Benita, an African romance eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 282 pages of information about Benita, an African romance.

One or two other men scrambled after him.

“Push her off,” said the officer; “she can hold no more,” and the ropes were let go.

When they were about twelve feet from the ship’s side, from which they thrust themselves clear with oars, there came a rush of people, disappointed of places in the starboard boats.  A few of the boldest of these swarmed down the falls, others jumped and fell among them, or missed and dropped into the sea, or struck upon the sides of the boat and were killed.  Still she reached the water upon an even keel, though now much overladen.  The oars were got out, and they rowed round the bow of the great ship wallowing in her death-throes, their first idea being to make for the shore, which was not three miles away.

This brought them to the starboard side, where they saw a hideous scene.  Hundreds of people seemed to be fighting for room, with the result that some of the boats were overturned, precipitating their occupants into the water.  Others hung by the prow or the stern, the ropes having jammed in the davits in the frantic haste and confusion, while from them human beings dropped one by one.  Round others not yet launched a hellish struggle was in progress, the struggle of men, women, and children battling for their lives, in which the strong, mad with terror, showed no mercy to the weak.

From that mass of humanity, most of them about to perish, went up a babel of sounds which in its sum shaped itself to one prolonged scream, such as might proceed from a Titan in his agony.  All this beneath a brooding, moonlit sky, and on a sea as smooth as glass.  Upon the ship, which now lay upon her side, the siren still sent up its yells for succour, and some brave man continued to fire rockets, which rushed heavenwards and burst in showers of stars.

Robert remembered that the last rocket he had seen was fired at an evening fete for the amusement of the audience.  The contrast struck him as dreadful.  He wondered whether there were any power or infernal population that could be amused by a tragedy such as enacted itself before his eyes; how it came about also that such a tragedy was permitted by the merciful Strength in which mankind put their faith.

The vessel was turning over, compressed air or steam burst up the decks with loud reports; fragments of wreckage flew into the air.  There the poor captain still clung to the rail of the bridge.  Seymour could see his white face—­the moonlight seemed to paint it with a ghastly smile.  The officer in command of their boat shouted to the crew to give way lest they should be sucked down with the steamer.

Look!  Now she wallowed like a dying whale, the moonrays shone white upon her bottom, showing the jagged rent made in it by the rock on which she had struck, and now she was gone.  Only a little cloud of smoke and steam remained to mark where the Zanzibar had been.


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Benita, an African romance from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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