bottom of the boat and slept till sunrise.
Van, who was an excellent shot with the rifle, managed to shoot a coupleof birds resembling partridges, and these made them a fair breakfast.
Then they pushed off their boat and started up the river.
They had not proceeded over a mile when they came upon the two boatswhich had left them the night before.
They seemed to be drifting down the river with not a soul in either ofthem, and curious to know what was the matter, they rowed toward themwith all their might.
When they reached them, ejaculations of horror went up from all three.
In the boats were the dead bodies of the captain and those who had setout with him, literally hacked to pieces.
"Great God!" groaned Van. "Is this to be our fate, I wonder?"
Neither the mat
e or Gregory chose to answer his question, but pushedaway from the horrible sight with all possible speed.
Just then a rifle shot rang out on the still morning air.
The mate threw up his arms and fell to the bottom of the boat.
Van seized his rifle and turned his gaze to the shore.
Standing at the edge of a clump of tall reeds was Doc Clancy!