|
|
|
|
Un cyfrwys a dichellgar oedd y dyn du, cogydd y llong; tebygol na fwriadodd ef, wrth gychwyn, y gwnai ef weithio namyn ychydig ddyddiau ar hyd yr holl fordaith. Cymerodd yn ei feddwl fyned yn glaf, ar ol ein bod yn hwylio tu a dwy wythnos; ac ni afaelodd mewn arlwyo bwyd, nag mewn un gwaith arall perthynol i’r llong am wythnosau lawer. Gan iddo ddywedyd na allai ef ddilyn ei orchwyl, dodwyd un o’r morwyr, perthynol i Lynlleifiad, i lenwi ei swydd, hyd oni y gwelai ef yn dda ymiachau. Un dydd hafaidd a hyfryd, a ni yn dynesu at y cyhydedd, deuodd yr Ethiop allan o’i gwt, a dechreuodd drin y bwydydd, ac ymddangos yn lled gefnog; ond yn mhen y deuddydd neu dri dechreuodd wlawio, ac, o ganlyniad, i’w gwt a’r hen fachgen drachefn, heb weithio cymmaint ag wythnos gyfa[n] o’r dydd hwnw hyd i’r dydd y tiriasom yn Australia. Mab ieuangc, perthynol i Beaumaris, Mon, a’i enw John Jones, a ddodwyd i lenwi swydd cogydd yr eildro hyn; a chan na bu y gwr ieuangc ar y môr o’r blaen, byddai y dyn du yn estyn allan ei ben crychog trwy ddrws ei gwt, ac yn tra awdurdodi ar John Jones. Modd bynag, wedi yr aeth rhai wythnosau heibio, dyna yr hen gogydd yn addaw wrth John y deuai ef at ei orchwyl boreu dranoeth, attebodd y llangc, “Ar goreu.” Gyda’r hwyr, myfi a welwn y crych ei ben yn estyn ei ran uchaf allan trwy ddrws ei orphwysfa, gan edrych yn ol at ddrws y caban mor euog a lleidr, o ofn i’r cadben neu’r meddyg ei weled; a chan estyn ei fraich at John Jones, a’i thynu yn gyflym at ei dalcen a chwerthin, gwaeddodd, “Jack!” eithr ni wnaeth Jack un sylw o hono ef y waith gyntaf. “Ai ni chlywi mo honwyf yn galw arnat?” ebe y Du; yna troes John ei ben, a gofynodd iddo, Pa beth oedd arno eisiau ganddo: “Hwda, gwrando,” ebe’r diog, “A wyt ti yn deall na bydd i mi ddyfod allan o’r lle yma efory, os bydd yn debyg i wlawio?” ond Jack, wedi clywed hyn, a aeth ymaith, gan chwerthin, heb ei atteb. Yna gwaeddodd y Du yn groch ar ei ol, gan ofyn. “Ai nid wyt yn deall fy nywediad?” ac attebodd y llangc, y pryd hyny, “O ydwyf, O ydwyf.” Boreu dranoeth a ddaeth, ond ni ddaeth un tebygolrwydd y cyflawnai blaci ei addewid, a led grybwyllodd, er fod y diwrnod yn deg ac heb wlaw. |
The black man, the ship’s cook, was a wily and cunning one; he likely did not intend in the beginning to work more than a few days on the whole voyage. After we had been sailing about two weeks he took it into his head to fall ill, and did not put his hand to the preparation of food, nor to any other work pertaining to the ship for many weeks. With the cook apparently unable to perform his tasks, one of the sailors, a man from Liverpool, was required to take his place until he was well recovered. One pleasant and summery day as we approached the equator, the Ethiop came out of his cabin and started preparing meals, appearing to be quite healthy; but in two or three days it began to rain, and in consequence the old boy was off to his cabin again, not working as much as a whole week from that day to the day we landed in Australia. A young man called John Jones, from Beaumaris in Anglesey, was appointed ship’s cook this second time; and as he had not been to sea before, the black man would put his curly head through the door of his cabin, and order John Jones about. However, after some weeks, the old cook promised John he would return to his duties the following morning, and the boy replied, “Very well.” That evening, I saw the curly-head stretch the upper part of his body out of his cabin, looking back at the door of the cabin as guilty as a thief, lest the captain or the doctor appear. Stretching his arm out to John Jones and drawing it straight back to his forehead with a laugh, he cried, “Jack!”, but Jack took no notice of him at first. “Can’t you hear me calling you?” said the Black; then John turned his head and asked him, “What do you want?”. “Here, listen,” said the lazy man, “You understand I’ll not be coming out of here tomorrow if it’s likely to rain?”, but Jack, on hearing this, did not answer and walked away laughing. The Black called after him, asking “Don’t you understand what I said?”, and this time the lad answered, “Oh yes, oh yes.” The next morning came, but there seemed no likelihood of Blacky fulfilling his promise, though the day was fair and rainless. |
|
Yr oedd genyf fi gydymaith ar hyd y fordaith, a’i enw Phillip Rumral, yr hwn oedd forwr da, ac o deulu lled uchel; a chan nad oedd ef wedi gweithio er ys tair blynedd, cyn ei ddyfod i’r llong hon, efe a fagodd, ac a gludodd gydag ef fol go fawr, yr hyn a’i gwnaeth yn rhy anystwyth braidd i allu dringo i ben yr hwylbren. Cytunodd Phillip, fel y chwech eraill, i weithio am ei drosglwyddiad, yn ychwanegol at dalu wyth bunt yn arian: canys ei brif ddiben, wrth adael Llynlleifiad, oedd anturio i gloddfeydd yr aur. |
I had a companion on the voyage, by the name of Phillip Rumral, who was a good sailor, and of fairly gentle birth; and as he had not worked for three years before coming onto the ship, he had nurtured, and carried about with him, quite a large belly, which made him rather too inflexible to climb to the top of the mast. Phillip, like the other six, had agreed to work his passage, in addition to paying eight pounds, since his chief interest in leaving Liverpool was to try his luck on the goldfields. |
|
Gweithiodd Phillip fel dyn; ond wedi ein myned i ledred Penrhyn y Gobaith Da, aeth yn dipyn o ymddyddan rhyngddo ef a’r hen filwr mewn perthynas i’r swm a dalasant yn arian am eu cludiad tros y môr. Dywedodd yr hen filwr iddo ef dalu pump punt, a chan y talodd Phillip dair punt yn ychwaneg, efe a ystyriai mai annheg gwneyd iddo ef, ac yntau yn forwr, dalu mwy o gymmaint a hyny nag a geisiwyd gan hen filwr. |
Phillip worked like a man; but after we came into the latitude of the Cape of Good Hope, there was a bit of a discussion between him and the old soldier in relation to the sum they had paid for their passage over the sea. The old soldier told him he had paid five pounds, and as Phillip had paid three pounds more, he considered it unfair dos for him, a sailor, to pay so much more than was asked of an old soldier. |
|
Dywedodd Phillip wrthyf y gwyddai ef yr hyn a wnai oddi yno hyd i Australia tuag at wneuthur i fyny y cam a gawsai: “Pa beth yw hyny?” gofynais innau; ac attebodd, “Wel, myfi a gymmeraf arnaf fod yn glaf:” a chlaf iawn yr aeth Phillip yn ddiaros! Wedi hyn galwodd y meddyg am y claf, a chan ofyn iddo natur ei ddolur, gwaedodd ef yn ddiatreg yn ei fraich; pan ddychwelodd i’r pen blaen, gofynais pa beth oedd yr helynt ar ei aelod; ac attebodd, “O, gadael iddo fy ngwaedu a wnaethym, am fy mod yn gwybod y gallaswn ganiatau colli ychydig waed.” Erbyn hyn nid oedd yr îs-lywydd na’r meddyg yn dysgwyl i Phillip weithio hyd oni wellai ei fraich o leiaf: ond wedi amser digonol i’w fraich wella, daeth yr îs-lywydd ato, a dywedodd, “Y mae eich fraich wedi gwella bellach:” attebodd yntau, “Gwir hyny, syr, ond y mae rhyw boen anghyffredin yn fy sawdl.” Yna, gofynodd yr îs-lywydd, “Ai tybed na ellwch wneyd rhyw waith ysgafn yn y pen ol acw?” ac attebodd Phillip, “Nis gallaf ddodi dim o’m pwysau arno, syr:” ychwanegodd y llall, “Nid oes yna ddim chwydd i’w weled; “Nag oes, syr,” ebe Phillip, “ni bydd dim i’w weled, yn allanol, un amser, ond y mae poen oddi mewn!” A chafodd ef a’i sawdl lonyddwch am rai dyddiau, heb ei ofyn at unrhyw waith i’r naill ben na’r llall i’r llong. Ond ar rhyw ddiwrnod daeth y meddyg i ymholi am Phillip, ac erbyn hyny yr oedd ei boen wedi symmud o’i sawdl i’w goes; yn raddol, gyda mynediad y llong yn mlaen, dringodd ei ddolur i’w ochrau; dringodd drachefn i’w freichiau; ac erbyn cyrhaedd golwg ar dir, aeth y boen i goryn ei ben i nythu; eithr nid hir y boddlonodd yno, canys pan gyffhyrddodd sawdl esgid Phillip a’r ddaiar, ehedodd y boen ymaith o’i goryn, gan wneuthur mwy o le i feddyliau am aur. |
Phillip told me he knew what he would do from then on to make up for the wrong that had been done to him: “What’s that?” I asked him; and he answered, “Well, I’ll pretend to be sick:”, and very sick he promptly fell! Soon after this the doctor called for the patient, and after asking him the nature of his ailment, he straightway bled him from the arm; when he returned I asked him what was the matter with his limb, and he answered “Oh, I knew I could spare a little blood so I let him bleed me.” Now neither the first mate nor the doctor could expect Phillip to work until his arm healed at least: but after sufficient time had passed for his arm to mend, the first mate came to him and said, “Your arm has healed now.” “That is so, sir,” answered the other, “but I have a terrible pain in my heel.” The first mate asked, “I wonder if you could do some light work over in the stern?”, but Phillip replied, “I can’t put any weight on it, sir.” “I see no swelling,” the officer protested. “No, sir,” said Phillip, “it never shows on the outside, but it hurts inside!” And he was allowed to rest his heel for several days, no work being required of him at either end of the ship. But after a spell the doctor came to inquire after him, and by now the pain had moved from his heel to his leg; gradually, as the voyage proceeded, his ailment climbed up his sides; then again, it rose to his arms; and by the time we came in sight of land, the pain had settled at the top of his head; but it was not content to stay there long: as soon as the heel of Phillip’s boot touched earth, the pain flew from its nest, leaving more room for thoughts of gold. |
|
Yr achos i’r meddyg golli ei eirda meddygol yn mhlith yr ymfudwyr oedd a ganlyn:—pan un hwyr y ceisiai gwraig, a chanddi obaith magu, ddringo i’w gwely, hi a syrthiodd, a thaflodd ei hysgwyddog o’i lle: ond y meddyg, naill ai o ddiffyg gallu, neu heb wybod ei bod felly, ni wnaeth namyn taraw plaster i lynu ar yr ysgwydd, gan ddywedyd yr esmwythâi cyn hir; ac er fod gofal y llywodraeth, megys y sylwais eisioes, yn ddigonol gefnogaeth i fedrusrwydd y meddyg, parodd yr amgylchiad gydag ysgwydd y wraig i lawer o’r ymfudwyr haeru iddo, yn ei anwybodaeth, wenwyno mwy na haner y babanod a fuont feirw yn y llong. |
The reason the doctor had lost his medical repute among the emigrants was as follows:—one evening a woman, who was expecting a child, tried to climb into her bed, but fell, throwing her shoulder out: but the doctor, whether from lake of ability, or ignorance of her condition, did no more than put plaster on the shoulder, telling her it would mend before long; and although the charge of the government was sufficient warrant of the doctor’s competence, as mentioned already, the case of the woman’s shoulder caused many of the emigrants to maintain that the doctor had, in his ignorance, poisoned more than half of the infants which died on the ship. |
|
Wedi i ni hwylio yn ddigon pell i’r dehau, a’r hîn yn oeraidd, llywiasom yn nes at bwynt y gogledd; a daethom, mewn ychydig ddyddiau, i hînsawdd mwy hafaidd, a pharhaodd i gynnesu fel yr hwyliem yn mlaen. |
Having sailed quite far to the south into cool weather, we steered closer to the north point; and in a few days we entered a more summery climate, and it grew warmer as we sailed on. |