StillStunned
Mr Sticky
- Joined
- Jun 4, 2023
- Posts
- 11,192
(From "The Star of Africa", inspired by rewatching "Romancing the Stone", and intended to read like a 19th century adventure story)
The breeze that had carried us this far abandoned us as we approached the shore, and the stifling heat of the tropics crept over the ship. With it came the sounds of land: shouts from the dock, cries of birds from the dense greenery beyond, and overlaying it all the throbbing sound of drums.
The Tranquility’s grizzled first mate came to stand beside me at the rail, mopping at his forehead. “No place for a lady, Miss Grey, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I haven’t minded before, Mr Kerr,” I replied. In truth I was becoming tired of his warnings. His Scottish brogue was thickest when his words were laden with doom, his dark brows drawn down over his long face.
Yet I had determined to face this journey with boldness, and I saw no reason to share his gloom. So I ignored his repeated grumblings, and concentrated instead on taking in the scene before me.
After the long miles of desolation on our voyage down Africa’s coast, it was as if we had discovered an entirely new world. Although the outpost was isolated and only very small, the row of warehouses along the shore held a stately dignity, and the mansions beyond promised the comfort that I’d missed during my long weeks at sea.
Further back was a dense ring of forest, but towards the horizon the land rose in a plain dotted with tall hills. A spark of light caught my eye, nearly blinding me, and I traced the line of a river creeping back as far as I could see.
My musings, and Mr Kerr’s prophecies of disaster, were interrupted by a halloo from below. A boat had pulled up alongside, and as I peered down I heard my name being called. “Charlotte, is that you? What in Heaven’s name have you done with your hair?”
It was my brother Harry, his face turned up to mine. It was browner than the last time I’d seen him, seven years before, and happier too.
I made my farewells to the captain while my luggage was being lowered and, ignoring Mr Kerr’s mutterings, clambered down the ladder to fall gracelessly into the small boat.
Harry caught me and swept me up in a hug. “As clumsy as ever, Charlie. But it’s good to see you!”
The breeze that had carried us this far abandoned us as we approached the shore, and the stifling heat of the tropics crept over the ship. With it came the sounds of land: shouts from the dock, cries of birds from the dense greenery beyond, and overlaying it all the throbbing sound of drums.
The Tranquility’s grizzled first mate came to stand beside me at the rail, mopping at his forehead. “No place for a lady, Miss Grey, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I haven’t minded before, Mr Kerr,” I replied. In truth I was becoming tired of his warnings. His Scottish brogue was thickest when his words were laden with doom, his dark brows drawn down over his long face.
Yet I had determined to face this journey with boldness, and I saw no reason to share his gloom. So I ignored his repeated grumblings, and concentrated instead on taking in the scene before me.
After the long miles of desolation on our voyage down Africa’s coast, it was as if we had discovered an entirely new world. Although the outpost was isolated and only very small, the row of warehouses along the shore held a stately dignity, and the mansions beyond promised the comfort that I’d missed during my long weeks at sea.
Further back was a dense ring of forest, but towards the horizon the land rose in a plain dotted with tall hills. A spark of light caught my eye, nearly blinding me, and I traced the line of a river creeping back as far as I could see.
My musings, and Mr Kerr’s prophecies of disaster, were interrupted by a halloo from below. A boat had pulled up alongside, and as I peered down I heard my name being called. “Charlotte, is that you? What in Heaven’s name have you done with your hair?”
It was my brother Harry, his face turned up to mine. It was browner than the last time I’d seen him, seven years before, and happier too.
I made my farewells to the captain while my luggage was being lowered and, ignoring Mr Kerr’s mutterings, clambered down the ladder to fall gracelessly into the small boat.
Harry caught me and swept me up in a hug. “As clumsy as ever, Charlie. But it’s good to see you!”
