And yet my negroes at a later day14
Proved boldest, skilfullest of mariners.
Perilously braving mountainous ocean-waves,
And howling winds, our tight but tiny craft,
Lady Nyassa, from Mozambique flew,
Resolved to harbour in far Asia.
Mine own hands ruled the helm, my sleepless eyes
Watching the needle: often would we clutch
Fast, lest some phantom billow whirl us forth;
Hurrying, swirling, billows playing with us,
Whose foam-fangs gleam'd in night's chaotic war!
But my blithe monkey-nimble negro boys,
While our spars heaving dipp'd in hissing sea,
Climb'd undismay'd, and clinging, deftly reeved
A rope, at my bawl'd orders, through a block;
With ebony heads and frames immersed in brine,
Held their brave breaths; then with the rope between
White, shining teeth, return'd triumphantly.
When by a miracle we made the port;
Nor founder'd, leaving ne'er a living soul
To tell the tale; among tall mast-forests
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LIVINGSTONE IN AFRICA.
67
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