The Coral Island

A Tale of the Pacific Ocean

by R. M. Ballantyne

Preface

I was a boy when I went through the wonderful adventures herein set

down. With the memory of my boyish feelings strong upon me, I

present my book specially to boys, in the earnest hope that they

may derive valuable information, much pleasure, great profit, and

unbounded amusement from its pages.

One word more. If there is any boy or man who loves to be

melancholy and morose, and who cannot enter with kindly sympathy

into the regions of fun, let me seriously advise him to shut my

book and put it away. It is not meant for him.

RALPH ROVER

CHAPTER I.

The beginning - My early life and character - I thirst for

adventure in foreign lands and go to sea.

ROVING has always been, and still is, my ruling passion, the joy of

my heart, the very sunshine of my existence. In childhood, in

boyhood, and in man’s estate, I have been a rover; not a mere

rambler among the woody glens and upon the hill-tops of my own

native land, but an enthusiastic rover throughout the length and

breadth of the wide wide world.

It was a wild, black night of howling storm, the night in which I

was born on the foaming bosom of the broad Atlantic Ocean. My

father was a sea-captain; my grandfather was a sea-captain; my

great-grandfather had been a marine. Nobody could tell positively

what occupation HIS father had followed; but my dear mother used to

assert that he had been a midshipman, whose grandfather, on the

mother’s side, had been an admiral in the royal navy. At anyrate

we knew that, as far back as our family could be traced, it had

been intimately connected with the great watery waste. Indeed this

was the case on both sides of the house; for my mother always went

to sea with my father on his long voyages, and so spent the greater

part of her life upon the water.

Thus it was, I suppose, that I came to inherit a roving

disposition. Soon after I was born, my father, being old, retired

from a seafaring life, purchased a small cottage in a fishing

village on the west coast of England, and settled down to spend the

evening of his life on the shores of that sea which had for so many

years been his home. It was not long after this that I began to

show the roving spirit that dwelt within me. For some time past my

infant legs had been gaining strength, so that I came to be

dissatisfied with rubbing the skin off my chubby knees by walking

on them, and made many attempts to stand up and walk like a man;

all of which attempts, however, resulted in my sitting down

violently and in sudden surprise. One day I took advantage of my

dear mother’s absence to make another effort; and, to my joy, I

actually succeeded in reaching the doorstep, over which I tumbled

into a pool of muddy water that lay before my father’s cottage

door. Ah, how vividly I remember the horror of my poor mother when

she found me sweltering in the mud amongst a group of cackling

ducks, and the tenderness with which she stripped off my dripping

clothes and washed my dirty little body! From this time forth my

rambles became more frequent, and, as I grew older, more distant,

until at last I had wandered far and near on the shore and in the

woods around our humble dwelling, and did not rest content until my

father bound me apprentice to a coasting vessel, and let me go to

sea.

For some years I was happy in visiting the sea-ports, and in

coasting along the shores of my native land. My Christian name was

Ralph, and my comrades added to this the name of Rover, in

consequence of the passion which I always evinced for travelling.

Rover was not my real name, but as I never received any other I

came at last to answer to it as naturally as to my proper name;

and, as it is not a bad one, I see no good reason why I should not

introduce myself to the reader as Ralph Rover. My shipmates were

kind, good-natured fellows, and they and I got on very well

together. They did, indeed, very frequently make game of and

banter me, but not unkindly; and I overheard them sometimes saying

that Ralph Rover was a “queer, old-fashioned fellow.” This, I must

confess, surprised me much, and I pondered the saying long, but

could come at no satisfactory conclusion as to that wherein my old-fashionedness lay. It is true I was a quiet lad, and seldom spoke

except when spoken to. Moreover, I never could understand the

jokes of my companions even when they were explained to me: which

dulness in apprehension occasioned me much grief; however, I tried

to make up for it by smiling and looking pleased when I observed

that they were laughing at some witticism which I had failed to

detect. I was also very fond of inquiring into the nature of

things and their causes, and often fell into fits of abstraction

while thus engaged in my mind. But in all this I saw nothing that

did not seem to be exceedingly natural, and could by no means

understand why my comrades should call me “an old-fashioned

fellow.”

Now, while engaged in the coasting trade, I fell in with many

seamen who had travelled to almost every quarter of the globe; and

I freely confess that my heart glowed ardently within me as they

recounted their wild adventures in foreign lands, - the dreadful

storms they had weathered, the appalling dangers they had escaped,

the wonderful creatures they had seen both on the land and in the

sea, and the interesting lands and strange people they had visited.

But of all the places of which they told me, none captivated and

charmed my imagination so much as the Coral Islands of the Southern

Seas. They told me of thousands of beautiful fertile islands that

had been formed by a small creature called the coral insect, where

summer reigned nearly all the year round, - where the trees were

laden with a constant harvest of luxuriant fruit, - where the

climate was almost perpetually delightful, - yet where, strange to

say, men were wild, bloodthirsty savages, excepting in those

favoured isles to which the gospel of our Saviour had been

conveyed. These exciting accounts had so great an effect upon my

mind, that, when I reached the age of fifteen, I resolved to make a

voyage to the South Seas.

I had no little difficulty at first in prevailing on my dear

parents to let me go; but when I urged on my father that he would

never have become a great captain had he remained in the coasting

trade, he saw the truth of what I said, and gave his consent. My

dear mother, seeing that my father had made up his mind, no longer

offered opposition to my wishes. “But oh, Ralph,” she said, on the

day I bade her adieu, “come back soon to us, my dear boy, for we

are getting old now, Ralph, and may not have many years to live.”

I will not take up my reader’s time with a minute account of all

that occurred before I took my final leave of my dear parents.

Suffice it to say, that my father placed me under the charge of an

old mess-mate of his own, a merchant captain, who was on the point

of sailing to the South Seas in his own ship, the Arrow. My mother

gave me her blessing and a small Bible; and her last request was,

that I would never forget to read a chapter every day, and say my

prayers; which I promised, with tears in my eyes, that I would

certainly do.

Soon afterwards I went on board the Arrow, which was a fine large

ship, and set sail for the islands of the Pacific Ocean.

CHAPTER II.

The departure - The sea - My companions - Some account of the

wonderful sights we saw on the great deep - A dreadful storm and a

frightful wreck.

IT was a bright, beautiful, warm day when our ship spread her

canvass to the breeze, and sailed for the regions of the south.

Oh, how my heart bounded with delight as I listened to the merry

chorus of the sailors, while they hauled at the ropes and got in

the anchor! The captain shouted - the men ran to obey - the noble

ship bent over to the breeze, and the shore gradually faded from my

view, while I stood looking on with a kind of feeling that the

whole was a delightful dream.

The first thing that struck me as being different from anything I

had yet seen during my short career on the sea, was the hoisting of

the anchor on deck, and lashing it firmly down with ropes, as if we

had now bid adieu to the land for ever, and would require its

services no more.

“There, lass,” cried a broad-shouldered jack-tar, giving the fluke

of the anchor a hearty slap with his hand after the housing was

completed - “there, lass, take a good nap now, for we shan’t ask

you to kiss the mud again for many a long day to come!”

And so it was. That anchor did not “kiss the mud” for many long

days afterwards; and when at last it did, it was for the last time!

There were a number of boys in the ship, but two of them were my

special favourites. Jack Martin was a tall, strapping, broad-shouldered youth of eighteen, with a handsome, good-humoured, firm

face. He had had a good education, was clever and hearty and lion-like in his actions, but mild and quiet in disposition. Jack was a

general favourite, and had a peculiar fondness for me. My other

companion was Peterkin Gay. He was little, quick, funny, decidedly

mischievous, and about fourteen years old. But Peterkin’s mischief

was almost always harmless, else he could not have been so much

beloved as he was.

“Hallo! youngster,” cried Jack Martin, giving me a slap on the

shoulder, the day I joined the ship, “come below and I’ll show you

your berth. You and I are to be mess-mates, and I think we shall

be good friends, for I like the look o’ you.”

Jack was right. He and I and Peterkin afterwards became the best

and stanchest friends that ever tossed together on the stormy

waves.

I shall say little about the first part of our voyage. We had the

usual amount of rough weather and calm; also we saw many strange

fish rolling in the sea, and I was greatly delighted one day by

seeing a shoal of flying fish dart out of the water and skim

through the air about a foot above the surface. They were pursued

by dolphins, which feed on them, and one flying-fish in its terror

flew over the ship, struck on the rigging, and fell upon the deck.

Its wings were just fins elongated, and we found that they could

never fly far at a time, and never mounted into the air like birds,

but skimmed along the surface of the sea. Jack and I had it for

dinner, and found it remarkably good.

When we approached Cape Horn, at the southern extremity of America,

the weather became very cold and stormy, and the sailors began to

tell stories about the furious gales and the dangers of that

terrible cape.

“Cape Horn,” said one, “is the most horrible headland I ever

doubled. I’ve sailed round it twice already, and both times the

ship was a’most blow’d out o’ the water.”

“An’ I’ve been round it once,” said another, “an’ that time the

sails were split, and the ropes frozen in the blocks, so that they

wouldn’t work, and we wos all but lost.”

“An’ I’ve been round it five times,” cried a third, “an’ every time

wos wuss than another, the gales wos so tree-mendous!”

“And I’ve been round it no times at all,” cried Peterkin, with an

impudent wink of his eye, “an’ THAT time I wos blow’d inside out!”

Nevertheless, we passed the dreaded cape without much rough

weather, and, in the course of a few weeks afterwards, were sailing

gently, before a warm tropical breeze, over the Pacific Ocean.

Thus we proceeded on our voyage, sometimes bounding merrily before

a fair breeze, at other times floating calmly on the glassy wave

and fishing for the curious inhabitants of the deep, - all of

which, although the sailors thought little of them, were strange,

and interesting, and very wonderful to me.

At last we came among the Coral Islands of the Pacific, and I shall

never forget the delight with which I gazed, - when we chanced to

pass one, - at the pure, white, dazzling shores, and the verdant

palm-trees, which looked bright and beautiful in the sunshine. And

often did we three long to be landed on one, imagining that we

should certainly find perfect happiness there! Our wish was

granted sooner than we expected.

One night, soon after we entered the tropics, an awful storm burst

upon our ship. The first squall of wind carried away two of our

masts; and left only the foremast standing. Even this, however,

was more than enough, for we did not dare to hoist a rag of sail on

it. For five days the tempest raged in all its fury. Everything

was swept off the decks except one small boat. The steersman was

lashed to the wheel, lest he should be washed away, and we all gave

ourselves up for lost. The captain said that he had no idea where

we were, as we had been blown far out of our course; and we feared

much that we might get among the dangerous coral reefs which are so

numerous in the Pacific. At day-break on the sixth morning of the

gale we saw land ahead. It was an island encircled by a reef of

coral on which the waves broke in fury. There was calm water

within this reef, but we could only see one narrow opening into it.

For this opening we steered, but, ere we reached it, a tremendous

wave broke on our stern, tore the rudder completely off, and left

us at the mercy of the winds and waves.

“It’s all over with us now, lads,” said the captain to the men;

“get the boat ready to launch; we shall be on the rocks in less

than half an hour.”

The men obeyed in gloomy silence, for they felt that there was

little hope of so small a boat living in such a sea.

“Come boys,” said Jack Martin, in a grave tone, to me and Peterkin,

as we stood on the quarterdeck awaiting our fate; - “Come boys, we

three shall stick together. You see it is impossible that the

little boat can reach the shore, crowded with men. It will be sure

to upset, so I mean rather to trust myself to a large oar, I see

through the telescope that the ship will strike at the tail of the

reef, where the waves break into the quiet water inside; so, if we

manage to cling to the oar till it is driven over the breakers, we

may perhaps gain the shore. What say you; will you join me?”

We gladly agreed to follow Jack, for he inspired us with

confidence, although I could perceive, by the sad tone of his

voice, that he had little hope; and, indeed, when I looked at the

white waves that lashed the reef and boiled against the rocks as if

in fury, I felt that there was but a step between us and death. My

heart sank within me; but at that moment my thoughts turned to my

beloved mother, and I remembered those words, which were among the

last that she said to me - “Ralph, my dearest child, always

remember in the hour of danger to look to your Lord and Saviour

Jesus Christ. He alone is both able and willing to save your body

and your soul.” So I felt much comforted when I thought thereon.

The ship was now very near the rocks. The men were ready with the

boat, and the captain beside them giving orders, when a tremendous

wave came towards us. We three ran towards the bow to lay hold of

our oar, and had barely reached it when the wave fell on the deck

with a crash like thunder. At the same moment the ship struck, the

foremast broke off close to the deck and went over the side,

carrying the boat and men along with it. Our oar got entangled

with the wreck, and Jack seized an axe to cut it free, but, owing

to the motion of the ship, he missed the cordage and struck the axe

deep into the oar. Another wave, however, washed it clear of the

wreck. We all seized hold of it, and the next instant we were

struggling in the wild sea. The last thing I saw was the boat

whirling in the surf, and all the sailors tossed into the foaming

waves. Then I became insensible.

On recovering from my swoon, I found myself lying on a bank of soft

grass, under the shelter of an overhanging rock, with Peterkin on

his knees by my side, tenderly bathing my temples with water, and

endeavouring to stop the blood that flowed from a wound in my

forehead.

CHAPTER III.

The Coral Island - Our first cogitations after landing, and the

result of them - We conclude that the island is uninhabited.

THERE is a strange and peculiar sensation experienced in recovering

from a state of insensibility, which is almost indescribable; a

sort of dreamy, confused consciousness; a half-waking half-sleeping

condition, accompanied with a feeling of weariness, which, however,

is by no means disagreeable. As I slowly recovered and heard the

voice of Peterkin inquiring whether I felt better, I thought that I

must have overslept myself, and should be sent to the masthead for

being lazy; but before I could leap up in haste, the thought seemed

to vanish suddenly away, and I fancied that I must have been ill.

Then a balmy breeze fanned my cheek, and I thought of home, and the

garden at the back of my father’s cottage, with its luxuriant

flowers, and the sweet-scented honey-suckle that my dear mother

trained so carefully upon the trellised porch. But the roaring of

the surf put these delightful thoughts to flight, and I was back

again at sea, watching the dolphins and the flying-fish, and

reefing topsails off the wild and stormy Cape Horn. Gradually the

roar of the surf became louder and more distinct. I thought of

being wrecked far far away from my native land, and slowly opened

my eyes to meet those of my companion Jack, who, with a look of

intense anxiety, was gazing into my face.

“Speak to us, my dear Ralph,” whispered Jack, tenderly, “are you

better now?”

I smiled and looked up, saying, “Better; why, what do you mean,

Jack? I’m quite well”

“Then what are you shamming for, and frightening us in this way?”

said Peterkin, smiling through his tears; for the poor boy had been

really under the impression that I was dying.

I now raised myself on my elbow, and putting my hand to my

forehead, found that it had been cut pretty severely, and that I

had lost a good deal of blood.

“Come, come, Ralph,” said Jack, pressing me gently backward, “lie

down, my boy; you’re not right yet. Wet your lips with this water,

it’s cool and clear as crystal. I got it from a spring close at

hand. There now, don’t say a word, hold your tongue,” said he,

seeing me about to speak. “I’ll tell you all about it, but you

must not utter a syllable till you have rested well.”

“Oh! don’t stop him from speaking, Jack,” said Peterkin, who, now

that his fears for my safety were removed, busied himself in

erecting a shelter of broken branches in order to protect me from

the wind; which, however, was almost unnecessary, for the rock

beside which I had been laid completely broke the force of the

gale. “Let him speak, Jack; it’s a comfort to hear that he’s

alive, after lying there stiff and white and sulky for a whole

hour, just like an Egyptian mummy. Never saw such a fellow as you

are, Ralph; always up to mischief. You’ve almost knocked out all

my teeth and more than half choked me, and now you go shamming

dead! It’s very wicked of you, indeed it is.”

While Peterkin ran on in this style, my faculties became quite

clear again, and I began to understand my position. “What do you

mean by saying I half choked you, Peterkin?” said I.

“What do I mean? Is English not your mother tongue, or do you want

me to repeat it in French, by way of making it clearer? Don’t you

remember - “

“I remember nothing,” said I, interrupting him, “after we were

thrown into the sea.”

“Hush, Peterkin,” said Jack, “you’re exciting Ralph with your

nonsense. I’ll explain it to you. You recollect that after the

ship struck, we three sprang over the bow into the sea; well, I

noticed that the oar struck your head and gave you that cut on the

brow, which nearly stunned you, so that you grasped Peterkin round

the neck without knowing apparently what you were about. In doing

so you pushed the telescope, - which you clung to as if it had been

your life, - against Peterkin’s mouth - “

“Pushed it against his mouth!” interrupted Peterkin, “say crammed

it down his throat. Why, there’s a distinct mark of the brass rim

on the back of my gullet at this moment!”

“Well, well, be that as it may,” continued Jack, “you clung to him,

Ralph, till I feared you really would choke him; but I saw that he

had a good hold of the oar, so I exerted myself to the utmost to

push you towards the shore, which we luckily reached without much

trouble, for the water inside the reef is quite calm.”

“But the captain and crew, what of them?” I inquired anxiously.

Jack shook his head.

“Are they lost?”

“No, they are not lost, I hope, but I fear there is not much chance

of their being saved. The ship struck at the very tail of the

island on which we are cast. When the boat was tossed into the sea

it fortunately did not upset, although it shipped a good deal of

water, and all the men managed to scramble into it; but before they

could get the oars out the gale carried them past the point and

away to leeward of the island. After we landed I saw them

endeavouring to pull towards us, but as they had only one pair of

oars out of the eight that belong to the boat, and as the wind was

blowing right in their teeth, they gradually lost ground. Then I

saw them put about and hoist some sort of sail, - a blanket, I

fancy, for it was too small for the boat, - and in half an hour

they were out of sight.”

“Poor fellows,” I murmured sorrowfully.

“But the more I think about it, I’ve better hope of them,”

continued Jack, in a more cheerful tone. “You see, Ralph, I’ve

read a great deal about these South Sea Islands, and I know that in

many places they are scattered about in thousands over the sea, so

they’re almost sure to fall in with one of them before long.”

“I’m sure I hope so,” said Peterkin, earnestly. “But what has

become of the wreck, Jack? I saw you clambering up the rocks there

while I was watching Ralph. Did you say she had gone to pieces?”

“No, she has not gone to pieces, but she has gone to the bottom,”

replied Jack. “As I said before, she struck on the tail of the

island and stove in her bow, but the next breaker swung her clear,

and she floated away to leeward. The poor fellows in the boat made

a hard struggle to reach her, but long before they came near her

she filled and went down. It was after she foundered that I saw

them trying to pull to the island.”

There wan a long silence after Jack ceased speaking, and I have no

doubt that each was revolving in his mind our extraordinary

position. For my part I cannot say that my reflections were very

agreeable. I knew that we were on an island, for Jack had said so,

but whether it was inhabited or not I did not know. If it should

be inhabited, I felt certain, from all I had heard of South Sea

Islanders, that we should be roasted alive and eaten. If it should

turn out to be uninhabited, I fancied that we should be starved to

death. “Oh!” thought I, “if the ship had only stuck on the rocks

we might have done pretty well, for we could have obtained

provisions from her, and tools to enable us to build a shelter, but

now - alas! alas! we are lost!” These last words I uttered aloud

in my distress.

“Lost! Ralph?” exclaimed Jack, while a smile overspread his hearty

countenance. “Saved, you should have said. Your cogitations seem

to have taken a wrong road, and led you to a wrong conclusion.”

“Do you know what conclusion I have come to?” said Peterkin. “I

have made up my mind that it’s capital, - first rate, - the best

thing that ever happened to us, and the most splendid prospect that

ever lay before three jolly young tars. We’ve got an island all to

ourselves. We’ll take possession in the name of the king; we’ll go

and enter the service of its black inhabitants. Of course we’ll

rise, naturally, to the top of affairs. White men always do in

savage countries. You shall be king, Jack; Ralph, prime minister,

and I shall be - “

“The court jester,” interrupted Jack.

“No,” retorted Peterkin, “I’ll have no title at all. I shall

merely accept a highly responsible situation under government, for

you see, Jack, I’m fond of having an enormous salary and nothing to

do.”

“But suppose there are no natives?”

“Then we’ll build a charming villa, and plant a lovely garden round

it, stuck all full of the most splendiferous tropical flowers, and

we’ll farm the land, plant, sow, reap, eat, sleep, and be merry.”

“But to be serious,” said Jack, assuming a grave expression of

countenance, which I observed always had the effect of checking

Peterkin’s disposition to make fun of everything, “we are really in

rather an uncomfortable position. If this is a desert island, we

shall have to live very much like the wild beasts, for we have not

a tool of any kind, not even a knife.”

“Yes, we have THAT,” said Peterkin, fumbling in his trousers

pocket, from which he drew forth a small penknife with only one

blade, and that was broken.

“Well, that’s better than nothing; but come,” said Jack, rising,

“we are wasting our time in TALKING instead of DOING. You seem

well enough to walk now, Ralph, let us see what we have got in our

pockets, and then let us climb some hill and ascertain what sort of

island we have been cast upon, for, whether good or bad, it seems

likely to be our home for some time to come.”

CHAPTER IV.

We examine into our personal property, and make a happy discovery -

Our island described - Jack proves himself to be learned and

sagacious above his fellows - Curious discoveries - Natural

lemonade!

WE now seated ourselves upon a rock and began to examine into our

personal property. When we reached the shore, after being wrecked,

my companions had taken off part of their clothes and spread them

out in the sun to dry, for, although the gale was raging fiercely,

there was not a single cloud in the bright sky. They had also

stripped off most part of my wet clothes and spread them also on

the rocks. Having resumed our garments, we now searched all our

pockets with the utmost care, and laid their contents out on a flat

stone before us; and, now that our minds were fully alive to our

condition, it was with no little anxiety that we turned our several

pockets inside out, in order that nothing might escape us. When

all was collected together we found that our worldly goods

consisted of the following articles:-

First, A small penknife with a single blade broken off about the

middle and very rusty, besides having two or three notches on its

edge. (Peterkin said of this, with his usual pleasantry, that it

would do for a saw as well as a knife, which was a great

advantage.) Second, An old German-silver pencil-case without any

lead in it. Third, A piece of whip-cord about six yards long.

Fourth, A sailmaker’s needle of a small size. Fifth, A ship’s

telescope, which I happened to have in my hand at the time the ship

struck, and which I had clung to firmly all the time I was in the

water. Indeed it was with difficulty that Jack got it out of my

grasp when I was lying insensible on the shore. I cannot

understand why I kept such a firm hold of this telescope. They say

that a drowning man will clutch at a straw. Perhaps it may have

been some such feeling in me, for I did not know that it was in my

hand at the time we were wrecked. However, we felt some pleasure

in having it with us now, although we did not see that it could be

of much use to us, as the glass at the small end was broken to

pieces. Our sixth article was a brass ring which Jack always wore

on his little finger. I never understood why he wore it, for Jack

was not vain of his appearance, and did not seem to care for

ornaments of any kind. Peterkin said “it was in memory of the girl

he left behind him!” But as he never spoke of this girl to either

of us, I am inclined to think that Peterkin was either jesting or

mistaken. In addition to these articles we had a little bit of

tinder, and the clothes on our backs. These last were as follows:-

Each of us had on a pair of stout canvass trousers, and a pair of

sailors’ thick shoes. Jack wore a red flannel shirt, a blue

jacket, and a red Kilmarnock bonnet or night-cap, besides a pair of

worsted socks, and a cotton pocket-handkerchief, with sixteen

portraits of Lord Nelson printed on it, and a union Jack in the

middle. Peterkin had on a striped flannel shirt, - which he wore

outside his trousers, and belted round his waist, after the manner

of a tunic, - and a round black straw hat. He had no jacket,

having thrown it off just before we were cast into the sea; but

this was not of much consequence, as the climate of the island

proved to be extremely mild; so much so, indeed, that Jack and I

often preferred to go about without our jackets. Peterkin had also

a pair of white cotton socks, and a blue handkerchief with white

spots all over it. My own costume consisted of a blue flannel

shirt, a blue jacket, a black cap, and a pair of worsted socks,

besides the shoes and canvass trousers already mentioned. This was

all we had, and besides these things we had nothing else; but, when

we thought of the danger from which we had escaped, and how much

worse off we might have been had the ship struck on the reef during

the night, we felt very thankful that we were possessed of so much,

although, I must confess, we sometimes wished that we had had a

little more.

While we were examining these things, and talking about them, Jack

suddenly started and exclaimed -

“The oar! we have forgotten the oar.”

“What good will that do us?” said Peterkin; “there’s wood enough on

the island to make a thousand oars.”

“Ay, lad,” replied Jack, “but there’s a bit of hoop iron at the end

of it, and that may be of much use to us.”

“Very true,” said I, “let us go fetch it;” and with that we all

three rose and hastened down to the beach. I still felt a little

weak from loss of blood, so that my companions soon began to leave

me behind; but Jack perceived this, and, with his usual considerate

good nature, turned back to help me. This was now the first time

that I had looked well about me since landing, as the spot where I

had been laid was covered with thick bushes which almost hid the

country from our view. As we now emerged from among these and

walked down the sandy beach together, I cast my eyes about, and,

truly, my heart glowed within me and my spirits rose at the

beautiful prospect which I beheld on every side. The gale had

suddenly died away, just as if it had blown furiously till it

dashed our ship upon the rocks, and had nothing more to do after

accomplishing that. The island on which we stood was hilly, and

covered almost everywhere with the most beautiful and richly

coloured trees, bushes, and shrubs, none of which I knew the names

of at that time, except, indeed, the cocoa-nut palms, which I

recognised at once from the many pictures that I had seen of them

before I left home. A sandy beach of dazzling whiteness lined this

bright green shore, and upon it there fell a gentle ripple of the

sea. This last astonished me much, for I recollected that at home

the sea used to fall in huge billows on the shore long after a

storm had subsided. But on casting my glance out to sea the cause

became apparent. About a mile distant from the shore I saw the

great billows of the ocean rolling like a green wall, and falling

with a long, loud roar, upon a low coral reef, where they were

dashed into white foam and flung up in clouds of spray. This spray

sometimes flew exceedingly high, and, every here and there, a

beautiful rainbow was formed for a moment among the falling drops.

We afterwards found that this coral reef extended quite round the

island, and formed a natural breakwater to it. Beyond this the sea

rose and tossed violently from the effects of the storm; but

between the reef and the shore it was as calm and as smooth as a

pond.

My heart was filled with more delight than I can express at sight

of so many glorious objects, and my thoughts turned suddenly to the

contemplation of the Creator of them all. I mention this the more

gladly, because at that time, I am ashamed to say, I very seldom

thought of my Creator, although I was constantly surrounded by the

most beautiful and wonderful of His works. I observed from the

expression of my companion’s countenance that he too derived much

joy from the splendid scenery, which was all the more agreeable to

us after our long voyage on the salt sea. There, the breeze was

fresh and cold, but here it was delightfully mild; and, when a puff

blew off the land, it came laden with the most exquisite perfume

that can be imagined. While we thus gazed, we were startled by a

loud “Huzza!” from Peterkin, and, on looking towards the edge of

the sea, we saw him capering and jumping about like a monkey, and

ever and anon tugging with all his might at something that lay upon

the shore.

“What an odd fellow he is, to be sure,” said Jack, taking me by the

arm and hurrying forward; “come, let us hasten to see what it is.”

“Here it is, boys, hurrah! come along. Just what we want,” cried

Peterkin, as we drew near, still tugging with all his power.

“First rate; just the very ticket!”

I need scarcely say to my readers that my companion Peterkin was in

the habit of using very remarkable and peculiar phrases. And I am

free to confess that I did not well understand the meaning of some

of them, - such, for instance, as “the very ticket;” but I think it

my duty to recount everything relating to my adventures with a

strict regard to truthfulness in as far as my memory serves me; so

I write, as nearly as possible, the exact words that my companions

spoke. I often asked Peterkin to explain what he meant by

“ticket,” but he always answered me by going into fits of laughter.

However, by observing the occasions on which he used it, I came to

understand that it meant to show that something was remarkably

good, or fortunate.

On coming up we found that Peterkin was vainly endeavouring to pull

the axe out of the oar, into which, it will be remembered, Jack

struck it while endeavouring to cut away the cordage among which it

had become entangled at the bow of the ship. Fortunately for us

the axe had remained fast in the oar, and even now, all Peterkin’s

strength could not draw it out of the cut.

“Ah! that is capital indeed,” cried Jack, at the same time giving

the axe a wrench that plucked it out of the tough wood. “How

fortunate this is! It will be of more value to us than a hundred

knives, and the edge is quite new and sharp.”

“I’ll answer for the toughness of the handle at any rate,” cried

Peterkin; “my arms are nearly pulled out of the sockets. But see

here, our luck is great. There is iron on the blade.” He pointed

to a piece of hoop iron, as he spoke, which had been nailed round

the blade of the oar to prevent it from splitting.

This also was a fortunate discovery. Jack went down on his knees,

and with the edge of the axe began carefully to force out the

nails. But as they were firmly fixed in, and the operation blunted

our axe, we carried the oar up with us to the place where we had

left the rest of our things, intending to burn the wood away from

the iron at a more convenient time.

“Now, lads,” said Jack, after we had laid it on the stone which

contained our little all, “I propose that we should go to the tail

of the island, where the ship struck, which is only a quarter of a

mile off, and see if anything else has been thrown ashore. I don’t

expect anything, but it is well to see. When we get back here it

will be time to have our supper and prepare our beds.”

“Agreed!” cried Peterkin and I together, as, indeed, we would have

agreed to any proposal that Jack made; for, besides his being older

and much stronger and taller than either of us, he was a very

clever fellow, and I think would have induced people much older

than himself to choose him for their leader, especially if they

required to be led on a bold enterprise.

Now, as we hastened along the white beach, which shone so brightly

in the rays of the setting sun that our eyes were quite dazzled by

its glare, it suddenly came into Peterkin’s head that we had

nothing to eat except the wild berries which grew in profusion at

our feet.

“What shall we do, Jack?” said he, with a rueful look; “perhaps

they may be poisonous!”

“No fear,” replied Jack, confidently; “I have observed that a few

of them are not unlike some of the berries that grow wild on our

own native hills. Besides, I saw one or two strange birds eating

them just a few minutes ago, and what won’t kill the birds won’t

kill us. But look up there, Peterkin,” continued Jack, pointing to

the branched head of a cocoa-nut palm. “There are nuts for us in

all stages.”

“So there are!” cried Peterkin, who being of a very unobservant

nature had been too much taken up with other things to notice

anything so high above his head as the fruit of a palm tree. But,

whatever faults my young comrade had, he could not be blamed for

want of activity or animal spirits. Indeed, the nuts had scarcely

been pointed out to him when he bounded up the tall stem of the

tree like a squirrel, and, in a few minutes, returned with three

nuts, each as large as a man’s fist.

“You had better keep them till we return,” raid Jack. “Let us

finish our work before eating.”

“So be it, captain, go ahead,” cried Peterkin, thrusting the nuts

into his trousers pocket. “In fact I don’t want to eat just now,

but I would give a good deal for a drink. Oh that I could find a

spring! but I don’t see the smallest sign of one hereabouts. I

say, Jack, how does it happen that you seem to be up to everything?

You have told us the names of half-a-dozen trees already, and yet

you say that you were never in the South Seas before.”

“I’m not up to EVERYTHING, Peterkin, as you’ll find out ere long,”

replied Jack, with a smile; “but I have been a great reader of

books of travel and adventure all my life, and that has put me up

to a good many things that you are, perhaps, not acquainted with.”

“Oh, Jack, that’s all humbug. If you begin to lay everything to

the credit of books, I’ll quite lose my opinion of you,” cried

Peterkin, with a look of contempt. “I’ve seen a lot o’ fellows

that were ALWAYS poring over books, and when they came to try to DO

anything, they were no better than baboons!”

“You are quite right,” retorted Jack; “and I have seen a lot of

fellows who never looked into books at all, who knew nothing about

anything except the things they had actually seen, and very little

they knew even about these. Indeed, some were so ignorant that

they did not know that cocoa-nuts grew on cocoa-nut trees!”

I could not refrain from laughing at this rebuke, for there was

much truth in it, as to Peterkin’s ignorance.

“Humph! maybe you’re right,” answered Peterkin; “but I would not

give TUPPENCE for a man of books, if he had nothing else in him.”

“Neither would I,” said Jack; “but that’s no reason why you should

run books down, or think less of me for having read them. Suppose,

now, Peterkin, that you wanted to build a ship, and I were to give

you a long and particular account of the way to do it, would not

that be very useful?”

“No doubt of it,” said Peterkin, laughing.

“And suppose I were to write the account in a letter instead of

telling you in words, would that be less useful?”

“Well - no, perhaps not.”

“Well, suppose I were to print it, and send it to you in the form

of a book, would it not be as good and useful as ever?”

“Oh, bother! Jack, you’re a philosopher, and that’s worse than

anything!” cried Peterkin, with a look of pretended horror.

“Very well, Peterkin, we shall see,” returned Jack, halting under

the shade of a cocoa-nut tree. “You said you were thirsty just a

minute ago; now, jump up that tree and bring down a nut, - not a

ripe one, bring a green, unripe one.”

Peterkin looked surprised, but, seeing that Jack was in earnest, he

obeyed.

“Now, cut a hole in it with your penknife, and clap it to your

mouth, old fellow,” said Jack.

Peterkin did as he was directed, and we both burst into

uncontrollable laughter at the changes that instantly passed over

his expressive countenance. No sooner had he put the nut to his

mouth, and thrown back his head in order to catch what came out of

it, than his eyes opened to twice their ordinary size with

astonishment, while his throat moved vigorously in the act of

swallowing. Then a smile and look of intense delight overspread

his face, except, indeed, the mouth, which, being firmly fixed to

the hole in the nut, could not take part in the expression; but he

endeavoured to make up for this by winking at us excessively with

his right eye. At length he stopped, and, drawing a long breath,

exclaimed -

“Nectar! perfect nectar! I say, Jack, you’re a Briton - the best

fellow I ever met in my life. Only taste that!” said he, turning

to me and holding the nut to my mouth. I immediately drank, and

certainly I was much surprised at the delightful liquid that flowed

copiously down my throat. It was extremely cool, and had a sweet

taste, mingled with acid; in fact, it was the likest thing to

lemonade I ever tasted, and was most grateful and refreshing. I

handed the nut to Jack, who, after tasting it, said, “Now,

Peterkin, you unbeliever, I never saw or tasted a cocoa nut in my

life before, except those sold in shops at home; but I once read

that the green nuts contain that stuff, and you see it is true!”

“And pray,” asked Peterkin, “what sort of ‘stuff’ does the ripe nut

contain?”

“A hollow kernel,” answered Jack, “with a liquid like milk in it;

but it does not satisfy thirst so well as hunger. It is very

wholesome food I believe.”

“Meat and drink on the same tree!” cried Peterkin; “washing in the

sea, lodging on the ground, - and all for nothing! My dear boys,

we’re set up for life; it must be the ancient Paradise, - hurrah!”

and Peterkin tossed his straw hat in the air, and ran along the

beach hallooing like a madman with delight.

We afterwards found, however, that these lovely islands were very

unlike Paradise in many things. But more of this in its proper

place.

We had now come to the point of rocks on which the ship had struck,

but did not find a single article, although we searched carefully

among the coral rocks, which at this place jutted out so far as

nearly to join the reef that encircled the island. Just as we were

about to return, however, we saw something black floating in a

little cove that had escaped our observation. Running forward, we

drew it from the water, and found it to be a long thick leather

boot, such as fishermen at home wear; and a few paces farther on we

picked up its fellow. We at once recognised these as having

belonged to our captain, for he had worn them during the whole of

the storm, in order to guard his legs from the waves and spray that

constantly washed over our decks. My first thought on seeing them

was that our dear captain had been drowned; but Jack soon put my

mind more at rest on that point, by saying that if the captain had

been drowned with the boots on, he would certainly have been washed

ashore along with them, and that he had no doubt whatever he had

kicked them off while in the sea, that he might swim more easily.

Peterkin immediately put them on, but they were so large that, as

Jack said, they would have done for boots, trousers, and vest too.

I also tried them, but, although I was long enough in the legs for

them, they were much too large in the feet for me; so we handed

them to Jack, who was anxious to make me keep them, but as they

fitted his large limbs and feet as if they had been made for him, I

would not hear of it, so he consented at last to use them. I may

remark, however, that Jack did not use them often, as they were

extremely heavy.

It was beginning to grow dark when we returned to our encampment;

so we put off our visit to the top of a hill till next day, and

employed the light that yet remained to us in cutting down a

quantity of boughs and the broad leaves of a tree, of which none of

us knew the name. With these we erected a sort of rustic bower, in

which we meant to pass the night. There was no absolute necessity

for this, because the air of our island was so genial and balmy

that we could have slept quite well without any shelter; but we

were so little used to sleeping in the open air, that we did not

quite relish the idea of lying down without any covering over us:

besides, our bower would shelter us from the night dews or rain, if

any should happen to fall. Having strewed the floor with leaves

and dry grass, we bethought ourselves of supper.

But it now occurred to us, for the first time, that we had no means

of making a fire.

“Now, there’s a fix! - what shall we do?” said Peterkin, while we

both turned our eyes to Jack, to whom we always looked in our

difficulties. Jack seemed not a little perplexed.

“There are flints enough, no doubt, on the beach,” said he, “but

they are of no use at all without a steel. However, we must try.”

So saying, he went to the beach, and soon returned with two flints.

On one of these he placed the tinder, and endeavoured to ignite it;

but it was with great difficulty that a very small spark was struck

out of the flints, and the tinder, being a bad, hard piece, would

not catch. He then tried the bit of hoop iron, which would not

strike fire at all; and after that the back of the axe, with no

better success. During all these trials Peterkin sat with his

hands in his pockets, gazing with a most melancholy visage at our

comrade, his face growing longer and more miserable at each

successive failure.

“Oh dear!” he sighed, “I would not care a button for the cooking of

our victuals, - perhaps they don’t need it, - but it’s so dismal to

eat one’s supper in the dark, and we have had such a capital day,

that it’s a pity to finish off in this glum style. Oh, I have it!”

he cried, starting up; “the spy-glass, - the big glass at the end

is a burning-glass!”

“You forget that we have no sun,” said I.

Peterkin was silent. In his sudden recollection of the telescope

he had quite overlooked the absence of the sun.

“Ah, boys, I’ve got it now!” exclaimed Jack, rising and cutting a

branch from a neighbouring bush, which be stripped of its leaves.

“I recollect seeing this done once at home. Hand me the bit of

whip-cord.” With the cord and branch Jack soon formed a bow. Then

he cut a piece, about three inches long, off the end of a dead

branch, which he pointed at the two ends. Round this he passed the

cord of the bow, and placed one end against his chest, which was

protected from its point by a chip of wood; the other point he

placed against the bit of tinder, and then began to saw vigorously

with the bow, just as a blacksmith does with his drill while boring

a hole in a piece of iron. In a few seconds the tinder began to

smoke; in less than a minute it caught fire; and in less than a

quarter of an hour we were drinking our lemonade and eating cocoa

nuts round a fire that would have roasted an entire sheep, while

the smoke, flames, and sparks, flew up among the broad leaves of

the overhanging palm trees, and cast a warm glow upon our leafy

bower.

That night the starry sky looked down through the gently rustling

trees upon our slumbers, and the distant roaring of the surf upon

the coral reef was our lullaby.

CHAPTER V.

Morning, and cogitations connected therewith - We luxuriate in the

sea, try our diving powers, and make enchanting excursions among

the coral groves at the bottom of the ocean - The wonders of the

deep enlarged upon.

WHAT a joyful thing it is to awaken, on a fresh glorious morning,

and find the rising sun staring into your face with dazzling

brilliancy! - to see the birds twittering in the bushes, and to

hear the murmuring of a rill, or the soft hissing ripples as they

fall upon the sea-shore! At any time and in any place such sights

and sounds are most charming, but more especially are they so when

one awakens to them, for the fist time, in a novel and romantic

situation, with the soft sweet air of a tropical climate mingling

with the fresh smell of the sea, and stirring the strange leaves

that flutter overhead and around one, or ruffling the plumage of

the stranger birds that fly inquiringly around, as if to demand

what business we have to intrude uninvited on their domains. When

I awoke on the morning after the shipwreck, I found myself in this

most delightful condition; and, as I lay on my back upon my bed of

leaves, gazing up through the branches of the cocoa-nut trees into

the clear blue sky, and watched the few fleecy clouds that passed

slowly across it, my heart expanded more and more with an exulting

gladness, the like of which I had never felt before. While I

meditated, my thoughts again turned to the great and kind Creator

of this beautiful world, as they had done on the previous day, when

I first beheld the sea and the coral reef, with the mighty waves

dashing over it into the calm waters of the lagoon.

While thus meditating, I naturally bethought me of my Bible, for I

had faithfully kept the promise, which I gave at parting to my

beloved mother, that I would read it every morning; and it was with

a feeling of dismay that I remembered I had left it in the ship. I

was much troubled about this. However, I consoled myself with

reflecting that I could keep the second part of my promise to her,

namely, that I should never omit to say my prayers. So I rose

quietly, lest I should disturb my companions, who were still

asleep, and stepped aside into the bushes for this purpose.

On my return I found them still slumbering, so I again lay down to

think over our situation. Just at that moment I was attracted by

the sight of a very small parrot, which Jack afterwards told me was

called a paroquet. It was seated on a twig that overhung

Peterkin’s head, and I was speedily lost in admiration of its

bright green plumage, which was mingled with other gay colours.

While I looked I observed that the bird turned its head slowly from

side to side and looked downwards, fist with the one eye, and then

with the other. On glancing downwards I observed that Peterkin’s

mouth was wide open, and that this remarkable bird was looking into

it. Peterkin used to say that I had not an atom of fun in my

composition, and that I never could understand a joke. In regard

to the latter, perhaps he was right; yet I think that, when they

were explained to me, I understood jokes as well as most people:

but in regard to the former he must certainly have been wrong, for

this bird seemed to me to be extremely funny; and I could not help

thinking that, if it should happen to faint, or slip its foot, and

fall off the twig into Peterkin’s mouth, he would perhaps think it

funny too! Suddenly the paroquet bent down its head and uttered a

loud scream in his face. This awoke him, and, with a cry of

surprise, he started up, while the foolish bird flew precipitately

away.

“Oh you monster!” cried Peterkin, shaking his fist at the bird.

Then he yawned and rubbed his eyes, and asked what o’clock it was.

I smiled at this question, and answered that, as our watches were

at the bottom of the sea, I could not tell, but it was a little

past sunrise.

Peterkin now began to remember where we were. As he looked up into

the bright sky, and snuffed the scented air, his eyes glistened

with delight, and he uttered a faint “hurrah!” and yawned again.

Then he gazed slowly round, till, observing the calm sea through an

opening in the bushes, he started suddenly up as if he had received

an electric shock, uttered a vehement shout, flung off his

garments, and, rushing over the white sands, plunged into the

water. The cry awoke Jack, who rose on his elbow with a look of

grave surprise; but this was followed by a quiet smile of

intelligence on seeing Peterkin in the water. With an energy that

he only gave way to in moments of excitement, Jack bounded to his

feet, threw off his clothes, shook back his hair, and with a lion-like spring, dashed over the sands and plunged into the sea with

such force as quite to envelop Peterkin in a shower of spray. Jack

was a remarkably good swimmer and diver, so that after his plunge

we saw no sign of him for nearly a minute; after which he suddenly

emerged, with a cry of joy, a good many yards out from the shore.

My spirits were so much raised by seeing all this that I, too,

hastily threw off my garments and endeavoured to imitate Jack’s

vigorous bound; but I was so awkward that my foot caught on a

stump, and I fell to the ground; then I slipped on a stone while

running over the mud, and nearly fell again, much to the amusement

of Peterkin, who laughed heartily, and called me a “slow coach,”

while Jack cried out, “Come along, Ralph, and I’ll help you.”

However, when I got into the water I managed very well, for I was

really a good swimmer, and diver too. I could not, indeed, equal

Jack, who was superior to any Englishman I ever saw, but I

infinitely surpassed Peterkin, who could only swim a little, and

could not dive at all.

While Peterkin enjoyed himself in the shallow water and in running

along the beach, Jack and I swam out into the deep water, and

occasionally dived for stones. I shall never forget my surprise

and delight on first beholding the bottom of the sea. As I have

before stated, the water within the reef was as calm as a pond;

and, as there was no wind, it was quite clear, from the surface to

the bottom, so that we could see down easily even at a depth of

twenty or thirty yards. When Jack and I dived in shallower water,

we expected to have found sand and stones, instead of which we

found ourselves in what appeared really to be an enchanted garden.

The whole of the bottom of the lagoon, as we called the calm water

within the reef, was covered with coral of every shape, size, and

hue. Some portions were formed like large mushrooms; others

appeared like the brain of a man, having stalks or necks attached

to them; but the most common kind was a species of branching coral,

and some portions were of a lovely pale pink colour, others pure

white. Among this there grew large quantities of sea-weed of the

richest hues imaginable, and of the most graceful forms; while

innumerable fishes - blue, red, yellow, green, and striped -

sported in and out amongst the flower-beds of this submarine

garden, and did not appear to be at all afraid of our approaching

them.

On darting to the surface for breath, after our first dive, Jack

and I rose close to each other.

“Did you ever in your life, Ralph, see anything so lovely?” said

Jack, as he flung the spray from his hair.

“Never,” I replied. “It appears to me like fairy realms. I can

scarcely believe that we are not dreaming.”

“Dreaming!” cried Jack, “do you know, Ralph, I’m half tempted to

think that we really are dreaming. But if so, I am resolved to

make the most of it, and dream another dive; so here goes, - down

again, my boy!”

We took the second dive together, and kept beside each other while

under water; and I was greatly surprised to find that we could keep

down much longer than I ever recollect having done in our own seas

at home. I believe that this was owing to the heat of the water,

which was so warm that we afterwards found we could remain in it

for two and three hours at a time without feeling any unpleasant

effects such as we used to experience in the sea at home. When

Jack reached the bottom, he grasped the coral stems, and crept

along on his hands and knees, peeping under the sea-weed and among

the rocks. I observed him also pick up one or two large oysters,

and retain them in his grasp, as if he meant to take them up with

him, so I also gathered a few. Suddenly he made a grasp at a fish

with blue and yellow stripes on its back, and actually touched its

tail, but did not catch it. At this he turned towards me and

attempted to smile; but no sooner had he done so than he sprang

like an arrow to the surface, where, on following him, I found him

gasping and coughing, and spitting water from his mouth. In a few

minutes he recovered, and we both turned to swim ashore.

“I declare, Ralph,” said he, “that I actually tried to laugh under

water.”

“So I saw,” I replied; “and I observed that you very nearly caught

that fish by the tail. It would have done capitally for breakfast

if you had.”

“Breakfast enough here,” said he, holding up the oysters, as we

landed and ran up the beach. “Hallo! Peterkin, here you are, boy.

Split open these fellows while Ralph and I put on our clothes.

They’ll agree with the cocoa nuts excellently, I have no doubt.”

Peterkin, who was already dressed, took the oysters, and opened

them with the edge of our axe, exclaiming, “Now, that IS capital.

There’s nothing I’m so fond of.”

“Ah! that’s lucky,” remarked Jack. “I’ll be able to keep you in

good order now, Master Peterkin. You know you can’t dive any

better than a cat. So, sir, whenever you behave ill, you shall

have no oysters for breakfast.”

“I’m very glad that our prospect of breakfast is so good,” said I,

“for I’m very hungry.”

“Here, then, stop your mouth with that, Ralph,” said Peterkin,

holding a large oyster to my lips. I opened my mouth and swallowed

it in silence, and really it was remarkably good.

We now set ourselves earnestly about our preparations for spending

the day. We had no difficulty with the fire this morning, as our

burning-glass was an admirable one; and while we roasted a few

oysters and ate our cocoa nuts, we held a long, animated

conversation about our plans for the future. What those plans

were, and how we carried them into effect, the reader shall see

hereafter.

CHAPTER VI.

An excursion into the interior, in which we make many valuable and

interesting discoveries - We get a dreadful fright - The bread-fruit tree - Wonderful peculiarity of some of the fruit trees -

Signs of former inhabitants.

OUR first care, after breakfast, was to place the few articles we

possessed in the crevice of a rock at the farther end of a small

cave which we discovered near our encampment. This cave, we hoped,

might be useful to us afterwards as a store-house. Then we cut two

large clubs off a species of very hard tree which grew near at

hand. One of these was given to Peterkin, the other to me, and

Jack armed himself with the axe. We took these precautions because

we purposed to make an excursion to the top of the mountains of the

interior, in order to obtain a better view of our island. Of

course we knew not what dangers might befall us by the way, so

thought it best to be prepared.

Having completed our arrangements and carefully extinguished our

fire, we sallied forth and walked a short distance along the sea-beach, till we came to the entrance of a valley, through which

flowed the rivulet before mentioned. Here we turned our backs on

the sea and struck into the interior.

The prospect that burst upon our view on entering the valley was

truly splendid. On either side of us there was a gentle rise in

the land, which thus formed two ridges about a mile apart on each

side of the valley. These ridges, - which, as well as the low

grounds between them, were covered with trees and shrubs of the

most luxuriant kind - continued to recede inland for about two

miles, when they joined the foot of a small mountain. This hill

rose rather abruptly from the head of the valley, and was likewise

entirely covered even to the top with trees, except on one

particular spot near the left shoulder, where was a bare and rocky

place of a broken and savage character. Beyond this hill we could

not see, and we therefore directed our course up the banks of the

rivulet towards the foot of it, intending to climb to the top,

should that be possible, as, indeed, we had no doubt it was.

Jack, being the wisest and boldest among us, took the lead,

carrying the axe on his shoulder. Peterkin, with his enormous

club, came second, as he said he should like to be in a position to

defend me if any danger should threaten. I brought up the rear,

but, having been more taken up with the wonderful and curious

things I saw at starting than with thoughts of possible danger, I

had very foolishly left my club behind me. Although, as I have

said the trees and bushes were very luxuriant, they were not so

thickly crowded together as to hinder our progress among them. We

were able to wind in and out, and to follow the banks of the stream

quite easily, although, it is true, the height and thickness of the

foliage prevented us from seeing far ahead. But sometimes a

jutting-out rock on the hill sides afforded us a position whence we

could enjoy the romantic view and mark our progress towards the

foot of the hill. I wag particularly struck, during the walk, with

the richness of the undergrowth in most places, and recognised many

berries and plants that resembled those of my native land,

especially a tall, elegantly-formed fern, which emitted an

agreeable perfume. There were several kinds of flowers, too, but I

did not see so many of these as I should have expected in such a

climate. We also saw a great variety of small birds of bright

plumage, and many paroquets similar to the one that awoke Peterkin

so rudely in the morning.

Thus we advanced to the foot of the hill without encountering

anything to alarm us, except, indeed, once, when we were passing

close under a part of the hill which was hidden from our view by

the broad leaves of the banana trees, which grew in great

luxuriance in that part. Jack was just preparing to force his way

through this thicket, when we were startled and arrested by a

strange pattering or rumbling sound, which appeared to us quite

different from any of the sounds we had heard during the previous

part of our walk.

“Hallo!” cried Peterkin, stopping short and grasping his club with

both hands, “what’s that?”

Neither of us replied; but Jack seized his axe in his right hand,

while with the other he pushed aside the broad leaves and

endeavoured to peer amongst them.

“I can see nothing,” he said, after a short pause.

“I think it - “

Again the rumbling sound came, louder than before, and we all

sprang back and stood on the defensive. For myself, having

forgotten my club, and not having taken the precaution to cut

another, I buttoned my jacket, doubled my fists, and threw myself

into a boxing attitude. I must say, however, that I felt somewhat

uneasy; and my companions afterwards confessed that their thoughts

at this moment had been instantly filled with all they had ever

heard or read of wild beasts and savages, torturings at the stake,

roastings alive, and such like horrible things. Suddenly the

pattering noise increased with tenfold violence. It was followed

by a fearful crash among the bushes, which was rapidly repeated, as

if some gigantic animal were bounding towards us. In another

moment an enormous rock came crashing through the shrubbery,

followed by a cloud of dust and small stones, flew close past the

spot where we stood, carrying bushes and young trees along with it.

“Pooh! is that all?” exclaimed Peterkin, wiping the perspiration

off his forehead. “Why, I thought it was all the wild men and

beasts in the South Sea Islands galloping on in one grand charge to

sweep us off the face of the earth, instead of a mere stone

tumbling down the mountain side.”

“Nevertheless,” remarked Jack, “if that same stone had hit any of

us, it would have rendered the charge you speak of quite

unnecessary, Peterkin.”

This was true, and I felt very thankful for our escape. On

examining the spot more narrowly, we found that it lay close to the

foot of a very rugged precipice, from which stones of various sizes

were always tumbling at intervals. Indeed, the numerous fragments

lying scattered all around might have suggested the cause of the

sound, had we not been too suddenly alarmed to think of anything.

We now resumed our journey, resolving that, in our future

excursions into the interior, we would be careful to avoid this

dangerous precipice.

Soon afterwards we arrived at the foot of the hill and prepared to

ascend it. Here Jack made a discovery which caused us all very

great joy. This was a tree of a remarkably beautiful appearance,

which Jack confidently declared to be the celebrated bread-fruit

tree.

“Is it celebrated?” inquired Peterkin, with a look of great

simplicity.

“It is,” replied Jack

“That’s odd, now,” rejoined Peterkin; “never heard of it before.”

“Then it’s not so celebrated as I thought it was,” returned Jack,

quietly squeezing Peterkin’s hat over his eyes; “but listen, you

ignorant boobie! and hear of it now.”

Peterkin re-adjusted his hat, and was soon listening with as much

interest as myself, while Jack told us that this tree is one of the

most valuable in the islands of the south; that it bears two,

sometimes three, crops of fruit in the year; that the fruit is very

like wheaten bread in appearance, and that it constitutes the

principal food of many of the islanders.

“So,” said Peterkin, “we seem to have everything ready prepared to

our hands in this wonderful island, - lemonade ready bottled in

nuts, and loaf-bread growing on the trees!”

Peterkin, as usual, was jesting; nevertheless, it is a curious fact

that he spoke almost the literal truth. “Moreover,” continued

Jack, “the bread-fruit tree affords a capital gum, which serves the

natives for pitching their canoes; the bark of the young branches

is made by them into cloth; and of the wood, which is durable and

of a good colour, they build their houses. So you see, lads, that

we have no lack of material here to make us comfortable, if we are

only clever enough to use it.”

“But are you sure that that’s it?” asked Peterkin.

“Quite sure,” replied Jack; “for I was particularly interested in

the account I once read of it, and I remember the description well.

I am sorry, however, that I have forgotten the descriptions of many

other trees which I am sure we have seen to-day, if we could but

recognise them. So you see, Peterkin, I’m not up to everything

yet.”

“Never mind, Jack,” said Peterkin, with a grave, patronizing

expression of countenance, patting his tall companion on the

shoulder, - “never mind, Jack; you know a good deal for your age.

You’re a clever boy, sir, - a promising young man; and if you only

go on as you have begun, sir, you will - “

The end of this speech was suddenly cut short by Jack tripping up

Peterkin’s heels and tumbling him into a mass of thick shrubs,

where, finding himself comfortable, he lay still basking in the

sunshine, while Jack and I examined the bread-tree.

We were much struck with the deep, rich green colour of its broad

leaves, which were twelve or eighteen inches long, deeply indented,

and of a glossy smoothness, like the laurel. The fruit, with which

it was loaded, was nearly round, and appeared to be about six

inches in diameter, with a rough rind, marked with lozenge-shaped

divisions. It was of various colours, from light pea-green to

brown and rich yellow. Jack said that the yellow was the ripe

fruit. We afterwards found that most of the fruit-trees on the

island were evergreens, and that we might, when we wished, pluck

the blossom and the ripe fruit from the same tree. Such a

wonderful difference from the trees of our own country surprised us

not a little. The bark of the tree was rough and light-coloured;

the trunk was about two feet in diameter, and it appeared to be

twenty feet high, being quite destitute of branches up to that

height, where it branched off into a beautiful and umbrageous head.

We noticed that the fruit hung in clusters of twos and threes on

the branches; but as we were anxious to get to the top of the hill,

we refrained from attempting to pluck any at that time.

Our hearts were now very much cheered by our good fortune, and it

was with light and active steps that we clambered up the steep

sides of the hill. On reaching the summit, a new, and if possible

a grander, prospect met our gaze. We found that this was not the

highest part of the island, but that another hill lay beyond, with

a wide valley between it and the one on which we stood. This

valley, like the first, was also full of rich trees, some dark and

some light green, some heavy and thick in foliage, and others

light, feathery, and graceful, while the beautiful blossoms on many

of them threw a sort of rainbow tint over all, and gave to the

valley the appearance of a garden of flowers. Among these we

recognised many of the bread-fruit trees, laden with yellow fruit,

and also a great many cocoa-nut palms. After gazing our fill we

pushed down the hill side, crossed the valley, and soon began to

ascend the second mountain. It was clothed with trees nearly to

the top, but the summit was bare, and in some places broken.

While on our way up we came to an object which filled us with much

interest. This was the stump of a tree that had evidently been cut

down with an axe! So, then, we were not the first who had viewed

this beautiful isle. The hand of man had been at work there before

us. It now began to recur to us again that perhaps the island was

inhabited, although we had not seen any traces of man until now;

but a second glance at the stump convinced us that we had not more

reason to think so now than formerly; for the surface of the wood

was quite decayed, and partly covered with fungus and green matter,

so that it must have been cut many years ago.

“Perhaps,” said Peterkin, “some ship or other has touched here long

ago for wood, and only taken one tree.”

We did not think this likely, however, because, in such

circumstances, the crew of a ship would cut wood of small size, and

near the shore, whereas this was a large tree and stood near the

top of the mountain. In fact it was the highest large tree on the

mountain, all above it being wood of very recent growth.

“I can’t understand it,” said Jack, scratching the surface of the

stump with his axe. “I can only suppose that the savages have been

here and cut it for some purpose known only to themselves. But,

hallo! what have we here?”

As he spoke, Jack began carefully to scrape away the moss and

fungus from the stump, and soon laid bare three distinct traces of

marks, as if some inscription or initials had been cut thereon.

But although the traces were distinct, beyond all doubt, the exact

form of the letters could not be made out. Jack thought they

looked like J. S. but we could not be certain. They had apparently

been carelessly cut, and long exposure to the weather had so broken

them up that we could not make out what they were. We were

exceedingly perplexed at this discovery, and stayed a long time at

the place conjecturing what these marks could have been, but

without avail; so, as the day was advancing, we left it and quickly

reached the top of the mountain.

We found this to be the highest point of the island, and from it we

saw our kingdom lying, as it were, like a map around us. As I have

always thought it impossible to get a thing properly into one’s

understanding without comprehending it, I shall beg the reader’s

patience for a little while I describe our island, thus, shortly:-

It consisted of two mountains; the one we guessed at 500 feet; the

other, on which we stood, at 1000. Between these lay a rich,

beautiful valley, as already said. This valley crossed the island

from one end to the other, being high in the middle and sloping on

each side towards the sea. The large mountain sloped, on the side

farthest from where we had been wrecked, gradually towards the sea;

but although, when viewed at a glance, it had thus a regular

sloping appearance, a more careful observation showed that it was

broken up into a multitude of very small vales, or rather dells and

glens, intermingled with little rugged spots and small but abrupt

precipices here and there, with rivulets tumbling over their edges

and wandering down the slopes in little white streams, sometimes

glistening among the broad leaves of the bread-fruit and cocoa-nut

trees, or hid altogether beneath the rich underwood. At the base

of this mountain lay a narrow bright green plain or meadow, which

terminated abruptly at the shore. On the other side of the island,

whence we had come, stood the smaller hill, at the foot of which

diverged three valleys; one being that which we had ascended, with

a smaller vale on each side of it, and separated from it by the two

ridges before mentioned. In these smaller valleys there were no

streams, but they were clothed with the same luxuriant vegetation.

The diameter of the island seemed to be about ten miles, and, as it

was almost circular in form, its circumference must have been

thirty miles; - perhaps a little more, if allowance be made for the

numerous bays and indentations of the shore. The entire island was

belted by a beach of pure white sand, on which laved the gentle

ripples of the lagoon. We now also observed that the coral reef

completely encircled the island; but it varied its distance from it

here and there, in some places being a mile from the beach, in

others, a few hundred yards, but the average distance was half a

mile. The reef lay very low, and the spray of the surf broke quite

over it in many places. This surf never ceased its roar, for,

however calm the weather might be, there is always a gentle swaying

motion in the great Pacific, which, although scarce noticeable out

at sea, reaches the shore at last in a huge billow. The water

within the lagoon, as before said, was perfectly still. There were

three narrow openings in the reef; one opposite each end of the

valley which I have described as crossing the island; the other

opposite our own valley, which we afterwards named the Valley of

the Wreck. At each of these openings the reef rose into two small

green islets, covered with bushes and having one or two cocoa-nut

palms on each. These islets were very singular, and appeared as if

planted expressly for the purpose of marking the channel into the

lagoon. Our captain was making for one of these openings the day

we were wrecked, and would have reached it too, I doubt not, had

not the rudder been torn away. Within the lagoon were several

pretty, low coral islands, just opposite our encampment; and,

immediately beyond these, out at sea, lay about a dozen other

islands, at various distances, from half a mile to ten miles; all

of them, as far as we could discern, smaller than ours and

apparently uninhabited. They seemed to be low coral islands,

raised but little above the sea, yet covered with cocoa-nut trees.

All this we noted, and a great deal more, while we sat on the top

of the mountain. After we had satisfied ourselves we prepared to

return; but here again we discovered traces of the presence of man.

These were a pole or staff and one or two pieces of wood which had

been squared with an axe. All of these were, however, very much

decayed, and they had evidently not been touched for many years.

Full of these discoveries we returned to our encampment. On the

way we fell in with the traces of some four-footed animal, but

whether old or of recent date none of us were able to guess. This

also tended to raise our hopes of obtaining some animal food on the

island, so we reached home in good spirits, quite prepared for

supper, and highly satisfied with our excursion.

After much discussion, in which Peterkin took the lead, we came to

the conclusion that the island was uninhabited, and went to bed.

CHAPTER VII.

Jack’s ingenuity - We get into difficulties about fishing, and get

out of them by a method which gives us a cold bath - Horrible

encounter with a shark.

FOR several days after the excursion related in the last chapter we

did not wander far from our encampment, but gave ourselves up to

forming plans for the future and making our present abode

comfortable.

There were various causes that induced this state of comparative

inaction. In the first place, although everything around us was so

delightful, and we could without difficulty obtain all that we

required for our bodily comfort, we did not quite like the idea of

settling down here for the rest of our lives, far away from our

friends and our native land. To set energetically about

preparations for a permanent residence seemed so like making up our

minds to saying adieu to home and friends for ever, that we tacitly

shrank from it and put off our preparations, for one reason and

another, as long as we could. Then there was a little uncertainty

still as to there being natives on the island, and we entertained a

kind of faint hope that a ship might come and take us off. But as

day after day passed, and neither savages nor ships appeared, we

gave up all hope of an early deliverance and set diligently to work

at our homestead.

During this time, however, we had not been altogether idle. We

made several experiments in cooking the cocoa-nut, most of which

did not improve it. Then we removed our goods, and took up our

abode in the cave, but found the change so bad that we returned

gladly to the bower. Besides this we bathed very frequently, and

talked a great deal; at least Jack and Peterkin did, - I listened.

Among other useful things, Jack, who was ever the most active and

diligent, converted about three inches of the hoop-iron into an

excellent knife. First he beat it quite flat with the axe. Then

he made a rude handle, and tied the hoop-iron to it with our piece

of whip-cord, and ground it to an edge on a piece of sandstone.

When it was finished he used it to shape a better handle, to which

he fixed it with a strip of his cotton handkerchief; - in which

operation he had, as Peterkin pointed out, torn off one of Lord

Nelson’s noses. However, the whip-cord, thus set free, was used by

Peterkin as a fishing line. He merely tied a piece of oyster to

the end of it. This the fish were allowed to swallow, and then

they were pulled quickly ashore. But as the line was very short

and we had no boat, the fish we caught were exceedingly small.

One day Peterkin came up from the beach, where he had been angling,

and said in a very cross tone, “I’ll tell you what, Jack, I’m not

going to be humbugged with catching such contemptible things any

longer. I want you to swim out with me on your back, and let me

fish in deep water!”

“Dear me, Peterkin,” replied Jack, “I had no idea you were taking

the thing so much to heart, else I would have got you out of that

difficulty long ago. Let me see,” - and Jack looked down at a

piece of timber on which he had been labouring, with a peculiar

gaze of abstraction, which he always assumed when trying to invent

or discover anything.

“What say you to building a boat?” he inquired, looking up hastily.

“Take far too long,” was the reply; “can’t be bothered waiting. I

want to begin at once!”

Again Jack considered. “I have it!” he cried. “We’ll fell a large

tree and launch the trunk of it in the water, so that when you want

to fish you’ve nothing to do but to swim out to it.”

“Would not a small raft do better?” said I.

“Much better; but we have no ropes to bind it together with.

Perhaps we may find something hereafter that will do as well, but,

in the meantime, let us try the tree.”

This was agreed on, so we started off to a spot not far distant,

where we knew of a tree that would suit us, which grew near the

water’s edge. As soon as we reached it Jack threw off his coat,

and, wielding the axe with his sturdy arms, hacked and hewed at it

for a quarter of an hour without stopping. Then he paused, and,

while he sat down to rest, I continued the work. Then Peterkin

made a vigorous attack on it, so that when Jack renewed his

powerful blows, a few minutes cutting brought it down with a

terrible crash.

“Hurrah! now for it,” cried Jack; “let us off with its head.”

So saying he began to cut through the stem again, at about six

yards from the thick end. This done, he cut three strong, short

poles or levers from the stout branches, with which to roll the log

down the beach into the sea; for, as it was nearly two feet thick

at the large end, we could not move it without such helps. With

the levers, however, we rolled it slowly into the sea.

Having been thus successful in launching our vessel, we next shaped

the levers into rude oars or paddles, and then attempted to embark.

This was easy enough to do; but, after seating ourselves astride

the log, it was with the utmost difficulty we kept it from rolling

round and plunging us into the water. Not that we minded that

much; but we preferred, if possible, to fish in dry clothes. To be

sure, our trousers were necessarily wet, as our legs were dangling

in the water on each side of the log; but, as they could be easily

dried, we did not care. After half an hour’s practice, we became

expert enough to keep our balance pretty steadily. Then Peterkin

laid down his paddle, and having baited his line with a whole

oyster, dropt it into deep water.

“Now, then, Jack,” said he, “be cautious; steer clear o’ that sea-weed. There; that’s it; gently, now, gently. I see a fellow at

least a foot long down there, coming to - ha! that’s it! Oh!

bother, he’s off.”

“Did he bite?” said Jack, urging the log onwards a little with his

paddle.

“Bite? ay! He took it into his mouth, but the moment I began to

haul he opened his jaws and let it out again.”

“Let him swallow it next time,” said Jack, laughing at the

melancholy expression of Peterkin’s visage.

“There he’s again,” cried Peterkin, his eyes flashing with

excitement. “Look out! Now then! No! Yes! No! Why, the brute

WON’T swallow it!”

“Try to haul him up by the mouth, then,” cried Jack. “Do it

gently.”

A heavy sigh and a look of blank despair showed that poor Peterkin

had tried and failed again.

“Never mind, lad,” said Jack, in a voice of sympathy; “we’ll move

on, and offer it to some other fish.” So saying, Jack plied his

paddle; but scarcely had he moved from the spot, when a fish with

an enormous head and a little body darted from under a rock and

swallowed the bait at once.

“Got him this time, - that’s a fact!” cried Peterkin, hauling in

the line. “He’s swallowed the bait right down to his tail, I

declare. Oh what a thumper!”

As the fish came struggling to the surface, we leaned forward to

see it, and overbalanced the log. Peterkin threw his arms round

the fish’s neck; and, in another instant, we were all floundering

in the water!

A shout of laughter burst from us as we rose to the surface like

three drowned rats, and seized hold of the log. We soon recovered

our position, and sat more warily, while Peterkin secured the fish,

which had well-nigh escaped in the midst of our struggles. It was

little worth having, however; but, as Peterkin remarked, it was

better than the smouts he had been catching for the last two or

three days; so we laid it on the log before us, and having re-baited the line, dropt it in again for another.

Now, while we were thus intent upon our sport, our attention was

suddenly attracted by a ripple on the sea, just a few yards away

from us. Peterkin shouted to us to paddle in that direction, as he

thought it was a big fish, and we might have a chance of catching

it. But Jack, instead of complying, said, in a deep, earnest tone

of voice, which I never before heard him use, -

“Haul up your line, Peterkin; seize your paddle; quick, - it’s a

shark!”

The horror with which we heard this may well be imagined, for it

must be remembered that our legs were hanging down in the water,

and we could not venture to pull them up without upsetting the log.

Peterkin instantly hauled up the line; and, grasping his paddle,

exerted himself to the utmost, while we also did our best to make

for shore. But we were a good way off, and the log being, as I

have before said, very heavy, moved but slowly through the water.

We now saw the shark quite distinctly swimming round and round us,

its sharp fin every now and then protruding above the water. From

its active and unsteady motions, Jack knew it was making up its

mind to attack us, so he urged us vehemently to paddle for our

lives, while he himself set us the example. Suddenly he shouted

“Look out! - there he comes!” and in a second we saw the monstrous

fish dive close under us, and turn half over on his side. But we

all made a great commotion with our paddles, which no doubt

frightened it away for that time, as we saw it immediately after

circling round us as before.

“Throw the fish to him,” cried Jack, in a quick, suppressed voice;

“we’ll make the shore in time yet if we can keep him off for a few

minutes.”

Peterkin stopped one instant to obey the command, and then plied

his paddle again with all his might. No sooner had the fish fallen

on the water than we observed the shark to sink. In another second

we saw its white breast rising; for sharks always turn over on

their sides when about to seize their prey, their mouths being not

at the point of their heads like those of other fish, but, as it

were, under their chins. In another moment his snout rose above

the water, - his wide jaws, armed with a terrific double row of

teeth, appeared. The dead fish was engulfed, and the shark sank

out of sight. But Jack was mistaken in supposing that it would be

satisfied. In a very few minutes it returned to us, and its quick

motions led us to fear that it would attack us at once.

“Stop paddling,” cried Jack suddenly. “I see it coming up behind

us. Now, obey my orders quickly. Our lives may depend on it

Ralph. Peterkin, do your best to BALANCE THE LOG. Don’t look out

for the shark. Don’t glance behind you. Do nothing but balance

the log.”

Peterkin and I instantly did as we were ordered, being only too

glad to do anything that afforded us a chance or a hope of escape,

for we had implicit confidence in Jack’s courage and wisdom. For a

few seconds, that seemed long minutes to my mind, we sat thus

silently; but I could not resist glancing backward, despite the

orders to the contrary. On doing so, I saw Jack sitting rigid like

a statue, with his paddle raised, his lips compressed, and his eyebrows bent over his eyes, which glared savagely from beneath them

down into the water. I also saw the shark, to my horror, quite

close under the log, in the act of darting towards Jack’s foot. I

could scarce suppress a cry on beholding this. In another moment

the shark rose. Jack drew his leg suddenly from the water, and

threw it over the log. The monster’s snout rubbed against the log

as it passed, and revealed its hideous jaws, into which Jack

instantly plunged the paddle, and thrust it down its throat. So

violent was the act that Jack rose to his feet in performing it;

the log was thereby rolled completely over, and we were once more

plunged into the water. We all rose, spluttering and gasping, in a

moment.

“Now then, strike out for shore,” cried Jack. “Here, Peterkin,

catch hold of my collar, and kick out with a will.”

Peterkin did as he was desired, and Jack struck out with such force

that he cut through the water like a boat; while I, being free from

all encumbrance, succeeded in keeping up with him. As we had by

this time drawn pretty near to the shore, a few minutes more

sufficed to carry us into shallow water; and, finally, we landed in

safety, though very much exhausted, and not a little frightened by

our terrible adventure.

CHAPTER VIII.

The beauties of the bottom of the sea tempt Peterkin to dive - How

he did it - More difficulties overcome - The water garden - Curious

creatures of the sea - The tank - Candles missed very much, and the

candle-nut tree discovered - Wonderful account of Peterkin’s first

voyage - Cloth found growing on a tree - A plan projected, and arms

prepared for offence and defence - A dreadful cry.

OUR encounter with the shark was the first great danger that had

befallen us since landing on this island, and we felt very

seriously affected by it, especially when we considered that we had

so often unwittingly incurred the same danger before while bathing.

We were now forced to take to fishing again in the shallow water,

until we should succeed in constructing a raft. What troubled us

most, however, was, that we were compelled to forego our morning

swimming excursions. We did, indeed, continue to enjoy our bathe

in the shallow water, but Jack and I found that one great source of

our enjoyment was gone, when we could no longer dive down among the

beautiful coral groves at the bottom of the lagoon. We had come to

be so fond of this exercise, and to take such an interest in

watching the formations of coral and the gambols of the many

beautiful fish amongst the forests of red and green sea-weeds, that

we had become quite familiar with the appearance of the fish and

the localities that they chiefly haunted. We had also become

expert divers. But we made it a rule never to stay long under

water at a time. Jack told me that to do so often was bad for the

lungs, and, instead of affording us enjoyment, would ere long do us

a serious injury. So we never stayed at the bottom as long as we

might have done, but came up frequently to the top for fresh air,

and dived down again immediately. Sometimes, when Jack happened to

be in a humorous frame, he would seat himself at the bottom of the

sea on one of the brain corals, as if he were seated on a large

paddock-stool, and then make faces at me, in order, if possible, to

make me laugh under water. At first, when he took me unawares, he

nearly succeeded, and I had to shoot to the surface in order to

laugh; but afterwards I became aware of his intentions, and, being

naturally of a grave disposition, I had no difficulty in

restraining myself. I used often to wonder how poor Peterkin would

have liked to be with us; and he sometimes expressed much regret at

being unable to join us. I used to do my best to gratify him, poor

fellow, by relating all the wonders that we saw; but this, instead

of satisfying, seemed only to whet his curiosity the more, so one

day we prevailed on him to try to go down with us. But, although a

brave boy in every other way, Peterkin was very nervous in the

water, and it was with difficulty we got him to consent to be taken

down, for he could never have managed to push himself down to the

bottom without assistance. But no sooner had we pulled him down a

yard or so into the deep clear water, than he began to struggle and

kick violently, so we were forced to let him go, when he rose out

of the water like a cork, gave a loud gasp and a frightful roar,

and struck out for the land with the utmost possible haste.

Now, all this pleasure we were to forego, and when we thought

thereon, Jack and I felt very much depressed in our spirits. I

could see, also, that Peterkin grieved and sympathized with us,

for, when talking about this matter, he refrained from jesting and

bantering us upon it.

As, however, a man’s difficulties usually set him upon devising

methods to overcome them, whereby he often discovers better things

than those he may have lost, so this our difficulty induced us to

think of searching for a large pool among the rocks, where the

water should be deep enough for diving yet so surrounded by rocks

as to prevent sharks from getting at us. And such a pool we

afterwards found, which proved to be very much better than our most

sanguine hopes anticipated. It was situated not more than ten

minutes’ walk from our camp, and was in the form of a small deep

bay or basin, the entrance to which, besides being narrow, was so

shallow that no fish so large as a shark could get in, at least not

unless he should be a remarkably thin one.

Inside of this basin, which we called our Water Garden, the coral

formations were much more wonderful, and the sea-weed plants far

more lovely and vividly coloured, than in the lagoon itself. And

the water was so clear and still, that, although very deep, you

could see the minutest object at the bottom. Besides this, there

was a ledge of rock which overhung the basin at its deepest part,

from which we could dive pleasantly and whereon Peterkin could sit

and see not only all the wonders I had described to him, but also

see Jack and me creeping amongst the marine shrubbery at the

bottom, like, as - he expressed it, - “two great white sea-monsters.” During these excursions of ours to the bottom of the

sea, we began to get an insight into the manners and customs of its

inhabitants, and to make discoveries of wonderful things, the like

of which we never before conceived. Among other things, we were

deeply interested with the operations of the little coral insect

which, I was informed by Jack, is supposed to have entirely

constructed many of the numerous islands in Pacific Ocean. And,

certainly, when we considered the great reef which these insects

had formed round the island on which we were cast, and observed

their ceaseless activity in building their myriad cells, it did at

first seem as if this might be true; but then, again, when I looked

at the mountains of the island, and reflected that there were

thousands of such, many of them much higher, in the South Seas, I

doubted that there must be some mistake here. But more of this

hereafter.

I also became much taken up with the manners and appearance of the

anemones, and starfish, and crabs, and sea-urchins, and such-like

creatures; and was not content with watching those I saw during my

dives in the Water Garden, but I must needs scoop out a hole in the

coral rock close to it, which I filled with salt water, and stocked

with sundry specimens of anemones and shell-fish, in order to watch

more closely how they were in the habit of passing their time. Our

burning-glass also now became a great treasure to me, as it enabled

me to magnify, and so to perceive more clearly the forms and

actions of these curious creatures of the deep.

Having now got ourselves into a very comfortable condition, we

began to talk of a project which we had long had in contemplation,

- namely, to travel entirely round the island; in order, first, to

ascertain whether it contained any other productions which might be

useful to us; and, second, to see whether there might be any place

more convenient and suitable for our permanent residence than that

on which we were now encamped. Not that we were in any degree

dissatisfied with it; on the contrary, we entertained quite a home-feeling to our bower and its neighbourhood; but if a better place

did exist, there was no reason why we should not make use of it.

At any rate, it would be well to know of its existence.

We had much earnest talk over this matter. But Jack proposed that,

before undertaking such an excursion, we should supply ourselves

with good defensive arms, for, as we intended not only to go round

all the shore, but to ascend most of the valleys, before returning

home, we should be likely to meet in with, he would not say

dangers, but, at least, with everything that existed on the island,

whatever that might be.

“Besides,” said Jack, “it won’t do for us to live on cocoa-nuts and

oysters always. No doubt they are very excellent in their way, but

I think a little animal food, now and then, would be agreeable as

well as good for us; and as there are many small birds among the

trees, some of which are probably very good to eat, I think it

would be a capital plan to make bows and arrows, with which we

could easily knock them over.”

“First rate!” cried Peterkin. “You will make the bows, Jack, and

I’ll try my hand at the arrows. The fact is, I’m quite tired of

throwing stones at the birds. I began the very day we landed, I

think, and have persevered up to the present time, but I’ve never

hit anything yet.”

“You forget,” said I, “you hit me one day on the shin.”

“Ah, true,” replied Peterkin, “and a precious shindy you kicked up

in consequence. But you were at least four yards away from the

impudent paroquet I aimed at; so you see what a horribly bad shot I

am.”

“But,” said I, “Jack, you cannot make three bows and arrows before

to-morrow, and would it not be a pity to waste time, now that we

have made up our minds to go on this expedition? Suppose that you

make one bow and arrow for yourself, and we can take our clubs?”

“That’s true, Ralph. The day is pretty far advanced, and I doubt

if I can make even one bow before dark. To be sure I might work by

fire-light, after the sun goes down.”

We had, up to this time, been in the habit of going to bed with the

sun, as we had no pressing call to work o’ nights; and, indeed, our

work during the day was usually hard enough, - what between

fishing, and improving our bower, and diving in the Water Garden,

and rambling in the woods; so that, when night came, we were

usually very glad to retire to our beds. But now that we had a

desire to work at night, we felt a wish for candles.

“Won’t a good blazing fire give you light enough?” inquired

Peterkin.

“Yes,” replied Jack, “quite enough; but then it will give us a

great deal more than enough of heat in this warm climate of ours.”

“True,” said Peterkin; “I forgot that. It would roast us.”

“Well, as you’re always doing that at any rate,” remarked Jack, “we

could scarcely call it a change. But the fact is, I’ve been

thinking over this subject before. There is a certain nut growing

in these islands which is called the candle-nut, because the

natives use it instead of candles, and I know all about it, and how

to prepare it for burning - “

“Then why don’t you do it?” interrupted Peterkin. “Why have you

kept us in the dark so long, you vile philosopher?”

“Because,” said Jack, “I have not seen the tree yet, and I’m not

sure that I should know either the tree or the nuts if I did see

them. You see, I forget the description.”

“Ah! that’s just the way with me,” said Peterkin with a deep sigh.

“I never could keep in my mind for half an hour the few

descriptions I ever attempted to remember. The very first voyage I

ever made was caused by my mistaking a description, or forgetting

it, which is the same thing. And a horrible voyage it was. I had

to fight with the captain the whole way out, and made the homeward

voyage by swimming!”

“Come, Peterkin,” said I, “you can’t get even ME to believe that.”

“Perhaps not, but it’s true, notwithstanding,” returned Peterkin,

pretending to be hurt at my doubting his word.

“Let us hear how it happened,” said Jack, while a good-natured

smile overspread his face.

“Well, you must know,” began Peterkin, “that the very day before I

went to sea, I was greatly taken up with a game at hockey, which I

was playing with my old school-fellows for the last time before

leaving them. You see I was young then, Ralph.” Peterkin gazed,

in an abstracted and melancholy manner, out to sea! “Well, in the

midst of the game, my uncle, who had taken all the bother and

trouble of getting me bound ‘prentice and rigged out, came and took

me aside, and told me that he was called suddenly away from home,

and would not be able to see me aboard, as he had intended.

‘However,’ said he, ‘the captain knows you are coming, so that’s

not of much consequence; but as you’ll have to find the ship

yourself, you must remember her name and description. D’ye hear,

boy?’ I certainly did hear, but I’m afraid I did not understand,

for my mind was so taken up with the game, which I saw my side was

losing, that I began to grow impatient, and the moment my uncle

finished his description of the ship, and bade me good-bye, I

bolted back to my game, with only a confused idea of three masts,

and a green painted tafferel, and a gilt figurehead of Hercules

with his club at the bow. Next day I was so much cast down with

everybody saying good-bye, and a lot o’ my female friends cryin’

horribly over me, that I did not start for the harbour, where the

ship was lying among a thousand others, till it was almost too

late. So I had to run the whole way. When I reached the pier,

there were so many masts, and so much confusion, that I felt quite

humblebumbled in my faculties. ‘Now,’ said I to myself, ‘Peterkin,

you’re in a fix.’ Then I fancied I saw a gilt figurehead and

three masts, belonging to a ship just about to start; so I darted

on board, but speedily jumped on shore again, when I found that two

of the masts belonged to another vessel, and the figurehead to a

third! At last I caught sight of what I made sure was it, - a fine

large vessel just casting off her moorings. The tafferel was

green. Three masts, - yes, that must be it, - and the gilt figurehead of Hercules. To be sure it had a three-pronged pitchfork in

its hand instead of a club; but that might be my uncle’s mistake;

or perhaps Hercules sometimes varied his weapons. ‘Cast off!’

roared a voice from the quarterdeck. ‘Hold on!’ cried I, rushing

frantically through the crowd. ‘Hold on! hold on!’ repeated some

of the bystanders, while the men at the ropes delayed for a minute.

This threw the captain into a frightful rage; for some of his

friends had come down to see him off, and having his orders

contradicted so flatly was too much for him. However, the delay

was sufficient. I took a race and a good leap; the ropes were cast

off; the steam-tug gave a puff, and we started. Suddenly the

captain was up to me: ‘Where did you come from, you scamp, and

what do you want here?’

“‘Please, sir,’ said I, touching my cap, ‘I’m you’re new ‘prentice

come aboard.’

“‘New ‘Prentice,’ said he, stamping, ‘I’ve got no new ‘prentice.

My boys are all aboard already. This is a trick, you young

blackguard. You’ve run away, you have;’ and the captain stamped

about the deck and swore dreadfully; for, you see, the thought of

having to stop the ship and lower a boat and lose half an hour, all

for the slake of sending a small boy ashore, seemed to make him

very angry. Besides, it was blowin’ fresh outside the harbour, so

that, to have let the steamer alongside to put me into it was no

easy job. Just as we were passing the pier-head, where several

boats were rowing into harbour, the captain came up to me, -

“‘You’ve run away, you blackguard,’ he said, giving me a box on the

ear.

“‘No I haven’t,’ said I, angrily; for the box was by no means a

light one.

“Hark’ee, boy, can you swim?’

“‘Yes,’ said I.

“‘Then do it,’ and, seizing me by my trousers and the nape of my

neck, he tossed me over the side into the sea. The fellows in the

boats at the end of the pier, backed their oars on seeing this; but

observing that I could swim, they allowed me to make the best of my

way to the pier-head. So, you see, Ralph, that I really did swim

my first homeward voyage.”

Jack laughed and patted Peterkin on the shoulder. “But tell us

about the candle-nut tree,” said I; “you were talking about it.”

“Very true,” said Jack, “but I fear I can remember little about it.

I believe the nut is about the size of a walnut; and I think that

the leaves are white, but I am not sure.”

“Eh! ha! hum!” exclaimed Peterkin, “I saw a tree answering to that

description this very day.”

“Did you?” cried Jack. “Is it far from this?”

“No, not half a mile.”

“Then lead me to it,” said Jack, seizing his axe.

In a few minutes we were all three pushing through the underwood of

the forest, headed by Peterkin.

We soon came to the tree in question, which, after Jack had closely

examined it, we concluded must be the candle-nut tree. Its leaves

were of a beautiful silvery white, and formed a fine contrast to

the dark-green foliage of the surrounding trees. We immediately

filled our pockets with the nuts, after which Jack said, -

“Now, Peterkin, climb that cocoa-nut tree and cut me one of the

long branches.”

This was soon done, but it cost some trouble, for the stem was very

high, and as Peterkin usually pulled nuts from the younger trees,

he was not much accustomed to climbing the high ones. The leaf or

branch was a very large one, and we were surprised at its size and

strength. Viewed from a little distance, the cocoa-nut tree seems

to be a tall, straight stem, without a single branch except at the

top, where there is a tuft of feathery-looking leaves, that seem to

wave like soft plumes in the wind. But when we saw one of these

leaves or branches at our feet, we found it to be a strong stalk,

about fifteen feet long, with a number of narrow, pointed leaflets

ranged alternately on each side. But what seemed to us the most

wonderful thing about it was a curious substance resembling cloth,

which was wrapped round the thick end of the stalk, where it had

been cut from the tree. Peterkin told us that he had the greatest

difficulty in separating the branch from the stem, on account of

this substance, as it was wrapped quite round the tree, and, he

observed, round all the other branches, thus forming a strong

support to the large leaves while exposed to high winds. When I

call this substance cloth I do not exaggerate. Indeed, with regard

to all the things I saw during my eventful career in the South

Seas, I have been exceedingly careful not to exaggerate, or in any

way to mislead or deceive my readers. This cloth, I say, was

remarkably like to coarse brown cotton cloth. It had a seam or

fibre down the centre of it, from which diverged other fibres,

about the size of a bristle. There were two layers of these

fibres, very long and tough, the one layer crossing the other

obliquely, and the whole was cemented together with a still finer

fibrous and adhesive substance. When we regarded it attentively,

we could with difficulty believe that it had not been woven by

human hands. This remarkable piece of cloth we stripped carefully

off, and found it to be above two feet long, by a foot broad, and

we carried it home with us as a great prize.

Jack now took one of the leaflets, and, cutting out the central

spine or stalk, hurried back with it to our camp. Having made a

small fire, he baked the nuts slightly, and then pealed off the

husks. After this he wished to bore a hole in them, which, not

having anything better at hand at the time, he did with the point

of our useless pencil-case. Then he strung them on the cocoa-nut

spine, and on putting a light to the topmost nut, we found to our

joy that it burned with a clear, beautiful flame; upon seeing

which, Peterkin sprang up and danced round the fire for at least

five minutes in the excess of his satisfaction.

“Now lads,” said Jack, extinguishing our candle, the sun will set

in an hour, so we have no time to lose. “I shall go and cut a

young tree to make my bow out of, and you had better each of you go

and select good strong sticks for clubs, and we’ll set to work at

them after dark.”

So saying he shouldered his axe and went off, followed by Peterkin,

while I took up the piece of newly discovered cloth, and fell to

examining its structure. So engrossed was I in this that I was

still sitting in the same attitude and occupation when my

companions returned.

“I told you so!” cried Peterkin, with a loud laugh. “Oh, Ralph,

you’re incorrigible. See, there’s a club for you. I was sure,

when we left you looking at that bit of stuff, that we would find

you poring over it when we came back, so I just cut a club for you

as well as for myself.”

“Thank you, Peterkin,” said I. “It was kind of you to do that,

instead of scolding me for a lazy fellow, as I confess I deserve.”

“Oh! as to that,” returned Peterkin, “I’ll blow you up yet, if you

wish it - only it would be of no use if I did, for you’re a perfect

mule!”

As it was now getting dark we lighted our candle, and placing it in

a holder made of two crossing branches, inside of our bower, we

seated ourselves on our leafy beds and began to work.

“I intend to appropriate the bow for my own use,” said Jack,

chipping the piece of wood he had brought with his axe. “I used to

be a pretty fair shot once. But what’s that you’re doing?” he

added, looking at Peterkin, who had drawn the end of a long pole

into the tent, and was endeavouring to fit a small piece of the

hoop-iron to the end of it.

“I’m going to enlist into the Lancers,” answered Peterkin. “You

see, Jack, I find the club rather an unwieldy instrument for my

delicately-formed muscles, and I flatter myself I shall do more

execution with a spear.”

“Well, if length constitutes power,” said Jack, “you’ll certainly

be invincible.”

The pole which Peterkin had cut was full twelve feet long, being a

very strong but light and tough young tree, which merely required

thinning at the butt to be a serviceable weapon.

“That’s a very good idea,” said I.

“Which - this?” inquired Peterkin, pointing to the spear.

“Yes;” I replied.

“Humph!” said he; “you’d find it a pretty tough and matter-of-fact

idea, if you had it stuck through your gizzard, old boy!”

“I mean the idea of making it is a good one,” said I, laughing.

“And, now I think of it, I’ll change my plan, too. I don’t think

much of a club, so I’ll make me a sling out of this piece of cloth.

I used to be very fond of slinging, ever since I read of David

slaying Goliath the Philistine, and I was once thought to be expert

at it.”

So I set to work to manufacture a sling. For a long time we all

worked very busily without speaking. At length Peterkin looked up:

“I say, Jack, I’m sorry to say I must apply to you for another

strip of your handkerchief, to tie on this rascally head with.

It’s pretty well torn at any rate, so you won’t miss it.”

Jack proceeded to comply with this request when Peterkin suddenly

laid his hand on his arm and arrested him.

“Hist, man,” said he, “be tender; you should never be needlessly

cruel if you can help it. Do try to shave past Lord Nelson’s mouth

without tearing it, if possible! Thanks. There are plenty more

handkerchiefs on the cocoa-nut trees.”

Poor Peterkin! with what pleasant feelings I recall and record his

jests and humorous sayings now!

While we were thus engaged, we were startled by a distant but most

strange and horrible cry. It seemed to come from the sea, but was

so far away that we could not clearly distinguish its precise

direction. Rushing out of our bower, we hastened down to the beach

and stayed to listen. Again it came quite loud and distinct on the

night air, - a prolonged, hideous cry, something like the braying

of an ass. The moon had risen, and we could see the islands in and

beyond the lagoon quite plainly, but there was no object visible to

account for such a cry. A strong gust of wind was blowing from the

point whence the sound came, but this died away while we were

gazing out to sea.

“What can it be?” said Peterkin, in a low whisper, while we all

involuntarily crept closer to each other.

“Do you know,” said Jack, “I have heard that mysterious sound twice

before, but never so loud as to-night. Indeed it was so faint that

I thought I must have merely fancied it, so, as I did not wish to

alarm you, I said nothing about it.”

We listened for a long time for the sound again, but as it did not

come, we returned to the bower and resumed our work.

“Very strange,” said Peterkin, quite gravely. “Do you believe in

ghosts, Ralph?”

“No,” I answered, “I do not. Nevertheless I must confess that

strange, unaccountable sounds, such as we have just heard, make me

feel a little uneasy.”

“What say you to it, Jack?”

“I neither believe in ghosts nor feel uneasy,” he replied. “I

never saw a ghost myself, and I never met with any one who had; and

I have generally found that strange and unaccountable things have

almost always been accounted for, and found to be quite simple, on

close examination. I certainly can’t imagine what THAT sound is;

but I’m quite sure I shall find out before long, - and if it’s a

ghost I’ll - “

“Eat it,” cried Peterkin.

“Yes, I’ll eat it! Now, then, my bow and two arrows are finished;

so if you’re ready we had better turn in.”

By this time Peterkin had thinned down his spear and tied an iron

point very cleverly to the end of it; I had formed a sling, the

lines of which were composed of thin strips of the cocoa-nut cloth,

plaited; and Jack had made a stout bow, nearly five feet long, with

two arrows, feathered with two or three large plumes which some

bird had dropt. They had no barbs, but Jack said that if arrows

were well feathered, they did not require iron points, but would

fly quite well if merely sharpened at the point; which I did not

know before.

“A feathered arrow without a barb,” said he, “is a good weapon, but

a barbed arrow without feathers is utterly useless.”

The string of the bow was formed of our piece of whip-cord, part of

which, as he did not like to cut it, was rolled round the bow.

Although thus prepared for a start on the morrow, we thought it

wise to exercise ourselves a little in the use of our weapons

before starting, so we spent the whole of the next day in

practising. And it was well we did so, for we found that our arms

were very imperfect, and that we were far from perfect in the use

of them. First, Jack found that the bow was much too strong, and

he had to thin it. Also the spear was much too heavy, and so had

to be reduced in thickness, although nothing would induce Peterkin

to have it shortened. My sling answered very well, but I had

fallen so much out of practice that my first stone knocked off

Peterkin’s hat, and narrowly missed making a second Goliath of him.

However, after having spent the whole day in diligent practice, we

began to find some of our former expertness returning - at least

Jack and I did. As for Peterkin, being naturally a neat-handed

boy, he soon handled his spear well, and could run full tilt at a

cocoa nut, and hit it with great precision once out of every five

times.

But I feel satisfied that we owed much of our rapid success to the

unflagging energy of Jack, who insisted that, since we had made him

Captain, we should obey him; and he kept us at work from morning

till night, perseveringly, at the same thing. Peterkin wished very

much to run about and stick his spear into everything he passed;

but Jack put up a cocoa nut, and would not let him leave off

running at that for a moment, except when he wanted to rest. We

laughed at Jack for this, but we were both convinced that it did us

much good.

That night we examined and repaired our arms ere we lay down to

rest, although we were much fatigued, in order that we might be in

readiness to set out on our expedition at daylight on the following

morning.

CHAPTER IX.

Prepare for a journey round the island - Sagacious reflections -

Mysterious appearances and startling occurrences.

SCARCELY had the sun shot its first ray across the bosom of the

broad Pacific, when Jack sprang to his feet, and, hallooing in

Peterkin’s ear to awaken him, ran down the beach to take his

customary dip in the sea. We did not, as was our wont, bathe that

morning in our Water Garden, but, in order to save time, refreshed

ourselves in the shallow water just opposite the bower. Our

breakfast was also despatched without loss of time, and in less

than an hour afterwards all our preparations for the journey were

completed.

In addition to his ordinary dress, Jack tied a belt of cocoa-nut

cloth round his waist, into which he thrust the axe. I was also

advised to put on a belt and carry a short cudgel or bludgeon in

it; for, as Jack truly remarked, the sling would be of little use

if we should chance to come to close quarters with any wild animal.

As for Peterkin, notwithstanding that he carried such a long, and I

must add, frightful-looking spear over his shoulder, we could not

prevail on him to leave his club behind; “for,” said he, “a spear

at close quarters is not worth a button.” I must say that it

seemed to me that the club was, to use his own style of language,

not worth a button-hole; for it was all knotted over at the head,

something like the club which I remember to have observed in

picture-books of Jack the Giant Killer, besides being so heavy that

he required to grasp it with both hands in order to wield it at

all. However, he took it with him, and, in this manner we set out

upon our travels.

We did not consider it necessary to carry any food with us, as we

knew that wherever we went we should be certain to fall in with

cocoa-nut trees; having which, we were amply supplied, as Peterkin

said, with meat and drink and pocket-handkerchiefs! I took the

precaution, however, to put the burning-glass into my pocket, lest

we should want fire.

The morning was exceeding lovely. It was one of that very still

and peaceful sort which made the few noises that we heard seem to

be QUIET noises. I know no other way of expressing this idea.

Noises which so far from interrupting the universal tranquillity of

earth, sea, and sky - rather tended to reveal to us how quiet the

world around us really was. Such sounds as I refer to were, the

peculiarly melancholy - yet, it seemed to me, cheerful - plaint of

sea-birds floating on the glassy water, or sailing in the sky, also

the subdued twittering of little birds among the bushes, the faint

ripples on the beach, and the solemn boom of the surf upon the

distant coral reef. We felt very glad in our hearts as we walked

along the sands side by side. For my part, I felt so deeply

overjoyed, that I was surprised at my own sensations, and fell into

a reverie upon the causes of happiness. I came to the conclusion

that a state of profound peace and repose, both in regard to

outward objects and within the soul, is the happiest condition in

which man can be placed; for, although I had many a time been most

joyful and happy when engaged in bustling, energetic, active

pursuits or amusements, I never found that such joy or satisfaction

was so deep or so pleasant to reflect upon as that which I now

experienced. And I was the more confirmed in this opinion when I

observed, and, indeed, was told by himself, that Peterkin’s

happiness was also very great; yet he did not express this by

dancing, as was his wont, nor did he give so much as a single

shout, but walked quietly between us with his eye sparkling, and a

joyful smile upon his countenance. My reader must not suppose that

I thought all this in the clear and methodical manner in which I

have set it down here. These thoughts did, indeed, pass through my

mind, but they did so in a very confused and indefinite manner, for

I was young at that time, and not much given to deep reflections.

Neither did I consider that the peace whereof I write is not to be

found in this world - at least in its perfection, although I have

since learned that by religion a man may attain to a very great

degree of it.

I have said that Peterkin walked along the sands between us. We

had two ways of walking together about our island. When we

travelled through the woods, we always did so in single file, as by

this method we advanced with greater facility, the one treading in

the other’s footsteps. In such cases Jack always took the lead,

Peterkin followed, and I brought up the rear. But when we

travelled along the sands, which extended almost in an unbroken

line of glistening white round the island, we marched abreast, as

we found this method more sociable, and every way more pleasant.

Jack, being the tallest, walked next the sea, and Peterkin marched

between us, as by this arrangement either of us could talk to him

or he to us, while if Jack and I happened to wish to converse

together, we could conveniently do so over Peterkin’s head.

Peterkin used to say, in reference to this arrangement, that had he

been as tall as either of us, our order of march might have been

the same, for, as Jack often used to scold him for letting

everything we said to him pass in at one ear and out at the other,

his head could of course form no interruption to our discourse.

We were now fairly started. Half a mile’s walk conveyed us round a

bend in the land which shut out our bower from view, and for some

time we advanced at a brisk pace without speaking, though our eyes

were not idle, but noted everything, in the woods, on the shore, or

in the sea, that was interesting. After passing the ridge of land

that formed one side of our valley - the Valley of the Wreck - we

beheld another small vale lying before us in all the luxuriant

loveliness of tropical vegetation. We had, indeed, seen it before

from the mountain-top, but we had no idea that it would turn out to

be so much more lovely when we were close to it. We were about to

commence the exploration of this valley, when Peterkin stopped us,

and directed our attention to a very remarkable appearance in

advance along the shore.

“What’s yon, think you?” said he, levelling his spear, as if he

expected an immediate attack from the object in question, though it

was full half a mile distant.

As he spoke, there appeared a white column above the rocks, as if

of steam or spray. It rose upwards to a height of several feet,

and then disappeared. Had this been near the sea, we would not

have been so greatly surprised, as it might in that case have been

the surf, for at this part of the coast the coral reef approached

so near to the island that in some parts it almost joined it.

There was therefore no lagoon between, and the heavy surf of the

ocean beat almost up to the rocks. But this white column appeared

about fifty yards inland. The rocks at the place were rugged, and

they stretched across the sandy beach into the sea. Scarce had we

ceased expressing our surprise at this sight, when another column

flew upwards for a few seconds, not far from the spot where the

first had been seen, and disappeared; and so, at long irregular

intervals, these strange sights recurred. We were now quite sure

that the columns were watery or composed of spray, but what caused

them we could not guess, so we determined to go and see.

In a few minutes we gained the spot, which was very rugged and

precipitous, and, moreover, quite damp with the falling of the

spray. We had much ado to pass over dry-shod. The ground also was

full of holes here and there. Now, while we stood anxiously

waiting for the reappearance of these water-spouts, we heard a

low, rumbling sound near us, which quickly increased to a gargling

and hissing noise, and a moment afterwards a thick spout of water

burst upwards from a hole in the rock, and spouted into the air

with much violence, and so close to where Jack and I were standing

that it nearly touched us. We sprang to one side, but not before a

cloud of spray descended, and drenched us both to the skin.

Peterkin, who was standing farther off, escaped with a few drops,

and burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter on beholding our

miserable plight.

“Mind your eye!” he shouted eagerly, “there goes another!” The

words were scarcely out of his mouth when there came up a spout

from another hole, which served us exactly in the same manner as

before.

Peterkin now shrieked with laughter; but his merriment was abruptly

put a stop to by the gurgling noise occurring close to where he

stood.

“Where’ll it spout this time, I wonder?” he said, looking about

with some anxiety, and preparing to run. Suddenly there came a

loud hiss or snort; a fierce spout of water burst up between

Peterkin’s legs, blew him off his feet, enveloped him in its spray,

and hurled him to the ground. He fell with so much violence that

we feared he must have broken some of his bones, and ran anxiously

to his assistance; but fortunately he had fallen on a clump of

tangled herbage, in which he lay sprawling in a most deplorable

condition.

It was now our turn to laugh; but as we were not yet quite sure

that he was unhurt, and as we knew not when or where the next spout

might arise, we assisted him hastily to jump up and hurry from the

spot.

I may here add, that although I am quite certain that the spout of

water was very strong, and that it blew Peterkin completely off his

legs, I am not quite certain of the exact height to which it lifted

him, being somewhat startled by the event, and blinded partially by

the spray, so that my power of observation was somewhat impaired

for the moment.

“What’s to be done now?” inquired Peterkin ruefully.

“Make a fire, lad, and dry ourselves,” replied Jack.

“And here is material ready to our hand,” said I, picking up a

dried branch of a tree, as we hurried up to the woods.

In about an hour after this mishap our clothes were again dried.

While they were hanging up before the fire, we walked down to the

beach, and soon observed that these curious spouts took place

immediately after the fall of a huge wave, never before it; and,

moreover, that the spouts did not take place excepting when the

billow was an extremely large one. From this we concluded that

there must be a subterraneous channel in the rock into which the

water was driven by the larger waves, and finding no way of escape

except through these small holes, was thus forced up violently

through them. At any rate, we could not conceive any other reason

for these strange water-spouts, and as this seemed a very simple

and probable one, we forthwith adopted it.

“I say, Ralph, what’s that in the water? is it a shark?” said Jack,

just as we were about to quit the place.

I immediately ran to the overhanging ledge of rock, from which he

was looking down into the sea, and bent over it. There I saw a

very faint pale object of a greenish colour, which seemed to move

slightly while I looked at it.

“It’s like a fish of some sort,” said I.

“Hallo, Peterkin!” cried Jack, “fetch your spear; here’s work for

it.”

But when we tried to reach the object, the spear proved to be too

short.

“There, now,” said Peterkin with a sneer, “you were always telling

me it was too long.”

Jack now drove the spear forcibly towards the object, and let go

his hold; but, although it seemed to be well aimed, he must have

missed, for the handle soon rose again; and when the spear was

drawn up, there was the pale green object in exactly the same spot,

slowly moving its tail.

“Very odd,” said Jack.

But although it was undoubtedly very odd, and, although Jack and

all of us plunged the spear at it repeatedly, we could neither hit

it nor drive it away, so we were compelled to continue our journey

without discovering what it was. I was very much perplexed at this

strange appearance in the water, and could not get it out of my

mind for a long time afterwards. However, I quieted myself by

resolving that I would pay a visit to it again at some more

convenient season.

CHAPTER X.

Make discovery of many excellent roots and fruits - The resources

of the Coral Island gradually unfolded - The banian-tree - Another

tree which is supported by natural planks - Water-fowl found - A

very remarkable discovery, and a very peculiar murder - We

luxuriate on the fat of the land.

OUR examination of the little valley proved to be altogether most

satisfactory. We found in it not only similar trees to those we

had already seen in our own valley, but also one or two others of a

different species. We had also the satisfaction of discovering a

peculiar vegetable, which Jack concluded must certainly be that of

which he had read as being very common among the South Sea

islanders, and which was named TARO. Also we found a large supply

of yams, and another root like a potato in appearance. As these

were all quite new to us, we regarded our lot as a most fortunate

one, in being thus cast on an island which was so prolific and so

well stored with all the necessaries of life. Long afterwards we

found out that this island of ours was no better in these respects

than thousands of other islands in those seas. Indeed, many of

them were much richer and more productive; but that did not render

us the less grateful for our present good fortune. We each put one

of these roots in our pocket, intending to use them for our supper;

of which more hereafter. We also saw many beautiful birds here,

and traces of some four-footed animal again. Meanwhile the sun

began to descend, so we returned to the shore, and pushed on round

the spouting rocks into the next valley. This was that valley of

which I have spoken as running across the entire island. It was by

far the largest and most beautiful that we had yet looked upon.

Here were trees of every shape and size and hue which it is

possible to conceive of, many of which we had not seen in the other

valleys; for, the stream in this valley being larger, and the mould

much richer than in the Valley of the Wreck, it was clothed with a

more luxuriant growth of trees and plants. Some trees were dark

glossy green, others of a rich and warm hue, contrasting well with

those of a pale light green, which were everywhere abundant. Among

these we recognised the broad dark heads of the bread-fruit, with

its golden fruit; the pure, silvery foliage of the candle-nut, and

several species which bore a strong resemblance to the pine; while

here and there, in groups and in single trees, rose the tall forms

of the cocoa-nut palms, spreading abroad, and waving their graceful

plumes high above all the rest, as if they were a superior race of

stately giants keeping guard over these luxuriant forests. Oh! it

was a most enchanting scene, and I thanked God for having created

such delightful spots for the use of man.

Now, while we were gazing around us in silent admiration, Jack

uttered an exclamation of surprise, and, pointing to an object a

little to one side of us, said, -

“That’s a banian-tree.”

“And what’s a banian-tree?” inquired Peterkin, as we walked towards

it.

“A very curious one, as you shall see presently,” replied Jack.

“It is called the AOA here, if I recollect rightly, and has a

wonderful peculiarity about it. What an enormous one it is, to be

sure.”

“IT!” repeated Peterkin; “why, there are dozens of banians here!

What do you mean by talking bad grammar? Is your philosophy

deserting you, Jack?”

“There is but one tree here of this kind,” returned Jack, “as you

will perceive if you will examine it.” And, sure enough, we did

find that what we had supposed was a forest of trees was in reality

only one. Its bark was of a light colour, and had a shining

appearance, the leaves being lance-shaped, small, and of a

beautiful pea-green. But the wonderful thing about it was, that

the branches, which grew out from the stem horizontally, sent down

long shoots or fibres to the ground, which, taking root, had

themselves become trees, and were covered with bark like the tree

itself. Many of these fibres had descended from the branches at

various distances, and thus supported them on natural pillars, some

of which were so large and strong, that it was not easy at first to

distinguish the offspring from the parent stem. The fibres were of

all sizes and in all states of advancement, from the pillars we

have just mentioned to small cords which hung down and were about

to take root, and thin brown threads still far from the ground,

which swayed about with every motion of wind. In short, it seemed

to us that, if there were only space afforded to it, this single

tree would at length cover the whole island.

Shortly after this we came upon another remarkable tree, which, as

its peculiar formation afterwards proved extremely useful to us,

merits description. It was a splendid chestnut, but its proper

name Jack did not know. However, there were quantities of fine

nuts upon it, some of which we put in our pockets. But its stem

was the wonderful part of it. It rose to about twelve feet without

a branch, and was not of great thickness; on the contrary, it was

remarkably slender for the size of the tree; but, to make up for

this, there were four or five wonderful projections in this stem,

which I cannot better describe than by asking the reader to suppose

that five planks of two inches thick and three feet broad had been

placed round the trunk of the tree, with their EDGES closely fixed

to it, from the ground up to the branches, and that these planks

bad been covered over with the bark of the tree and incorporated

with it. In short, they were just natural buttresses, without

which the stem could not have supported its heavy and umbrageous

top. We found these chestnuts to be very numerous. They grew

chiefly on the banks of the stream, and were of all sizes.

While we were examining a small tree of this kind, Jack chipped a

piece off a buttress with his axe, and found the wood to be firm

and easily cut. He then struck the axe into it with all his force,

and very soon split it off close to the tree, first, however,

having cut it across transversely above and below. By this means

he satisfied himself that we could now obtain short planks, as it

were all ready sawn, of any size and thickness that we desired;

which was a very great discovery indeed, perhaps the most important

we had yet made.

We now wended our way back to the coast, intending to encamp near

the beach, as we found that the mosquitoes were troublesome in the

forest. On our way we could not help admiring the birds which flew

and chirped around us. Among them we observed a pretty kind of

paroquet, with a green body, a blue head, and a red breast; also a

few beautiful turtledoves, and several flocks of wood-pigeons. The

hues of many of these birds were extremely vivid, - bright green,

blue, and scarlet, being the prevailing tints. We made several

attempts throughout the day to bring down one of these, both with

the bow and the sling, - not for mere sport, but to ascertain

whether they were good for food. But we invariably missed,

although once or twice we were very near hitting. As evening drew

on, however, a flock of pigeons flew past. I slung a stone into

the midst of them at a venture, and had the good fortune to kill

one. We were startled, soon after, by a loud whistling noise above

our heads; and on looking up, saw a flock of wild ducks making for

the coast. We watched these, and, observing where they alighted,

followed them up until we came upon a most lovely blue lake, not

more than two hundred yards long, imbosomed in verdant trees. Its

placid surface, which reflected every leaf and stem, as if in a

mirror, was covered with various species of wild ducks, feeding

among the sedges and broad-leaved water-plants which floated on it,

while numerous birds like water-hens ran to and fro most busily on

its margin. These all with one accord flew tumultuously away the

instant we made our appearance. While walking along the margin we

observed fish in the water, but of what sort we could not tell.

Now, as we neared the shore, Jack and I said we would go a little

out of our way to see if we could procure one of those ducks; so,

directing Peterkin to go straight to the shore and kindle a fire,

we separated, promising to rejoin him speedily. But we did not

find the ducks, although we made a diligent search for half an

hour. We were about to retrace our steps, when we were arrested by

one of the strangest sights that we had yet beheld.

Just in front of us, at the distance of about ten yards, grew a

superb tree, which certainly was the largest we had yet seen on the

island. Its trunk was at least five feet in diameter, with a

smooth gray bark; above this the spreading branches were clothed

with light green leaves, amid which were clusters of bright yellow

fruit, so numerous as to weigh down the boughs with their great

weight. This fruit seemed to be of the plum species, of an oblong

form, and a good deal larger than the magnum bonum plum. The

ground at the foot of this tree was thickly strewn with the fallen

fruit, in the midst of which lay sleeping, in every possible

attitude, at least twenty hogs of all ages and sizes, apparently

quite surfeited with a recent banquet.

Jack and I could scarce restrain our laughter as we gazed at these

coarse, fat, ill-looking animals, while they lay groaning and

snoring heavily amid the remains of their supper.

“Now, Ralph,” said Jack, in a low whisper, “put a stone in your

sling, - a good big one, - and let fly at that fat fellow with his

back toward you. I’ll try to put an arrow into yon little pig.”

“Don’t you think we had better put them up first?” I whispered; “it

seems cruel to kill them while asleep.”

“If I wanted SPORT, Ralph, I would certainly set them up; but as we

only want PORK, we’ll let them lie. Besides, we’re not sure of

killing them; so, fire away.”

Thus admonished, I slung my stone with so good aim that it went

bang against the hog’s flank as if against the head of a drum; but

it had no other effect than that of causing the animal to start to

its feet, with a frightful yell of surprise, and scamper away. At

the same instant Jack’s bow twanged, and the arrow pinned the

little pig to the ground by the ear.

“I’ve missed, after all,” cried Jack, darting forward with uplifted

axe, while the little pig uttered a loud squeal, tore the arrow

from the ground, and ran away with it, along with the whole drove,

into the bushes and disappeared, though we heard them screaming

long afterwards in the distance.

“That’s very provoking, now,” said Jack, rubbing the point of his

nose.

“Very,” I replied, stroking my chin.

“Well, we must make haste and rejoin Peterkin,” said Jack. “It’s

getting late.” And, without further remark, we threaded our way

quickly through the woods towards the shore.

When we reached it, we found wood laid out, the fire lighted and

beginning to kindle up, with other signs of preparation for our

encampment, but Peterkin was nowhere to be found. We wondered very

much at this; but Jack suggested that he might have gone to fetch

water; so he gave a shout to let him know that we had arrived, and

sat down upon a rock, while I threw off my jacket and seized the

axe, intending to split up one or two billets of wood. But I had

scarce moved from the spot when, in the distance, we heard a most

appalling shriek, which was followed up by a chorus of yells from

the hogs, and a loud “hurrah!”

“I do believe,” said I, “that Peterkin has met with the hogs.”

“When Greek meets Greek,” said Jack, soliloquizing, “then comes the

tug of - “

“Hurrah!” shouted Peterkin in the distance.

We turned hastily towards the direction whence the sound came, and

soon descried Peterkin walking along the beach towards us with a

little pig transfixed on the end of his long spear!

“Well done, my boy!” exclaimed Jack, slapping him on the shoulder

when he came up, “you’re the best shot amongst us.”

“Look here Jack!” cried Peterkin, as he disengaged the animal from

his spear. “Do you recognise that hole?” said he, pointing to the

pig’s ear; “and are you familiar with this arrow, eh?”

“Well, I declare!” said Jack.

“Of course you do,” interrupted Peterkin; “but, pray, restrain your

declarations at this time, and let’s have supper, for I’m

uncommonly hungry, I can tell you; and it’s no joke to charge a

whole herd of swine with their great-grandmother bristling like a

giant porcupine at the head of them!”

We now set about preparing supper; and, truly, a good display of

viands we made, when all was laid out on a flat rock in the light

of the blazing fire. There was, first of all, the little pig; then

there was the taro-root, and the yam, and the potato, and six

plums; and, lastly, the wood-pigeon. To these Peterkin added a bit

of sugar-cane, which he had cut from a little patch of that plant

which he had found not long after separating from us; “and,” said

he, “the patch was somewhat in a square form, which convinces me it

must have been planted by man.”

“Very likely,” replied Jack. “From all we have seen, I’m inclined

to think that some of the savages must have dwelt here long ago.”

We found no small difficulty in making up our minds how we were to

cook the pig. None of us had ever cut up one before, and we did

not know exactly how to begin; besides, we had nothing but the axe

to do it with, our knife having been forgotten. At last Jack

started up and said, -

“Don’t let us waste more time talking about it, boys. Hold it up,

Peterkin. There, lay the hind leg on this block of wood, so;” and

he cut it off, with a large portion of the haunch, at a single blow

of the axe. “Now the other, - that’s it.” And having thus cut off

the two hind legs, he made several deep gashes in them, thrust a

sharp-pointed stick through each, and stuck them up before the

blaze to roast. The wood-pigeon was then split open, quite flat,

washed clean in salt water, and treated in a similar manner. While

these were cooking, we scraped a hole in the sand and ashes under

the fire, into which we put our vegetables, and covered them up.

The taro-root was of an oval shape, about ten inches long and four

or five thick. It was of a mottled-gray colour, and had a thick

rind. We found it somewhat like an Irish potato, and exceedingly

good. The yam was roundish, and had a rough brown skin. It was

very sweet and well-flavoured. The potato, we were surprised to

find, was quite sweet and exceedingly palatable, as also were the

plums; and, indeed, the pork and pigeon too, when we came to taste

them. Altogether this was decidedly the most luxurious supper we

had enjoyed for many a day; and Jack said it was out-of-sight

better than we ever got on board ship; and Peterkin said he feared

that if we should remain long on the island he would infallibly

become a glutton or an epicure: whereat Jack remarked that he need

not fear that, for he was BOTH already! And so, having eaten our

fill, not forgetting to finish off with a plum, we laid ourselves

comfortably down to sleep upon a couch of branches under the

overhanging ledge of a coral rock.

CHAPTER XI.

Effects of over-eating, and reflections thereon - Humble advice

regarding cold water - The “horrible cry” accounted for - The

curious birds called penguins - Peculiarity of the cocoa nut palm -

Questions on the formation of coral islands - Mysterious footsteps

- Strange discoveries and sad sights.

WHEN we awoke on the following morning, we found that the sun was

already a good way above the horizon, so I came to the conclusion

that a heavy supper is not conducive to early rising.

Nevertheless, we felt remarkably strong and well, and much disposed

to have our breakfast. First, however, we had our customary

morning bathe, which refreshed us greatly.

I have often wondered very much in after years that the inhabitants

of my own dear land did not make more frequent use of this most

charming element, water. I mean in the way of cold bathing. Of

course, I have perceived that it is not convenient for them to go

into the sea or the rivers in winter, as we used to do on the Coral

Island; but then, I knew from experience that a large washing-tub

and a sponge do form a most pleasant substitute. The feelings of

freshness, of cleanliness, of vigour, and extreme hilarity, that

always followed my bathes in the sea, and even, when in England, my

ablutions in the wash-tub, were so delightful, that I would sooner

have gone without my breakfast than without my bathe in cold water.

My readers will forgive me for asking whether they are in the habit

of bathing thus every morning; and if they answer “No,” they will

pardon me for recommending them to begin at once. Of late years,

since retiring from the stirring life of adventure which I have led

so long in foreign climes, I have heard of a system called the

cold-water-cure. Now, I do not know much about that system, so I

do not mean to uphold it, neither do I intend to run it down.

Perhaps, in reference to it, I may just hint that there may be too

much of a good thing. I know not; but of this I am quite certain,

that there may also be too little of a good thing; and the great

delight I have had in cold bathing during the course of my

adventurous career inclines me to think that it is better to risk

taking too much than to content one’s self with too little. Such

is my opinion, derived from much experience; but I put it before my

readers with the utmost diffidence and with profound modesty,

knowing that it may possibly jar with their feelings of confidence

in their own ability to know and judge as to what is best and

fittest in reference to their own affairs. But, to return from

this digression, for which I humbly crave forgiveness.

We had not advanced on our journey much above a mile or so, and

were just beginning to feel the pleasant glow that usually

accompanies vigorous exercise, when, on turning a point that

revealed to us a new and beautiful cluster of islands, we were

suddenly arrested by the appalling cry which had so alarmed us a

few nights before. But this time we were by no means so much

alarmed as on the previous occasion, because, whereas at that time

it was night, now it was day; and I have always found, though I am

unable to account for it, that daylight banishes many of the fears

that are apt to assail us in the dark.

On hearing the sound, Peterkin instantly threw forward his spear.

“Now, what can it be?” said he, looking round at Jack. “I tell you

what it is, if we are to go on being pulled up in a constant state

of horror and astonishment, as we have been for the last week, the

sooner we’re out o’ this island the better, notwithstanding the

yams and lemonade, and pork and plums!”

Peterkin’s remark was followed by a repetition of the cry, louder

than before.

“It comes from one of these islands,” said Jack.

“It must be the ghost of a jackass, then,” said Peterkin, “for I

never heard anything so like.”

We all turned our eyes towards the cluster of islands, where, on

the largest, we observed curious objects moving on the shore.

“Soldiers they are, - that’s flat!” cried Peterkin, gazing at them

in the utmost amazement.

And, in truth, Peterkin’s remark seemed to me to be correct; for,

at the distance from which we saw them, they appeared to be an army

of soldiers. There they stood, rank and file, in lines and in

squares, marching and countermarching, with blue coats and white

trousers. While we were looking at them, the dreadful cry came

again over the water, and Peterkin suggested that it must be a

regiment sent out to massacre the natives in cold blood. At this

remark Jack laughed and said, -

“Why, Peterkin, they are penguins!”

“Penguins?” repeated Peterkin.

“Ay, penguins, Peterkin, penguins, - nothing more or less than big

sea-birds, as you shall see one of these days, when we pay them a

visit in our boat, which I mean to set about building the moment we

return to our bower.”

“So, then, our dreadful yelling ghosts and our murdering army of

soldiers,” remarked Peterkin, “have dwindled down to penguins, -

big sea-birds! Very good. Then I propose that we continue our

journey as fast as possible, lest our island should be converted

into a dream before we get completely round it.”

Now, as we continued on our way, I pondered much over this new

discovery, and the singular appearance of these birds, of which

Jack could only give us a very slight and vague account; and I

began to long to commence to our boat, in order that we might go

and inspect them more narrowly. But by degrees these thoughts left

me, and I began to be much taken up again with the interesting

peculiarities of the country which we were passing through.

The second night we passed in a manner somewhat similar to the

first, at about two-thirds of the way round the island, as we

calculated, and we hoped to sleep on the night following at our

bower. I will not here note so particularly all that we said and

saw during the course of this second day, as we did not make any

further discoveries of great importance. The shore along which we

travelled, and the various parts of the woods through which we

passed, were similar to those which have been already treated of.

There were one or two observations that we made, however, and these

were as follows:-

We saw that, while many of the large fruit-bearing trees grew only

in the valleys, and some of them only near the banks of the

streams, where the soil was peculiarly rich, the cocoa-nut palm

grew in every place whatsoever, - not only on the hill sides, but

also on the sea shore, and even, as has been already stated, on the

coral reef itself, where the soil, if we may use the name, was

nothing better than loose sand mingled with broken shells and coral

rock. So near to the sea, too, did this useful tree grow, that in

many places its roots were washed by the spray from the breakers.

Yet we found the trees growing thus on the sands to be quite as

luxuriant as those growing in the valleys, and the fruit as good

and refreshing also. Besides this, I noticed that, on the summit

of the high mountain, which we once more ascended at a different

point from our first ascent, were found abundance of shells and

broken coral formations, which Jack and I agreed proved either that

this island must have once been under the sea, or that the sea must

once have been above the island. In other words, that as shells

and coral could not possibly climb to the mountain top, they must

have been washed upon it while the mountain top was on a level with

the sea. We pondered this very much; and we put to ourselves the

question, “What raised the island to its present height above the

sea?” But to this we could by no means give to ourselves a

satisfactory reply. Jack thought it might have been blown up by a

volcano; and Peterkin said he thought it must have jumped up of its

own accord! We also noticed, what had escaped us before, that the

solid rocks of which the island was formed were quite different

from the live coral rocks on the shore, where the wonderful little

insects were continually working. They seemed, indeed, to be of

the sauce material, - a substance like limestone; but, while the

coral rocks were quite full of minute cells in which the insects

lived, the other rocks inland were hard and solid, without the

appearance of cells at all. Our thoughts and conversations on this

subject were sometimes so profound that Peterkin said we should

certainly get drowned in them at last, even although we were such

good divers! Nevertheless we did not allow his pleasantry on this

and similar points to deter us from making our notes and

observations as we went along.

We found several more droves of hogs in the woods, but abstained

from killing any of them, having more than sufficient for our

present necessities. We saw also many of their footprints in this

neighbourhood. Among these we also observed the footprints of a

smaller animal, which we examined with much care, but could form no

certain opinion as to them. Peterkin thought they were those of a

little dog, but Jack and I thought differently. We became very

curious on this matter, the more so that we observed these footprints to lie scattered about in one locality, as if the animal

which had made them was wandering round about in a very irregular

manner, and without any object in view. Early in the forenoon of

our third day we observed these footprints to be much more numerous

than ever, and in one particular spot they diverged off into the

woods in a regular beaten track, which was, however, so closely

beset with bushes, that we pushed through it with difficulty. We

had now become so anxious to find out what animal this was, and

where it went to, that we determined to follow the track, and, if

possible, clear up the mystery. Peterkin said, in a bantering

tone, that he was sure it would be cleared up as usual in some

frightfully simple way, and prove to be no mystery at all!

The beaten track seemed much too large to have been formed by the

animal itself, and we concluded that some larger animal had made

it, and that the smaller one made use of it. But everywhere the

creeping plants and tangled bushes crossed our path, so that we

forced our way along with some difficulty. Suddenly, as we came

upon an open space, we heard a faint cry, and observed a black

animal standing in the track before us.

“A wild-cat!” cried Jack, fitting an arrow to his bow, and

discharging it so hastily that he missed the animal, and hit the

earth about half a foot to one side of it. To our surprise the

wild-cat did not fly, but walked slowly towards the arrow, and

snuffed at it.

“That’s the most comical wild-cat I ever saw!” cried Jack.

“It’s a tame wild-cat, I think,” said Peterkin, levelling his spear

to make a charge.

“Stop!” cried I, laying my hand on his shoulder; “I do believe the

poor beast is blind. See, it strikes against the branches as it

walks along. It must be a very old one;” and I hastened towards

it.

“Only think,” said Peterkin, with a suppressed laugh, “of a

superannuated wild-cat!”

We now found that the poor cat was not only blind, or nearly so,

but extremely deaf, as it did not hear our footsteps until we were

quite close behind it. Then it sprang round, and, putting up its

back and tail, while the black hair stood all on end, uttered a

hoarse mew and a fuff.

“Poor thing,” said Peterkin, gently extending his hand, and

endeavouring to pat the cat’s head. “Poor pussy; chee, chee, chee;

puss, puss, puss; cheetie pussy!”

No sooner did the cat hear these sounds than all signs of anger

fled, and, advancing eagerly to Peterkin, it allowed itself to be

stroked, and rubbed itself against his legs, purring loudly all the

time, and showing every symptom of the most extreme delight.

“It’s no more a wild cat than I am!” cried Peterkin, taking it in

his arms. “It’s quite tame. Poor pussy, cheetie pussy!”

We now crowded around Peterkin, and were not a little surprised,

and, to say truth, a good deal affected, by the sight of the poor

animal’s excessive joy. It rubbed its head against Peterkin’s

cheek, licked his chin, and thrust its head almost violently into

his neck, while it purred more loudly than I ever heard a cat purr

before, and appeared to be so much overpowered by its feelings,

that it occasionally mewed and purred almost in the same breath.

Such demonstrations of joy and affection led us at once to conclude

that this poor cat must have known man before, and we conjectured

that it had been left either accidentally or by design on the

island many years ago, and was now evincing its extreme joy at

meeting once more with human beings. While we were fondling the

cat and talking about it, Jack glanced round the open space in the

midst of which we stood.

“Hallo!” exclaimed he; “this looks something like a clearing. The

axe has been at work here. Just look at these tree-stumps.”

We now turned to examine these, and, without doubt, we found trees

that had been cut down here and there, also stumps and broken

branches; all of which, however, were completely covered over with

moss, and bore evidence of having been in this condition for some

years. No human footprints were to be seen, either on the track

or among the bushes; but those of the cat were found everywhere.

We now determined to follow up the track as far as it went, and

Peterkin put the cat down; but it seemed to be so weak, and mewed

so very pitifully, that he took it up again and carried it in his

arms, where, in a few minutes, it fell sound asleep.

About ten yards farther on, the felled trees became more numerous,

and the track, diverging to the right, followed for a short space

the banks of a stream. Suddenly we came to a spot where once must

have been a rude bridge, the stones of which were scattered in the

stream, and those on each bank entirely covered over with moss. In

silent surprise and expectancy we continued to advance, and, a few

yards farther on, beheld, under the shelter of some bread-fruit

trees, a small hut or cottage. I cannot hope to convey to my

readers a very correct idea of the feelings that affected us on

witnessing this unexpected sight. We stood for a long time in

silent wonder, for there was a deep and most melancholy stillness

about the place that quite overpowered us; and when we did at

length speak, it was in subdued whispers, as if we were surrounded

by some awful or supernatural influence. Even Peterkin’s voice,

usually so quick and lively on all occasions, was hushed now; for

there was a dreariness about this silent, lonely, uninhabited

cottage, - so strange in its appearance, so far away from the usual

dwellings of man, so old, decayed, and deserted in its aspect, -

that fell upon our spirits like a thick cloud, and blotted out as

with a pall the cheerful sunshine that had filled us since the

commencement of our tour round the island.

The hut or cottage was rude and simple in its construction. It was

not more than twelve feet long by ten feet broad, and about seven

or eight feet high. It had one window, or rather a small frame in

which a window might, perhaps, once have been, but which was now

empty. The door was exceedingly low, and formed of rough boards,

and the roof was covered with broad cocoa-nut and plantain leaves.

But every part of it was in a state of the utmost decay. Moss and

green matter grew in spots all over it. The woodwork was quite

perforated with holes; the roof had nearly fallen in, and appeared

to be prevented from doing so altogether by the thick matting of

creeping-plants and the interlaced branches which years of neglect

had allowed to cover it almost entirely; while the thick, luxuriant

branches of the bread-fruit and other trees spread above it, and

flung a deep, sombre shadow over the spot, as if to guard it from

the heat and the light of day. We conversed long and in whispers

about this strange habitation ere we ventured to approach it; and

when at length we did so it was, at least on my part, with feelings

of awe.

At first Jack endeavoured to peep in at the window, but from the

deep shadow of the trees already mentioned, and the gloom within,

he could not clearly discern objects; so we lifted the latch and

pushed open the door. We observed that the latch was made of iron,

and almost eaten away with rust. In the like condition were also

the hinges, which creaked as the door swung back. On entering, we

stood still and gazed around us, while we were much impressed with

the dreary stillness of the room. But what we saw there surprised

and shocked us not a little. There was no furniture in the

apartment save a little wooden stool and an iron pot, the latter

almost eaten through with rust. In the corner farthest from the

door was a low bedstead, on which lay two skeletons, imbedded in a

little heap of dry dust. With beating hearts we went forward to

examine them. One was the skeleton of a man, the other that of a

dog, which was extended close beside that of the man, with its head

resting on his bosom

Now we were very much concerned about this discovery, and could

scarce refrain from tears on beholding these sad remains. After

some time, we began to talk about what we had seen, and to examine

in and around the hut, in order to discover some clue to the name

or history of this poor man, who had thus died in solitude, with

none to mourn his loss save his cat and his faithful dog. But we

found nothing, - neither a book nor a scrap of paper. We found,

however, the decayed remnants of what appeared to have been

clothing, and an old axe. But none of these things bore marks of

any kind; and, indeed, they were so much decayed as to convince us

that they had lain in the condition in which we found them for many

years.

This discovery now accounted to us for the tree stump at the top of

the mountain with the initials cut on it; also for the patch of

sugar-cane and other traces of man which we had met with in the

course of our rambles over the island. And we were much saddened

by the reflection that the lot of this poor wanderer might possibly

be our own, after many years’ residence on the island, unless we

should be rescued by the visit of some vessel or the arrival of

natives. Having no clue whatever to account for the presence of

this poor human being in such a lonely spot, we fell to

conjecturing what could have brought him there. I was inclined to

think that he must have been a shipwrecked sailor, whose vessel had

been lost here, and all the crew been drowned except himself and

his dog and cat. But Jack thought it more likely that he had run

away from his vessel, and had taken the dog and cat to keep him

company. We were also much occupied in our minds with the

wonderful difference between the cat and the dog. For here we saw

that while the one perished, like a loving friend, by its master’s

side, with its head resting on his bosom, the other had sought to

sustain itself by prowling abroad in the forest, and had lived in

solitude to a good old age. However, we did not conclude from this

that the cat was destitute of affection, for we could not forget

its emotions on first meeting with us; but we saw from this, that

the dog had a great deal more of generous love in its nature than

the cat, because it not only found it impossible to live after the

death of its master, but it must needs, when it came to die, crawl

to his side and rest its head upon his lifeless breast.

While we were thinking on these things, and examining into

everything about the room, we were attracted by an exclamation from

Peterkin.

“I say, Jack,” said he, “here is something that will be of use to

us.”

“What is it?” said Jack, hastening across the room.

“An old pistol,” replied Peterkin, holding up the weapon, which he

had just pulled from under a heap of broken wood and rubbish that

lay in a corner.

“That, indeed, might have been useful,” said Jack, examining it,

“if we had any powder; but I suspect the bow and the sling will

prove more serviceable.”

“True, I forgot that,” said Peterkin; “but we may as well take it

with us, for the flint will serve to strike fire with when the sun

does not shine.”

After having spent more than an hour at this place without

discovering anything of further interest, Peterkin took up the old

cat, which had lain very contentedly asleep on the stool whereon he

had placed it, and we prepared to take our departure. In leaving

the hut, Jack stumbled heavily against the door-post, which was so

much decayed as to break across, and the whole fabric of the hut

seemed ready to tumble about our ears. This put into our heads

that we might as well pull it down, and so form a mound over the

skeleton. Jack, therefore, with his axe, cut down the other door-post, which, when it was done, brought the whole hut in ruins to

the ground, and thus formed a grave to the bones of the poor

recluse and his dog. Then we left the spot, having brought away

the iron pot, the pistol, and the old axe, as they might be of much

use to us hereafter.

During the rest of this day we pursued our journey, and examined

the other end of the large valley, which we found to be so much

alike to the parts already described, that I shall not recount the

particulars of what we saw in this place. I may, however, remark,

that we did not quite recover our former cheerful spirits until we

arrived at our bower, which we did late in the evening, and found

everything just in the same condition as we had left it three days

before.

CHAPTER XII.

Something wrong with the tank - Jack’s wisdom and Peterkin’s

impertinence - Wonderful behaviour of a crab - Good wishes for

those who dwell far from the sea - Jack commences to build a little

boat.

REST is sweet as well for the body as for the mind. During my long

experience, amid the vicissitudes of a chequered life, I have found

that periods of profound rest at certain intervals, in addition to

the ordinary hours of repose, are necessary to the wellbeing of

man. And the nature as well as the period of this rest varies,

according to the different temperaments of individuals, and the

peculiar circumstances in which they may chance to be placed. To

those who work with their minds, bodily labour is rest. To those

who labour with the body, deep sleep is rest. To the downcast, the

weary, and the sorrowful, joy and peace are rest. Nay, further, I

think that to the gay, the frivolous, the reckless, when sated with

pleasures that cannot last, even sorrow proves to be rest of a

kind, although, perchance, it were better that I should call it

relief than rest. There is, indeed, but one class of men to whom

rest is denied. There is no rest to the wicked. At this I do but

hint, however, as I treat not of that rest which is spiritual, but,

more particularly, of that which applies to the mind and to the

body.

Of this rest we stood much in need on our return home, and we found

it exceedingly sweet, when we indulged in it, after completing the

journey just related. It had not, indeed, been a very long

journey, nevertheless we had pursued it so diligently that our

frames were not a little prostrated. Our minds were also very much

exhausted in consequence of the many surprises, frequent alarms,

and much profound thought, to which they had been subjected; so

that when we lay down on the night of our return under the shelter

of the bower, we fell immediately into very deep repose. I can

state this with much certainty, for Jack afterwards admitted the

fact, and Peterkin, although he stoutly denied it, I heard snoring

loudly at least two minutes after lying down. In this condition we

remained all night and the whole of the following day without

awaking once, or so much as moving our positions. When we did

awake it was near sunset, and we were all in such a state of

lassitude that we merely rose to swallow a mouthful of food. As

Peterkin remarked, in the midst of a yawn, we took breakfast at

tea-time, and then went to bed again, where we lay till the

following forenoon.

After this we arose very greatly refreshed, but much alarmed lest

we had lost count of a day. I say we were much alarmed on this

head, for we had carefully kept count of the days since we were

cast upon our island, in order that we might remember the Sabbath-day, which day we had hitherto with one accord kept as a day of

rest, and refrained from all work whatsoever. However, on

considering the subject, we all three entertained the same opinion

as to how long we had slept, and so our minds were put at ease.

We now hastened to our Water Garden to enjoy a bathe, and to see

how did the animals which I had placed in the tank. We found the

garden more charming, pelucid, and inviting than ever, and Jack and

I plunged into its depth, and gambolled among its radiant coral

groves; while Peterkin wallowed at the surface, and tried

occasionally to kick us as we passed below. Having dressed, I then

hastened to the tank; but what was my surprise and grief to find

nearly all the animals dead, and the water in a putrid condition!

I was greatly distressed at this, and wondered what could be the

cause of it.

“Why, you precious humbug,” said Peterkin, coming up to me, “how

could you expect it to be otherwise? When fishes are accustomed to

live in the Pacific Ocean, how can you expect them to exist in a

hole like that?”

“Indeed, Peterkin,” I replied, “there seems to be truth in what you

say. Nevertheless, now I think of it, there must be some error in

your reasoning; for, if I put in but a few very small animals, they

will bear the same proportion to this pond that the millions of

fish bear to the ocean.”

“I say, Jack,” cried Peterkin, waving his hand, “come here, like a

good fellow. Ralph is actually talking philosophy. Do come to our

assistance, for he’s out o’ sight beyond me already!”

“What’s the matter?” inquired Jack, coming up, while he endeavoured

to scrub his long hair dry with a towel of cocoa-nut cloth.

I repeated my thoughts to Jack, who, I was happy to find, quite

agreed with me. “Your best plan,” he said, “will be to put very

few animals at first into your tank, and add more as you find it

will bear them. And look here,” he added, pointing to the sides of

the tank, which, for the space of two inches above the water-level,

were incrusted with salt, “you must carry your philosophy a little

farther, Ralph. That water has evaporated so much that it is too

salt for anything to live in. You will require to add FRESH water

now and then, in order to keep it at the same degree of saltness as

the sea.”

“Very true, Jack, that never struck me before,” said I.

“And, now I think of it,” continued Jack, “it seems to me that the

surest way of arranging your tank so as to get it to keep pure and

in good condition, will be to imitate the ocean in it. In fact

make it a miniature Pacific. I don’t see how you can hope to

succeed unless you do that.”

“Most true,” said I, pondering what my companion said. “But I fear

that that will be very difficult.”

“Not at all,” cried Jack, rolling his towel up into a ball, and

throwing it into the face of Peterkin, who had been grinning and

winking at him during the last five minutes. “Not at all. Look

here. There is water of a certain saltness in the sea; well, fill

your tank with sea water, and keep it at that saltness by marking

the height at which the water stands on the sides. When it

evaporates a little, pour in FRESH water from the brook till it

comes up to the mark, and then it will be right, for the salt does

not evaporate with the water. Then, there’s lots of sea-weed in

the sea; - well, go and get one or two bits of sea-weed, and put

them into your tank. Of course the weed must be alive, and growing

to little stones; or you can chip a bit off the rocks with the weed

sticking to it. Then, if you like, you can throw a little sand and

gravel into your tank, and the thing’s complete.”

“Nay, not quite,” said Peterkin, who had been gravely attentive to

this off-hand advice, “not quite; you must first make three little

men to dive in it before it can be said to be perfect, and that

would be rather difficult, I fear, for two of them would require to

be philosophers. But hallo! what’s this? I say, Ralph, look here.

There’s one o’ your crabs up to something uncommon. It’s

performing the most remarkable operation for a crab I ever saw, -

taking off its coat, I do believe, before going to bed!”

We hastily stooped over the tank, and certainly were not a little

amused at the conduct of one of the crabs which still survived it

companions. It was one of the common small crabs, like to those

that are found running about everywhere on the coasts of England.

While we gazed at it, we observed its back to split away from the

lower part of its body, and out of the gap thus formed came a soft

lump which moved and writhed unceasingly. This lump continued to

increase in size until it appeared like a bunch of crab’s legs:

and, indeed, such it proved in a very few minutes to be; for the

points of the toes were at length extricated from this hole in its

back, the legs spread out, the body followed, and the crab walked

away quite entire, even to the points of its nipper-claws, leaving

a perfectly entire shell behind it, so that, when we looked, it

seemed as though there were two complete crabs instead of one!

“Well!” exclaimed Peterkin, drawing a long breath, “I’ve HEARD of a

man jumping out of his skin and sitting down in his skeleton in

order to cool himself, but I never expected to SEE a crab do it!”

We were, in truth, much amazed at this spectacle, and the more so

when we observed that the new crab was larger than the crab that it

came out of. It was also quite soft, but by next morning its skin

had hardened into a good shell. We came thus to know that crabs

grow in this way, and not by the growing of their shells, as we had

always thought before we saw this wonderful operation.

Now I considered well the advice which Jack had given me about

preparing my tank, and the more I thought of it, the more I came to

regard it as very sound and worthy of being acted on. So I

forthwith put his plan in execution, and found it to answer

excellently well, indeed much beyond my expectation; for I found

that after a little experience had taught me the proper proportion

of sea-weed and animals to put into a certain amount of water, the

tank needed no farther attendance; and, moreover, I did not require

ever afterwards to renew or change the sea-water, but only to add a

very little fresh water from the brook, now and then, as the other

evaporated. I therefore concluded that if I had been suddenly

conveyed, along with my tank, into some region where there was no

salt sea at all, my little sea and my sea-fish would have continued

to thrive and to prosper notwithstanding. This made me greatly to

desire that those people in the world who live far inland might

know of my wonderful tank, and, by having materials like to those

of which it was made conveyed to them, thus be enabled to watch the

habits of those most mysterious animals that reside in the sea, and

examine with their own eyes the wonders of the great deep.

For many days after this, while Peterkin and Jack were busily

employed in building a little boat out of the curious natural

planks of the chestnut tree, I spent much of my time in examining

with the burning-glass the marvellous operations that were

constantly going on in my tank. Here I saw those anemones which

cling, like little red, yellow, and green blobs of jelly, to the

rocks, put forth, as it were, a multitude of arms and wait till

little fish or other small animalcules unwarily touched them, when

they would instantly seize them, fold arm after arm around their

victims, and so engulf them in their stomachs. Here I saw the

ceaseless working of those little coral insects whose efforts have

encrusted the islands of the Pacific with vast rocks, and

surrounded them with enormous reefs. And I observed that many of

these insects, though extremely minute, were very beautiful, coming

out of their holes in a circle of fine threads, and having the form

of a shuttle-cock. Here I saw curious little barnacles opening a

hole in their backs and constantly putting out a thin feathery

hand, with which, I doubt not, they dragged their food into their

mouths. Here, also, I saw those crabs which have shells only on

the front of their bodies, but no shell whatever on their

remarkably tender tails, so that, in order to find a protection to

them, they thrust them into the empty shells of wilks, or some such

fish, and when they grow too big for one, change into another.

But, most curious of all, I saw an animal which had the wonderful

power, when it became ill, of casting its stomach and its teeth

away from it, and getting an entirely new set in the course of a

few months! All this I saw, and a great deal more, by means of my

tank and my burning-glass, but I refrain from setting down more

particulars here, as I have still much to tell of the adventures

that befell us while we remained on this island.

CHAPTER XIII.

Notable discovery at the spouting cliffs - The mysterious green

monster explained - We are thrown into unutterable terror by the

idea that Jack is drowned - The Diamond Cave.

“COME, Jack,” cried Peterkin, one morning about three weeks after

our return from our long excursion, “let’s be jolly to-day, and do

something vigorous. I’m quite tired of hammering and hammering,

hewing and screwing, cutting and butting, at that little boat of

ours, that seems as hard to build as Noah’s ark; let us go on an

excursion to the mountain top, or have a hunt after the wild ducks,

or make a dash at the pigs. I’m quite flat - flat as bad ginger-beer - flat as a pancake; in fact, I want something to rouse me, to

toss me up, as it were. Eh! what do you say to it?”

“Well,” answered Jack, throwing down the axe with which he was just

about to proceed towards the boat, “if that’s what you want, I

would recommend you to make an excursion to the water-spouts; the

last one we had to do with tossed you up a considerable height,

perhaps the next will send you higher, who knows, if you’re at all

reasonable or moderate in your expectations!”

“Jack, my dear boy,” said Peterkin, gravely, “you are really

becoming too fond of jesting. It’s a thing I don’t at all approve

of, and if you don’t give it up, I fear that, for our mutual good,

we shall have to part.”

“Well, then, Peterkin,” replied Jack, with a smile, “what would you

have?”

“Have?” said Peterkin, “I would HAVE nothing. I didn’t say I

wanted to HAVE; I said that I wanted to DO.”

“By the by,” said I, interrupting their conversation, “I am

reminded by this that we have not yet discovered the nature of yon

curious appearance that we saw near the water-spouts, on our

journey round the island. Perhaps it would be well to go for that

purpose.”

“Humph!” ejaculated Peterkin, “I know the nature of it well

enough.”

“What was it?” said I.

“It was of a MYSTERIOUS nature to be sure!” said he, with a wave of

his hand, while he rose from the log on which he had been sitting,

and buckled on his belt, into which he thrust his enormous club.

“Well then, let us away to the water-spouts,” cried Jack, going up

to the bower for his bow and arrows; “and bring your spear,

Peterkin. It may be useful.”

We now, having made up our minds to examine into this matter,

sallied forth eagerly in the direction of the water-spout rocks,

which, as I have before mentioned, were not far from our present

place of abode. On arriving there we hastened down to the edge of

the rocks, and gazed over into the sea, where we observed the pale-green object still distinctly visible, moving its tail slowly to

and fro in the water.

“Most remarkable!” said Jack.

“Exceedingly curious,” said I.

“Beats everything!” said Peterkin.

“Now, Jack,” he added, “you made such a poor figure in your last

attempt to stick that object, that I would advise you to let me try

it. If it has got a heart at all, I’ll engage to send my spear

right through the core of it; if it hasn’t got a heart, I’ll send

it through the spot where its heart ought to be.”

“Fire away, then, my boy,” replied Jack with a laugh.

Peterkin immediately took the spear, poised it for a second or two

above his head, then darted it like an arrow into the sea. Down it

went straight into the centre of the green object, passed quite

through it, and came up immediately afterwards, pure and unsullied,

while the mysterious tail moved quietly as before!

“Now,” said Peterkin, gravely, “that brute is a heartless monster;

I’ll have nothing more to do with it.”

“I’m pretty sure now,” said Jack, “that it is merely a phosphoric

light; but I must say I’m puzzled at its staying always in that

exact spot.”

I also was much puzzled, and inclined to think with Jack that it

must be phosphoric light; of which luminous appearance we had seen

much while on our voyage to these seas. “But,” said I, “there is

nothing to hinder us from diving down to it, now that we are sure

it is not a shark.”

“True,” returned Jack, stripping off his clothes; “I’ll go down,

Ralph, as I’m better at diving than you are. Now then, Peterkin,

out o’ the road!” Jack stepped forward, joined his hands above his

head, bent over the rocks, and plunged into the sea. For a second

or two the spray caused by his dive hid him from view, then the

water became still, and we saw him swimming far down in the midst

of the green object. Suddenly he sank below it, and vanished

altogether from our sight! We gazed anxiously down at the spot

where he had disappeared, for nearly a minute, expecting every

moment to see him rise again for breath; but fully a minute passed,

and still he did not reappear. Two minutes passed! and then a

flood of alarm rushed in upon my soul, when I considered that

during all my acquaintance with him, Jack had never stayed

underwater more than a minute at a time; indeed seldom so long.

“Oh, Peterkin!” I said, in a voice that trembled with increasing

anxiety, “something has happened. It is more than three minutes

now!” But Peterkin did not answer and I observed that he was

gazing down into the water with a look of intense fear mingled with

anxiety, while his face was overspread with a deadly paleness.

Suddenly he sprang to his feet and rushed about in a frantic state,

wringing his hands, and exclaiming, “Oh, Jack, Jack! he is gone!

It must have been a shark, and he is gone for ever!”

For the next five minutes I know not what I did. The intensity of

my feelings almost bereft me of my senses. But I was recalled to

myself by Peterkin seizing me by the shoulder and staring wildly

into my face, while he exclaimed, “Ralph! Ralph! perhaps he has

only fainted. Dive for him, Ralph!”

It seemed strange that this did not occur to me sooner. In a

moment I rushed to the edge of the rocks, and, without waiting to

throw off my garments, was on the point to spring into the waves,

when I observed something black rising up through the green object.

In another moment Jack’s head rose to the surface, and he gave a

wild shout, flinging back the spray from his locks, as was his wont

after a dive. Now we were almost as much amazed at seeing him reappear, well and strong, as we had been at first at his non-appearance; for, to the best of our judgment, he had been nearly

ten minutes under water, perhaps longer, and it required no

exertion of our reason to convince us that this was utterly

impossible for mortal man to do and retain his strength and

faculties. It was therefore with a feeling akin to superstitious

awe that I held down my hand and assisted him to clamber up the

steep rocks. But no such feeling affected Peterkin. No sooner did

Jack gain the rocks and seat himself on one, panting for breath,

than he threw his arms round his neck, and burst into a flood of

tears. “Oh, Jack, Jack!” said he, “where were you? What kept you

so long?”

After a few moments Peterkin became composed enough to sit still

and listen to Jack’s explanation, although he could not restrain

himself from attempting to wink every two minutes at me, in order

to express his joy at Jack’s safety. I say he attempted to wink,

but I am bound to add that he did not succeed, for his eyes were so

much swollen with weeping, that his frequent attempts only resulted

in a series of violent and altogether idiotical contortions of the

face, that were very far from expressing what he intended.

However, I knew what the poor fellow meant by it, so I smiled to

him in return, and endeavoured to make believe that he was winking.

“Now, lads,” said Jack, when we were composed enough to listen to

him, “yon green object is not a shark; it is a stream of light

issuing from a cave in the rocks. Just after I made my dive, I

observed that this light came from the side of the rock above which

we are now sitting; so I struck out for it, and saw an opening into

some place or other that appeared to be luminous within. For one

instant I paused to think whether I ought to venture. Then I made

up my mind, and dashed into it. For you see, Peterkin, although I

take some time to tell this, it happened in the space of a few

seconds, so that I knew I had wind enough in me to serve to bring

me out o’ the hole and up to the surface again. Well, I was just

on the point of turning, - for I began to feel a little

uncomfortable in such a place, - when it seemed to me as if there

was a faint light right above me. I darted upwards, and found my

head out of water. This relieved me greatly, for I now felt that I

could take in air enough to enable me to return the way I came.

Then it all at once occurred to me that I might not be able to find

the way out again; but, on glancing downwards, my mind was put

quite at rest by seeing the green light below me streaming into the

cave, just like the light that we had seen streaming out of it,

only what I now saw was much brighter.

“At first I could scarcely see anything as I gazed around me, it

was so dark; but gradually my eyes became accustomed to it, and I

found that I was in a huge cave, part of the walls of which I

observed on each side of me. The ceiling just above me was also

visible, and I fancied that I could perceive beautiful glittering

objects there, but the farther end of the cave was shrouded in

darkness. While I was looking around me in great wonder, it came

into my head that you two would think I was drowned; so I plunged

down through the passage again in a great hurry, rose to the

surface, and - here I am!”

When Jack concluded his recital of what he had seen in this

remarkable cave, I could not rest satisfied till I had dived down

to see it; which I did, but found it so dark, as Jack had said,

that I could scarcely see anything. When I returned, we had a long

conversation about it, during which I observed that Peterkin had a

most lugubrious expression on his countenance.

“What’s the matter, Peterkin?” said I.

“The matter?” he replied. “It’s all very well for you two to be

talking away like mermaids about the wonders of this cave, but you

know I must be content to hear about it, while you are enjoying

yourselves down there like mad dolphins. It’s really too bad.”

“I’m very sorry for you, Peterkin, indeed I am,” said Jack, “but we

cannot help you. If you would only learn to dive - “

“Learn to fly, you might as well say!” retorted Peterkin, in a very

sulky tone.

“If you would only consent to keep still,” said I, “we would take

you down with us in ten seconds.”

“Hum!” returned Peterkin; “suppose a salamander was to propose to

you ‘only to keep still,’ and he would carry you through a blazing

fire in a few seconds, what would you say?”

We both laughed and shook our heads, for it was evident that

nothing was to be made of Peterkin in the water. But we could not

rest satisfied till we had seen more of this cave; so, after

further consultation, Jack and I determined to try if we could take

down a torch with us, and set fire to it in the cavern. This we

found to be an undertaking of no small difficulty; but we

accomplished it at last by the following means:- First, we made a

torch of a very inflammable nature out of the bark of a certain

tree, which we cut into strips, and, after twisting, cemented

together with a kind of resin or gum, which we also obtained from

another tree; neither of which trees, however, was known by name to

Jack. This, when prepared, we wrapped up in a great number of

plies of cocoa-nut cloth, so that we were confident it could not

get wet during the short time it should be under water. Then we

took a small piece of the tinder, which we had carefully treasured

up lest we should require it, as before said, when the sun should

fail us; also, we rolled up some dry grass and a few chips, which,

with a little bow and drill, like those described before, we made

into another bundle, and wrapped it up in cocoa-nut cloth. When

all was ready we laid aside our garments, with the exception of our

trousers, which, as we did not know what rough scraping against the

rocks we might be subjected to, we kept on.

Then we advanced to the edge of the rocks, Jack carrying one

bundle, with the torch; I the other, with the things for producing

fire.

“Now don’t weary for us, Peterkin, should we be gone some time,”

said Jack; “we’ll be sure to return in half-an-hour at the very

latest, however interesting the cave should be, that we may relieve

your mind.”

“Farewell!” said Peterkin, coming up to us with a look of deep but

pretended solemnity, while he shook hands and kissed each of us on

the cheek. “Farewell! and while you are gone I shall repose my

weary limbs under the shelter of this bush, and meditate on the

changefulness of all things earthly, with special reference to the

forsaken condition of a poor shipwrecked sailor boy!” So saying,

Peterkin waved his hand, turned from us, and cast himself upon the

ground with a look of melancholy resignation, which was so well

feigned, that I would have thought it genuine had he not

accompanied it with a gentle wink. We both laughed, and, springing

from the rocks together, plunged head first into the sea.

We gained the interior of the submarine cave without difficulty,

and, on emerging from the waves, supported ourselves for some time

by treading-water, while we held the two bundles above our heads.

This we did in order to let our eyes become accustomed to the

obscurity. Then, when we could see sufficiently, we swam to a

shelving rock, and landed in safety. Having wrung the water from

our trousers, and dried ourselves as well as we could under the

circumstances, we proceeded to ignite the torch. This we

accomplished without difficulty in a few minutes; and no sooner did

it flare up than we were struck dumb with the wonderful objects

that were revealed to our gaze. The roof of the cavern just above

us seemed to be about ten feet high, but grew higher as it receded

into the distance, until it was lost in darkness. It seemed to be

made of coral, and was supported by massive columns of the same

material. Immense icicles (as they appeared to us) hung from it in

various places. These, however, were formed, not of ice, but of a

species of limestone, which seemed to flow in a liquid form towards

the point of each, where it became solid. A good many drops fell,

however, to the rock below, and these formed little cones, which

rose to meet the points above. Some of them had already met, and

thus we saw how the pillars were formed, which at first seemed to

us as if they had been placed there by some human architect to

support the roof. As we advanced farther in, we saw that the floor

was composed of the same material as the pillars; and it presented

the curious appearance of ripples, such as are formed on water when

gently ruffled by the wind. There were several openings on either

hand in the walls, that seemed to lead into other caverns; but

these we did not explore at this time. We also observed that the

ceiling was curiously marked in many places, as if it were the

fret-work of a noble cathedral; and the walls, as well as the roof,

sparkled in the light of our torch, and threw back gleams and

flashes, as if they were covered with precious stones. Although we

proceeded far into this cavern, we did not come to the end of it;

and we were obliged to return more speedily than we would otherwise

have done, as our torch was nearly expended. We did not observe

any openings in the roof, or any indications of places whereby

light might enter; but near the entrance to the cavern stood an

immense mass of pure white coral rock, which caught and threw back

the little light that found an entrance through the cave’s mouth,

and thus produced, we conjectured, the pale-green object which had

first attracted our attention. We concluded, also, that the

reflecting power of this rock was that which gave forth the dim

light that faintly illumined the first part of the cave.

Before diving through the passage again we extinguished the small

piece of our torch that remained, and left it in a dry spot;

conceiving that we might possibly stand in need of it, if at any

future time we should chance to wet our torch while diving into the

cavern. As we stood for a few minutes after it was out, waiting

till our eyes became accustomed to the gloom, we could not help

remarking the deep, intense stillness and the unutterable gloom of

all around us; and, as I thought of the stupendous dome above, and

the countless gems that had sparkled in the torch-light a few

minutes before, it came into my mind to consider how strange it is

that God should make such wonderful and extremely-beautiful works

never to be seen at all, except, indeed, by chance visitors such as

ourselves.

I afterwards found that there were many such caverns among the

islands of the South Seas, some of them larger and more beautiful

than the one I have just described.

“Now, Ralph, are you ready?” said Jack, in a low voice, that seemed

to echo up into the dome above.

“Quite ready.”

“Come along, then,” said he; and, plunging off the ledge of the

rock into the water, we dived through the narrow entrance. In a

few seconds we were panting on the rocks above, and receiving the

congratulations of our friend Peterkin.

CHAPTER XIV.

Strange peculiarity of the tides - Also of the twilight -

Peterkin’s remarkable conduct in embracing a little pig and killing

a big sow - Sage remarks on jesting - Also on love.

IT was quite a relief to us to breathe the pure air and to enjoy

the glad sunshine after our long ramble in the Diamond Cave, as we

named it; for, although we did not stay more than half an hour

away, it seemed to us much longer. While we were dressing, and

during our walk home, we did our best to satisfy the curiosity of

poor Peterkin, who seemed to regret, with lively sincerity, his

inability to dive.

There was no help for it, however, so we condoled with him as we

best could. Had there been any great rise or fall in the tide of

these seas, we might perhaps have found it possible to take him

down with us at low water; but as the tide never rose or fell more

than eighteen inches or two feet, this was impossible.

This peculiarity of the tide - its slight rise and fall - had not

attracted our observation till some time after our residence on the

island. Neither had we observed another curious circumstance until

we had been some time there. This was the fact, that the tide rose

and fell with constant regularity, instead of being affected by the

changes of the moon as in our own country, and as it is in most

other parts of the world, - at least in all those parts with which

I am acquainted. Every day and every night, at twelve o’clock

precisely, the tide is at the full; and at six o’clock every

morning and evening it is ebb. I can speak with much confidence on

this singular circumstance, as we took particular note of it, and

never found it to alter. Of course, I must admit, we had to guess

the hour of twelve midnight, and I think we could do this pretty

correctly; but in regard to twelve noon we are quite positive,

because we easily found the highest point that the sun reached in

the sky by placing ourselves at a certain spot whence we observed

the sharp summit of a cliff resting against the sky, just where the

sun passed.

Jack and I were surprised that we had not noticed this the first

few days of our residence here, and could only account for it by

our being so much taken up with the more obvious wonders of our

novel situation. I have since learned, however, that this want of

observation is a sad and very common infirmity of human nature,

there being hundreds of persons before whose eyes the most

wonderful things are passing every day, who nevertheless are

totally ignorant of them. I therefore have to record my sympathy

with such persons, and to recommend to them a course of conduct

which I have now for a long time myself adopted, - namely, the

habit of forcing my attention upon ALL things that go on around me,

and of taking some degree of interest in them, whether I feel it

naturally or not. I suggest this the more earnestly, though

humbly, because I have very frequently come to know that my

indifference to a thing has generally been caused by my ignorance

in regard to it.

We had much serious conversation on this subject of the tides; and

Jack told us, in his own quiet, philosophical way, that these tides

did great good to the world in many ways, particularly in the way

of cleansing the shores of the land, and carrying off the filth

that was constantly poured into the sea there-from; which, Peterkin

suggested, was remarkably TIDY of it to do. Poor Peterkin could

never let slip an opportunity to joke, however inopportune it might

be: which at first we found rather a disagreeable propensity, as

it often interrupted the flow of very agreeable conversation; and,

indeed, I cannot too strongly record my disapprobation of this

tendency in general: but we became so used to it at last that we

found it no interruption whatever; indeed, strange to say, we came

to feel that it was a necessary part of our enjoyment (such is the

force of habit), and found the sudden outbursts of mirth, resulting

from his humorous disposition, quite natural and refreshing to us

in the midst of our more serious conversations. But I must not

misrepresent Peterkin. We often found, to our surprise, that he

knew many things which we did not; and I also observed that those

things which he learned from experience were never forgotten. From

all these things I came at length to understand that things very

opposite and dissimilar in themselves, when united, do make an

agreeable whole; as, for example, we three on this our island,

although most unlike in many things, when united, made a trio so

harmonious that I question if there ever met before such an

agreeable triumvirate. There was, indeed, no note of discord

whatever in the symphony we played together on that sweet Coral

Island; and I am now persuaded that this was owing to our having

been all tuned to the same key, namely, that of LOVE! Yes, we

loved one another with much fervency while we lived on that island;

and, for the matter of that, we love each other still.

And while I am on this subject, or rather the subject that just

preceded it - namely, the tides - I may here remark on another

curious natural phenomenon. We found that there was little or no

twilight in this island. We had a distinct remembrance of the

charming long twilight at home, which some people think the most

delightful part of the day, though for my part I have always

preferred sunrise; and when we first landed, we used to sit down on

some rocky point or eminence, at the close of our day’s work, to

enjoy the evening breeze; but no sooner had the sun sunk below the

horizon than all became suddenly dark. This rendered it necessary

that we should watch the sun when we happened to be out hunting,

for to be suddenly left in the dark while in the woods was very

perplexing, as, although the stars shone with great beauty and

brilliancy, they could not pierce through the thick umbrageous

boughs that interlaced above our heads.

But, to return: After having told all we could to Peterkin about

the Diamond Cave under Spouting Cliff, as we named the locality, we

were wending our way rapidly homewards, when a grunt and a squeal

were borne down by the land breeze to our ears.

“That’s the ticket!” was Peterkin’s remarkable exclamation, as he

started convulsively, and levelled his spear.

“Hist!” cried Jack; “these are your friends, Peterkin. They must

have come over expressly to pay you a friendly visit, for it is the

first time we have seen them on this side the island.”

“Come along!” cried Peterkin, hurrying towards the wood, while Jack

and I followed, smiling at his impatience.

Another grunt and half a dozen squeals, much louder than before,

came down the valley. At this time we were just opposite the small

vale which lay between the Valley of the Wreck and Spouting Cliff.

“I say, Peterkin,” cried Jack, in a hoarse whisper.

“Well, what is’t?”

“Stay a bit, man. These grunters are just up there on the hill

side. If you go and stand with Ralph in the lee of yon cliff, I’ll

cut round behind and drive them through the gorge, so that you’ll

have a better chance of picking out a good one. Now, mind you

pitch into a fat young pig, Peterkin,” added Jack, as he sprang

into the bushes.

“Won’t I, just!” said Peterkin, licking his lips, as we took our

station beside the cliff. “I feel quite a tender affection for

young pigs in my heart. Perhaps it would be more correct to say in

my s-.”

“There they come!” cried I, as a terrific yell from Jack sent the

whole herd screaming down the hill. Now, Peterkin, being unable to

hold back, crept a short way up a very steep grassy mound, in order

to get a better view of the hogs before they came up; and just as

he raised his head above its summit, two little pigs, which had

outrun their companions, rushed over the top with the utmost

precipitation. One of these brushed close past Peterkin’s ear; the

other, unable to arrest its headlong flight, went, as Peterkin

himself afterwards expressed it, “bash” into his arms with a sudden

squeal, which was caused more by the force of the blow than the

will of the animal, and both of them rolled violently down to the

foot of the mound. No sooner was this reached than the little pig

recovered its feet, tossed up its tail, and fled shrieking from the

spot. But I slang a large stone after it, which, being fortunately

well aimed, hit it behind the ear, and felled it to the earth.

“Capital, Ralph! that’s your sort!” cried Peterkin, who, to my

surprise and great relief, had risen to his feet. Apparently

unhurt, though much dishevelled, he rushed franticly towards the

gorge, which the yells of the hogs told us they were now

approaching. I had made up my mind that I would abstain from

killing another, as, if Peterkin should be successful, two were

more than sufficient for our wants at the present time. Suddenly

they all burst forth, - two or three little round ones in advance,

and an enormous old sow with a drove of hogs at her heels.

“Now, Peterkin,” said I, “there’s a nice little fat one; just spear

it.”

But Peterkin did not move; he allowed it to pass unharmed. I

looked at him in surprise, and saw that his lips were compressed

and his eyebrows knitted, as if he were about to fight with some

awful enemy.

“What is it?” I inquired, with some trepidation.

Suddenly he levelled his spear, darted forward, and, with a yell

that nearly froze the blood in my veins, stabbed the old sow to the

heart. Nay, so vigorously was it done that the spear went in at

one side and came out at the other!

“Oh, Peterkin!” said I, going up to him, “what have you done?”

“Done? I’ve killed their great-great-grandmother, that’s all,”

said he, looking with a somewhat awe-struck expression at the

transfixed animal.

“Hallo! what’s this?” said Jack, as he came up. “Why, Peterkin,

you must be fond of a tough chop. If you mean to eat this old hog,

she’ll try your jaws, I warrant. What possessed you to stick HER,

Peterkin?”

“Why, the fact is I want a pair of shoes.”

“What have your shoes to do with the old hog?’ said I, smiling.

“My present shoes have certainly nothing to do with her,” replied

Peterkin; “nevertheless she will have a good deal to do with my

future shoes. The fact is, when I saw you floor that pig so

neatly, Ralph, it struck me that there was little use in killing

another. Then I remembered all at once that I had long wanted some

leather or tough substance to make shoes of, and this old

grandmother seemed so tough that I just made up my mind to stick

her, and you see I’ve done it!”

“That you certainly have, Peterkin,” said Jack, as he was examining

the transfixed animal.

We now considered how we were to carry our game home, for, although

the distance was short, the hog was very heavy. At length we hit

on the plan of tying its four feet together, and passing the spear

handle between them. Jack took one end on his shoulder, I took the

other on mine, and Peterkin carried the small pig.

Thus we returned in triumph to our bower, laden, as Peterkin

remarked, with the glorious spoils of a noble hunt. As he

afterwards spoke in similarly glowing terms in reference to the

supper that followed, there is every reason to believe that we

retired that night to our leafy beds in a high state of

satisfaction.

CHAPTER XV.

Boat-building extraordinary - Peterkin tries his hand at cookery

and fails most signally - The boat finished - Curious conversation

with the cat, and other matters.

FOR many days after this Jack applied himself with unremitting

assiduity to the construction of our boat, which at length began to

look somewhat like one. But those only who have had the thing to

do can entertain a right idea of the difficulty involved in such an

undertaking, with no other implements than an axe, a bit of hoop-iron, a sail-needle, and a broken penknife. But Jack did it. He

was of, that disposition which WILL not be conquered. When he

believed himself to be acting rightly, he overcame all obstacles.

I have seen Jack, when doubtful whether what he was about to do

were right or wrong, as timid and vacillating as a little girl, -

and I honour him for it!

As this boat was a curiosity in its way, a few words here relative

to the manner of its construction may not be amiss.

I have already mentioned the chestnut tree with its wonderful

buttresses or planks. This tree, then, furnished us with the chief

part of our material. First of all Jack sought out a limb of a

tree of such a form and size as, while it should form the keel a

bend at either end should form the stem and stern posts. Such a

piece, however, was not easy to obtain, but at last he procured it,

by rooting up a small tree which had a branch growing at the proper

angle about ten feet up its stem, with two strong roots growing in

such a form as enabled him to make a flat-sterned boat. This

placed, he procured three branching roots of suitable size, which

he fitted to the keel at equal distances, thus forming three strong

ribs. Now, the squaring and shaping of these, and the cutting of

the grooves in the keel, was an easy enough matter, as it was all

work for the axe, in the use of which Jack was become wonderfully

expert; but it was quite a different affair when he came to nailing

the ribs to the keel, for we had no instrument capable of boring a

large hole, and no nails to fasten them with. We were, indeed,

much perplexed here; but Jack at length devised an instrument that

served very well. He took the remainder of our hoop-iron and beat

it into the form of a pipe or cylinder, about as thick as a man’s

finger. This he did by means of our axe and the old rusty axe we

had found at the house of the poor man at the other side of the

island. This, when made red hot, bored slowly though the timbers;

and, the better to retain the heat, Jack shut up one end of it and

filled it with sand. True, the work was very slowly done, but it

mattered not - we had little else to do. Two holes were bored in

each timber, about an inch and a half apart, and also down into the

keel, but not quite through. Into these were placed stout pegs

made of a tree called iron-wood; and, when they were hammered well

home, the timbers were as firmly fixed as if they had been nailed

with iron. The gunwales, which were very stout, were fixed in a

similar manner. But, besides the wooden nails, they were firmly

lashed to the stem and stern posts and ribs by means of a species

of cordage which we had contrived to make out of the fibrous husk

of the cocoa nut. This husk was very tough, and when a number of

the threads were joined together they formed excellent cordage. At

first we tied the different lengths together, but this was such a

clumsy and awkward complication of knots, that we contrived, by

careful interlacing of the ends together before twisting, to make

good cordage of any size or length we chose. Of course it cost us

much time and infinite labour, but Jack kept up our spirits when we

grew weary, and so all that we required was at last constructed.

Planks were now cut off the chestnut trees of about an inch thick.

These were dressed with the axe, - but clumsily, for an axe is ill

adapted for such work. Five of these planks on each side were

sufficient, and we formed the boat in a very rounded, barrel-like

shape, in order to have as little twisting of the planks as

possible; for, although we could easily bend them, we could not

easily twist them. Having no nails to rivet the planks with, we

threw aside the ordinary fashion of boat building and adopted one

of our own. The planks were therefore placed on each other’s

edges, and sewed together with the tough cordage already mentioned.

They were also thus sewed to the stem, the stern, and the keel.

Each stitch or tie was six inches apart, and was formed thus:

Three holes were bored in the upper plank and three in the lower, -

the holes being above each other, that is, in a vertical line.

Through these holes the cord was passed, and, when tied, formed a

powerful stitch of three ply. Besides this, we placed between the

edges of the planks, layers of cocoa-nut fibre, which, as it

swelled when wetted, would, we hoped, make our little vessel water-tight. But in order further to secure this end, we collected a

large quantity of pitch from the bread-fruit tree, with which, when

boiled in our old iron pot, we payed the whole of the inside of the

boat, and, while it was yet hot, placed large pieces of cocoa-nut

cloth on it, and then gave it another coat above that. Thus the

interior was covered with a tough water-tight material; while the

exterior, being uncovered, and so exposed to the swelling action of

the water, was we hoped, likely to keep the boat quite dry. I may

add that our hopes were not disappointed.

While Jack was thus engaged, Peterkin and I sometimes assisted him,

but, as our assistance was not much required, we more frequently

went a-hunting on the extensive mud-flats at the entrance of the

long valley which lay nearest to our bower. Here we found large

flocks of ducks of various kinds, some of them bearing so much

resemblance to the wild ducks of our own country that I think they

must have been the same. On these occasions we took the bow and

the sling, with both of which we were often successful, though I

must confess I was the least so. Our suppers were thus pleasantly

varied, and sometimes we had such a profusion spread out before us

that we frequently knew not with which of the dainties to begin.

I must also add, that the poor old cat which we had brought home

had always a liberal share of our good things, and so well was it

looked after, especially by Peterkin, that it recovered much of its

former strength, and seemed to improve in sight as well as hearing.

The large flat stone, or rock of coral, which stood just in front

of the entrance to our bower, was our table. On this rock we had

spread out the few articles we possessed the day we were

shipwrecked; and on the same rock, during many a day afterwards, we

spread out the bountiful supply with which we had been blessed on

our Coral Island. Sometimes we sat down at this table to a feast

consisting of hot rolls, - as Peterkin called the newly baked bread

fruit, - a roast pig, roast duck, boiled and roasted yams, cocoa

nuts, taro, and sweet potatoes; which we followed up with a dessert

of plums, apples, and plantains, - the last being a large-sized and

delightful fruit, which grew on a large shrub or tree not more than

twelve feet high, with light-green leaves of enormous length and

breadth. These luxurious feasts were usually washed down with

cocoa-nut lemonade.

Occasionally Peterkin tried to devise some new dish, - “a

conglomerate,” as he used to say; but these generally turned out

such atrocious compounds that he was ultimately induced to give up

his attempts in extreme disgust. Not forgetting, however, to point

out to Jack that his failure was a direct contradiction to the

proverb which he, Jack, was constantly thrusting down his throat,

namely, that “where there’s a will there’s a way.” For he had a

great will to become a cook, but could by no means find a way to

accomplish that end.

One day, while Peterkin and I were seated beside our table on which

dinner was spread, Jack came up from the beach, and, flinging down

his axe, exclaimed, -

“There, lads, the boat’s finished at last! so we’ve nothing to do

now but shape two pair of oars, and then we may put to sea as soon

as we like.”

This piece of news threw us into a state of great joy; for although

we were aware that the boat had been gradually getting near its

completion, it had taken so long that we did not expect it to be

quite ready for at least two or three weeks. But Jack had wrought

hard and said nothing, in order to surprise us.

“My dear fellow,” cried Peterkin, “you’re a perfect trump. But why

did you not tell us it was so nearly ready? won’t we have a jolly

sail to-morrow? eh?”

“Don’t talk so much, Peterkin,” said Jack; “and, pray, hand me a

bit of that pig.”

“Certainly, my dear,” cried Peterkin, seizing the axe; “what part

will you have? a leg, or a wing, or a piece of the breast; which?”

“A hind leg, if you please,” answered Jack; “and, pray, be so good

as to include the tail.”

“With all my heart,” said Peterkin, exchanging the axe for his

hoop-iron knife, with which he cut off the desired portion. “I’m

only too glad, my dear boy, to see that your appetite is so

wholesale; and there’s no chance whatever of its dwindling down

into re-tail again, at least in so far as this pig is concerned.

Ralph, lad, why don’t you laugh? - eh?” he added turning suddenly

to me with a severe look of inquiry.

“Laugh?” said I; “what at, Peterkin? why should I laugh?”

Both Jack and Peterkin answered this inquiry by themselves laughing

so immoderately that I was induced to believe I had missed noticing

some good joke, so I begged that it might be explained to me; but

as this only produced repeated roars of laughter, I smiled and

helped myself to another slice of plantain.

“Well, but,” continued Peterkin, “I was talking of a sail to-morrow. Can’t we have one, Jack?”

“No,” replied Jack, “we can’t have a sail, but I hope we shall have

a row, as I intend to work hard at the oars this afternoon, and, if

we can’t get them finished by sunset we’ll light our candle-nuts,

and turn them out of hands before we turn into bed.”

“Very good,” said Peterkin, tossing a lump of pork to the cat, who

received it with a mew of satisfaction. “I’ll help you, if I can.”

“Afterwards,” continued Jack, “we will make a sail out of the

cocoa-nut cloth, and rig up a mast, and then we shall be able to

sail to some of the other islands, and visit our old friends the

penguins.”

The prospect of being so soon in a position to extend our

observations to the other islands, and enjoy a sail over the

beautiful sea, afforded us much delight, and, after dinner, we set

about making the oars in good earnest. Jack went into the woods

and blocked them roughly out with the axe, and I smoothed them down

with the knife, while Peterkin remained in the bower, spinning, or,

rather, twisting some strong thick cordage with which to fasten

them to the boat.

We worked hard and rapidly, so that, when the sun went down, Jack

and I returned to the bower with four stout oars, which required

little to be done to them save a slight degree of polishing with

the knife. As we drew near we were suddenly arrested by the sound

of a voice! We were not a little surprised at this - indeed I may

almost say alarmed - for, although Peterkin was undoubtedly fond of

talking, we had never, up to this time, found him talking to

himself. We listened intently, and still heard the sound of a

voice as if in conversation. Jack motioned me to be silent, and,

advancing to the bower on tip-toe, we peeped in.

The sight that met our gaze was certainly not a little amusing. On

the top of a log which we sometimes used as a table, sat the black

cat, with a very demure expression on its countenance; and in front

of it, sitting on the ground, with his legs extended on either side

of the log, was Peterkin. At the moment we saw him he was gazing

intently into the cat’s face, with his nose about four inches from

it, - his hands being thrust into his breeches pockets.

“Cat,” said Peterkin, turning his head a little on one side, “I

love you!”

There was a pause, as if Peterkin awaited a reply to this

affectionate declaration but the cat said nothing.

“Do you hear me?” cried Peterkin, sharply. “I love you - I do.

Don’t you love me?”

To this touching appeal the cat said “Mew,” faintly.

“Ah! that’s right. You’re a jolly old rascal. Why did you not

speak at once? eh?” and Peterkin put forward his mouth and kissed

the cat on the nose!

“Yes,” continued Peterkin, after a pause, “I love you. D’you think

I’d say so if I didn’t, you black villain? I love you because I’ve

got to take care of you, and to look after you, and to think about

you, and to see that you don’t die - “

“Mew, me-a-w!” said the cat.

“Very good,” continued Peterkin, “quite true, I have no doubt; but

you’ve no right to interrupt me, sir. Hold your tongue till I have

done speaking. Moreover, cat, I love you because you came to me

the first time you ever saw me, and didn’t seem to be afraid, and

appeared to be fond of me, though you didn’t know that I wasn’t

going to kill you. Now, that was brave, that was bold, and very

jolly, old boy, and I love you for it - I do!”

Again there was a pause of a few minutes, during which the cat

looked placid, and Peterkin dropped his eyes upon its toes as if in

contemplation. Suddenly he looked up.

“Well, cat, what are you thinking about now? won’t speak? eh? Now,

tell me; don’t you think it’s a monstrous shame that these two

scoundrels, Jack and Ralph, should keep us waiting for our supper

so long?”

Here the cat arose, put up its back and stretched itself; yawned

slightly, and licked the point of Peterkin’s nose!

“Just so, old boy, you’re a clever fellow, - I really do believe

the brute understands me!” said Peterkin, while a broad grin

overspread his face, as he drew back and surveyed the cat.

At this point Jack burst into a loud fit of laughter. The cat

uttered an angry fuff and fled, while Peterkin sprang up and

exclaimed, -

“Bad luck to you, Jack! you’ve nearly made the heart jump out of my

body, you have.”

“Perhaps I have,” replied Jack, laughing, as we entered the bower,

“but, as I don’t intend to keep you or the cat any longer from your

supper, I hope that you’ll both forgive me.”

Peterkin endeavoured to turn this affair off with a laugh, but I

observed that he blushed very deeply at the time we discovered

ourselves, and he did not seem to relish any allusion to the

subject afterwards; so we refrained from remarking on it ever

after, - though it tickled us not a little at the time.

After supper we retired to rest and to dream of wonderful

adventures in our little boat, and distant voyages upon the sea.

CHAPTER XVI.

The boat launched - We visit the coral reef - The great breaker

that never goes down - Coral insects - The way in which coral

islands are made - The boat’s sail - We tax our ingenuity to form

fish-hooks - Some of the fish we saw - And a monstrous whale -

Wonderful shower of little fish - Water-spouts.

IT was a bright, clear, beautiful morning, when we first launched

our little boat and rowed out upon the placid waters of the lagoon.

Not a breath of wind ruffled the surface of the deep. Not a cloud

spotted the deep blue sky. Not a sound that was discordant broke

the stillness of the morning, although there were many sounds,

sweet, tiny, and melodious, that mingled in the universal harmony

of nature. The sun was just rising from the Pacific’s ample bosom

and tipping the mountain tops with a red glow. The sea was shining

like a sheet of glass, yet heaving with the long deep swell that,

all the world round, indicates the life of ocean; and the bright

sea-weeds and the brilliant corals shone in the depths of that

pellucid water, as we rowed over it, like rare and precious gems.

Oh! it was a sight fitted to stir the soul of man to its

profoundest depths, and, if he owned a heart at all, to lift that

heart in adoration and gratitude to the great Creator of this

magnificent and glorious universe.

At first, in the strength of our delight, we rowed hither and

thither without aim or object. But after the effervescence of our

spirits was abated, we began to look about us and to consider what

we should do.

“I vote that we row to the reef,” cried Peterkin.

“And I vote that we visit the islands within the lagoon,” said I.

“And I vote we do both,” cried Jack, “so pull away, boys.”

As I have already said, we had made four oars, but our boat was so

small that only two were necessary. The extra pair were reserved

in case any accident should happen to the others. It was therefore

only needful that two of us should row, while the third steered, by

means of an oar, and relieved the rowers occasionally.

First we landed on one of the small islands and ran all over it,

but saw nothing worthy of particular notice. Then we landed on a

larger island, on which were growing a few cocoa-nut trees. Not

having eaten anything that morning, we gathered a few of the nuts

and breakfasted. After this we pulled straight out to sea and

landed on the coral reef.

This was indeed a novel and interesting sight to us. We had now

been so long on shore that we had almost forgotten the appearance

of breakers, for there were none within the lagoon; but now, as we

stood beside the foam-crested billow of the open sea, all the

enthusiasm of the sailor was awakened in our breasts; and, as we

gazed on the wide-spread ruin of that single magnificent breaker

that burst in thunder at our feet, we forgot the Coral Island

behind us; we forgot our bower and the calm repose of the scented

woods; we forgot all that had passed during the last few months,

and remembered nothing but the storms, the calms, the fresh breezes

and the surging billows of the open sea.

This huge, ceaseless breaker, to which I have so often alluded, was

a much larger and more sublime object than we had at all imagined

it to be. It rose many yards above the level of the sea, and could

be seen approaching at some distance from the reef. Slowly and

majestically it came on, acquiring greater volume and velocity as

it advanced, until it assumed the form of a clear watery arch,

which sparkled in the bright sun. On it came with resistless and

solemn majesty, - the upper edge lipped gently over, and it fell

with a roar that seemed as though the heart of Ocean were broken in

the crash of tumultuous water, while the foam-clad coral reef

appeared to tremble beneath the mighty shock!

We gazed long and wonderingly at this great sight, and it was with

difficulty we could tear ourselves away from it. As I have once

before mentioned, this wave broke in many places over the reef and

scattered some of its spray into the lagoon, but in most places the

reef was sufficiently broad and elevated to receive and check its

entire force. In many places the coral rocks were covered with

vegetation, - the beginning, as it appeared to us, of future

islands. Thus, on this reef, we came to perceive how most of the

small islands of those seas are formed. On one part we saw the

spray of the breaker washing over the rocks, and millions of

little, active, busy creatures continuing the work of building up

this living rampart. At another place, which was just a little too

high for the waves to wash over it, the coral insects were all

dead; for we found that they never did their work above water.

They had faithfully completed the mighty work which their Creator

had given them to do, and they were now all dead. Again, in other

spots the ceaseless lashing of the sea had broken the dead coral in

pieces, and cast it up in the form of sand. Here sea-birds had

alighted, little pieces of sea-weed and stray bits of wood had been

washed up, seeds of plants had been carried by the wind and a few

lovely blades of bright green had already sprung up, which, when

they died, would increase the size and fertility of these emeralds

of Ocean. At other places these islets had grown apace, and were

shaded by one or two cocoa-nut trees, which grew, literally, in the

sand, and were constantly washed by the ocean spray; yet, as I have

before remarked, their fruit was most refreshing and sweet to our

taste.

Again at this time Jack and I pondered the formation of the large

coral islands. We could now understand how the low ones were

formed, but the larger islands cost us much consideration, yet we

could arrive at no certain conclusion on the subject.

Having satisfied our curiosity and enjoyed ourselves during the

whole day, in our little boat, we returned, somewhat wearied, and,

withal, rather hungry, to our bower.

“Now,” said Jack, “as our boat answers so well, we will get a mast

and sail made immediately.”

“So we will,” cried Peterkin, as we all assisted to drag the boat

above high-water mark; “we’ll light our candle and set about it

this very night. Hurrah, my boys, pull away!”

As we dragged our boat, we observed that she grated heavily on her

keel; and, as the sands were in this place mingled with broken

coral rocks, we saw portions of the wood being scraped off.

“Hallo!” cried Jack, on seeing this. “That won’t do. Our keel

will be worn off in no time at this rate.”

“So it will,” said I, pondering deeply as to how this might be

prevented. But I am not of a mechanical turn, naturally, so I

could conceive no remedy save that of putting a plate of iron on

the keel, but as we had no iron I knew not what was to be done.

“It seems to me, Jack,” I added, “that it is impossible to prevent

the keel being worn off thus.”

“Impossible!” cried Peterkin, “my dear Ralph, you are mistaken,

there is nothing so easy - “

“How?” I inquired, in some surprise.

“Why, by not using the boat at all!” replied Peterkin.

“Hold your impudent tongue, Peterkin,” said Jack, as he shouldered

the oars, “come along with me and I’ll give you work to do. In the

first place, you will go and collect cocoa-nut fibre, and set to

work to make sewing twine with it - “

“Please, captain,” interrupted Peterkin, “I’ve got lots of it made

already, - more than enough, as a little friend of mine used to be

in the habit of saying every day after dinner.”

“Very well,” continued Jack; “then you’ll help Ralph to collect

cocoa-nut cloth, and cut it into shape, after which we’ll make a

sail of it. I’ll see to getting the mast and the gearing; so let’s

to work.”

And to work we went right busily, so that in three days from that

time we had set up a mast and sail, with the necessary rigging, in

our little boat. The sail was not, indeed, very handsome to look

at, as it was formed of a number of oblong patches of cloth; but we

had sewed it well by means of our sail-needle, so that it was

strong, which was the chief point. Jack had also overcome the

difficulty about the keel, by pinning to it a FALSE keel. This was

a piece of tough wood, of the same length and width as the real

keel, and about five inches deep. He made it of this depth because

the boat would be thereby rendered not only much more safe, but

more able to beat against the wind; which, in a sea where the

trade-winds blow so long and so steadily in one direction, was a

matter of great importance. This piece of wood was pegged very

firmly to the keel; and we now launched our boat with the

satisfaction of knowing that when the false keel should be scraped

off we could easily put on another; whereas, should the real keel

have been scraped away, we could not have renewed it without taking

our boat to pieces, which Peterkin said made his “marrow quake to

think upon.”

The mast and sail answered excellently; and we now sailed about in

the lagoon with great delight, and examined with much interest the

appearance of our island from a distance. Also, we gazed into the

depths of the water, and watched for hours the gambols of the

curious and bright-coloured fish among the corals and sea-weed.

Peterkin also made a fishing line, and Jack constructed a number of

hooks, some of which were very good, others remarkably bad. Some

of these hooks were made of iron-wood, which did pretty well, the

wood being extremely hard, and Jack made them very thick and large.

Fish there are not particular. Some of the crooked bones in fish-heads also answered for this purpose pretty well. But that which

formed our best and most serviceable hook was the brass finger-ring

belonging to Jack. It gave him not a little trouble to manufacture

it. First he cut it with the axe; then twisted it into the form of

a hook. The barb took him several hours to cut. He did it by

means of constant sawing with the broken penknife. As for the

point, an hour’s rubbing on a piece of sandstone made an excellent

one.

It would be a matter of much time and labour to describe the

appearance of the multitudes of fish that were day after day drawn

into our boat by means of the brass hook. Peterkin always caught

them, - for we observed that he derived much pleasure from fishing,

- while Jack and I found ample amusement in looking on, also in

gazing down at the coral groves, and in baiting the hook. Among

the fish that we saw, but did not catch, were porpoises and sword-fish, whales and sharks. The porpoises came frequently into our

lagoon in shoals, and amused us not a little by their bold leaps

into the air, and their playful gambols in the sea. The sword-fish

were wonderful creatures; some of them apparently ten feet in

length, with an ivory spear, six or eight feet long, projecting

from their noses. We often saw them darting after other fish, and

no doubt they sometimes killed them with their ivory swords. Jack

remembered having heard once of a sword-fish attacking a ship, -

which seemed strange indeed; but, as they are often in the habit of

attacking whales, perhaps it mistook the ship for one. This sword-fish ran against the vessel with such force, that it drove its

sword quite through the thick planks; and when the ship arrived in

harbour, long afterwards, the sword was found still sticking in it!

Sharks did not often appear; but we took care never again to bathe

in deep water without leaving one of our number in the boat to give

us warning, if he should see a shark approaching. As for the

whales, they never came into our lagoon, but we frequently saw them

spouting in the deep water beyond the reef. I shall never forget

my surprise the first day I saw one of these huge monsters close to

me. We had been rambling about on the reef during the morning, and

were about to re-embark in our little boat, to return home, when a

loud blowing sound caused us to wheel rapidly round. We were just

in time to see a shower of spray falling, and the flukes or tail of

some monstrous fish disappear in the sea a few hundred yards off.

We waited some time to see if he would rise again. As we stood,

the sea seemed to open up at our very feet; an immense spout of

water was sent with a snort high into the air, and the huge blunt

head of a sperm whale arose before us. It was so large that it

could easily have taken our little boat, along with ourselves, into

its mouth! It plunged slowly back into the sea, like a large ship

foundering, and struck the water with its tail so forcibly as to

cause a sound like a cannon shot. We also saw a great number of

flying fish, although we caught none; and we noticed that they

never flew out of the water except when followed by their bitter

foe, the dolphin, from whom they thus endeavoured to escape. But

of all the fish that we saw, none surprised us so much as those

that we used to find in shallow pools after a shower of rain; and

this not on account of their appearance, for they were ordinary-looking and very small, but on account of their having descended in

a shower of rain! We could account for them in no other way,

because the pools in which we found these fish were quite dry

before the shower, and at some distance above high-water mark.

Jack, however, suggested a cause which seemed to me very probable.

We used often to see water-spouts in the sea. A water-spout is a

whirling body of water, which rises from the sea like a sharp-pointed pillar. After rising a good way, it is met by a long

tongue, which comes down from the clouds; and when the two have

joined, they look something like an hour-glass. The water-spout is

then carried by the wind, sometimes gently, sometimes with

violence, over the sea, sometimes up into the clouds, and then,

bursting asunder, it descends in a deluge. This often happens over

the land as well as over the sea; and it sometimes does much

damage, but frequently it passes gently away. Now, Jack thought

that the little fish might perhaps have been carried up in a water-spout, and so sent down again in a shower of rain. But we could

not be certain as to this point; yet we thought it likely.

During these delightful fishing and boating excursions we caught a

good many eels, which we found to be very good to eat. We also

found turtles among the coral rocks, and made excellent soup in our

iron kettle. Moreover, we discovered many shrimps and prawns, so

that we had no lack of variety in our food; and, indeed, we never

passed a week without making some new and interesting discovery of

some sort or other, either on the land or in the sea.

CHAPTER XVII.

A monster wave and its consequences - The boat lost and found -

Peterkin’s terrible accident - Supplies of food for a voyage in the

boat - We visit Penguin Island, and are amazed beyond measure -

Account of the penguins.

ONE day, not long after our little boat was finished, we were

sitting on the rocks at Spouting Cliff, and talking of an excursion

which we intended to make to Penguin Island the next day.

“You see,” said Peterkin, “it might be all very well for a stupid

fellow like me to remain here and leave the penguins alone, but it

would be quite inconsistent with your characters as philosophers to

remain any longer in ignorance of the habits and customs of these

birds; so the sooner we go the better.”

“Very true,” said I; “there is nothing I desire so much as to have

a closer inspection of them.”

“And I think,” said Jack, “that you had better remain at home,

Peterkin, to take care of the cat; for I’m sure the hogs will be at

it in your absence, out of revenge for your killing their great-grandmother so recklessly.”

“Stay at home?” cried Peterkin; “my dear fellow, you would

certainly lose your way, or get upset, if I were not there to take

care of you.”

“Ah, true,” said Jack, gravely, “that did not occur to me; no doubt

you must go. Our boat does require a good deal of ballast; and all

that you say, Peterkin, carries so much weight with it, that we

won’t need stones if you go.”

Now, while my companions were talking, a notable event occurred,

which, as it is not generally known, I shall be particular in

recording here.

While we were talking, as I have said, we noticed a dark line, like

a low cloud or fog-bank, on the seaward horizon. The day was a

fine one, though cloudy, and a gentle breeze was blowing, but the

sea was not rougher, or the breaker on the reef higher, than usual.

At first we thought that this looked like a thunder-cloud; and, as

we had had a good deal of broken weather of late, accompanied by

occasional peals of thunder, we supposed that a storm must be

approaching. Gradually, however, this line seemed to draw nearer,

without spreading up over the sky, as would certainly have been the

case if it had been a storm-cloud. Still nearer it came, and soon

we saw that it was moving swiftly towards the island; but there was

no sound till it reached the islands out at sea. As it passed

these islands, we observed, with no little anxiety, that a cloud of

white foam encircled them, and burst in spray into the air: it was

accompanied by a loud roar. This led us to conjecture that the

approaching object was an enormous wave of the sea; but we had no

idea how large it was till it came near to ourselves. When it

approached the outer reef, however, we were awe-struck with its

unusual magnitude; and we sprang to our feet, and clambered hastily

up to the highest point of the precipice, under an indefinable

feeling of fear.

I have said before that the reef opposite Spouting Cliff was very

near to the shore, while, just in front of the bower, it was at a

considerable distance out to sea. Owing to this formation, the

wave reached the reef at the latter point before it struck at the

foot of Spouting Cliff. The instant it touched the reef we became

aware, for the first time, of its awful magnitude. It burst

completely over the reef at all points, with a roar that seemed

louder to me than thunder; and this roar continued for some

seconds, while the wave rolled gradually along towards the cliff on

which we stood. As its crest reared before us, we felt that we

were in great danger, and turned to flee; but we were too late.

With a crash that seemed to shake the solid rocks the gigantic

billow fell, and instantly the spouting-holes sent up a gush of

water-spouts with such force that they shrieked on issuing from

their narrow vents. It seemed to us as if the earth had been blown

up with water. We were stunned and confused by the shock, and so

drenched and blinded with spray, that we knew not for a few moments

whither to flee for shelter. At length we all three gained an

eminence beyond the reach of the water; but what a scene of

devastation met our gaze as we looked along the shore! This

enormous wave not only burst over the reef, but continued its way

across the lagoon, and fell on the sandy beach of the island with

such force that passed completely over it and dashed into the

woods, levelling the smaller trees and bushes in its headlong

course!

On seeing this, Jack said he feared our bower must have been swept

away, and that the boat, which was on the beach, must have been

utterly destroyed. Our hearts sank within us as we thought of

this, and we hastened round through the woods towards our home. On

reaching it we found, to our great relief of mind, that the force

of the wave had been expended just before reaching the bower; but

the entrance to it was almost blocked up by the torn-up bushes and

tangled heaps of sea-weed. Having satisfied ourselves as to the

bower, we hurried to the spot where the boat had been left; but no

boat was there! The spot on which it had stood was vacant, and no

sign of it could we see on looking around us.

“It may have been washed up into the woods,” said Jack, hurrying up

the beach as he spoke. Still, no boat was to be seen, and we were

about to give ourselves over to despair, when Peterkin called to

Jack and said, -

“Jack, my friend, you were once so exceedingly sagacious and wise

as to make me acquainted with the fact that cocoa nuts grow upon

trees; will you now be so good as to inform me what sort of fruit

that is growing on the top of yonder bush? for I confess to being

ignorant, or, at least, doubtful on the point.”

We looked towards the bush indicated, and there, to our surprise,

beheld our little boat snugly nestled among the leaves! We were

very much overjoyed at this, for we would have suffered any loss

rather than the loss of our boat. We found that the wave had

actually borne the boat on its crest from the beach into the woods,

and there launched it into the heart of this bush; which was

extremely fortunate, for had it been tossed against a rock or a

tree, it would have been dashed to pieces, whereas it had not

received the smallest injury. It was no easy matter, however, to

get it out of the bush and down to the sea again. This cost us two

days of hard labour to accomplish.

We had also much ado to clear away the rubbish from before the

bower, and spent nearly a week in constant labour ere we got the

neighbourhood to look as clean and orderly as before; for the

uprooted bushes and sea-weed that lay on the beach formed a more

dreadfully confused-looking mass than one who had not seen the

place after the inundation could conceive.

Before leaving the subject I may mention, for the sake of those who

interest themselves in the curious natural phenomena of our world,

that this gigantic wave occurs regularly on some of the islands of

the Pacific, once, and sometimes twice in the year. I heard this

stated by the missionaries during my career in those seas. They

could not tell me whether it visited all of the islands, but I was

certainly assured that it occurred periodically in some of them.

After we had got our home put to rights and cleared of the DEBRIS

of the inundation, we again turned our thoughts to paying the

penguins a visit. The boat was therefore overhauled and a few

repairs done. Then we prepared a supply of provisions, for we

intended to be absent at least a night or two, perhaps longer.

This took us some time to do, for while Jack was busy with the

boat, Peterkin was sent into the woods to spear a hog or two, and

had to search long, sometimes, ere he found them. Peterkin was

usually sent on this errand, when we wanted a pork chop (which was

not seldom), because he was so active, and could run so wonderfully

fast that he found no difficulty in overtaking the hogs; but, being

dreadfully reckless, he almost invariably tumbled over stumps and

stones in the course of his wild chase, and seldom returned home

without having knocked the skin off his shins. Once, indeed, a

more serious accident happened to him. He had been out all morning

alone and did not return at the usual time to dinner. We wondered

at this, for Peterkin was always very punctual at the dinner hour.

As supper-time drew near we began to be anxious about him, and at

length sallied forth to search the woods. For a long time we

sought in vain, but a little before dark we came upon the tracks of

the hogs, which we followed up until we came to the brow of a

rather steep bank or precipice. Looking over this we beheld

Peterkin lying in a state of insensibility at the foot, with his

cheek resting on the snout of a little pig, which was pinned to the

earth by the spear! We were dreadfully alarmed, but hastened to

bathe his forehead with water, and had soon the satisfaction of

seeing him revive. After we had carried him home he related to as

how the thing had happened.

“You must know,” said he, “I walked about all the forenoon, till I

was as tired as an old donkey, without seeing a single grunter, not

so much as a track of one; but, as I was determined not to return

empty-handed, I resolved to go without my dinner and - “

“What!” exclaimed Jack, “did you REALLY resolve to do that?”

“Now, Jack, hold your tongue,” returned Peterkin; “I say that I

resolved to forego my dinner and to push to the head of the small

valley, where I felt pretty sure of discovering the hogs. I soon

found that I was on the right scent, for I had scarcely walked half

a mile in the direction of the small plum tree we found there the

other day, when a squeak fell on my ear. ‘Ho, ho,’ said I, ‘there

you go, my boys;’ and I hurried up the glen. I soon started them,

and singling out a fat pig, ran tilt at him. In a few seconds I

was up with him, and stuck my spear right through his dumpy body.

Just as I did so, I saw that we were on the edge of a precipice,

whether high or low I knew not, but I had been running at such a

pace that I could not stop, so the pig and I gave a howl in concert

and went plunging over together. I remembered nothing more after

that, till I came to my senses and found you bathing my temples,

and Ralph wringing his hands over me.”

But although Peterkin was often unfortunate, in the way of getting

tumbles, he was successful on the present occasion in hunting, and

returned before evening with three very nice little hogs. I, also,

was successful in my visit to the mud-flats, where I killed several

ducks. So that, when we launched and loaded our boat at sunrise

the following morning, we found our store of provisions to be more

than sufficient. Part had been cooked the night before, and, on

taking note of the different items, we found the account to stand

thus:-

10 Bread-fruits, (two baked, eight unbaked.)

20 Yams, (six roasted, the rest raw.)

6 Taro roots.

50 Fine large plums.

6 Cocoa nuts, ripe.

6 Ditto green, (for drinking.)

4 Large ducks and two small ones, raw.

3 Cold roast pigs, with stuffing.

I may here remark that the stuffing had been devised by Peterkin

specially for the occasion. He kept the manner of its compounding

a profound secret, so I cannot tell what it was; but I can say,

with much confidence, that we found it to be atrociously bad, and,

after the first tasting, scraped it carefully out and threw it

overboard. We calculated that this supply would last us for

several days, but we afterwards found that it was much more than we

required, especially in regard to the cocoa nuts, of which we found

large supplies wherever we went. However, as Peterkin remarked, it

was better to have too much than too little, as we knew not to what

straits we might be put during our voyage.

It was a very calm sunny morning when we launched forth and rowed

over the lagoon towards the outlet in the reef, and passed between

the two green islets that guard the entrance. We experienced some

difficulty and no little danger in passing the surf of the breaker,

and shipped a good deal of water in the attempt; but, once past the

billow, we found ourselves floating placidly on the long oily swell

that rose and fell slowly as it rolled over the wide ocean.

Penguin Island lay on the other side of our own island, at about a

mile beyond the outer reef, and we calculated that it must be at

least twenty miles distant by the way we should have to go. We

might, indeed, have shortened the way by coasting round our island

inside of the lagoon, and going out at the passage in the reef

nearly opposite to Penguin Island, but we preferred to go by the

open sea; first, because it was more adventurous; and, secondly,

because we should have the pleasure of again feeling the motion of

the deep, which we all loved very much, not being liable to sea

sickness.

“I wish we had a breeze,” said Jack.

“So do I,” cried Peterkin, resting on his oar and wiping his heated

brow; “pulling is hard work. Oh dear, if we could only catch a

hundred or two of these gulls, tie them to the boat with long

strings, and make them fly as we want them, how capital it would

be!”

“Or bore a hole through a shark’s tail, and reeve a rope through

it, eh?” remarked Jack. “But, I say, it seems that my wish is

going to be granted, for here comes a breeze. Ship your oar,

Peterkin. Up with the mast, Ralph; I’ll see to the sail. Mind

your helm; look out for squalls!”

This last speech was caused by the sudden appearance of a dark blue

line on the horizon, which, in an incredibly short space of time,

swept down on us, lashing up the sea in white foam as it went. We

presented the stern of the boat to its first violence, and, in a

few seconds, it moderated into a steady breeze, to which we spread

our sail and flew merrily over the waves. Although the breeze died

away soon afterwards, it had been so stiff while it lasted, that we

were carried over the greater part of our way before it fell calm

again; so that, when the flapping of the sail against the mast told

us that it was time to resume the oars, we were not much more than

a mile from Penguin Island.

“There go the soldiers!” cried Peterkin as we came in sight of it;

“how spruce their white trousers look, this morning! I wonder if

they will receive us kindly. D’you think they are hospitable,

Jack?”

“Don’t talk, Peterkin, but pull away, and you shall see shortly.”

As we drew near to the island we were much amused by the manoeuvres

and appearance of these strange birds. They seemed to be of

different species, for some had crests on their heads while others

had none, and while some were about the size of a goose others

appeared nearly as large as a swan. We also saw a huge albatross

soaring above the heads of the penguins. It was followed and

surrounded by numerous flocks of sea-gulls. Having approached to

within a few yards of the island, which was a low rock, with no

other vegetation on it than a few bushes, we lay on our oars and

gazed at the birds with surprise and pleasure, they returning our

gaze with interest. We now saw that their soldier-like appearance

was owing to the stiff, erect manner in which they sat on their

short legs, - “Bolt-up-right,” as Peterkin expressed it. They had

black heads, long sharp beaks, white breasts, and bluish backs.

Their wings were so short that they looked more like the fins of a

fish, and, indeed, we soon saw that they used them for the purpose

of swimming under water. There were no quills on these wings, but

a sort of scaly feathers; which also thickly covered their bodies.

Their legs were short, and placed so far back that the birds, while

on land, were obliged to stand quite upright in order to keep their

balance; but in the water they floated like other water-fowl. At

first we were so stunned with the clamour which they and other sea-birds kept up around us, that we knew not which way to look, - for

they covered the rocks in thousands; but, as we continued to gaze,

we observed several quadrupeds (as we thought) walking in the midst

of the penguins.

“Pull in a bit,” cried Peterkin, “and let’s see what these are.

They must be fond of noisy company, to consort with such

creatures.”

To our surprise we found that these were no other than penguins

which had gone down on all fours, and were crawling among the

bushes on their feet and wings, just like quadrupeds. Suddenly one

big old bird, that had been sitting on a point very near to us,

gazing in mute astonishment, became alarmed, and, scuttling down

the rocks, plumped or fell, rather than ran, into the sea. It

dived in a moment, and, a few seconds afterwards, came out of the

water far a-head, with such a spring, and such a dive back into the

sea again, that we could scarcely believe it was not a fish that

had leaped in sport.

“That beats everything,” said Peterkin, rubbing his nose, and

screwing up his face with an expression of exasperated amazement.

“I’ve heard of a thing being neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, but I

never did expect to live to see a brute that was all three

together, - at once - in one! But look there!” he continued,

pointing with a look of resignation to the shore, “look there!

there’s no end to it. What HAS that brute got under its tail?”

We turned to look in the direction pointed out, and there saw a

penguin walking slowly and very sedately along the shore with an

egg under its tail. There were several others, we observed,

burdened in the same way; and we found afterwards that these were a

species of penguins that always carried their eggs so. Indeed,

they had a most convenient cavity for the purpose, just between the

tail and the legs. We were very much impressed with the regularity

and order of this colony. The island seemed to be apportioned out

into squares, of which each penguin possessed one, and sat in stiff

solemnity in the middle of it, or took a slow march up and down the

spaces between. Some were hatching their eggs, but others were

feeding their young ones in a manner that caused us to laugh not a

little. The mother stood on a mound or raised rock, while the

young one stood patiently below her on the ground. Suddenly the

mother raised her head and uttered a series of the most discordant

cackling sounds.

“She’s going to choke,” cried Peterkin.

But this was not the case, although, I confess, she looked like it.

In a few seconds she put down her head and opened her mouth, into

which the young one thrust its beak and seemed to suck something

from her throat. Then the cackling was renewed, the sucking

continued, and so the operation of feeding was carried on till the

young one was satisfied; but what she fed her little one with, we

could not tell.

“Now, just look yonder!” said Peterkin, in an excited tone; “if

that isn’t the most abominable piece of maternal deception I ever

saw. That rascally old lady penguin has just pitched her young one

into the sea, and there’s another about to follow her example.”

This indeed seemed to be the cue, for, on the top of a steep rock

close to the edge of the sea, we observed an old penguin

endeavouring to entice her young one into the water; but the young

one seemed very unwilling to go, and, notwithstanding the

enticements of its mother, moved very slowly towards her. At last

she went gently behind the young bird and pushed it a little

towards the water, but with great tenderness, as much as to say,

‘Don’t be afraid, darling! I won’t hurt you, my pet!’ but no

sooner did she get it to the edge of the rock, where it stood

looking pensively down at the sea, than she gave it a sudden and

violent push, sending it headlong down the slope into the water,

where its mother left it to scramble ashore as it best could. We

observed many of them employed in doing this, and we came to the

conclusion that this is the way in which old penguins teach their

children to swim.

Scarcely had we finished making our remarks on this, when we were

startled by about a dozen of the old birds hopping in the most

clumsy and ludicrous manner towards the sea. The beach, here, was

a sloping rock, and when they came to it, some of them succeeded in

hopping down in safety, but others lost their balance and rolled

and scrambled down the slope in the most helpless manner. The

instant they reached the water, however, they seemed to be in their

proper element. They dived and bounded out of it and into it again

with the utmost agility; and so, diving and bounding and

spluttering, for they could not fly, they went rapidly out to sea,

On seeing this, Peterkin turned with a grave face to us and said,

“It’s my opinion that these birds are all stark, staring mad, and

that this is an enchanted island. I therefore propose that we

should either put about ship and fly in terror from the spot, or

land valorously on the island, and sell our lives as dearly as we

can.”

“I vote for landing, so pull in, lads,” said Jack, giving a stroke

with his oar that made the boat spin. In a few seconds we ran the

boat into a little creek where we made her fast to a projecting

piece of coral, and, running up the beach, entered the ranks of the

penguins armed with our cudgels and our spear. We were greatly

surprised to find that, instead of attacking us or showing signs of

fear at our approach, these curious birds did not move from their

places until we laid hands on them, and merely turned their eyes on

us in solemn, stupid wonder as we passed. There was one old

penguin, however, that began to walk slowly toward the sea, and

Peterkin took it into his head that he would try to interrupt its

progress, so he ran between it and the sea and brandished his

cudgel in its face. But this proved to be a resolute old bird. It

would not retreat; nay, more, it would not cease to advance, but

battled with Peterkin bravely and drove him before it until it

reached the sea. Had Peterkin used his club he could easily have

felled it, no doubt; but, as he had no wish to do so cruel an act

merely out of sport, he let the bird escape.

We spent fully three hours on this island in watching the habits of

these curious birds, and, when we finally left them, we all three

concluded, after much consultation, that they were the most

wonderful creatures we had ever seen; and further, we thought it

probable that they were the most wonderful creatures in the world!

CHAPTER XVIII.

An awful storm and its consequences - Narrow escape - A rock proves

a sure foundation - A fearful night and a bright morning -

Deliverance from danger.

IT was evening before we left the island of the penguins. As we

had made up our minds to encamp for the night on a small island,

whereon grew a few cocoa-nut trees, which was about two miles off,

we lay to our oars with some energy. But a danger was in store for

us which we had not anticipated. The wind, which had carried us so

quickly to Penguin Island, freshened as evening drew on, to a stiff

breeze, and, before we had made half the distance to the small

island, it became a regular gale. Although it was not so directly

against us as to prevent our rowing in the course we wished to go,

yet it checked us very much; and although the force of the sea was

somewhat broken by the island, the waves soon began to rise, and to

roll their broken crests against our small craft, so that she began

to take in water, and we had much ado to keep ourselves afloat. At

last the wind and sea together became so violent that we found it

impossible to make the island, so Jack suddenly put the head of the

boat round and ordered Peterkin and me to hoist a corner of the

sail, intending to run back to Penguin Island.

“We shall at least have the shelter of the bushes,” he said, as the

boat flew before the wind, “and the penguins will keep us company.”

As Jack spoke, the wind suddenly shifted, and blew so much against

us that we were forced to hoist more of the sail in order to beat

up for the island, being by this change thrown much to leeward of

it. What made matters worse was, that the gale came in squalls, so

that we were more than once nearly upset.

“Stand by, both of you,” cried Jack, in a quick, earnest tone; “be

ready to dowse the sail. I very much fear we won’t make the island

after all.”

Peterkin and I were so much in the habit of trusting everything to

Jack that we had fallen into the way of not considering things,

especially such things as were under Jack’s care. We had,

therefore, never doubted for a moment that all was going well, so

that it was with no little anxiety that we heard him make the above

remark. However, we had no time for question or surmise, for, at

the moment he spoke, a heavy squall was bearing down upon us, and,

as we were then flying with our lee gunwale dipping occasionally

under the waves, it was evident that we should have to lower our

sail altogether. In a few seconds the squall struck the boat, but

Peterkin and I had the sail down in a moment, so that it did not

upset us; but, when it was past, we were more than half full of

water. This I soon baled out, while Peterkin again hoisted a

corner of the sail; but the evil which Jack had feared came upon

us. We found it quite impossible to make Penguin Island. The gale

carried us quickly past it towards the open sea, and the terrible

truth flashed upon us that we should be swept out and left to

perish miserably in a small boat in the midst of the wide ocean.

This idea was forced very strongly upon us because we saw nothing

in the direction whither the wind was blowing us save the raging

billows of the sea; and, indeed, we trembled as we gazed around us,

for we were now beyond the shelter of the islands, and it seemed as

though any of the huge billows, which curled over in masses of

foam, might swallow us up in a moment. The water, also, began to

wash in over our sides, and I had to keep constantly baling, for

Jack could not quit the helm nor Peterkin the sail for an instant,

without endangering our lives. In the midst of this distress Jack

uttered an exclamation of hope, and pointed towards a low island or

rock which lay directly ahead. It had been hitherto unobserved,

owing to the dark clouds that obscured the sky and the blinding

spray that seemed to fill the whole atmosphere.

As we neared this rock we observed that it was quite destitute of

trees and verdure, and so low that the sea broke completely over

it. In fact it was nothing more than the summit of one of the

coral formations, which rose only a few feet above the level of the

water, and was, in stormy weather, all but invisible. Over this

island the waves were breaking in the utmost fury, and our hearts

sank within us as we saw that there was not a spot where we could

thrust our little boat without its being dashed to pieces.

“Show a little bit more sail,” cried Jack, as we swept past the

weather side of the rock with fearful speed.

“Ay, ay,” answered Peterkin, hoisting about a foot more of our

sail.

Little though the addition was it caused the boat to lie over and

creak so loudly, as we cleft the foaming waves, that I expected to

be upset every instant; and I blamed Jack in my heart for his

rashness. But I did him injustice, for, although during two

seconds the water rushed in-board in a torrent, he succeeded in

steering us sharply round to the leeward side of the rock, where

the water was comparatively calm, and the force of the breeze

broken.

“Out your oars now, lads; that’s well done. Give way!” We obeyed

instantly. The oars splashed into the waves together. One good

hearty pull, and we were floating in a comparatively calm creek

that was so narrow as to be barely able to admit our boat. Here we

were in perfect safety, and, as we leaped on shore and fastened our

cable to the rocks, I thanked God in my heart for our deliverance

from so great danger. But, although I have said we were now in

safety, I suspect that few of my readers would have envied our

position. It is true we had no lack of food, but we were drenched

to the skin; the sea was foaming round us and the spray flying over

our heads, so that we were completely enveloped, as it were, in

water; the spot on which we had landed was not more than twelve

yards in diameter, and from this spot we could not move without the

risk of being swept away by the storm. At the upper end of the

creek was a small hollow or cave in the rock, which sheltered us

from the fury of the winds and waves; and as the rock extended in a

sort of ledge over our heads, it prevented the spray from falling

upon us.

“Why,” said Peterkin, beginning to feel cheery again, “it seems to

me that we have got into a mermaid’s cave, for there is nothing but

water all round us; and as for earth or sky, they are things of the

past.”

Peterkin’s idea was not inappropriate, for, what with the sea

roaring in white foam up to our very feet, and the spray flying in

white sheets continually over our heads, and the water dripping

heavily from the ledge above like a curtain in front of our cave,

it did seem to us very much more like being below than above water.

“Now, boys,” cried Jack, “bestir yourselves, and let’s make

ourselves comfortable. Toss out our provisions, Peterkin; and

here, Ralph, lend a hand to haul up the boat. Look sharp.”

“Ay, ay, captain,” we cried, as we hastened to obey, much cheered

by the hearty manner of our comrade.

Fortunately the cave, although not very deep, was quite dry, so

that we succeeded in making ourselves much more comfortable than

could have been expected. We landed our provisions, wrung the

water out of our garments, spread our sail below us for a carpet,

and, after having eaten a hearty meal, began to feel quite

cheerful. But as night drew on, our spirits sank again, for with

the daylight all evidence of our security vanished away. We could

no longer see the firm rock on which we lay, while we were stunned

with the violence of the tempest that raged around us. The night

grew pitchy dark, as it advanced, so that we could not see our

hands when we held them up before our eyes, and were obliged to

feel each other occasionally to make sure that we were safe, for

the storm at last became so terrible that it was difficult to make

our voices audible. A slight variation of the wind, as we

supposed, caused a few drops of spray ever and anon to blow into

our faces; and the eddy of the sea, in its mad boiling, washed up

into our little creek until it reached our feet and threatened to

tear away our boat. In order to prevent this latter calamity, we

hauled the boat farther up and held the cable in our hands.

Occasional flashes of lightning shone with a ghastly glare through

the watery curtains around us, and lent additional horror to the

scene. Yet we longed for those dismal flashes, for they were less

appalling than the thick blackness that succeeded them. Crashing

peals of thunder seemed to tear the skies in twain, and fell upon

our ears through the wild yelling of the hurricane as if it had

been but a gentle summer breeze; while the billows burst upon the

weather side of the island until we fancied that the solid rock was

giving way, and, in our agony, we clung to the bare ground,

expecting every moment to be whirled away and whelmed in the black

howling sea! Oh! it was a night of terrible anxiety, and no one

can conceive the feelings of intense gratitude and relief with

which we at last saw the dawn of day break through the vapory mists

around us.

For three days and three nights we remained on this rock, while the

storm continued to rage with unabated fury. On the morning of the

fourth day it suddenly ceased, and the wind fell altogether; but

the waves still ran so high that we did not dare to put off in our

boat. During the greater part of this period we scarcely slept

above a few minutes at a time, but on the third night we slept

soundly and awoke early on the fourth morning to find the sea very

much down, and the sun shining brightly again in the clear blue

sky.

It was with light hearts that we launched forth once more in our

little boat and steered away for our island home, which, we were

overjoyed to find, was quite visible on the horizon, for we had

feared that we had been blown out of sight of it altogether. As it

was a dead calm we had to row during the greater part of the day;

but towards the afternoon a fair breeze sprang up, which enabled us

to hoist our sail. We soon passed Penguin Island, and the other

island which we had failed to reach on the day the storm commenced;

but as we had still enough of provisions, and were anxious to get

home, we did not land, to the great disappointment of Peterkin, who

seemed to entertain quite an affection for the penguins.

Although the breeze was pretty fresh for several hours, we did not

reach the outer reef of our island till night-fall, and before we

had sailed more than a hundred yards into the lagoon, the wind died

away altogether, so that we had to take to our oars again. It was

late and the moon and stars were shining brightly when we arrived

opposite the bower and leaped upon the strand. So glad were we to

be safe back again on our beloved island, that we scarcely took

time to drag the boat a short way up the beach, and then ran up to

see that all was right at the bower. I must confess, however, that

my joy was mingled with a vague sort of fear lest our home had been

visited and destroyed during our absence; but on reaching it we

found everything just as it had been left, and the poor black cat

curled up, sound asleep, on the coral table in front of our humble

dwelling.

CHAPTER XIX.

Shoemaking - The even tenor of our way suddenly interrupted - An

unexpected visit and an appalling battle - We all become warriors,

and Jack proves himself be a hero.

FOR many months after this we continued to live on our island in

uninterrupted harmony and happiness. Sometimes we went out a-fishing in the lagoon, and sometimes went a-hunting in the woods,

or ascended to the mountain top, by way of variety, although

Peterkin always asserted that we went for the purpose of hailing

any ship that might chance to heave in sight. But I am certain

that none of us wished to be delivered from our captivity, for we

were extremely happy, and Peterkin used to say that as we were very

young we should not feel the loss of a year or two. Peterkin, as I

have said before, was thirteen years of age, Jack eighteen, and I

fifteen. But Jack was very tall, strong, and manly for his age,

and might easily have been mistaken for twenty.

The climate was so beautiful that it seemed to be a perpetual

summer, and as many of the fruit-trees continued to bear fruit and

blossom all the year round, we never wanted for a plentiful supply

of food. The hogs, too, seemed rather to increase than diminish,

although Peterkin was very frequent in his attacks on them with his

spear. If at any time we failed in finding a drove, we had only to

pay a visit to the plum-tree before mentioned, where we always

found a large family of them asleep under its branches.

We employed ourselves very busily during this time in making

various garments of cocoa-nut cloth, as those with which we had

landed were beginning to be very ragged. Peterkin also succeeded

in making excellent shoes out of the skin of the old hog, in the

following manner:- He first cut a piece of the hide, of an oblong

form, a few inches longer than his foot. This he soaked in water,

and, while it was wet, he sewed up one end of it, so as to form a

rough imitation of that part of the heel of a shoe where the seam

is. This done, he bored a row of holes all round the edge of the

piece of skin, through which a tough line was passed. Into the

sewed-up part of this shoe he thrust his heel, then, drawing the

string tight, the edges rose up and overlapped his foot all round.

It is true there were a great many ill-looking puckers in these

shoes, but we found them very serviceable notwithstanding, and Jack

came at last to prefer them to his long boots. We ago made various

other useful articles, which added to our comfort, and once or

twice spoke of building us a house, but we had so great an

affection for the bower, and, withal, found it so serviceable, that

we determined not to leave it, nor to attempt the building of a

house, which, in such a climate, might turn out to be rather

disagreeable than useful.

We often examined the pistol that we had found in the house on the

other side of the island, and Peterkin wished much that we had

powder and shot, as it would render pig-killing much easier; but,

after all, we had become so expert in the use of our sling and bow

and spear, that we were independent of more deadly weapons.

Diving in the Water Garden also continued to afford us as much

pleasure as ever; and Peterkin began to be a little more expert in

the water from constant practice. As for Jack and I, we began to

feel as if water were our native element, and revelled in it with

so much confidence and comfort that Peterkin said he feared we

would turn into fish some day, and swim off and leave him; adding,

that he had been for a long time observing that Jack was becoming

more and more like a shark every day. Whereupon Jack remarked,

that if he, Peterkin, were changed into a fish, he would certainly

turn into nothing better or bigger than a shrimp. Poor Peterkin

did not envy us our delightful excursions under water, except,

indeed, when Jack would dive down to the bottom of the Water

Garden, sit down on a rock and look up and make faces at him.

Peterkin did feel envious then, and often said he would give

anything to be able to do that. I was much amused when Peterkin

said this; for if he could only have seen his own face when he

happened to take a short dive, he would have seen that Jack’s was

far surpassed by it. The great difference being, however, that

Jack made faces on purpose - Peterkin couldn’t help it!

Now, while we were engaged with these occupations and amusements,

an event occurred one day which was as unexpected as it was

exceedingly alarming and very horrible.

Jack and I were sitting, as we were often wont to do, on the rocks

at Spouting Cliff, and Peterkin was wringing the water from his

garments, having recently fallen by accident into the sea, - a

thing he was constantly doing, - when our attention was suddenly

arrested by two objects which appeared on the horizon.

“What are yon, think you?” I said, addressing Jack.

“I can’t imagine,” answered he; “I’ve noticed them for some time,

and fancied they were black sea-gulls, but the more I look at them

the more I feel convinced they are much larger than gulls.”

“They seem to be coming towards us,” said I.

“Hallo! what’s wrong?” inquired Peterkin, coming up.

“Look there,” said Jack.

“Whales!” cried Peterkin, shading his eyes with his hand. “No! eh!

can they be boats, Jack?”

Our hearts beat with excitement at the very thought of seeing human

faces again.

“I think you are about right, Peterkin; - but they seem to me to

move strangely for boats,” said Jack, in a low tone, as if he were

talking to himself.

I noticed that a shade of anxiety crossed Jack’s countenance as he

gazed long and intently at the two objects, which were now nearing

us fast. At last he sprang to his feet. “They are canoes, Ralph!

whether war-canoes or not I cannot tell, but this I know, that all

the natives of the South Sea Islands are fierce cannibals, and they

have little respect for strangers. We must hide if they land here,

which I earnestly hope they will not do.”

I was greatly alarmed at Jack’s speech, but I confess I thought

less of what he said than of the earnest, anxious manner in which

he said it, and it was with very uncomfortable feelings that

Peterkin and I followed him quickly into the woods.

“How unfortunate,” said I, as we gained the shelter of the bushes,

“that we have forgotten our arms.”

“It matters not,” said Jack; “here are clubs enough and to spare.”

As he spoke, he laid his hand on a bundle of stout poles of various

sizes, which Peterkin’s ever-busy hands had formed, during our

frequent visits to the cliff, for no other purpose, apparently,

than that of having something to do.

We each selected a stout club according to our several tastes, and

lay down behind a rock, whence we could see the canoes approach,

without ourselves being seen. At first we made an occasional

remark on their appearance, but after they entered the lagoon, and

drew near the beach, we ceased to speak, and gazed with intense

interest at the scene before us.

We now observed that the foremost canoe was being chased by the

other, and that it contained a few women and children, as well as

men, - perhaps forty souls altogether; while the canoe which

pursued it contained only men. They seemed to be about the same in

number, but were better armed, and had the appearance of being a

war party. Both crews were paddling with all their might, and it

seemed as if the pursuers exerted themselves to overtake the

natives ere they could land. In this, however, they failed. The

foremost canoe made for the beach close beneath the rocks behind

which we were concealed. Their short paddles flashed like meteors

in the water, and sent up a constant shower of spray. The foam

curled from the prow, and the eyes of the rowers glistened in their

black faces as they strained every muscle of their naked bodies;

nor did they relax their efforts till the canoe struck the beach

with a violent shock; then, with a shout of defiance, the whole

party sprang, as if by magic, from the canoe to the shore. Three

women, two of whom carried infants in their arms, rushed into the

woods; and the men crowded to the water’s edge, with stones in

their hands, spears levelled, and clubs brandished, to resist the

landing of their enemies.

The distance between the two canoes had been about half a mile,

and, at the great speed they were going, this was soon passed. As

the pursuers neared the shore, no sign of fear or hesitation was

noticeable. On they came like a wild charger, - received but

recked not of a shower of stones. The canoe struck, and, with a

yell that seemed to issue from the throats of incarnate fiends,

they leaped into the water, and drove their enemies up the beach.

The battle that immediately ensued was frightful to behold. Most

of the men wielded clubs of enormous size and curious shapes, with

which they dashed out each other’s brains. As they were almost

entirely naked, and had to bound, stoop, leap, and run, in their

terrible hand-to-hand encounters, they looked more like demons than

human beings. I felt my heart grow sick at the sight of this

bloody battle, and would fain have turned away, but a species of

fascination seemed to hold me down and glue my eyes upon the

combatants. I observed that the attacking party was led by a most

extraordinary being, who, from his size and peculiarity, I

concluded was a chief. His hair was frizzed out to an enormous

extent, so that it resembled a large turban. It was of a light-yellow hue, which surprised me much, for the man’s body was as

black as coal, and I felt convinced that the hair must have been

dyed. He was tattooed from head to foot; and his face, besides

being tattooed, was besmeared with red paint, and streaked with

white. Altogether, with his yellow turban-like hair, his Herculean

black frame, his glittering eyes and white teeth, he seemed the

most terrible monster I ever beheld. He was very active in the

fight, and had already killed four men.

Suddenly the yellow-haired chief was attacked by a man quite as

strong and large as himself. He flourished a heavy club something

like an eagle’s beak at the point. For a second or two these

giants eyed each other warily, moving round and round, as if to

catch each other at a disadvantage, but seeing that nothing was to

be gained by this caution, and that the loss of time might

effectually turn the tide of battle either way, they apparently

made up their minds to attack at the same instant, for, with a wild

shout and simultaneous spring, they swung their heavy clubs, which

met with a loud report. Suddenly the yellow-haired savage tripped,

his enemy sprang forward, the ponderous club was swung, but it did

not descend, for at that moment the savage was felled to the ground

by a stone from the hand of one who had witnessed his chief’s

danger. This was the turning-point in the battle. The savages who

landed first turned and fled towards the bush, on seeing the fall

of their chief. But not one escaped. They were all overtaken and

felled to the earth. I saw, however, that they were not all

killed. Indeed, their enemies, now that they were conquered,

seemed anxious to take them alive; and they succeeded in securing

fifteen, whom they bound hand and foot with cords, and, carrying

them up into the woods, laid them down among the bushes. Here they

left them, for what purpose I knew not, and returned to the scene

of the late battle, where the remnant of the party were bathing

their wounds.

Out of the forty blacks that composed the attacking party, only

twenty-eight remained alive, two of whom were sent into the bush to

hunt for the women and children. Of the other party, as I have

said, only ten survived, and these were lying bound and helpless on

the grass.

Jack and Peterkin and I now looked at each other, and whispered our

fears that the savages might clamber up the rocks to search for

fresh water, and so discover our place of concealment; but we were

so much interested in watching their movements that we agreed to

remain where we were; and, indeed, we could not easily have risen

without exposing ourselves to detection. One of the savages now

went up to the wood and soon returned with a bundle of fire-wood,

and we were not a little surprised to see him set fire to it by the

very same means used by Jack the time we made our first fire, -

namely, with the bow and drill. When the fire was kindled, two of

the party went again to the woods and returned with one of the

bound men. A dreadful feeling of horror crept over my heart, as

the thought flashed upon me that they were going to burn their

enemies. As they bore him to the fire my feelings almost

overpowered me. I gasped for breath, and seizing my club,

endeavoured to spring to my feet; but Jack’s powerful arm pinned me

to the earth. Next moment one of the savages raised his club, and

fractured the wretched creature’s skull. He must have died

instantly, and, strange though it may seem, I confess to a feeling

of relief when the deed was done, because I now knew that the poor

savage could not be burned alive. Scarcely had his limbs ceased to

quiver when the monsters cut slices of flesh from his body, and,

after roasting them slightly over the fire, devoured them.

Suddenly there arose a cry from the woods, and, in a few seconds,

the two savages hastened towards the fire dragging the three women

and their two infants along with them. One of those women was much

younger than her companions, and we were struck with the modesty of

her demeanour and the gentle expression of her face, which,

although she had the flattish nose and thick lips of the others,

was of a light-brown colour, and we conjectured that she must be of

a different race. She and her companions wore short petticoats and

a kind of tippet on their shoulders. Their hair was jet black, but

instead of being long, was short and curly, - though not woolly -

somewhat like the hair of a young boy. While we gazed with

interest and some anxiety at these poor creatures, the big chief

advanced to one of the elder females and laid his hand upon the

child. But the mother shrank from him, and clasping the little one

to her bosom, uttered a wail of fear. With a savage laugh, the

chief tore the child from her arms and tossed it into the sea. A

low groan burst from Jack’s lips as we witnessed this atrocious act

and heard the mother’s shriek, as she fell insensible on the sand.

The rippling waves rolled the child on the beach, as if they

refused to be a party in such a foul murder, and we could observe

that the little one still lived.

The young girl was now brought forward, and the chief addressed

her; but although we heard his voice, and even the words

distinctly, of course we could not understand what he said. The

girl made no answer to his fierce questions, and we saw by the way

in which he pointed to the fire that he threatened her life.

“Peterkin,” said Jack in a hoarse whisper, “have you got your

knife?”

“Yes,” replied Peterkin, whose face was pale as death.

“That will do. Listen to me, and do my bidding quick. Here is the

small knife, Ralph. Fly both of you through the bush, cut the

cords that bind the prisoners and set them free. There! quick, ere

it be too late. Jack sprang up, and seized a heavy but short

bludgeon, while his strong frame trembled with emotion, and large

drops rolled down his forehead.

At this moment the man who had butchered the savage a few minutes

before advanced towards the girl with his heavy club. Jack uttered

a yell that rang like a death-shriek among the rocks. With one

bound he leaped over a precipice full fifteen feet high, and,

before the savages had recovered from their surprise, was in the

midst of them; while Peterkin and I dashed through the bushes

towards the prisoners. With one blow of his staff Jack felled the

man with the club, then, turning round with a look of fury, he

rushed upon the big chief with the yellow hair. Had the blow which

Jack aimed at his head taken effect, the huge savage would have

needed no second stroke; but he was agile as a cat, and avoided it

by springing to one side, while, at the same time, he swung his

ponderous club at the head of his foe. It was now Jack’s turn to

leap aside, and well was it for him that the first outburst of his

blind fury was over, else he had become an easy prey to his

gigantic antagonist; but Jack was cool now. He darted his blows

rapidly and well, and the superiority of his light weapon was

strikingly proved in this combat, for while he could easily evade

the blows of the chief’s heavy club, the chief could not so easily

evade those of his light one. Nevertheless, so quick was he, and

so frightfully did he fling about the mighty weapon, that, although

Jack struck him almost every blow, the strokes had to be delivered

so quickly that they wanted force to be very effectual

It was lucky for Jack that the other savages considered the success

of their chief in this encounter to be so certain that they

refrained from interfering. Had they doubted it, they would have

probably ended the matter at once by felling him. But they

contented themselves with awaiting the issue.

The force which the chief expended in wielding his club now began

to be apparent. His movements became slower, his breath hissed

through his clenched teeth, and the surprised savages drew nearer

in order to render assistance. Jack observed this movement. He

felt that his fate was sealed, and resolved to cast his life upon

the next blow. The chiefs club was again about to descend on his

head. He might have evaded it easily, but instead of doing so, he

suddenly shortened his grasp of his own club, rushed in under the

blow, struck his adversary right between the eyes with all his

force and fell to the earth, crushed beneath the senseless body of

the chief. A dozen clubs flew high in air ready to descend on the

head of Jack, but they hesitated a moment, for the massive body of

the chief completely covered him. That moment saved his life. Ere

the savages could tear the chief’s body away, seven of their number

fell prostrate beneath the clubs of the prisoners whom Peterkin and

I had set free, and two others fell under our own hand. We could

never have accomplished this had not our enemies been so engrossed

with the fight between Jack and their chief that they had failed to

observe us until we were upon them. They still out-numbered our

party by three, but we were flushed with victory while they were

taken by surprise and dispirited by the fall of their chief.

Moreover, they were awe-struck by the sweeping fury of Jack, who

seemed to have lost his senses altogether, and had no sooner shaken

himself free of the chief’s body than he rushed into the midst of

them, and in three blows equalized our numbers. Peterkin and I

flew to the rescue, the savages followed us, and, in less than ten

minutes, the whole of our opponents were knocked down or made

prisoners, bound hand and foot, and extended side by side upon the

sea shore.

CHAPTER XX.

Intercourse with the savages - Cannibalism prevented - The slain

are buried and the survivors depart, leaving us again alone on our

Coral Island.

AFTER the battle was over, the savages crowded round us and gazed

at us in surprise, while they continued to pour upon us a flood of

questions, which, being wholly unintelligible, of course we could

not answer. However, by way of putting an end to it, Jack took the

chief (who had recovered from the effects of his wound) by the hand

and shook it warmly. No sooner did the blacks see that this was

meant to express good-will than they shook hands with us all round.

After this ceremony was gone through Jack went up to the girl, who

had never once moved from the rock where she had been left, but had

continued an eager spectator of all that had passed. He made signs

to her to follow him and then, taking the chief by the hand, was

about to conduct him to the bower when his eye fell on the poor

infant which had been thrown into the sea and was still lying on

the shore. Dropping the chief’s hand he hastened towards it, and,

to his great joy, found it to be still alive. We also found that

the mother was beginning to recover slowly.

“Here, get out o’ the way,” said Jack, pushing us aside, as we

stooped over the poor woman and endeavoured to restore her, “I’ll

soon bring her round.” So saying, he placed the infant on her

bosom and laid its warm cheek on hers. The effect was wonderful.

The woman opened her eyes, felt the child, looked at it, and with a

cry of joy clasped it in her arms, at the same time endeavouring to

rise, for the purpose, apparently, of rushing into the woods.

“There, that’s all right,” said Jack, once more taking the chief by

the hand. “Now Ralph and Peterkin, make the women and these

fellows follow me to the bower. Well entertain them as hospitably

as we can.”

In a few minutes the savages were all seated on the ground in front

of the bower making a hearty meal off a cold roast pig, several

ducks, and a variety of cold fish, together with an unlimited

supply of cocoa-nuts, bread-fruits, yams, taro, and plums; with all

of which they seemed to be quite familiar and perfectly satisfied.

Meanwhile, we three being thoroughly knocked up with our day’s

work, took a good draught of cocoa-nut lemonade, and throwing

ourselves on our beds fell fast asleep. The savages it seems

followed our example, and in half-an-hour the whole camp was buried

in repose.

How long we slept I cannot tell, but this I know, that when we lay

down the sun was setting and when we awoke it was high in the

heavens. I awoke Jack, who started up in surprise, being unable at

first to comprehend our situation. “Now, then,” said he, springing

up, “let’s see after breakfast. Hallo! Peterkin, lazy fellow, how

long do you mean to lie there?”

Peterkin yawned heavily. “Well!” said he, opening his eyes and

looking up after some trouble, “if it isn’t to-morrow morning, and

me thinking it was to-day all this time. Hallo! Venus, where did

you come from? you seem tolerably at home, any how. Bah! might as

well speak to the cat as to you - better, in fact, for it

understands me, and you don’t.”

This remark was called forth by the sight of one of the elderly

females, who had seated herself on the rock in front of the bower,

and, having placed her child at her feet, was busily engaged in

devouring the remains of a roast pig.

By this time the natives outside were all astir, and breakfast in

an advanced state of preparation. During the course of it we made

sundry attempts to converse with the natives by signs, but without

effect. At last we hit upon a plan of discovering their names.

Jack pointed to his breast and add “Jack,” very distinctly; then he

pointed to Peterkin and to me, repeating our names at the same

time. Then he pointed to himself again, and said “Jack,” and

laying his finger on the breast of the chief, looked inquiringly

into his face. The chief instantly understood him and said

“Tararo,” twice, distinctly. Jack repeated it after him, and the

chief, nodding his head approvingly, said “Chuck.” On hearing

which, Peterkin exploded with laughter; but Jack turned and with a

frown rebuked him, saying, “I must look even more indignantly at

you than I feel, Peterkin, you rascal, for these fellows don’t like

to be laughed at.” Then turning towards the youngest of the women,

who was seated at the door of the bower, he pointed to her;

whereupon the chief said, “Avatea;” and pointing towards the sun,

raised his finger slowly towards the zenith, where it remained

steadily for a minute or two.

“What can that mean, I wonder,” said Jack, looking puzzled.

“Perhaps,” said Peterkin, “the chief means she is an angel come

down to stay here for a while. If so, she’s an uncommonly black

one!”

We did not feel quite satisfied with this explanation, so Jack went

up to her and said, “Avatea.” The woman smiled sadly, and nodded

her head, at the same time pointing to her breast and then to the

sun, in the same manner as the chief had done. We were much

puzzled to know what this could signify, but as there was no way of

solving our difficulty we were obliged to rest content.

Jack now made signs to the natives to follow him, and, taking up

his axe, he led them to the place where the battle had been fought.

Here we found the prisoners, who had passed the night on the beach

having been totally forgotten by us, as our minds had been full of

our guests, and were ultimately overcome by sleep. They did not

seem the worse for their exposure, however, as we judged by the

hearty appetite with which they devoured the breakfast that was

soon after given to them. Jack then began to dig a hole in the

sand, and, after working a few seconds, he pointed to it and to the

dead bodies that lay exposed on the beach. The natives immediately

perceived what he wanted, and, running for their paddles, dug a

hole in the course of half an hour that was quite large enough to

contain all the bodies of the slain. When it was finished they

tossed their dead enemies into it with so much indifference that we

felt assured they would not have put themselves to this trouble had

we not asked them to do so. The body of the yellow-haired chief

was the last thrown in. This wretched man would have recovered

from the blow with which Jack felled him, and, indeed, he did

endeavour to rise during the melee that followed his fall, but one

of his enemies, happening to notice the action, dealt him a blow

with his club that killed him on the spot.

While they were about to throw the sand over this chief, one of the

savages stooped over him, and with a knife, made apparently of

stone, cut a large slice of flesh from his thigh. We knew at once

that he intended to make use of this for food, and could not

repress a cry of horror and disgust.

“Come, come, you blackguard,” cried Jack, starting up and seizing

the man by the arm, “pitch that into the hole. Do you hear?”

The savage of course did not understand the command, but he

perfectly understood the look of disgust with which Jack regarded

the flesh, and his fierce gaze as he pointed towards the hole.

Nevertheless he did not obey. Jack instantly turned to Tararo and

made signs to him to enforce obedience. The chief seemed to

understand the appeal, for he stepped forward, raised his club, and

was on the point of dashing out the brains of his offending

subject, when Jack sprang forward and caught his uplifted arm.

“Stop!” he shouted, “you blockhead, I don’t want you to kill the

man.” He then pointed again to the flesh and to the hole. The

chief uttered a few words, which had the desired effect; for the

man threw the flesh into the hole, which was immediately filled up.

This man was of a morose, sulky disposition, and, during all the

time he remained on the island, regarded us, especially Jack, with

a scowling visage. His name, we found, was Mahine.

The next three or four days were spent by the savages in mending

their canoe, which had been damaged by the violent shock it had

sustained on striking the shore. This canoe was a very curious

structure. It was about thirty feet long, and had a high towering

stern. The timbers, of which it was partly composed, were fastened

much in the same way as those of our little boat were put together;

but the part that seemed most curious to us was a sort of out-rigger, or long plank, which was attached to the body of the canoe

by means of two stout cross beams. These beams kept the plank

parallel with the canoe, but not in contact with it, for it floated

in the water with an open space between; thus forming a sort of

double canoe. This we found was intended to prevent the upsetting

of the canoe, which was so narrow that it could not have maintained

an upright position without the out-rigger. We could not help

wondering both at the ingenuity and the clumsiness of this

contrivance.

When the canoe was ready, we assisted the natives to carry the

prisoners into it, and helped them to load it with provisions and

fruit. Peterkin also went to the plum-tree for the purpose of

making a special onslaught upon the hogs, and killed no less than

six of them. These we baked and presented to our friends on the

day of their departure. On that day Tararo made a great many

energetic signs to us, which, after much consideration, we came to

understand were proposals that we should go away with him to his

island; but, having no desire to do so, we shook our heads very

decidedly. However, we consoled him by presenting him with our

rusty axe, which we thought we could spare, having the excellent

one which had been so providentially washed ashore to us the day we

were wrecked. We also gave him a piece of wood with our names

carved on it, and a piece of string to hang it round his neck as an

ornament.

In a few minutes more we were all assembled on the beach. Being

unable to speak to the savages, we went through the ceremony of

shaking hands, and expected they would depart; but, before doing

so, Tararo went up to Jack and rubbed noses with him, after which

he did the same with Peterkin and me! Seeing that this was their

mode of salutation, we determined to conform to their custom, so we

rubbed noses heartily with the whole party, women and all! The

only disagreeable part of the process was, when we came to rub

noses with Mahine, and Peterkin afterwards said, that when he saw

his wolfish eyes glaring so close to his face, he felt much more

inclined to BANG than to RUB his nose. Avatea was the last to take

leave of us, and we experienced a feeling of real sorrow when she

approached to bid us farewell. Besides her modest air and gentle

manners she was the only one of the party who exhibited the

smallest sign of regret at parting from us. Going up to Jack, she

put out her flat little nose to be rubbed, and thereafter paid the

same compliment to Peterkin and me.

An hour later the canoe was out of sight, and we, with an

indefinable feeling of sadness creeping round our hearts, were

seated in silence beneath the shadow of our bower, meditating on

the wonderful events of the last few days.

CHAPTER XXI.

Sagacious and moral remarks in regard to life - A sail! - An

unexpected salute - The end of the black cat - A terrible dive - An

incautious proceeding and a frightful catastrophe.

LIFE is a strange compound. Peterkin used to say of it, that it

beat a druggist’s shop all to sticks; for, whereas the first is a

compound of good and bad, the other is a horrible compound of all

that is utterly detestable. And indeed the more I consider it the

more I am struck with the strange mixture of good and evil that

exists not only in the material earth but in our own natures. In

our own Coral Island we had experienced every variety of good that

a bountiful Creator could heap on us. Yet on the night of the

storm we had seen how almost, in our case, - and altogether, no

doubt, in the case of others less fortunate - all this good might

be swept away for ever. We had seen the rich fruit-trees waving in

the soft air, the tender herbs shooting upwards under the benign

influence of the bright sun; and, the next day, we had seen these

good and beautiful trees and plants uprooted by the hurricane,

crushed and hurled to the ground in destructive devastation. We

had lived for many months in a clime for the most part so

beautiful, that we had often wondered whether Adam and Eve had

found Eden more sweet; and we had seen the quiet solitudes of our

paradise suddenly broken in upon by ferocious savages, and the

white sands stained with blood and strewed with lifeless forms;

yet, among these cannibals, we had seen many symptoms of a kindly

nature. I pondered these things much, and, while I considered

them, there recurred to my memory those words which I had read in

my Bible, - the works of God are wonderful, and his ways past

finding out.

After these poor savages had left us, we used to hold long and

frequent conversations about them, and I noticed that Peterkin’s

manner was now much altered. He did not, indeed, jest less

heartily than before, but he did so less frequently, and often

there was a tone of deep seriousness in his manner, if not in his

words, which made him seem to Jack and me as if he had grown two

years older within a few days. But indeed I was not surprised at

this, when I reflected on the awful realities which we had

witnessed so lately. We could by no means shake off a tendency to

gloom for several weeks afterwards; but, as time wore away, our

usual good spirits returned somewhat, and we began to think of the

visit of the savages with feelings akin to those with which we

recall a terrible dream.

One day we were all enjoying ourselves in the Water Garden,

preparatory to going on a fishing excursion; for Peterkin had kept

us in such constant supply of hogs that we had become quite tired

of pork, and desired a change. Peterkin was sunning himself on the

ledge of rock, while we were creeping among the rocks below.

Happening to look up, I observed Peterkin cutting the most

extraordinary capers and making violent gesticulations for us to

come up; so I gave Jack a push, and rose immediately.

“A sail! a sail! Ralph, look! Jack, away on the horizon there,

just over the entrance to the lagoon!” cried Peterkin, as we

scrambled up the rocks.

“So it is, and a schooner, too!” said Jack, as he proceeded hastily

to dress.

Our hearts were thrown into a terrible flutter by this discovery,

for if it should touch at our island we had no doubt the captain

would be happy to give us a passage to some of the civilized

islands, where we could find a ship sailing for England, or some

other part of Europe. Home, with all its associations, rushed in

upon my heart like a flood, and, much though I loved the Coral

Island and the bower which had now been our home so long, I felt

that I could have quitted all at that moment without a sigh. With

joyful anticipations we hastened to the highest point of rock near

our dwelling, and awaited the arrival of the vessel, for we now

perceived that she was making straight for the island, under a

steady breeze.

In less than an hour she was close to the reef, where she rounded

to, and backed her topsails in order to survey the coast. Seeing

this, and fearing that they might not perceive us, we all three

waved pieces of cocoa-nut cloth in the air, and soon had the

satisfaction of seeing them beginning to lower a boat and bustle

about the decks as if they meant to land. Suddenly a flag was run

up to the peak, a little cloud of white smoke rose from the

schooner’s side, and, before we could guess their intentions, a

cannon-shot came crashing through the bushes, carried away several

cocoa-nut trees in its passage, and burst in atoms against the

cliff a few yards below the spot on which we stood.

With feelings of terror we now observed that the flag at the

schooner’s peak was black, with a Death’s head and cross bones upon

it. As we gazed at each other in blank amazement, the word

“pirate” escaped our lips simultaneously.

“What is to be done?” cried Peterkin, as we observed a boat shoot

from the vessel’s side, and make for the entrance of the reef. “If

they take us off the island, it will either be to throw us

overboard for sport, or to make pirates of us.”

I did not reply, but looked at Jack, as being our only resource in

this emergency. He stood with folded arms, and his eyes fixed with

a grave, anxious expression on the ground. “There is but one

hope,” said he, turning with a sad expression of countenance to

Peterkin; “perhaps, after all, we may not have to resort to it. If

these villains are anxious to take us, they will soon overrun the

whole island. But come, follow me.”

Stopping abruptly in his speech, Jack bounded into the woods, and

led us by a circuitous route to Spouting Cliff. Here he halted,

and, advancing cautiously to the rocks, glanced over their edge.

We were soon by his side, and saw the boat, which was crowded with

armed men, just touching the shore. In an instant the crew landed,

formed line, and rushed up to our bower.

In a few seconds we saw them hurrying back to the boat, one of them

swinging the poor cat round his head by the tail. On reaching the

water’s edge, he tossed it far into the sea, and joined his

companions, who appeared to be holding a hasty council.

“You see what we may expect,” said Jack bitterly. “The man who

will wantonly kill a poor brute for sport will think little of

murdering a fellow-creature. Now, boys, we have but one chance

left, - the Diamond Cave.”

“The Diamond Cave!” cried Peterkin, “then my chance is a poor one,

for I could not dive into it if all the pirates on the Pacific were

at my heels.”

“Nay, but,” said I, “we will take you down, Peterkin, if you will

only trust us.”

As I spoke, we observed the pirates scatter over the beach, and

radiate, as if from a centre, towards the woods and along shore.

“Now, Peterkin,” said Jack, in a solemn tone, “you must make up

your mind to do it, or we must make up our minds to die in your

company.”

“Oh, Jack, my dear friend,” cried Peterkin, turning pale, “leave

me; I don’t believe they’ll think it worth while to kill me. Go,

you and Ralph, and dive into the cave.”

“That will not I,” answered Jack quietly, while he picked up a

stout cudgel from the ground. “So now, Ralph, we must prepare to

meet these fellows. Their motto is, ‘No quarter.’ If we can

manage to floor those coming in this direction, we may escape into

the woods for a while.”

“There are five of them,” said I; “we have no chance.”

“Come, then,” cried Peterkin, starting up, and grasping Jack

convulsively by the arm, “let us dive; I will go.”

Those who are not naturally expert in the water know well the

feelings of horror that overwhelm them, when in it, at the bare

idea of being held down, even for a few seconds, - that spasmodic,

involuntary recoil from compulsory immersion which has no

connection whatever with cowardice; and they will understand the

amount of resolution that it required in Peterkin to allow himself

to be dragged down to a depth of ten feet, and then, through a

narrow tunnel, into an almost pitch-dark cavern. But there was no

alternative. The pirates had already caught sight of us, and were

now within a short distance of the rocks.

Jack and I seized Peterkin by the arms.

“Now, keep quite still, no struggling,” said Jack, “or we are

lost.”

Peterkin made no reply, but the stern gravity of his marble

features, and the tension of his muscles, satisfied us that he had

fully made up his mind to go through with it. Just as the pirates

gained the foot of the rocks, which hid us for a moment from their

view, we bent over the sea, and plunged down together head

foremost. Peterkin behaved like a hero. He floated passively

between us like a log of wood, and we passed the tunnel and rose

into the cave in a shorter space of time than I had ever done it

before.

Peterkin drew a long, deep breath on reaching the surface; and in a

few seconds we were all standing on the ledge of rock in safety.

Jack now searched for the tinder and torch, which always lay in the

cave. He soon found them, and, lighting the torch, revealed to

Peterkin’s wondering gaze the marvels of the place. But we were

too wet to waste much time in looking about us. Our first care was

to take off our clothes, and wring them as dry as we could. This

done, we proceeded to examine into the state of our larder, for, as

Jack truly remarked, there was no knowing how long the pirates

might remain on the island.

“Perhaps,” said Peterkin, “they may take it into their heads to

stop here altogether, and so we shall be buried alive in this

place.”

“Don’t you think, Peterkin, that it’s the nearest thing to being

drowned alive that you ever felt?” said Jack with a smile. “But

I’ve no fear of that. These villains never stay long on shore.

The sea is their home, so you may depend upon it that they won’t

stay more than a day or two at the furthest.”

We now began to make arrangements for spending the night in the

cavern. At various periods Jack and I had conveyed cocoa nuts and

other fruits, besides rolls of cocoa-nut cloth, to this submarine

cave, partly for amusement, and partly from a feeling that we might

possibly be driven one day to take shelter here from the savages.

Little did we imagine that the first savages who would drive us

into it would be white savages, perhaps our own countrymen. We

found the cocoa-nuts in good condition, and the cooked yams, but

the bread-fruits were spoiled. We also found the cloth where we

had left it; and, on opening it out, there proved to be sufficient

to make a bed; which was important, as the rock was damp. Having

collected it all together, we spread out our bed, placed our torch

in the midst of us, and ate our supper. It was indeed a strange

chamber to feast in; and we could not help remarking on the cold,

ghastly appearance of the walls, and the black water at our side,

with the thick darkness beyond, and the sullen sound of the drops

that fell at long intervals from the roof of the cavern into the

still water; and the strong contrast between all this and our bed

and supper, which, with our faces, were lit up with the deep red

flame of the torch.

We sat long over our meal, talking together in subdued voices, for

we did not like the dismal echoes that rang through the vault above

when we happened to raise them. At last the faint light that came

through the opening died away, warning us that it was night and

time for rest. We therefore put out our torch and lay down to

sleep.

On awaking, it was some time ere we could collect our faculties so

as to remember where we were, and we were in much uncertainty as to

whether it was early or late. We saw by the faint light that it

was day, but could not guess at the hour; so Jack proposed that he

should dive out and reconnoitre.

“No, Jack,” said I, “do you rest here. You’ve had enough to do

during the last few days. Rest yourself now, and take care of

Peterkin, while I go out to see what the pirates are about. I’ll

be very careful not to expose myself, and I’ll bring you word again

in a short time.”

“Very well, Ralph,” answered Jack, “please yourself, but don’t be

long; and if you’ll take my advice you’ll go in your clothes, for I

would like to have some fresh cocoa nuts, and climbing trees

without clothes is uncomfortable, to say the least of it.”

“The pirates will be sure to keep a sharp lookout,” said Peterkin,

“so, pray, be careful.”

“No fear,” said I; “good-bye.”

“Good-bye,” answered my comrades.

And while the words were yet sounding in my ears, I plunged into

the water, and in a few seconds found myself in the open air. On

rising, I was careful to come up gently and to breathe softly,

while I kept close in beside the rocks; but, as I observed no one

near me, I crept slowly out, and ascended the cliff a step at a

time, till I obtained a full view of the shore. No pirates were to

be seen, - even their boat was gone; but as it was possible they

might have hidden themselves, I did not venture too boldly forward.

Then it occurred to me to look out to sea, when, to my surprise, I

saw the pirate schooner sailing away almost hull-down on the

horizon! On seeing this I uttered a shout of joy. Then my first

impulse was to dive back to tell my companions the good news; but I

checked myself, and ran to the top of the cliff, in order to make

sure that the vessel I saw was indeed the pirate schooner. I

looked long and anxiously at her, and, giving vent to a deep sigh

of relief, said aloud, “Yes, there she goes; the villains have been

baulked of their prey this time at least.”

“Not so sure of that!” said a deep voice at my side; while, at the

same moment, a heavy hand grasped my shoulder, and held it as if in

a vice.

CHAPTER XXII.

I fall into the hands of pirates - How they treated me, and what I

said to them - The result of the whole ending in a melancholy

separation and in a most unexpected gift.

MY heart seemed to leap into my throat at the words; and, turning

round, I beheld a man of immense stature, and fierce aspect

regarding me with a smile of contempt. He was a white man, - that

is to say, he was a man of European blood, though his face, from

long exposure to the weather, was deeply bronzed. His dress was

that of a common seaman, except that he had on a Greek skull-cap,

and wore a broad shawl of the richest silk round his waist. In

this shawl were placed two pair of pistols and a heavy cutlass. He

wore a beard and moustache, which, like the locks on his head, were

short, curly, and sprinkled with gray hairs.

“So, youngster,” he said, with a Sardonic smile, while I felt his

grasp tighten on my shoulder, “the villains have been baulked of

their prey, have they? We shall see, we shall see. Now, you

whelp, look yonder. As he spoke, the pirate uttered a shrill

whistle. In a second or two it was answered, and the pirate-boat

rowed round the point at the Water Garden, and came rapidly towards

us. “Now, go, make a fire on that point; and hark’ee, youngster,

if you try to run away, I’ll send a quick and sure messenger after

you,” and he pointed significantly at his pistols.

I obeyed in silence, and as I happened to have the burning-glass in

my pocket, a fire was speedily kindled, and a thick smoke ascended

into the air. It had scarcely appeared for two minutes when the

boom of a gun rolled over the sea, and, looking up, I saw that the

schooner was making for the island again. It now flashed across me

that this was a ruse on the part of the pirates, and that they had

sent their vessel away, knowing that it would lead us to suppose

that they had left altogether. But there was no use of regret now.

I was completely in their power, so I stood helplessly beside the

pirate watching the crew of the boat as they landed on the beach.

For an instant I contemplated rushing over the cliff into the sea,

but this I saw I could not now accomplish, as some of the men were

already between me and the water.

There was a good deal of jesting at the success of their scheme, as

the crew ascended the rocks and addressed the man who had captured

me by the title of captain. They were a ferocious set of men, with

shaggy beards and scowling brows. All of them were armed with

cutlasses and pistols, and their costumes were, with trifling

variations, similar to that of the captain. As I looked from one

to the other, and observed the low, scowling brows, that never

unbent, even when the men laughed, and the mean, rascally

expression that sat on each face, I felt that my life hung by a

hair.

“But where are the other cubs?” cried one of the men, with an oath

that made me shudder. “I’ll swear to it there were three, at

least, if not more.”

“You hear what he says, whelp; where are the other dogs?” said the

captain.

“If you mean my companions,” said I, in a low voice, “I won’t tell

you.”

A loud laugh burst from the crew at this answer.

The pirate captain looked at me in surprise. Then drawing a pistol

from his belt, he cocked it and said, “Now, youngster, listen to

me. I’ve no time to waste here. If you don’t tell me all you

know, I’ll blow your brains out! Where are your comrades?”

For an instant I hesitated, not knowing what to do in this

extremity. Suddenly a thought occurred to me.

“Villain,” said I, shaking my clenched fist in his face, “to blow

my brains out would make short work of me, and be soon over. Death

by drowning is as sure, and the agony prolonged, yet, I tell you to

your face, if you were to toss me over yonder cliff into the sea, I

would not tell you where my companions are, and I dare you to try

me!”

The pirate captain grew white with rage as I spoke. “Say you so?”

cried he, uttering a fierce oath. “Here, lads, take him by the

legs and heave him in, - quick!”

The men, who were utterly silenced with surprise at my audacity,

advanced, and seized me, and, as they carried me towards the cliff,

I congratulated myself not a little on the success of my scheme,

for I knew that once in the water I should be safe, and could

rejoin Jack and Peterkin in the cave. But my hopes were suddenly

blasted by the captain crying out, “Hold on, lads, hold on. We’ll

give him a taste of the thumb-screws before throwing him to the

sharks. Away with him into the boat. Look alive! the breeze is

freshening.”

The men instantly raised me shoulder high, and, hurrying down the

rocks, tossed me into the bottom of the boat, where I lay for some

time stunned with the violence of my fall.

On recovering sufficiently to raise myself on my elbow, I perceived

that we were already outside the coral reef, and close alongside

the schooner, which was of small size and clipper built. I had

only time to observe this much, when I received a severe kick on

the side from one of the men, who ordered me, in a rough voice, to

jump aboard. Rising hastily I clambered up the side. In a few

minutes the boat was hoisted on deck, the vessel’s head put close

to the wind, and the Coral Island dropped slowly astern as we beat

up against a head sea.

Immediately after coming aboard, the crew were too busily engaged

in working the ship and getting in the boat to attend to me, so I

remained leaning against the bulwarks close to the gangway,

watching their operations. I was surprised to find that there were

no guns or carronades of any kind in the vessel, which had more of

the appearance of a fast-sailing trader than a pirate. But I was

struck with the neatness of everything. The brass work of the

binnacle and about the tiller, as well as the copper belaying-pins,

were as brightly polished as if they had just come from the

foundry. The decks were pure white, and smooth. The masts were

clean-scraped and varnished, except at the cross-trees and truck,

which were painted black. The standing and running rigging was in

the most perfect order, and the sails white as snow. In short,

everything, from the single narrow red stripe on her low black hull

to the trucks on her tapering masts, evinced an amount of care and

strict discipline that would have done credit to a ship of the

Royal Navy. There was nothing lumbering or unseemly about the

vessel, excepting, perhaps, a boat, which lay on the deck with its

keel up between the fore and main masts. It seemed

disproportionately large for the schooner; but, when I saw that the

crew amounted to between thirty and forty men, I concluded that

this boat was held in reserve, in case of any accident compelling

the crew to desert the vessel.

As I have before said, the costumes of the men were similar to that

of the captain. But in head gear they differed not only from him

but from each other, some wearing the ordinary straw hat of the

merchant service, while others wore cloth caps and red worsted

night-caps. I observed that all their arms were sent below; the

captain only retaining his cutlass and a single pistol in the folds

of his shawl. Although the captain was the tallest and most

powerful man in the ship, he did not strikingly excel many of his

men in this respect, and the only difference that an ordinary

observer would have noticed was, a certain degree of open candour,

straightforward daring, in the bold, ferocious expression of his

face, which rendered him less repulsive than his low-browed

associates, but did not by any means induce the belief that he was

a hero. This look was, however, the indication of that spirit

which gave him the pre-eminence among the crew of desperadoes who

called him captain. He was a lion-like villain; totally devoid of

personal fear, and utterly reckless of consequences, and,

therefore, a terror to his men, who individually hated him, but

unitedly felt it to be their advantage to have him at their head.

But my thoughts soon reverted to the dear companions whom I had

left on shore, and as I turned towards the Coral Island, which was

now far away to leeward, I sighed deeply, and the tears rolled

slowly down my cheeks as I thought that I might never see them

more.

“So you’re blubbering, are you, you obstinate whelp?” said the deep

voice of the captain, as he came up and gave me a box on the ear

that nearly felled me to the deck. “I don’t allow any such

weakness aboard o’ this ship. So clap a stopper on your eyes or

I’ll give you something to cry for.”

I flushed with indignation at this rough and cruel treatment, but

felt that giving way to anger would only make matters worse, so I

made no reply, but took out my handkerchief and dried my eyes.

“I thought you were made of better stuff,” continued the captain,

angrily; “I’d rather have a mad bull-dog aboard than a water-eyed

puppy. But I’ll cure you, lad, or introduce you to the sharks

before long. Now go below, and stay there till I call you.”

As I walked forward to obey, my eye fell on a small keg standing by

the side of the main-mast, on which the word GUNPOWDER was written

in pencil. It immediately flashed across me that, as we were

beating up against the wind, anything floating in the sea would be

driven on the reef encircling the Coral Island. I also recollected

- for thought is more rapid than the lightning - that my old

companions had a pistol. Without a moment’s hesitation, therefore,

I lifted the keg from the deck and tossed it into the sea! An

exclamation of surprise burst from the captain and some of the men

who witnessed this act of mine.

Striding up to me, and uttering fearful imprecations, the captain

raised his hand to strike me, while he shouted, “Boy! whelp! what

mean you by that?”

“If you lower your hand,” said I, in a loud voice, while I felt the

blood rush to my temples, “I’ll tell you. Until you do so I’m

dumb!”

The captain stepped back and regarded me with a look of amazement.

“Now,” continued I, “I threw that keg into the sea because the wind

and waves will carry it to my friends on the Coral Island, who

happen to have a pistol, but no powder. I hope that it will reach

them soon, and my only regret is that the keg was not a bigger one.

Moreover, pirate, you said just now that you thought I was made of

better stuff! I don’t know what stuff I am made of, - I never

thought much about that subject; but I’m quite certain of this,

that I am made of such stuff as the like of you shall never tame,

though you should do your worst.”

To my surprise the captain, instead of flying into a rage, smiled,

and, thrusting his hand into the voluminous shawl that encircled

his waist, turned on his heel and walked aft, while I went below.

Here, instead of being rudely handled, as I had expected, the men

received me with a shout of laughter, and one of them, patting me

on the back, said, “Well done, lad! you’re a brick, and I have no

doubt will turn out a rare cove. Bloody Bill, there, was just such

a fellow as you are, and he’s now the biggest cut-throat of us

all.”

“Take a can of beer, lad,” cried another, “and wet your whistle

after that speech o’ your’n to the captain. If any one o’ us had

made it, youngster, he would have had no whistle to wet by this

time.”

“Stop your clapper, Jack,” vociferated a third; “give the boy a

junck o’ meat. Don’t you see he’s a’most goin’ to kick the

bucket?”

“And no wonder,” said the first speaker, with an oath, “after the

tumble you gave him into the boat. I guess it would have broke

YOUR neck if you had got it.”

I did indeed feel somewhat faint; which was owing, doubtless, to

the combined effects of ill-usage and hunger; for it will be

recollected that I had dived out of the cave that morning before

breakfast, and it was now near mid-day. I therefore gladly

accepted a plate of boiled pork and a yam, which were handed to me

by one of the men from the locker on which some of the crew were

seated eating their dinner. But I must add that the zest with

which I ate my meal was much abated in consequence of the frightful

oaths and the terrible language that flowed from the lips of these

godless men, even in the midst of their hilarity and good-humour.

The man who had been alluded to as Bloody Bill was seated near me,

and I could not help wondering at the moody silence he maintained

among his comrades. He did indeed reply to their questions in a

careless, off-hand tone, but he never volunteered a remark. The

only difference between him and the others was his taciturnity and

his size, for he was nearly, if not quite, as large a man as the

captain.

During the remainder of the afternoon I was left to my own

reflections, which were anything but agreeable, for I could not

banish from my mind the threat about the thumb-screws, of the

nature and use of which I had a vague but terrible conception. I

was still meditating on my unhappy fate when, just after night-fall, one of the watch on deck called down the hatchway, -

“Hallo there! one o’ you, tumble up and light the cabin lamp, and

send that boy aft to the captain - sharp!”

“Now then, do you hear, youngster? the captain wants you. Look

alive,” said Bloody Bill, raising his huge frame from the locker on

which he had been asleep for the last two hours. He sprang up the

ladder and I instantly followed him, and, going aft, was shown into

the cabin by one of the men, who closed the door after me.

A small silver lamp which hung from a beam threw a dim soft light

over the cabin, which was a small apartment, and comfortably but

plainly finished. Seated on a camp-stool at the table, and busily

engaged in examining a chart of the Pacific, was the captain, who

looked up as I entered, and, in a quiet voice, bade me be seated,

while he threw down his pencil, and, rising from the table,

stretched himself on a sofa at the upper end of the cabin.

“Boy,” said he, looking me full in the face, “what is your name?”

“Ralph Rover,” I replied.

“Where did you come from, and how came you to be on that island?

How many companions had you on it? Answer me, now, and mind you

tell no lies.”

“I never tell lies,” said I, firmly.

The captain received this reply with a cold sarcastic smile, and

bade me answer his questions.

I then told him the history of myself and my companions from the

time we sailed till the day of his visit to the island, taking

care, however, to make no mention of the Diamond Cave. After I had

concluded, he was silent for a few minutes; then, looking up, he

said - “Boy, I believe you.”

I was surprised at this remark, for I could not imagine why he

should not believe me. However, I made no reply.

“And what,” continued the captain, “makes you think that this

schooner is a pirate?”

“The black flag,” said I, “showed me what you are; and if any

further proof were wanting I have had it in the brutal treatment I

have received at your hands.”

The captain frowned as I spoke, but subduing his anger he continued

- “Boy, you are too bold. I admit that we treated you roughly, but

that was because you made us lose time and gave us a good deal of

trouble. As to the black flag, that is merely a joke that my

fellows play off upon people sometimes in order to frighten them.

It is their humour, and does no harm. I am no pirate, boy, but a

lawful trader, - a rough one, I grant you, but one can’t help that

in these seas, where there are so many pirates on the water and

such murderous blackguards on the land. I carry on a trade in

sandal-wood with the Feejee Islands; and if you choose, Ralph, to

behave yourself and be a good boy, I’ll take you along with me and

give you a good share of the profits. You see I’m in want of an

honest boy like you, to look after the cabin and keep the log, and

superintend the traffic on shore sometimes. What say you, Ralph,

would you like to become a sandal-wood trader?”

I was much surprised by this explanation, and a good deal relieved

to find that the vessel, after all, was not a pirate; but instead

of replying I said, “If it be as you state, then why did you take

me from my island, and why do you not now take me back?”

The captain smiled as he replied, “I took you off in anger, boy,

and I’m sorry for it. I would even now take you back, but we are

too far away from it. See, there it is,” he added, laying his

finger on the chart, “and we are now here, - fifty miles at least.

It would not be fair to my men to put about now, for they have all

an interest in the trade.”

I could make no reply to this; so, after a little more

conversation, I agreed to become one of the crew, at least until we

could reach some civilized island where I might be put ashore. The

captain assented to this proposition, and after thanking him for

the promise, I left the cabin and went on deck with feelings that

ought to have been lighter, but which were, I could not tell why,

marvellously heavy and uncomfortable still.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Bloody Bill - Dark surmises - A strange sail, and a strange crew,

and a still stranger cargo - New reasons for favouring missionaries

- A murderous massacre, and thoughts thereon.

THREE weeks after the conversation narrated in the last chapter, I

was standing on the quarterdeck of the schooner watching the

gambols of a shoal of porpoises that swam round us. It was a dead

calm. One of those still, hot, sweltering days, so common in the

Pacific, when Nature seems to have gone to sleep, and the only

thing in water or in air that proves her still alive, is her long,

deep breathing, in the swell of the mighty sea. No cloud floated

in the deep blue above; no ripple broke the reflected blue below.

The sun shone fiercely in the sky, and a ball of fire blazed, with

almost equal power, from out the bosom of the water. So intensely

still was it, and so perfectly transparent was the surface of the

deep, that had it not been for the long swell already alluded to,

we might have believed the surrounding universe to be a huge blue

liquid ball, and our little ship the one solitary material speck in

all creation, floating in the midst of it.

No sound broke on our ears save the soft puff now and then of a

porpoise, the slow creak of the masts, as we swayed gently on the

swell, the patter of the reef-points, and the occasional flap of

the hanging sails. An awning covered the fore and after parts of

the schooner, under which the men composing the watch on deck

lolled in sleepy indolence, overcome with excessive heat. Bloody

Bill, as the men invariably called him, was standing at the tiller,

but his post for the present was a sinecure, and he whiled away the

time by alternately gazing in dreamy abstraction at the compass in

the binnacle, and by walking to the taffrail in order to spit into

the sea. In one of these turns he came near to where I was

standing, and, leaning over the side, looked long and earnestly

down into the blue wave.

This man, although he was always taciturn and often surly, was the

only human being on board with whom I had the slightest desire to

become better acquainted. The other men, seeing that I did not

relish their company, and knowing that I was a protege of the

captain, treated me with total indifference. Bloody Bill, it is

true, did the same; but as this was his conduct towards every one

else, it was not peculiar in reference to me. Once or twice I

tried to draw him into conversation, but he always turned away

after a few cold monosyllables. As he now leaned over the taffrail

close beside me, I said to him, -

“Bill, why is it that you are so gloomy? Why do you never speak to

any one?”

Bill smiled slightly as he replied, “Why, I s’pose it’s because I

haint got nothin’ to say!”

“That’s strange,” said I, musingly; “you look like a man that could

think, and such men can usually speak.”

“So they can, youngster,” rejoined Bill, somewhat sternly; “and I

could speak too if I had a mind to, but what’s the use o’ speakin’

here! The men only open their mouths to curse and swear, an’ they

seem to find it entertaining; but I don’t, so I hold my tongue.”

“Well, Bill, that’s true, and I would rather not hear you speak at

all than hear you speak like the other men; but I don’t swear,

Bill, so you might talk to me sometimes, I think. Besides, I’m

weary of spending day after day in this way, without a single soul

to say a pleasant word to. I’ve been used to friendly

conversation, Bill, and I really would take it kind if you would

talk with me a little now and then.”

Bill looked at me in surprise, and I thought I observed a sad

expression pass across his sun-burnt face.

“An’ where have you been used to friendly conversation,” said Bill,

looking down again into the sea; “not on that Coral Island, I take

it?”

“Yes, indeed,” said I energetically; “I have spent many of the

happiest months in my life on that Coral Island;” and without

waiting to be further questioned, I launched out into a glowing

account of the happy life that Jack and Peterkin and I had spent

together, and related minutely every circumstance that befell us

while on the island.

“Boy, boy,” said Bill, in a voice so deep that it startled me,

“this is no place for you.”

“That’s true,” said I; “I’m of little use on board, and I don’t

like my comrades; but I can’t help it, and at anyrate I hope to be

free again soon.”

“Free?” said Bill, looking at me in surprise.

“Yes, free,” returned I; “the captain said he would put me ashore

after this trip was over.”

“THIS TRIP! Hark’ee, boy,” said Bill, lowering his voice, “what

said the captain to you the day you came aboard?”

“He said that he was a trader in sandal-wood and no pirate, and

told me that if I would join him for this trip he would give me a

good share of the profits or put me on shore in some civilized

island if I chose.”

Bill’s brows lowered savagely as he muttered, “Ay, he said truth

when he told you he was a sandal-wood trader, but he lied when - “

“Sail ho!” shouted the lookout at the masthead.

“Where, away?” cried Bill, springing to the tiller; while the men,

startled by the sudden cry jumped up and gazed round the horizon.

“On the starboard quarter, hull down, sir,” answered the lookout.

At this moment the captain came on deck, and mounting into the

rigging, surveyed the sail through the glass. Then sweeping his

eye round the horizon he gazed steadily at a particular point.

“Take in topsails,” shouted the captain, swinging himself down on

the deck by the main-back stay.

“Take in topsails,” roared the first mate.

“Ay, ay, sir-r-r,” answered the men as they sprang into the rigging

and went aloft like cats.

Instantly all was bustle on board the hitherto quiet schooner. The

topsails were taken in and stowed, the men stood by the sheets and

halyards, and the captain gazed anxiously at the breeze which was

now rushing towards us like a sheet of dark blue. In a few seconds

it struck us. The schooner trembled as if in surprise at the

sudden onset, while she fell away, then bending gracefully to the

wind, as though in acknowledgment of her subjection, she cut

through the waves with her sharp prow like a dolphin, while Bill

directed her course towards the strange sail.

In half an hour we neared her sufficiently to make out that she was

a schooner, and, from the clumsy appearance of her masts and sails

we judged her to be a trader. She evidently did not like our

appearance, for, the instant the breeze reached her, she crowded

all sail and showed us her stern. As the breeze had moderated a

little our topsails were again shaken out, and it soon became

evident, - despite the proverb, “A stern chase is a long one,” that

we doubled her speed and would overhaul her speedily. When within

a mile we hoisted British colours, but receiving no acknowledgment,

the captain ordered a shot to be fired across her bows. In a

moment, to my surprise, a large portion of the bottom of the boat

amidships was removed, and in the hole thus exposed appeared an

immense brass gun. It worked on a swivel and was elevated by means

of machinery. It was quickly loaded and fired. The heavy ball

struck the water a few yards ahead of the chase, and, ricochetting

into the air, plunged into the sea a mile beyond it.

This produced the desired effect. The strange vessel backed her

topsails and hove-to, while we ranged up and lay-to, about a

hundred yards off.

“Lower the boat,” cried the captain.

In a second the boat was lowered and manned by a part of the crew,

who were all armed with cutlasses and pistols. As the captain

passed me to get into it, he said, “jump into the stern sheets,

Ralph, I may want you.” I obeyed, and in ten minutes more we were

standing on the stranger’s deck. We were all much surprised at the

sight that met our eyes. Instead of a crew of such sailors as we

were accustomed to see, there were only fifteen blacks standing on

the quarterdeck and regarding us with looks of undisguised alarm.

They were totally unarmed and most of them unclothed; one or two,

however, wore portions of European attire. One had on a pair of

duck trousers which were much too large for him and stuck out in a

most ungainly manner. Another wore nothing but the common scanty

native garment round the loins, and a black beaver hat. But the

most ludicrous personage of all, and one who seemed to be chief,

was a tall middle-aged man, of a mild, simple expression of

countenance, who wore a white cotton shirt, a swallow-tailed coat,

and a straw hat, while his black brawny legs were totally uncovered

below the knees.

“Where’s the commander of this ship?” inquired our captain,

stepping up to this individual.

“I is capin,” he answered, taking off his straw hat and making a

low bow.

“You!” said our captain, in surprise. “Where do you come from, and

where are you bound? What cargo have you aboard?”

“We is come,” answered the man with the swallow-tail, “from

Aitutaki; we was go for Rarotonga. We is native miss’nary ship;

our name is de OLIVE BRANCH; an’ our cargo is two tons cocoa-nuts,

seventy pigs, twenty cats, and de Gosp’l.”

This announcement was received by the crew of our vessel with a

shout of laughter, which, however, was peremptorily checked by the

captain, whose expression instantly changed from one of severity to

that of frank urbanity as he advanced towards the missionary and

shook him warmly by the hand.

“I am very glad to have fallen in with you,” said he, “and I wish

you much success in your missionary labours. Pray take me to your

cabin, as I wish to converse with you privately.”

The missionary immediately took him by the hand, and as he led him

away I heard him saying, “Me most glad to find you trader; we

t’ought you be pirate. You very like one ‘bout the masts.”

What conversation the captain had with this man I never heard, but

he came on deck again in a quarter of an hour, and, shaking hands

cordially with the missionary, ordered us into our boat and

returned to the schooner, which was immediately put before the

wind. In a few minutes the OLIVE BRANCH was left far behind us.

That afternoon, as I was down below at dinner, I heard the men

talking about this curious ship.

“I wonder,” said one, “why our captain looked so sweet on yon

swallow-tailed super-cargo o’ pigs and Gospels. If it had been an

ordinary trader, now, he would have taken as many o’ the pigs as he

required and sent the ship with all on board to the bottom.”

“Why, Dick, you must be new to these seas if you don’t know that,”

cried another. “The captain cares as much for the gospel as you do

(an’ that’s precious little), but he knows, and everybody knows,

that the only place among the southern islands where a ship can put

in and get what she wants in comfort, is where the gospel has been

sent to. There are hundreds o’ islands, at this blessed moment,

where you might as well jump straight into a shark’s maw as land

without a band o’ thirty comrades armed to the teeth to back you.”

“Ay,” said a man with a deep scar over his right eye, “Dick’s new

to the work. But if the captain takes us for a cargo o’ sandal-wood to the Feejees he’ll get a taste o’ these black gentry in

their native condition. For my part I don’t know, an’ I don’t

care, what the gospel does to them; but I know that when any o’ the

islands chance to get it, trade goes all smooth an’ easy; but where

they ha’nt got it, Beelzebub himself could hardly desire better

company.”

“Well, you ought to be a good judge,” cried another, laughing, “for

you’ve never kept any company but the worst all your life!”

“Ralph Rover!” shouted a voice down the hatchway. “Captain wants

you, aft.”

Springing up the ladder I hastened to the cabin, pondering as I

went the strange testimony borne by these men to the effect of the

gospel on savage natures; - testimony which, as it was perfectly

disinterested, I had no doubt whatever was strictly true.

On coming again on deck I found Bloody Bill at the helm, and as we

were alone together I tried to draw him into conversation. After

repeating to him the conversation in the forecastle about the

missionaries, I said, -

“Tell me, Bill, is this schooner really a trader in sandal-wood?”

“Yes, Ralph, she is; but she’s just as really a pirate. The black

flag you saw flying at the peak was no deception.”

“Then how can you say she’s a trader?” asked I.

“Why, as to that, she trades when she can’t take by force, but she

takes by force, when she can, in preference. Ralph,” he added,

lowering his voice, “if you had seen the bloody deeds that I have

witnessed done on these decks you would not need to ask if we were

pirates. But you’ll find it out soon enough. As for the

missionaries, the captain favours them because they are useful to

him. The South-Sea islanders are such incarnate fiends that they

are the better of being tamed, and the missionaries are the only

men who can do it.”

Our track after this lay through several clusters of small islets,

among which we were becalmed more than once. During this part of

our voyage the watch on deck and the lookout at the masthead were

more than usually vigilant, as we were not only in danger of being

attacked by the natives, who, I learned from the captain’s remarks,

were a bloody and deceitful tribe at this group, but we were also

exposed to much risk from the multitudes of coral reefs that rose

up in the channels between the islands, some of them just above the

surface, others a few feet below it. Our precautions against the

savages I found were indeed necessary.

One day we were becalmed among a group of small islands, most of

which appeared to be uninhabited. As we were in want of fresh

water the captain sent the boat ashore to bring off a cask or two.

But we were mistaken in thinking there were no natives; for

scarcely had we drawn near to the shore when a band of naked blacks

rushed out of the bush and assembled on the beach, brandishing

their clubs and spears in a threatening manner. Our men were well

armed, but refrained from showing any signs of hostility, and rowed

nearer in order to converse with the natives; and I now found that

more than one of the crew could imperfectly speak dialects of the

language peculiar to the South Sea islanders. When within forty

yards of the shore, we ceased rowing, and the first mate stood up

to address the multitude; but, instead of answering us, they

replied with a shower of stones, some of which cut the men

severely. Instantly our muskets were levelled, and a volley was

about to be fired, when the captain hailed us in a loud voice from

the schooner, which lay not more than five or six hundred yards off

the shore.

“Don’t fire,” he shouted, angrily. “Pull off to the point ahead of

you.”

The men looked surprised at this order, and uttered deep curses as

they prepared to obey, for their wrath was roused and they burned

for revenge. Three or four of them hesitated, and seemed disposed

to mutiny.

“Don’t distress yourselves, lads,” said the mate, while a bitter

smile curled his lip. “Obey orders. The captain’s not the man to

take an insult tamely. If Long Tom does not speak presently I’ll

give myself to the sharks.”

The men smiled significantly as they pulled from the shore, which

was now crowded with a dense mass of savages, amounting, probably,

to five or six hundred. We had not rowed off above a couple of

hundred yards when a loud roar thundered over the sea, and the big

brass gun sent a withering shower of grape point blank into the

midst of the living mass, through which a wide lane was cut, while

a yell, the like of which I could not have imagined, burst from the

miserable survivors as they fled to the woods. Amongst the heaps

of dead that lay on the sand, just where they had fallen, I could

distinguish mutilated forms writhing in agony, while ever and anon

one and another rose convulsively from out the mass, endeavoured to

stagger towards the wood, and ere they had taken a few steps, fell

and wallowed on the bloody sand. My blood curdled within me as I

witnessed this frightful and wanton slaughter; but I had little

time to think, for the captain’s deep voice came again over the

water towards us: “Pull ashore, lads, and fill your water casks.”

The men obeyed in silence, and it seemed to me as if even their

hard hearts were shocked by the ruthless deed. On gaining the

mouth of the rivulet at which we intended to take in water, we

found it flowing with blood, for the greater part of those who were

slain had been standing on the banks of the stream, a short way

above its mouth. Many of the wretched creatures had fallen into

it, and we found one body, which had been carried down, jammed

between two rocks, with the staring eyeballs turned towards us and

his black hair waving in the ripples of the blood-red stream. No

one dared to oppose our landing now, so we carried our casks to a

pool above the murdered group, and having filled them, returned on

board. Fortunately a breeze sprang up soon afterwards and carried

us away from the dreadful spot; but it could not waft me away from

the memory of what I had seen.

“And this,” thought I, gazing in horror at the captain, who, with a

quiet look of indifference, leaned upon the taffrail smoking a

cigar and contemplating the fertile green islets as they passed

like a lovely picture before our eyes - “this is the man who

favours the missionaries because they are useful to him and can

tame the savages better than any one else can do it!” Then I

wondered in my mind whether it were possible for any missionary to

tame HIM!

CHAPTER XXIV.

Bloody Bill is communicative and sagacious - Unpleasant prospects -

Retrospective meditations interrupted by volcanic agency - The

pirates negotiate with a Feejee chief - Various etceteras that are

calculated to surprise and horrify.

IT was many days after the events just narrated ere I recovered a

little of my wonted spirits. I could not shake off the feeling for

a long time that I was in a frightful dream, and the sight of our

captain filled me with so much horror that I kept out of his way as

much as my duties about the cabin would permit. Fortunately he

took so little notice of me that he did not observe my changed

feelings towards him, otherwise it might have been worse for me.

But I was now resolved that I would run away the very first island

we should land at, and commit myself to the hospitality of the

natives rather than remain an hour longer than I could help in the

pirate schooner. I pondered this subject a good deal, and at last

made up my mind to communicate my intention to Bloody Bill; for,

during several talks I had had with him of late, I felt assured

that he too would willingly escape if possible. When I told him of

my design he shook his head. “No, no, Ralph,” said he, “you must

not think of running away here. Among some of the groups of

islands you might do so with safety, but if you tried it here you

would find that you had jumped out of the fryin’ pan into the

fire.”

“How so, Bill?” said I, “would the natives not receive me?”

“That they would, lad; but they would eat you too.”

“Eat me!” said I in surprise, “I thought the South Sea islanders

never ate anybody except their enemies.”

“Humph!” ejaculated Bill. “I s’pose ‘twas yer tender-hearted

friends in England that put that notion into your head. There’s a

set o’ soft-hearted folk at home that I knows on, who don’t like to

have their feelin’s ruffled, and when you tell them anything they

don’t like - that shocks them, as they call it - no matter how true

it be, they stop their ears and cry out, ‘Oh, that is TOO horrible!

We can’t believe that!’ An’ they say truth. They can’t believe it

‘cause they won’t believe it. Now, I believe there’s thousands o’

the people in England who are sich born drivellin’ WON’T-BELIEVERS

that they think the black fellows hereaway, at the worst, eat an

enemy only now an’ then, out o’ spite; whereas, I know for certain,

and many captains of the British and American navies know as well

as me, that the Feejee islanders eat not only their enemies but one

another; and they do it not for spite, but for pleasure. It’s a

FACT that they prefer human flesh to any other. But they don’t

like white men’s flesh so well as black. They say it makes them

sick.”

“Why, Bill,” said I, “you told me just now that they would eat ME

if they caught me.”

“So I did; and so I think they would. I’ve only heard some o’ them

say they don’t like white men SO WELL as black; but if they was

hungry they wouldn’t be particular. Anyhow, I’m sure they would

kill you. You see, Ralph, I’ve been a good while in them parts,

and I’ve visited the different groups of islands oftentimes as a

trader. And thorough goin’ blackguards some o’ them traders are.

No better than pirates, I can tell you. One captain that I sailed

with was not a chip better than the one we’re with now. He was

tradin’ with a friendly chief one day, aboard his vessel. The

chief had swam off to us with the things for trade tied a-top of

his head, for them chaps are like otters in the water. Well, the

chief was hard on the captain, and would not part with some o’ his

things. When their bargainin’ was over they shook hands, and the

chief jumped over board to swim ashore; but before he got forty

yards from the ship the captain seized a musket and shot him dead.

He then hove up anchor and put to sea, and as we sailed along

shore, he dropped six black-fellows with his rifle, remarkin’ that

‘that would spoil the trade for the next comers.’ But, as I was

sayin’, I’m up to the ways o’ these fellows. One o’ the laws o’

the country is, that every shipwrecked person who happens to be

cast ashore, be he dead or alive, is doomed to be roasted and

eaten. There was a small tradin’ schooner wrecked off one of these

islands when we were lyin’ there in harbour during a storm. The

crew was lost, all but three men, who swam ashore. The moment they

landed they were seized by the natives and carried up into the

woods. We knew pretty well what their fate would be, but we could

not help them, for our crew was small, and if we had gone ashore

they would likely have killed us all. We never saw the three men

again; but we heard frightful yelling, and dancing, and merry-making that night; and one of the natives, who came aboard to trade

with us next day, told us that the LONG PIGS, as he called the men,

had been roasted and eaten, and their bones were to be converted

into sail needles. He also said that white men were bad to eat,

and that most o’ the people on shore were sick.”

I was very much shocked and cast down in my mind at this terrible

account of the natives, and asked Bill what he would advise me to

do. Looking round the deck to make sure that we were not

overheard, he lowered his voice and said, “There are two or three

ways that we might escape, Ralph, but none o’ them’s easy. If the

captain would only sail for some o’ the islands near Tahiti, we

might run away there well enough, because the natives are all

Christians; an’ we find that wherever the savages take up with

Christianity they always give over their bloody ways, and are safe

to be trusted. I never cared for Christianity myself,” he

continued, in a soliloquising voice, “and I don’t well know what it

means; but a man with half an eye can see what it does for these

black critters. However, the captain always keeps a sharp look out

after us when we get to these islands, for he half suspects that

one or two o’ us are tired of his company. Then, we might manage

to cut the boat adrift some fine night when it’s our watch on deck,

and clear off before they discovered that we were gone. But we

would run the risk o’ bein’ caught by the blacks. I wouldn’t like

to try that plan. But you and I will think over it, Ralph, and see

what’s to be done. In the meantime it’s our watch below, so I’ll

go and turn in.”

Bill then bade me good night, and went below, while a comrade took

his place at the helm; but, feeling no desire to enter into

conversation with him, I walked aft, and, leaning over the stern,

looked down into the phosphorescent waves that gargled around the

ladder, and streamed out like a flame of blue light in the vessel’s

wake. My thoughts were very sad, and I could scarce refrain from

tears as I contrasted my present wretched position with the happy,

peaceful time, I had spent on the Coral Island with my dear

companions. As I thought upon Jack and Peterkin anxious

forebodings crossed my mind, and I pictured to myself the grief and

dismay with which they would search every nook and corner of the

island, in a vain attempt to discover my dead body; for I felt

assured that if they did not see any sign of the pirate schooner or

boat, when they came out of the cave to look for me, they would

never imagine that I had been carried away. I wondered, too, how

Jack would succeed in getting Peterkin out of the cave without my

assistance; and I trembled when I thought that he might lose

presence of mind, and begin to kick when he was in the tunnel!

These thoughts were suddenly interrupted and put to flight by a

bright red blaze which lighted up the horizon to the southward, and

cut a crimson glow far over the sea. This appearance was

accompanied by a low growling sound, as of distant thunder, and, at

the same time, the sky above us became black, while a hot stifling

wind blew around us in fitful gusts.

The crew assembled hastily on deck, and most of them were under the

belief that a frightful hurricane was pending; but the captain

coming on deck, soon explained the phenomena.

“It’s only a volcano,” said he. “I knew there was one hereabouts,

but thought it was extinct. Up there and furl top-gallant-sails;

we’ll likely have a breeze, and it’s well to be ready.”

As he spoke, a shower began to fall, which we quickly observed was

not rain, but fine ashes. As we were many miles distant from the

volcano, these must have been carried to us from it by the wind.

As the captain had predicted, a stiff breeze soon afterwards sprang

up, under the influence of which we speedily left the volcano far

behind us; but during the greater part of the night we could see

its lurid glare and hear its distant thunder. The shower did not

cease to fall for several hours, and we must have sailed under it

for nearly forty miles, perhaps farther. When we emerged from the

cloud, our decks and every part of the rigging were completely

covered with a thick coat of ashes. I was much interested in this,

and recollected that Jack had often spoken of many of the islands

of the Pacific as being volcanoes, either active or extinct, and

had said that the whole region was more or less volcanic, and that

some scientific men were of opinion that the islands of the Pacific

were nothing more or less than the mountain tops of a huge

continent which had sunk under the influence of volcanic agency.

Three days after passing the volcano, we found ourselves a few

miles to windward of an island of considerable size and luxuriant

aspect. It consisted of two mountains, which seemed to be nearly

four thousand feet high. They were separated from each other by a

broad valley, whose thick-growing trees ascended a considerable

distance up the mountain sides; and rich level plains, or meadow-land, spread round the base of the mountains, except at the point

immediately opposite the large valley, where a river seemed to

carry the trees, as it were, along with it down to the white sandy

shore. The mountain tops, unlike those of our Coral Island, were

sharp, needle-shaped, and bare, while their sides were more rugged

and grand in outline than anything I had yet seen in those seas.

Bloody Bill was beside me when the island first hove in sight.

“Ha!” he exclaimed, “I know that island well. They call it Emo.”

“Have you been here before, then?” I inquired.

“Ay, that I have, often, and so has this schooner. ‘Tis a famous

island for sandal-wood. We have taken many cargoes off it already,

and have paid for them too; for the savages are so numerous that we

dared not try to take it by force. But our captain has tried to

cheat them so often, that they’re beginnin’ not to like us overmuch

now. Besides, the men behaved ill the last time we were here; and

I wonder the captain is not afraid to venture. But he’s afraid o’

nothing earthly, I believe.”

We soon ran inside the barrier coral-reef, and let go our anchor in

six fathoms water, just opposite the mouth of a small creek, whose

shores were densely covered with mangroves and tall umbrageous

trees. The principal village of the natives lay about half a mile

from this point. Ordering the boat out, the captain jumped into

it, and ordered me to follow him. The men, fifteen in number, were

well armed; and the mate was directed to have Long Tom ready for

emergencies.

“Give way, lads,” cried the captain.

The oars fell into the water at the word, the boat shot from the

schooner’s side, and in a few minutes reached the shore. Here,

contrary to our expectation, we were met with the utmost cordiality

by Romata, the principal chief of the island, who conducted us to

his house, and gave us mats to sit upon. I observed in passing

that the natives, of whom there were two or three thousand, were

totally unarmed.

After a short preliminary palaver, a feast of baked pigs and

various roots was spread before us; of which we partook sparingly,

and then proceeded to business. The captain stated his object in

visiting the island, regretted that there had been a slight

misunderstanding during the last visit, and hoped that no ill-will

was borne by either party, and that a satisfactory trade would be

accomplished.

Romata answered that he had forgotten there had been any

differences between them, protested that he was delighted to see

his friends again, and assured them they should have every

assistance in cutting and embarking the wood. The terms were

afterwards agreed on, and we rose to depart. All this conversation

was afterwards explained to me by Bill, who understood the language

pretty well.

Romata accompanied us on board, and explained that a great chief

from another island was then on a visit to him, and that he was to

be ceremoniously entertained on the following day. After begging

to be allowed to introduce him to us, and receiving permission, he

sent his canoe ashore to bring him off. At the same time he gave

orders to bring on board his two favourites, a cock and a paroquet.

While the canoe was gone on this errand, I had time to regard the

savage chief attentively. He was a man of immense size, with

massive but beautifully moulded limbs and figure, only parts of

which, the broad chest and muscular arms, were uncovered; for,

although the lower orders generally wore no other clothing than a

strip of cloth called MARO round their loins, the chief, on

particular occasions, wrapped his person in voluminous folds of a

species of native cloth made from the bark of the Chinese paper-mulberry. Romata wore a magnificent black beard and moustache, and

his hair was frizzed out to such an extent that it resembled a

large turban, in which was stuck a long wooden pin! I afterwards

found that this pin served for scratching the head, for which

purpose the fingers were too short without disarranging the hair.

But Romata put himself to much greater inconvenience on account of

his hair, for we found that he slept with his head resting on a

wooden pillow, in which was cut a hollow for the neck, so that the

hair of the sleeper might not be disarranged.

In ten minutes the canoe returned, bringing the other chief, who

certainly presented a most extraordinary appearance, having painted

one half of his face red and the other half yellow, besides

ornamenting it with various designs in black! Otherwise he was

much the same in appearance as Romata, though not so powerfully

built. As this chief had never seen a ship before, except,

perchance, some of the petty traders that at long intervals visit

these remote islands, he was much taken up with the neatness and

beauty of all the fittings of the schooner. He was particularly

struck with a musket which was shown to him, and asked where the

white men got hatchets hard enough to cut the tree of which the

barrel was made! While he was thus engaged, his brother chief

stood aloof, talking with the captain, and fondling a superb cock

and a little blue-headed paroquet, the favourites of which I have

before spoken. I observed that all the other natives walked in a

crouching posture while in the presence of Romata. Before our

guests left us, the captain ordered the brass gun to be uncovered

and fired for their gratification; and I have every reason to

believe he did so for the purpose of showing our superior power, in

case the natives should harbour any evil designs against us.

Romata had never seen this gun before, as it had not been uncovered

on previous visits, and the astonishment with which he viewed it

was very amusing. Being desirous of knowing its power, he begged

that the captain would fire it. So a shot was put into it. The

chiefs were then directed to look at a rock about two miles out at

sea, and the gun was fired. In a second the top of the rock was

seen to burst asunder, and to fall in fragments into the sea.

Romata was so delighted with the success of this shot, that he

pointed to a man who was walking on the shore, and begged the

captain to fire at him, evidently supposing that his permission was

quite sufficient to justify the captain in such an act. He was

therefore surprised, and not a little annoyed, when the captain

refused to fire at the native, and ordered the gun to be housed.

Of all the things, however, that afforded matter of amusement to

these savages, that which pleased Romata’s visitor most was the

ship’s pump. He never tired of examining it, and pumping up the

water. Indeed, so much was he taken up with this pump, that he

could not be prevailed on to return on shore, but sent a canoe to

fetch his favourite stool, on which he seated himself, and spent

the remainder of the day in pumping the bilge-water out of the

ship!

Next day the crew went ashore to cut sandal-wood, while the

captain, with one or two men, remained on board, in order to be

ready, if need be, with the brass gun, which was unhoused and

conspicuously elevated, with its capacious muzzle directed point

blank at the chief’s house. The men were fully armed as usual; and

the captain ordered me to go with them, to assist in the work. I

was much pleased with this order, for it freed me from the

captain’s company, which I could not now endure, and it gave me an

opportunity of seeing the natives.

As we wound along in single file through the rich fragrant groves

of banana, cocoa-nut, bread-fruit, and other trees, I observed that

there were many of the plum and banian trees, with which I had

become familiar on the Coral Island. I noticed also large

quantities of taro-roots, yams, and sweet potatoes, growing in

enclosures. On turning into an open glade of the woods, we came

abruptly upon a cluster of native houses. They were built chiefly

of bamboos, and were thatched with the large thick leaves of the

pandanus; but many of them had little more than a sloping roof and

three sides with an open front, being the most simple shelter from

the weather that could well be imagined. Within these, and around

them, were groups of natives - men, women, and children - who all

stood up to gaze at us as we marched along, followed by the party

of men whom the chief had sent to escort us. About half a mile

inland we arrived at the spot where the sandal-wood grew, and,

while the men set to work, I clambered up an adjoining hill to

observe the country.

About mid-day, the chief arrived with several followers, one of

whom carried a baked pig on a wooden platter, with yams and

potatoes on several plantain leaves, which he presented to the men,

who sat down under the shade of a tree to dine. The chief sat down

to dine also; but, to my surprise, instead of feeding himself, one

of his wives performed that office for him! I was seated beside

Bill, and asked him the reason of this.

“It is beneath his dignity, I believe, to feed himself,” answered

Bill; “but I daresay he’s not particular, except on great

occasions. They’ve a strange custom among them, Ralph, which is

called TABU, and they carry it to great lengths. If a man chooses

a particular tree for his god, the fruit o’ that tree is tabued to

him; and if he eats it, he is sure to be killed by his people, and

eaten, of course, for killing means eating hereaway. Then, you see

that great mop o’ hair on the chief’s head? Well, he has a lot o’

barbers to keep it in order; and it’s a law that whoever touches

the head of a living chief or the body of a dead one, his hands are

tabued; so, in that way, the barbers’ hands are always tabued, and

they daren’t use them for their lives, but have to be fed like big

babies, as they are, sure enough!”

“That’s odd, Bill. But look there,” said I, pointing to a man

whose skin was of a much lighter colour than the generality of the

natives. “I’ve seen a few of these light-skinned fellows among the

Fejeeans. They seem to me to be of quite a different race.”

“So they are,” answered Bill. “These fellows come from the Tongan

Islands, which lie a long way to the eastward. They come here to

build their big war-canoes; and as these take two, and sometimes

four years, to build, there’s always some o’ the brown-skins among

the black sarpents o’ these islands.”

“By the way, Bill,” said I, “your mentioning serpents, reminds me

that I have not seen a reptile of any kind since I came to this

part of the world.”

“No more there are any,” said Bill, “if ye except the niggers

themselves, there’s none on the islands, but a lizard or two and

some sich harmless things. But I never seed any myself. If

there’s none on the land, however, there’s more than enough in the

water, and that minds me of a wonderful brute they have here. But,

come, I’ll show it to you.” So saying, Bill arose, and, leaving

the men still busy with the baked pig, led me into the forest.

After proceeding a short distance we came upon a small pond of

stagnant water. A native lad had followed us, to whom we called

and beckoned him to come to us. On Bill saying a few words to him,

which I did not understand, the boy advanced to the edge of the

pond, and gave a low peculiar whistle. Immediately the water

became agitated and an enormous eel thrust its head above the

surface and allowed the youth to touch it. It was about twelve

feet long, and as thick round the body as a man’s thigh.

“There,” said Bill, his lip curling with contempt, “what do you

think of that for a god, Ralph? This is one o’ their gods, and it

has been fed with dozens o’ livin’ babies already. How many more

it’ll get afore it dies is hard to say.”

“Babies?” said I, with an incredulous look

“Ay, babies,” returned Bill. “Your soft-hearted folk at home would

say, ‘Oh, horrible! impossible!’ to that, and then go away as

comfortable and unconcerned as if their sayin’ ‘horrible!

impossible!’ had made it a lie. But I tell you, Ralph, it’s a

FACT. I’ve seed it with my own eyes the last time I was here, an’

mayhap if you stop a while at this accursed place, and keep a sharp

look out, you’ll see it too. They don’t feed it regularly with

livin’ babies, but they give it one now and then as a treat. Bah!

you brute!’ cried Bill, in disgust, giving the reptile a kick on

the snout with his heavy boot, that sent it sweltering back in

agony into its loathsome pool. I thought it lucky for Bill, indeed

for all of us, that the native youth’s back happened to be turned

at the time, for I am certain that if the poor savages had come to

know that we had so rudely handled their god, we should have had to

fight our way back to the ship. As we retraced our steps I

questioned my companion further on this subject.

“How comes it, Bill, that the mothers allow such a dreadful thing

to be done?”

“Allow it? the mothers DO it! It seems to me that there’s nothing

too fiendish or diabolical for these people to do. Why, in some of

the islands they have an institution called the AREOI, and the

persons connected with that body are ready for any wickedness that

mortal man can devise. In fact they stick at nothing; and one o’

their customs is to murder their infants the moment they are born.

The mothers agree to it, and the fathers do it. And the mildest

ways they have of murdering them is by sticking them through the

body with sharp splinters of bamboo, strangling them with their

thumbs, or burying them alive and stamping them to death while

under the sod.”

I felt sick at heart while my companion recited these horrors.

“But it’s a curious fact,” he continued, after a pause, during

which we walked in silence towards the spot where we had left our

comrades, - “it’s a curious fact, that wherever the missionaries

get a footin’ all these things come to an end at once, an’ the

savages take to doin’ each other good, and singin’ psalms, just

like Methodists.”

“God bless the missionaries!” said I, while a feeling of enthusiasm

filled my heart, so that I could speak with difficulty. “God bless

and prosper the missionaries till they get a footing in every

island of the sea!”

“I would say Amen to that prayer, Ralph, if I could,” said Bill, in

a deep, sad voice; “but it would be a mere mockery for a man to ask

a blessing for others who dare not ask one for himself. But,

Ralph,” he continued, “I’ve not told you half o’ the abominations I

have seen durin’ my life in these seas. If we pull long together,

lad, I’ll tell you more; and if times have not changed very much

since I was here last, it’s like that you’ll have a chance o’

seeing a little for yourself before long.”

CHAPTER XXV.

The Sandal-wood party - Native children’s games, somewhat

surprising - Desperate amusements suddenly and fatally brought to a

close - An old friend recognised - News - Romata’s mad conduct

NEXT day the wood-cutting party went ashore again, and I

accompanied them as before. During the dinner hour I wandered into

the woods alone, being disinclined for food that day. I had not

rambled far when I found myself unexpectedly on the sea-shore,

having crossed a narrow neck of land which separated the native

village from a large bay. Here I found a party of the islanders

busy with one of their war-canoes, which was almost ready for

launching. I stood for a long time watching this party with great

interest, and observed that they fastened the timbers and planks to

each other very much in the same way in which I had seen Jack

fasten those of our little boat. But what surprised me most was

its immense length, which I measured very carefully, and found to

be a hundred feet long; and it was so capacious that it could have

held three hundred men. It had the unwieldy out-rigger and

enormously high stern-posts which I had remarked on the canoe that

came to us while I was on the Coral Island. Observing some boys

playing at games a short way along the beach, I resolved to go and

watch them; but as I turned from the natives who were engaged so

busily and cheerfully at their work, I little thought of the

terrible event that hung on the completion of that war-canoe.

Advancing towards the children, who were so numerous that I began

to think this must be the general play-ground of the village, I sat

down on a grassy bank under the shade of a plantain-tree, to watch

them. And a happier or more noisy crew I have never seen. There

were at least two hundred of them, both boys and girls, all of whom

were clad in no other garments than their own glossy little black

skins, except the maro, or strip of cloth round the loins of the

boys, and a very short petticoat or kilt on the girls. They did

not all play at the same game, but amused themselves in different

groups.

One band was busily engaged in a game exactly similar to our blind-man’s-buff. Another set were walking on stilts, which raised the

children three feet from the ground. They were very expert at this

amusement and seldom tumbled. In another place I observed a group

of girls standing together, and apparently enjoying themselves very

much; so I went up to see what they were doing, and found that they

were opening their eye-lids with their fingers till their eyes

appeared of an enormous size, and then thrusting pieces of straw

between the upper and lower lids, across the eyeball, to keep them

in that position! This seemed to me, I must confess, a very

foolish as well as dangerous amusement. Nevertheless the children

seemed to be greatly delighted with the hideous faces they made. I

pondered this subject a good deal, and thought that if little

children knew how silly they seem to grown-up people when they make

faces, they would not be so fond of doing it. In another place

were a number of boys engaged in flying kites, and I could not help

wondering that some of the games of those little savages should be

so like to our own, although they had never seen us at play. But

the kites were different from ours in many respects, being of every

variety of shape. They were made of very thin cloth, and the boys

raised them to a wonderful height in the air by means of twine made

from the cocoa-nut husk. Other games there were, some of which

showed the natural depravity of the hearts of these poor savages,

and made me wish fervently that missionaries might be sent out to

them. But the amusement which the greatest number of the children

of both sexes seemed to take chief delight in, was swimming and

diving in the sea; and the expertness which they exhibited was

truly amazing. They seemed to have two principal games in the

water, one of which was to dive off a sort of stage which had been

erected near a deep part of the sea, and chase each other in the

water. Some of them went down to an extraordinary depth; others

skimmed along the surface, or rolled over and over like porpoises,

or diving under each other, came up unexpectedly and pulled each

other down by a leg or an arm. They never seemed to tire of this

sport, and, from the great heat of the water in the South Seas,

they could remain in it nearly all day without feeling chilled.

Many of these children were almost infants, scarce able to walk;

yet they staggered down the beach, flung their round fat little

black bodies fearlessly into deep water, and struck out to sea with

as much confidence as ducklings.

The other game to which I have referred was swimming in the surf.

But as this is an amusement in which all engage, from children of

ten to gray-headed men of sixty, and as I had an opportunity of

witnessing it in perfection the day following, I shall describe it

more minutely.

I suppose it was in honour of their guest that this grand swimming-match was got up, for Romata came and told the captain that they

were going to engage in it, and begged him to “come and see.”

“What sort of amusement is this surf swimming?” I inquired of Bill,

as we walked together to a part of the shore on which several

thousands of the natives were assembled.

“It’s a very favourite lark with these ‘xtr’or’nary critters,”

replied Bill, giving a turn to the quid of tobacco that invariably

bulged out his left cheek. “Ye see, Ralph, them fellows take to

the water as soon a’most as they can walk, an’ long before they can

do that anything respectably, so that they are as much at home in

the sea as on the land. Well, ye see, I ‘spose they found swimmin’

for miles out to sea, and divin’ fathoms deep, wasn’t exciting

enough, so they invented this game o’ the surf. Each man and boy,

as you see, has got a short board or plank, with which he swims out

for a mile or more to sea, and then, gettin’ on the top o’ yon

thundering breaker, they come to shore on the top of it, yellin’

and screechin’ like fiends. It’s a marvel to me that they’re not

dashed to shivers on the coral reef, for sure an’ sartin am I that

if any o’ us tried it, we wouldn’t be worth the fluke of a broken

anchor after the wave fell. But there they go!”

As he spoke, several hundreds of the natives, amongst whom we were

now standing, uttered a loud yell, rushed down the beach, plunged

into the surf, and were carried off by the seething foam of the

retreating wave.

At the point where we stood, the encircling coral reef joined the

shore, so that the magnificent breakers, which a recent stiff

breeze had rendered larger than usual, fell in thunder at the feet

of the multitudes who lined the beach. For some time the swimmers

continued to strike out to sea, breasting over the swell like

hundreds of black seals. Then they all turned, and, watching an

approaching billow, mounted its white crest, and, each laying his

breast on the short flat board, came rolling towards the shore,

careering on the summit of the mighty wave, while they and the

onlookers shouted and yelled with excitement. Just as the monster

wave curled in solemn majesty to fling its bulky length upon the

beach, most of the swimmers slid back into the trough behind;

others, slipping off their boards, seized them in their hands, and,

plunging through the watery waste, swam out to repeat the

amusement; but a few, who seemed to me the most reckless, continued

their career until they were launched upon the beach, and enveloped

in the churning foam and spray. One of these last came in on the

crest of the wave most manfully, and landed with a violent bound

almost on the spot where Bill and I stood. I saw by his peculiar

head-dress that he was the chief whom the tribe entertained as

their guest. The sea-water had removed nearly all the paint with

which his face had been covered; and, as he rose panting to his

feet, I recognised, to my surprise, the features of Tararo, my old

friend of the Coral Island!

Tararo at the same moment recognised me, and, advancing quickly,

took me round the neck and rubbed noses; which had the effect of

transferring a good deal of the moist paint from his nose to mine.

Then, recollecting that this was not the white man’s mode of

salutation, he grasped me by the hand and shook it violently.

“Hallo, Ralph!” cried Bill, in surprise, “that chap seems to have

taken a sudden fancy to you, or he must be an old acquaintance.”

“Right, Bill,” I replied, “he is indeed an old acquaintance;” and I

explained in a few words that he was the chief whose party Jack and

Peterkin and I had helped to save.

Tararo having thrown away his surf-board, entered into an animated

conversation with Bill, pointing frequently during the course of it

to me; whereby I concluded he must be telling him about the

memorable battle, and the part we had taken in it. When he paused,

I begged of Bill to ask him about the woman Avatea, for I had some

hope that she might have come with Tararo on this visit. “And ask

him,” said I, “who she is, for I am persuaded she is of a different

race from the Feejeeans.” On the mention of her name the chief

frowned darkly, and seemed to speak with much anger.

“You’re right, Ralph,” said Bill, when the chief had ceased to

talk; “she’s not a Feejee girl, but a Samoan. How she ever came to

this place the chief does not very clearly explain, but he says she

was taken in war, and that he got her three years ago, an’ kept her

as his daughter ever since. Lucky for her, poor girl, else she’d

have been roasted and eaten like the rest.”

“But why does Tararo frown and look so angry?” said I.

“Because the girl’s somewhat obstinate, like most o’ the sex, an’

won’t marry the man he wants her to. It seems that a chief of some

other island came on a visit to Tararo and took a fancy to her, but

she wouldn’t have him on no account, bein’ already in love, and

engaged to a young chief whom Tararo hates, and she kicked up a

desperate shindy; so, as he was going on a war expedition in his

canoe, he left her to think about it, sayin’ he’d be back in six

months or so, when he hoped she wouldn’t be so obstropolous. This

happened just a week ago; an’ Tararo says that if she’s not ready

to go, when the chief returns, as his bride, she’ll be sent to him

as a LONG PIG.”

“As a long pig!” I exclaimed in surprise; “why what does he mean by

that?”

“He means somethin’ very unpleasant,” answered Bill with a frown.

“You see these blackguards eat men an’ women just as readily as

they eat pigs; and, as baked pigs and baked men are very like each

other in appearance, they call men LONG pigs. If Avatea goes to

this fellow as a long pig, it’s all up with her, poor thing.”

“Is she on the island now?” I asked eagerly.

“No, she’s at Tararo’s island.”

“And where does it lie?”

“About fifty or sixty miles to the south’ard o’ this,” returned

Bill; ” but I - “

At this moment we were startled by the cry of “Mao! mao! - a shark!

a shark!” which was immediately followed by a shriek that rang

clear and fearfully loud above the tumult of cries that arose from

the savages in the water and on the land. We turned hastily

towards the direction whence the cry came, and had just time to

observe the glaring eyeballs of one of the swimmers as he tossed

his arms in the air. Next instant he was pulled under the waves.

A canoe was instantly launched, and the hand of the drowning man

was caught, but only half of his body was dragged from the maw of

the monster, which followed the canoe until the water became so

shallow that it could scarcely swim. The crest of the next billow

was tinged with red as it rolled towards the shore.

In most countries of the world this would have made a deep

impression on the spectators, but the only effect it had upon these

islanders was to make them hurry with all speed out of the sea,

lest a similar fate should befall some of the others; but, so

utterly reckless were they of human life, that it did not for a

moment suspend the progress of their amusements. It is true the

surf-swimming ended for that time somewhat abruptly, but they

immediately proceeded with other games. Bill told me that sharks

do not often attack the surf-swimmers, being frightened away by the

immense numbers of men and boys in the water, and by the shouting

and splashing that they make. “But,” said he, “such a thing as you

have seen just now don’t frighten them much. They’ll be at it

again to-morrow or next day, just as if there wasn’t a single shark

between Feejee and Nova Zembla.”

After this the natives had a series of wrestling and boxing

matches; and being men of immense size and muscle, they did a good

deal of injury to each other, especially in boxing, in which not

only the lower orders, but several of the chiefs and priests

engaged. Each bout was very quickly terminated, for they did not

pretend to a scientific knowledge of the art, and wasted no time in

sparring, but hit straight out at each other’s heads, and their

blows were delivered with great force. Frequently one of the

combatants was knocked down with a single blow; and one gigantic

fellow hit his adversary so severely that he drove the skin

entirely off his forehead. This feat was hailed with immense

applause by the spectators.

During these exhibitions, which were very painful to me, though I

confess I could not refrain from beholding them, I was struck with

the beauty of many of the figures and designs that were tattooed on

the persons of the chiefs and principal men. One figure, that

seemed to me very elegant, was that of a palm-tree tattooed on the

back of a man’s leg, the roots rising, as it were, from under his

heel, the stem ascending the tendon of the ankle, and the graceful

head branching out upon the calf. I afterwards learned that this

process of tattooing is very painful, and takes long to do,

commencing at the age of ten, and being continued at intervals up

to the age of thirty. It is done by means of an instrument made of

bone, with a number of sharp teeth with which the skin is

punctured. Into these punctures a preparation made from the kernel

of the candle-nut, mixed with cocoa-nut oil, is rubbed, and the

mark thus made is indelible. The operation is performed by a class

of men whose profession it is, and they tattoo as much at a time,

as the person on whom they are operating can bear; which is not

much, the pain and inflammation caused by tattooing being very

great, sometimes causing death. Some of the chiefs were tattooed

with an ornamental stripe down the legs, which gave them the

appearance of being clad in tights. Others had marks round the

ankles and insteps, which looked like tight-fitting and elegant

boots. Their faces were also tattooed, and their breasts were very

profusely marked with every imaginable species of device, -

muskets, dogs, birds, pigs, clubs, and canoes, intermingled with

lozenges, squares, circles, and other arbitrary figures.

The women were not tattooed so much as the men, having only a few

marks on their feet and arms. But I must say, however

objectionable this strange practice may be, it nevertheless had

this good effect, that it took away very much from their appearance

of nakedness.

Next day, while we were returning from the woods to our schooner,

we observed Romata rushing about in the neighbourhood of his house,

apparently mad with passion.

“Ah!” said Bill to me, “there he’s at his old tricks again. That’s

his way when he gets drink. The natives make a sort of drink o’

their own, and it makes him bad enough; but when he gets brandy

he’s like a wild tiger. The captain, I suppose, has given him a

bottle, as usual, to keep him in good humour. After drinkin’ he

usually goes to sleep, and the people know it well and keep out of

his way, for fear they should waken him. Even the babies are taken

out of ear-shot; for, when he’s waked up, he rushes out just as you

see him now, and spears or clubs the first person he meets.”

It seemed at the present time, however, that no deadly weapon had

been in his way, for the infuriated chief was raging about without

one. Suddenly he caught sight of an unfortunate man who was trying

to conceal himself behind a tree. Rushing towards him, Romata

struck him a terrible blow on the head, which knocked out the poor

man’s eye and also dislocated the chief’s finger. The wretched

creature offered no resistance; he did not even attempt to parry

the blow. Indeed, from what Bill said, I found that he might

consider himself lucky in having escaped with his life, which would

certainly have been forfeited had the chief been possessed of a

club at the time.

“Have these wretched creatures no law among themselves,” said I,

“which can restrain such wickedness?”

“None,” replied Bill. “The chief’s word is law. He might kill and

eat a dozen of his own subjects any day for nothing more than his

own pleasure, and nobody would take the least notice of it.”

This ferocious deed took place within sight of our party as we

wended our way to the beach, but I could not observe any other

expression on the faces of the men than that of total indifference

or contempt. It seemed to me a very awful thing that it should be

possible for men to come to such hardness of heart and callousness

to the sight of bloodshed and violence; but, indeed, I began to

find that such constant exposure to scenes of blood was having a

slight effect upon myself, and I shuddered when I came to think

that I, too, was becoming callous.

I thought upon this subject much that night while I walked up and

down the deck during my hours of watch; and I came to the

conclusion that if I, who hated, abhorred, and detested such bloody

deeds as I had witnessed within the last few weeks, could so soon

come to be less sensitive about them, how little wonder that these

poor ignorant savages, who were born and bred in familiarity

therewith, should think nothing of them at all, and should hold

human life in so very slight esteem.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Mischief brewing - My blood is made to run cold - Evil

consultations and wicked resolves - Bloody Bill attempts to do good

and fails - The attack - Wholesale murder - The flight - The

escape.

NEXT morning I awoke with a feverish brow and a feeling of deep

depression at my heart; and the more I thought on my unhappy fate,

the more wretched and miserable did I feel.

I was surrounded on all sides by human beings of the most dreadful

character, to whom the shedding of blood was mere pastime. On

shore were the natives, whose practices were so horrible that I

could not think of them without shuddering. On board were none but

pirates of the blackest dye, who, although not cannibals, were foul

murderers, and more blameworthy even than the savages, inasmuch as

they knew better. Even Bill, with whom I had, under the strange

circumstances of my lot, formed a kind of intimacy, was so fierce

in his nature as to have acquired the title of “Bloody” from his

vile companions. I felt very much cast down the more I considered

the subject and the impossibility of delivery, as it seemed to me,

at least for a long time to come. At last, in my feeling of utter

helplessness, I prayed fervently to the Almighty that he would

deliver me out of my miserable condition; and when I had done so I

felt some degree of comfort.

When the captain came on deck, before the hour at which the men

usually started for the woods, I begged of him to permit me to

remain aboard that day, as I did not feel well; but he looked at me

angrily, and ordered me, in a surly tone, to get ready to go on

shore as usual. The fact was that the captain had been out of

humour for some time past. Romata and he had had some differences,

and high words had passed between them, during which the chief had

threatened to send a fleet of his war-canoes, with a thousand men,

to break up and burn the schooner; whereupon the captain smiled

sarcastically, and going up to the chief gazed sternly in his face,

while he said, “I have only to raise my little finger just now, and

my big gun will blow your whole village to atoms in five minutes!”

Although the chief was a bold man, he quailed before the pirate’s

glance and threat, and made no reply; but a bad feeling had been

raised and old sores had been opened.

I had, therefore, to go with the wood-cutters that day. Before

starting, however, the captain called me into the cabin, and said,

-

“Here, Ralph, I’ve got a mission for you, lad. That blackguard

Romata is in the dumps, and nothing will mollify him but a gift; so

do you go up to his house and give him these whales’ teeth, with my

compliments. Take with you one of the men who can speak the

language.”

I looked at the gift in some surprise, for it consisted of six

white whales’ teeth, and two of the same dyed bright red, which

seemed to me very paltry things. However, I did not dare to

hesitate or ask any questions; so, gathering them up, I left the

cabin and was soon on my way to the chief’s house, accompanied by

Bill. On expressing my surprise at the gift, he said, -

“They’re paltry enough to you or me, Ralph, but they’re considered

of great value by them chaps. They’re a sort o’ cash among them.

The red ones are the most prized, one of them bein’ equal to twenty

o’ the white ones. I suppose the only reason for their bein’

valuable is that there ain’t many of them, and they’re hard to be

got.”

On arriving at the house we found Romata sitting on a mat, in the

midst of a number of large bales of native cloth and other

articles, which had been brought to him as presents from time to

time by inferior chiefs. He received us rather haughtily, but on

Bill explaining the nature of our errand he became very

condescending, and his eyes glistened with satisfaction when he

received the whales’ teeth, although he laid them aside with an

assumption of kingly indifference.

“Go,” said he, with a wave of the hand, - “go, tell your captain

that he may cut wood to-day, but not to-morrow. He must come

ashore, - I want to have a palaver with him.”

As we left the house to return to the woods, Bill shook his head:

“There’s mischief brewin’ in that black rascal’s head. I know him

of old. But what comes here?”

As he spoke, we heard the sound of laughter and shouting in the

wood, and presently there issued from it a band of savages, in the

midst of whom were a number of men bearing burdens on their

shoulders. At first I thought that these burdens were poles with

something rolled round them, the end of each pole resting on a

man’s shoulder. But on a nearer approach I saw that they were

human beings, tied hand and foot, and so lashed to the poles that

they could not move. I counted twenty of them as they passed.

“More murder!” said Bill, in a voice that sounded between a hoarse

laugh and a groan.

“Surely they are not going to murder them?” said I, looking

anxiously into Bill’s face.

“I don’t know, Ralph,” replied Bill, “what they’re goin’ to do with

them; but I fear they mean no good when they tie fellows up in that

way.”

As we continued our way towards the wood-cutters, I observed that

Bill looked anxiously over his shoulder, in the direction where the

procession had disappeared. At last he stopped, and turning

abruptly on his heel, said, -

“I tell ye what it is, Ralph, I must be at the bottom o’ that

affair. Let us follow these black scoundrels and see what they’re

goin’ to do.”

I must say I had no wish to pry further into their bloody

practices; but Bill seemed bent on it, so I turned and went. We

passed rapidly through the bush, being guided in the right

direction by the shouts of the savages. Suddenly there was a dead

silence, which continued for some time, while Bill and I

involuntarily quickened our pace until we were running at the top

of our speed across the narrow neck of land previously mentioned.

As we reached the verge of the wood, we discovered the savages

surrounding the large war-canoe, which they were apparently on the

point of launching. Suddenly the multitude put their united

strength to the canoe; but scarcely had the huge machine begun to

move, when a yell, the most appalling that ever fell upon my ear,

rose high above the shouting of the savages. It had not died away

when another and another smote upon my throbbing ear; and then I

saw that these inhuman monsters were actually launching their canoe

over the living bodies of their victims. But there was no pity in

the breasts of these men. Forward they went in ruthless

indifference, shouting as they went, while high above their voices

rang the dying shrieks of those wretched creatures, as, one after

another, the ponderous canoe passed over them, burst the eyeballs

from their sockets, and sent the life’s blood gushing from their

mouths. Oh, reader, this is no fiction. I would not, for the sake

of thrilling you with horror, invent so terrible a scene. It was

witnessed. It is true; true as that accursed sin which has

rendered the human heart capable of such diabolical enormities!

When it was over I turned round and fell upon the grass with a deep

groan; but Bill seized me by the arm, and lifting me up as if I had

been a child, cried, -

“Come along, lad; let’s away!” - and so, staggering and stumbling

over the tangled underwood, we fled from the fatal spot.

During the remainder of that day I felt as if I were in a horrible

dream. I scarce knew what was said to me, and was more than once

blamed by the men for idling my time. At last the hour to return

aboard came. We marched down to the beach, and I felt relief for

the first time when my feet rested on the schooner’s deck.

In the course of the evening I overheard part of a conversation

between the captain and the first mate, which startled me not a

little. They were down in the cabin, and conversed in an under-tone, but the sky-light being off, I overheard every word that was

said.

“I don’t half like it,” said the mate. “It seems to me that we’ll

only have hard fightin’ and no pay.”

“No pay!” repeated the captain, in a voice of suppressed anger.

“Do you call a good cargo all for nothing no pay?”

“Very true,” returned the mate; “but we’ve got the cargo aboard.

Why not cut your cable and take French leave o’ them? What’s the

use o’ tryin’ to lick the blackguards when it’ll do us no manner o’

good?”

“Mate,” said the captain, in a low voice, “you talk like a fresh-water sailor. I can only attribute this shyness to some strange

delusion; for surely” (his voice assumed a slightly sneering tone

as he said this) “surely I am not to suppose that YOU have become

soft-hearted! Besides, you are wrong in regard to the cargo being

aboard; there’s a good quarter of it lying in the woods, and that

blackguard chief knows it and won’t let me take it off. He defied

us to do our worst, yesterday.”

“Defied us! did he?’ cried the mate, with a bitter laugh. “Poor

contemptible thing!”

“And yet he seems not so contemptible but that you are afraid to

attack him.”

“Who said I was afraid?” growled the mate, sulkily. “I’m as ready

as any man in the ship. But, captain, what is it that you intend

to do?”

“I intend to muffle the sweeps and row the schooner up to the head

of the creek there, from which point we can command the pile of

sandal-wood with our gun. Then I shall land with all the men

except two, who shall take care of the schooner and be ready with

the boat to take us off. We can creep through the woods to the

head of the village, where these cannibals are always dancing round

their suppers of human flesh, and if the carbines of the men are

loaded with a heavy charge of buck-shot, we can drop forty or fifty

at the first volley. After that the thing will be easy enough.

The savages will take to the mountains in a body, and we shall take

what we require, up anchor, and away.”

To this plan the mate at length agreed. As he left the cabin I

heard the captain say, -

“Give the men an extra glass of grog, and don’t forget the buck-shot.”

The reader may conceive the horror with which I heard this

murderous conversation. I immediately repeated it to Bill, who

seemed much perplexed about it. At length he said, -

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Ralph: I’ll swim ashore after dark

and fix a musket to a tree not far from the place where we’ll have

to land, and I’ll tie a long string to the trigger, so that when

our fellows cross it they’ll let it off, and so alarm the village

in time to prevent an attack, but not in time to prevent us gettin’

back to the boat; so, master captain,” added Bill with a smile that

for the first time seemed to me to be mingled with good-natured

cheerfulness, “you’ll be baulked at least for once in your life by

Bloody Bill.”

After it grew dark, Bill put this resolve in practice. He slipped

over the side with a musket in his left hand, while with his right

he swam ashore and entered the woods. He soon returned, having

accomplished his purpose, and got on board without being seen, - I

being the only one on deck.

When the hour of midnight approached the men were mustered on deck,

the cable was cut and the muffled sweeps got out. These sweeps

were immensely large oars, each requiring a couple of men to work

it. In a few minutes we entered the mouth of the creek, which was

indeed the mouth of a small river, and took about half an hour to

ascend it, although the spot where we intended to land was not more

than six hundred yards from the mouth, because there was a slight

current against us, and the mangroves which narrowed the creek,

impeded the rowers in some places. Having reached the spot, which

was so darkened by overhanging trees that we could see with

difficulty, a small kedge anchor attached to a thin line was let

softly down over the stern.

“Now, lads,” whispered the captain, as he walked along the line of

men, who were all armed to the teeth, “don’t be in a hurry, aim

low, and don’t waste your first shots.”

He then pointed to the boat, into which the men crowded in silence.

There was no room to row, but oars were not needed, as a slight

push against the side of the schooner sent the boat gliding to the

shore.

“There’s no need of leaving two in the boat,” whispered the mate,

as the men stepped out; “we shall want all our hands. Let Ralph

stay.”

The captain assented, and ordered me to stand in readiness with the

boat-hook, to shove ashore at a moment’s notice if they should

return, or to shove off if any of the savages should happen to

approach. He then threw his carbine into the hollow of his arm and

glided through the bushes followed by his men. With a throbbing

head I awaited the result of our plan. I knew the exact locality

where the musket was placed, for Bill had described it to me, and I

kept my straining eyes fixed upon the spot. But no sound came, and

I began to fear that either they had gone in another direction or

that Bill had not fixed the string properly. Suddenly I heard a

faint click, and observed one or two bright sparks among the

bushes. My heart immediately sank within me, for I knew at once

that the trigger had indeed been pulled but that the priming had

not caught. The plan, therefore, had utterly failed. A feeling of

dread now began to creep over me as I stood in the boat, in that

dark, silent spot, awaiting the issue of this murderous expedition.

I shuddered as I glanced at the water that glided past like a dark

reptile. I looked back at the schooner, but her hull was just

barely visible, while her tapering masts were lost among the trees

which overshadowed her. Her lower sails were set, but so thick was

the gloom that they were quite invisible.

Suddenly I heard a shot. In a moment a thousand voices raised a

yell in the village; again the cry rose on the night air, and was

followed by broken shouts as of scattered parties of men bounding

into the woods. Then I heard another shout loud and close at hand.

It was the voice of the captain cursing the man who had fired the

premature shot. Then came the order, “Forward,” followed by the

wild hurrah of our men, as they charged the savages. Shots now

rang in quick succession, and at last a loud volley startled the

echoes of the woods. It was followed by a multitude of wild

shrieks, which were immediately drowned in another “hurrah” from

the men; the distance of the sound proving that they were driving

their enemies before them towards the sea.

While I was listening intently to these sounds, which were now

mingled in confusion, I was startled by the rustling of the leaves

not far from me. At first I thought it was a party of savages who

had observed the schooner, but I was speedily undeceived by

observing a body of natives - apparently several hundreds, as far

as I could guess in the uncertain light - bounding through the

woods towards the scene of battle. I saw at once that this was a

party who had out-flanked our men, and would speedily attack them

in the rear. And so it turned out, for, in a short time, the

shouts increased tenfold, and among them I thought I heard a

death-cry uttered by voices familiar to my ear.

At length the tumult of battle ceased, and, from the cries of

exultation that now arose from the savages, I felt assured that our

men had been conquered. I was immediately thrown into dreadful

consternation. What was I now to do? To be taken by the savages

was too horrible to be thought of; to flee to the mountains was

hopeless, as I should soon be discovered; and to take the schooner

out of the creek without assistance was impossible. I resolved,

however, to make the attempt, as being my only hope, and was on the

point of pushing off when my hand was stayed and my blood chilled

by an appalling shriek in which I recognised the voice of one of

the crew. It was succeeded by a shout from the savages. Then came

another, and another shriek of agony, making my ears to tingle, as

I felt convinced they were murdering the pirate crew in cold blood.

With a bursting heart and my brain whirling as if on fire, I seized

the boat-hook to push from shore when a man sprang from the bushes.

“Stop! Ralph, stop! - there now, push off,” he cried, and bounded

into the boat so violently as nearly to upset her. It was Bill’s

voice! In another moment we were on board, - the boat made fast,

the line of the anchor cut, and the sweeps run out. At the first

stroke of Bill’s giant arm the schooner was nearly pulled ashore,

for in his haste he forgot that I could scarcely move the unwieldy

oar. Springing to the stern he lashed the rudder in such a

position as that, while it aided me, it acted against him, and so

rendered the force of our strokes nearly equal. The schooner now

began to glide quickly down the creek, but before we reached its

mouth, a yell from a thousand voices on the bank told that we were

discovered. Instantly a number of the savages plunged into the

water and swam towards us; but we were making so much way that they

could not overtake us. One, however, an immensely powerful man,

succeeded in laying hold of the cut rope that hung from the stern,

and clambered quickly upon deck. Bill caught sight of him the

instant his head appeared above the taffrail. But he did not cease

to row, and did not appear even to notice the savage until he was

within a yard of him; then, dropping the sweep, he struck him a

blow on the forehead with his clenched fist that felled him to the

deck. Lifting him up he hurled him overboard and resumed the oar.

But now a greater danger awaited us, for the savages had outrun us

on the bank and were about to plunge into the water ahead of the

schooner. If they succeeded in doing so our fate was sealed. For

one moment Bill stood irresolute. Then, drawing a pistol from his

belt, he sprang to the brass gun, held the pan of his pistol over

the touch-hole and fired. The shot was succeeded by the hiss of

the cannon’s priming, then the blaze and the crashing thunder of

the monstrous gun burst upon the savages with such deafening roar

that it seemed as if their very mountains had been rent asunder.

This was enough. The moment of surprise and hesitation caused by

the unwonted sound, gave us time to pass the point; a gentle

breeze, which the dense foliage had hitherto prevented us from

feeling, bulged out our sails; the schooner bent before it, and the

shouts of the disappointed savages grew fainter and fainter in the

distance as we were slowly wafted out to sea.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Reflections - The wounded man - The squall - True consolation -

Death.

THERE is a power of endurance in human beings, both in their bodies

and in their minds, which, I have often thought, seems to be

wonderfully adapted and exactly proportioned to the circumstances

in which individuals may happen to be placed, - a power which, in

most cases, is sufficient to carry a man through and over every

obstacle that may happen to be thrown in his path through life, no

matter how high or how steep the mountain may be, but which often

forsakes him the moment the summit is gained, the point of

difficulty passed; and leaves him prostrated, with energies gone,

nerves unstrung, and a feeling of incapacity pervading the entire

frame that renders the most trifling effort almost impossible.

During the greater part of that day I had been subjected to severe

mental and much physical excitement, which had almost crushed me

down by the time I was relieved from duty in the course of the

evening. But when the expedition, whose failure has just been

narrated, was planned, my anxieties and energies had been so

powerfully aroused that I went through the protracted scenes of

that terrible night without a feeling of the slightest fatigue. My

mind and body were alike active and full of energy. No sooner was

the last thrilling fear of danger past, however, than my faculties

were utterly relaxed; and, when I felt the cool breezes of the

Pacific playing around my fevered brow, and heard the free waves

rippling at the schooner’s prow, as we left the hated island behind

us, my senses forsook me and I fell in a swoon upon the deck.

From this state I was quickly aroused by Bill, who shook me by the

arm, saying, -

“Hallo! Ralph, boy, rouse up, lad, we’re safe now. Poor thing, I

believe he’s fainted.” And raising me in his arms he laid me on

the folds of the gaff-top-sail, which lay upon the deck near the

tiller. “Here, take a drop o’ this, it’ll do you good, my boy,” he

added, in a voice of tenderness which I had never heard him use

before, while he held a brandy-flask to my lips.

I raised my eyes gratefully, as I swallowed a mouthful; next moment

my head sank heavily upon my arm and I fell fast asleep. I slept

long, for when I awoke the sun was a good way above the horizon. I

did not move on first opening my eyes, as I felt a delightful

sensation of rest pervading me, and my eyes were riveted on and

charmed with the gorgeous splendour of the mighty ocean, that burst

upon my sight. It was a dead calm; the sea seemed a sheet of

undulating crystal, tipped and streaked with the saffron hues of

sunrise, which had not yet merged into the glowing heat of noon;

and there was a deep calm in the blue dome above, that was not

broken even by the usual flutter of the sea-fowl. How long I would

have lain in contemplation of this peaceful scene I know not, but

my mind was recalled suddenly and painfully to the past and the

present by the sight of Bill, who was seated on the deck at my feet

with his head reclining, as if in sleep, on his right arm, which

rested on the tiller. As he seemed to rest peacefully I did not

mean to disturb him, but the slight noise I made in raising myself

on my elbow caused him to start and look round.

“Well, Ralph, awake at last, my boy; you have slept long and

soundly,” he said, turning towards me.

On beholding his countenance I sprang up in anxiety. He was deadly

pale, and his hair, which hung in dishevelled locks over his face,

was clotted with blood. Blood also stained his hollow cheeks and

covered the front of his shirt, which, with the greater part of

dress, was torn and soiled with mud.

“Oh, Bill!” said I, with deep anxiety, “what is the matter with

you? You are ill. You must have been wounded.”

“Even so, lad,” said Bill in a deep soft voice, while he extended

his huge frame on the couch from which I had just risen. “I’ve got

an ugly wound, I fear, and I’ve been waiting for you to waken, to

ask you to get me a drop o’ brandy and a mouthful o’ bread from the

cabin lockers. You seemed to sleep so sweetly, Ralph, that I

didn’t like to disturb you. But I don’t feel up to much just now.”

I did not wait till he had done talking, but ran below immediately,

and returned in a few seconds with a bottle of brandy and some

broken biscuit. He seemed much refreshed after eating a few

morsels and drinking a long draught of water mingled with a little

of the spirits. Immediately afterwards he fell asleep, and I

watched him anxiously until he awoke, being desirous of knowing the

nature and extent of his wound.

“Ha!” he exclaimed, on awaking suddenly, after a slumber of an

hour, “I’m the better of that nap, Ralph; I feel twice the man I

was;” and he attempted to rise, but sank back again immediately

with a deep groan.

“Nay, Bill you must not move, but lie still while I look at your

wound. I’ll make a comfortable bed for you here on deck, and get

you some breakfast. After that you shall tell me how you got it.

Cheer up, Bill,” I added, seeing that he turned his head away;

“you’ll be all right in a little, and I’ll be a capital nurse to

you though I’m no doctor.”

I then left him, and lighted a fire in the caboose. While it was

kindling, I went to the steward’s pantry and procured the materials

for a good breakfast, with which, in little more than half an hour,

I returned to my companion. He seemed much better, and smiled

kindly on me as I set before him a cup of coffee and a tray with

several eggs and some bread on it.

“Now then, Bill,” said I, cheerfully, sitting down beside him on

the deck, “let’s fall to. I’m very hungry myself, I can tell you;

but - I forgot - your wound,” I added, rising; “let me look at it.”

I found that the wound was caused by a pistol shot in the chest.

It did not bleed much, and, as it was on the right side, I was in

hopes that it might not be very serious. But Bill shook his head.

“However,” said he, “sit down, Ralph, and I’ll tell you all about

it.”

“You see, after we left the boat an’ began to push through the

bushes, we went straight for the line of my musket, as I had

expected; but by some unlucky chance it didn’t explode, for I saw

the line torn away by the men’s legs, and heard the click o’ the

lock; so I fancy the priming had got damp and didn’t catch. I was

in a great quandary now what to do, for I couldn’t concoct in my

mind, in the hurry, any good reason for firin’ off my piece. But

they say necessity’s the mother of invention; so, just as I was

givin’ it up and clinchin’ my teeth to bide the worst o’t, and take

what should come, a sudden thought came into my head. I stepped

out before the rest, seemin’ to be awful anxious to be at the

savages, tripped my foot on a fallen tree, plunged head foremost

into a bush, an’, ov coorse, my carbine exploded! Then came such a

screechin’ from the camp as I never heard in all my life. I rose

at once, and was rushin’ on with the rest when the captain called a

halt.

“‘You did that a-purpose, you villain!’ he said, with a tremendous

oath, and, drawin’ a pistol from his belt, let fly right into my

breast. I fell at once, and remembered no more till I was startled

and brought round by the most awful yell I ever heard in my life,

except, maybe, the shrieks o’ them poor critters that were crushed

to death under yon big canoe. Jumpin’ up, I looked round, and,

through the trees, saw a fire gleamin’ not far off, the light o’

which showed me the captain and men tied hand and foot, each to a

post, and the savages dancin’ round them like demons. I had scarce

looked for a second, when I saw one o’ them go up to the captain

flourishing a knife, and, before I could wink, he plunged it into

his breast, while another yell, like the one that roused me, rang

upon my ear. I didn’t wait for more, but, bounding up, went

crashing through the bushes into the woods. The black fellows

caught sight of me, however, but not in time to prevent me jumpin’

into the boat, as you know.”

Bill seemed to be much exhausted after this recital, and shuddered

frequently during the narrative, so I refrained from continuing the

subject at that time, and endeavoured to draw his mind to other

things.

“But now, Bill,” said I, “it behoves us to think about the future,

and what course of action we shall pursue. Here we are, on the

wide Pacific, in a well-appointed schooner, which is our own, - at

least no one has a better claim to it than we have, - and the world

lies before us. Moreover, here comes a breeze, so we must make up

our minds which way to steer.”

“Ralph, boy,” said my companion, “it matters not to me which way we

go. I fear that my time is short now. Go where you will. I’m

content.”

“Well then, Bill, I think we had better steer to the Coral Island,

and see what has become of my dear old comrades, Jack and Peterkin.

I believe the island has no name, but the captain once pointed it

out to me on the chart, and I marked it afterwards; so, as we know

pretty well our position just now, I think I can steer to it.

Then, as to working the vessel, it is true I cannot hoist the sails

single-handed, but luckily we have enough of sail set already, and

if it should come on to blow a squall, I could at least drop the

peaks of the main and fore sails, and clew them up partially

without help, and throw her head close into the wind, so as to keep

her all shaking till the violence of the squall is past. And if we

have continued light breezes, I’ll rig up a complication of blocks

and fix them to the topsail halyards, so that I shall be able to

hoist the sails without help. ‘Tis true I’ll require half a day to

hoist them, but we don’t need to mind that. Then I’ll make a sort

of erection on deck to screen you from the sun, Bill; and if you

can only manage to sit beside the tiller and steer for two hours

every day, so as to let me get a nap, I’ll engage to let you off

duty all the rest of the twenty-four hours. And if you don’t feel

able for steering, I’ll lash the helm and heave to, while I get you

your breakfasts and dinners; and so we’ll manage famously, and soon

reach the Coral Island.”

Bill smiled faintly as I ran on in this strain.

“And what will you do,” said he, “if it comes on to blow a storm?”

This question silenced me, while I considered what I should do in

such a case. At length I laid my hand an his arm, and said, “Bill,

when a man has done all that he CAN do, he ought to leave the rest

to God.”

“Oh, Ralph,” said my companion, in a faint voice, looking anxiously

into my face, “I wish that I had the feelin’s about God that you

seem to have, at this hour. I’m dyin’, Ralph; yet I, who have

braved death a hundred times, am afraid to die. I’m afraid to

enter the next world. Something within tells me there will be a

reckoning when I go there. But it’s all over with me, Ralph. I

feel that there’s no chance o’ my bein’ saved.”

“Don’t say that, Bill,” said I, in deep compassion, “don’t say

that. I’m quite sure there’s hope even for you, but I can’t

remember the words of the Bible that make me think so. Is there

not a Bible on board, Bill?”

“No; the last that was in the ship belonged to a poor boy that was

taken aboard against his will. He died, poor lad, I think, through

ill treatment and fear. After he was gone the captain found his

Bible and flung it overboard.”

I now reflected, with great sadness and self-reproach, on the way

in which I had neglected my Bible; and it flashed across me that I

was actually in the sight of God a greater sinner than this blood-stained pirate; for, thought I, he tells me that he never read the

Bible, and was never brought up to care for it; whereas I was

carefully taught to read it by my own mother, and had read it daily

as long as I possessed one, yet to so little purpose that I could

not now call to mind a single text that would meet this poor man’s

case, and afford him the consolation he so much required. I was

much distressed, and taxed my memory for a long time. At last a

text did flash into my mind, and I wondered much that I had not

thought of it before.

“Bill,” said I, in a low voice, “‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ

and thou shalt be saved.’”

“Ay, Ralph, I’ve heard the missionaries say that before now, but

what good can it do me? It’s not for me that. It’s not for the

likes o’ me.”

I knew not now what to say, for, although I felt sure that that

word was for him as well as for me, I could not remember any other

word whereby I could prove it.

After a short pause, Bill raised his eyes to mine and said, “Ralph,

I’ve led a terrible life. I’ve been a sailor since I was a boy,

and I’ve gone from bad to worse ever since I left my father’s roof.

I’ve been a pirate three years now. It is true I did not choose

the trade, but I was inveigled aboard this schooner and kept here

by force till I became reckless and at last joined them. Since

that time my hand has been steeped in human blood again and again.

Your young heart would grow cold if I - ; but why should I go on?

‘Tis of no use, Ralph; my doom is fixed.”

“Bill,” said I, “‘Though your sins be red like crimson, they shall

be white as snow.’ ‘Only believe.’”

“Only believe!” cried Bill, starting up on his elbow; “I’ve heard

men talk o’ believing as if it was easy. Ha! ‘tis easy enough for

a man to point to a rope and say, ‘I believe that would bear my

weight;’ but ‘tis another thing for a man to catch hold o’ that

rope, and swing himself by it over the edge of a precipice!”

The energy with which he said this, and the action with which it

was accompanied, were too much for Bill. He sank back with a deep

groan. As if the very elements sympathized with this man’s

sufferings, a low moan came sweeping over the sea.

“Hist! Ralph,” said Bill, opening his eves; “there’s a squall

coming, lad. Look alive, boy. Clew up the fore-sail. Drop the

main-sail peak. Them squalls come quick sometimes.”

I had already started to my feet, and saw that a heavy squall was

indeed bearing down on us. It had hitherto escaped my notice,

owing to my being so much engrossed by our conversation. I

instantly did as Bill desired, for the schooner was still lying

motionless on the glassy sea. I observed with some satisfaction

that the squall was bearing down on the larboard bow, so that it

would strike the vessel in the position in which she would be best

able to stand the shock. Having done my best to shorten sail, I

returned aft, and took my stand at the helm.

“Now, boy,” said Bill, in a faint voice, “keep her close to the

wind.”

A few seconds afterwards he said, “Ralph, let me hear those two

texts again.”

I repeated them.

“Are ye sure, lad, ye saw them in the Bible?”

“Quite sure,” I replied.

Almost before the words had left my lips the wind burst upon us,

and the spray dashed over our decks. For a time the schooner stood

it bravely, and sprang forward against the rising sea like a war-horse. Meanwhile clouds darkened the sky, and the sea began to

rise in huge billows. There was still too much sail on the

schooner, and, as the gale increased, I feared that the masts would

be torn out of her or carried away, while the wind whistled and

shrieked through the strained rigging. Suddenly the wind shifted a

point, a heavy sea struck us on the bow, and the schooner was

almost laid on her beam-ends, so that I could scarcely keep my

legs. At the same moment Bill lost his hold of the belaying-pin

which had served to steady him, and he slid with stunning violence

against the sky-light. As he lay on the deck close beside me, I

could see that the shock had rendered him insensible, but I did not

dare to quit the tiller for an instant, as it required all my

faculties, bodily and mental, to manage the schooner. For an hour

the blast drove us along, while, owing to the sharpness of the

vessel’s bow and the press of canvass, she dashed through the waves

instead of breasting over them, thereby drenching the decks with

water fore and aft. At the end of that time the squall passed

away, and left us rocking on the bosom of the agitated sea.

My first care, the instant I could quit the helm, was to raise Bill

from the deck and place him on the couch. I then ran below for the

brandy bottle and rubbed his face and hands with it, and

endeavoured to pour a little down his throat. But my efforts,

although I continued them long and assiduously, were of no avail;

as I let go the hand which I had been chafing it fell heavily on

the deck. I laid my hand over his heart, and sat for some time

quite motionless, but there was no flutter there - the pirate was

dead!

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Alone on the deep - Necessity the mother of invention - A valuable

book discovered - Natural phenomenon - A bright day in my history.

IT was with feelings of awe, not unmingled with fear, that I now

seated myself on the cabin sky-light and gazed upon the rigid

features of my late comrade, while my mind wandered over his past

history and contemplated with anxiety my present position. Alone!

in the midst of the wide Pacific, having a most imperfect knowledge

of navigation, and in a schooner requiring at least eight men as

her proper crew. But I will not tax the reader’s patience with a

minute detail of my feelings and doings during the first few days

that followed the death of my companion. I will merely mention

that I tied a cannon ball to his feet and, with feelings of the

deepest sorrow, consigned him to the deep.

For fully a week after that a steady breeze blew from the east,

and, as my course lay west-and-by-north, I made rapid progress

towards my destination. I could not take an observation, which I

very much regretted, as the captain’s quadrant was in the cabin;

but, from the day of setting sail from the island of the savages, I

had kept a dead reckoning, and as I knew pretty well now how much

lee-way the schooner made, I hoped to hit the Coral Island without

much difficulty. In this I was the more confident that I knew its

position on the chart (which I understood was a very good one), and

so had its correct bearings by compass.

As the weather seemed now quite settled and fine, and as I had got

into the trade-winds, I set about preparations for hoisting the

topsails. This was a most arduous task, and my first attempts

were complete failures, owing, in a great degree, to my

reprehensible ignorance of mechanical forces. The first error I

made was in applying my apparatus of blocks and pulleys to a rope

which was too weak, so that the very first heave I made broke it in

two, and sent me staggering against the after-hatch, over which I

tripped, and, striking against the main-boom, tumbled down the

companion ladder into the cabin. I was much bruised and somewhat

stunned by this untoward accident. However, I considered it

fortunate that I was not killed. In my next attempt I made sure of

not coming by a similar accident, so I unreeved the tackling and

fitted up larger blocks and ropes. But although the principle on

which I acted was quite correct, the machinery was now so massive

and heavy that the mere friction and stiffness of the thick cordage

prevented me from moving it at all. Afterwards, however, I came to

proportion things more correctly; but I could not avoid reflecting

at the time how much better it would have been had I learned all

this from observation and study, instead of waiting till I was

forced to acquire it through the painful and tedious lessons of

experience.

After the tackling was prepared and in good working order, it took

me the greater part of a day to hoist the main-top sail. As I

could not steer and work at this at the same time, I lashed the

helm in such a position that, with a little watching now and then,

it kept the schooner in her proper course. By this means I was

enabled also to go about the deck and down below for things that I

wanted, as occasion required; also to cook and eat my victuals.

But I did not dare to trust to this plan during the three hours of

rest that I allowed myself at night, as the wind might have

shifted, in which case I should have been blown far out of my

course ere I awoke. I was, therefore, in the habit of heaving-to

during those three hours; that is, fixing the rudder and the sails

in such a position as that by acting against each other, they would

keep the ship stationary. After my night’s rest, therefore, I had

only to make allowance for the lee-way she had made, and so resume

my course.

Of course I was to some extent anxious lest another squall should

come, but I made the best provision I could in the circumstances,

and concluded that by letting go the weather-braces of the topsails and the topsail halyards at the same time, I should thereby

render these sails almost powerless. Besides this, I proposed to

myself to keep a sharp lookout on the barometer in the cabin, and

if I observed at any time a sudden fall in it, I resolved that I

would instantly set about my multiform appliances for reducing

sail, so as to avoid being taken at unawares. Thus I sailed

prosperously for two weeks, with a fair wind, so that I calculated

I must be drawing near to the Coral Island; at the thought of which

my heart bounded with joyful expectation.

The only book I found on board, after a careful search, was a

volume of Captain Cook’s voyages. This, I suppose, the pirate

captain had brought with him in order to guide him, and to furnish

him with information regarding the islands of these seas. I found

this a most delightful book indeed, and I not only obtained much

interesting knowledge about the sea in which I was sailing, but I

had many of my own opinions, derived from experience, corroborated;

and not a few of them corrected. Besides the reading of this

charming book, and the daily routine of occupations, nothing of

particular note happened to me during this voyage, except once,

when on rising one night, after my three hours’ nap, while it was

yet dark, I was amazed and a little alarmed to find myself floating

in what appeared to be a sea of blue fire! I had often noticed the

beautiful appearance of phosphorescent light, but this far exceeded

anything of the sort I ever saw before. The whole sea appeared

somewhat like milk and was remarkably luminous.

I rose in haste, and, letting down a bucket into the sea, brought

some of the water on board and took it down to the cabin to examine

it; but no sooner did I approach the light than the strange

appearance disappeared, and when I removed the cabin lamp the

luminous light appeared again. I was much puzzled with this, and

took up a little of the water in the hollow of my hand and then let

it run off, when I found that the luminous substance was left

behind on my palm. I ran with it to the lamp; but when I got there

it was gone. I found, however, that when I went into the dark my

hand shone again; so I took the large glass of the ship’s telescope

and examined my hand minutely, when I found that there were on it

one or two small patches of a clear, transparent substance like

jelly, which were so thin as to be almost invisible to the naked

eye. Thus I came to know that the beautiful phosphoric light,

which I had so often admired before, was caused by animals, for I

had no doubt that these were of the same kind as the medusae or

jelly-fish which are seen in all parts of the world.

On the evening of my fourteenth day, I was awakened out of a nap

into which I had fallen by a loud cry, and starting up, I gazed

around me. I was surprised and delighted to see a large albatross

soaring majestically over the ship. I immediately took it into my

head that this was the albatross I had seen at Penguin Island. I

had, of course, no good reason for supposing this, but the idea

occurred to me, I know not why, and I cherished it, and regarded

the bird with as much affection as if he had been an old friend.

He kept me company all that day and left me as night fell.

Next morning as I stood motionless and with heavy eyes at the helm,

for I had not slept well, I began to weary anxiously for daylight,

and peered towards the horizon, where I thought I observed

something like a black cloud against the dark sky. Being always on

the alert for squalls, I ran to the bow. There could be no doubt

it was a squall, and as I listened I thought I heard the murmur of

the coming gale. Instantly I began to work might and main at my

cumbrous tackle for shortening sail, and in the course of an hour

and a half had the most of it reduced, - the topsail yards down on

the caps, the topsails clewed up, the sheets hauled in, the main

and fore peaks lowered, and the flying-jib down. While thus

engaged the dawn advanced, and I cast an occasional furtive glance

ahead in the midst of my labour. But now that things were prepared

for the worst, I ran forward again and looked anxiously over the

bow. I now heard the roar of the waves distinctly, and as a single

ray of the rising sun gleamed over the ocean I saw - what! could it

be that I was dreaming? - that magnificent breaker with its

ceaseless roar! - that mountain top! - yes, once more I beheld the

Coral Island!

CHAPTER XXIX.

The effect of a cannon-shot - A happy reunion of a somewhat moist

nature - Retrospects and explanations - An awful dive - New plans -

The last of the Coral Island.

I ALMOST fell upon the deck with the tumult of mingled emotions

that filled my heart, as I gazed ardently towards my beautiful

island. It was still many miles away, but sufficiently near to

enable me to trace distinctly the well-remembered outlines of the

two mountains. My first impulse was to utter an exclamation of

gratitude for being carried to my former happy home in safety; my

second, to jump up, clap my hands, shout, and run up and down the

deck, with no other object in view than that of giving vent to my

excited feelings. Then I went below for the telescope, and spent

nearly ten minutes of the utmost impatience in vainly trying to get

a focus, and in rubbing the skin nearly off my eyes, before I

discovered that having taken off the large glass to examine the

phosphoric water with I had omitted to put it on again.

After that I looked up impatiently at the sails, which I now

regretted having lowered so hastily, and for a moment thought of

hoisting the main-top sail again; but recollecting that it would

take me full half a day to accomplish, and that, at the present

rate of sailing, two hours would bring me to the island, I

immediately dismissed the idea.

The remainder of the time I spent in making feverish preparations

for arriving and seeing my dear comrades. I remembered that they

were not in the habit of rising before six, and, as it was now only

three, I hoped to arrive before they were awake. Moreover, I set

about making ready to let go the anchor, resolving in my own mind

that, as I knew the depth of water in the passage of the reef and

within the lagoon, I would run the schooner in and bring up

opposite the bower. Fortunately the anchor was hanging at the cat-head, otherwise I should never have been able to use it. Now, I

had only to cut the tackling, and it would drop of its own weight.

After searching among the flags, I found the terrible black one,

which I ran up to the peak. While I was doing this, a thought

struck me. I went to the powder magazine, brought up a blank

cartridge and loaded the big brass gun, which, it will be

remembered, was unhoused when we set sail, and, as I had no means

of housing it, there it had stood, bristling alike at fair weather

and foul all the voyage. I took care to grease its mouth well,

and, before leaving the fore part of the ship, thrust the poker

into the fire.

All was now ready. A steady five-knot breeze was blowing, so that

I was now not more than quarter of a mile from the reef. I was

soon at the entrance, and, as the schooner glided quietly through,

I glanced affectionately at the huge breaker, as if it had been the

same one I had seen there when I bade adieu, as I feared for ever,

to the island. On coming opposite the Water Garden, I put the helm

hard down. The schooner came round with a rapid, graceful bend,

and lost way just opposite the bower. Running forward, I let go

the anchor, caught up the red-hot poker, applied it to the brass

gun, and the mountains with a BANG, such as had only once before

broke their slumbering echoes!

Effective although it was, however, it was scarcely equal to the

bang with which, instantly after, Peterkin bounded from the bower,

in scanty costume, his eyeballs starting from his head with

surprise and terror. One gaze he gave, one yell, and then fled

into the bushes like a wild cat. The next moment Jack went through

exactly the same performance, the only difference being, that his

movements were less like those of Jack-in-the-box, though not less

vigorous and rapid than those of Peterkin.

“Hallo!” I shouted, almost mad with joy, “what, ho! Peterkin!

Jack! hallo! it’s me!”

My shout was just in time to arrest them. They halted and turned

round, and, the instant I repeated the cry, I saw that they

recognised my voice, by both of them running at full speed towards

the beach. I could no longer contain myself. Throwing off my

jacket, I jumped overboard at the same moment that Jack bounded

into the sea. In another moment we met in deep water, clasped each

other round the neck, and sank, as a matter of course, to the

bottom! We were well-nigh choked, and instantly struggled to the

surface, where Peterkin was spluttering about like a wounded duck,

laughing and crying by turns, and choking himself with salt water!

It would be impossible to convey to my reader, by description, an

adequate conception of the scene that followed my landing on the

beach, as we stood embracing each other indiscriminately in our

dripping garments, and giving utterance to incoherent rhapsodies,

mingled with wild shouts. It can be more easily imagined than

described, so I will draw a curtain over this part of my history,

and carry the reader forward over an interval of three days.

During the greater part of that period Peterkin did nothing but

roast pigs, taro, and bread-fruit, and ply me with plantains,

plums, potatoes, and cocoa-nuts, while I related to him and Jack

the terrible and wonderful adventures I had gone through since we

last met. After I had finished the account, they made me go all

over it again; and, when I had concluded the second recital, I had

to go over it again, while they commented upon it piecemeal. They

were much affected by what I told them of the probable fate of

Avatea, and Peterkin could by no means brook the idea of the poor

girl being converted into a LONG PIG! As for Jack, he clenched his

teeth, and shook his fist towards the sea, saying at the same time,

that he was sorry he had not broken Tararo’s head, and he only

hoped that one day he should be able to plant his knuckles on the

bridge of that chief’s nose! After they had “pumped me dry,” as

Peterkin said, I begged to be informed of what had happened to them

during my long absence, and particularly as to how they got out of

the Diamond Cave.

“Well, you must know,” began Jack, “after you had dived out of the

cave, on the day you were taken away from us, we waited very

patiently for half an hour, not expecting you to return before the

end of that time. Then we began to upbraid you for staying so

long, when you knew we would be anxious; but when an hour passed,

we became alarmed, and I resolved at all hazards to dive out, and

see what had become of you, although I felt for poor Peterkin,

because, as he truly said, ‘If you never come back, I’m shut up

here for life.’ However, I promised not to run any risk, and he

let me go; which, to say truth, I thought very courageous of him!”

“I should just think it was!” interrupted Peterkin, looking at Jack

over the edge of a monstrous potato which he happened to be

devouring at the time.

“Well,” continued Jack, “you may guess my consternation when you

did not answer to my halloo. At first I imagined that the pirates

must have killed you, and left you in the bush, or thrown you into

the sea; then it occurred to me that this would have served no end

of theirs, so I came to the conclusion that they must have carried

you away with them. As this thought struck me, I observed the

pirate schooner standing away to the nor’ard, almost hull-down on

the horizon, and I sat down on the rocks to watch her as she slowly

sank from my sight. And I tell you, Ralph, my boy, that I shed

more tears that time, at losing you, than I have done, I verify

believe, all my life before - “

“Pardon me, Jack, for interrupting,” said Peterkin; “surely you

must be mistaken in that; you’ve often told me that, when you were

a baby, you used to howl and roar from morning to - “

“Hold your tongue, Peterkin,” cried Jack. “Well, after the

schooner had disappeared, I dived back into the cave, much to

Peterkin’s relief, and told him what I had seen. We sat down and

had a long talk over this matter, and then we agreed to make a

regular, systematic search through the woods, so as to make sure,

at least, that you had not been killed. But now we thought of the

difficulty of getting out of the cave without your help. Peterkin

became dreadfully nervous when he thought of this; and I must

confess that I felt some alarm, for, of course, I could not hope

alone to take him out so quickly as we two together had brought him

in; and he himself vowed that, if we had been a moment longer with

him that time, he would have had to take a breath of salt water.

However, there was no help for it, and I endeavoured to calm his

fears as well as I could: ‘for,’ said I, ‘you can’t live here,

Peterkin;’ to which he replied, ‘Of course not, Jack, I can only

die here, and, as that’s not at all desirable, you had better

propose something.’ So I suggested that he should take a good long

breath, and trust himself to me.

“‘Might we not make a large bag of cocoa-nut cloth, into which I

could shove my head, and tie it tight round my neck?’ he asked,

with a haggard smile. ‘It might let me get one breath under

water!’

“‘No use,’ said I; ‘it would fill in a moment and suffocate you. I

see nothing for it, Peterkin, if you really can’t keep your breath

so long, but to let me knock you down, and carry you out while in a

state of insensibility.’

“But Peterkin didn’t relish this idea. He seemed to fear that I

could not be able to measure the exact force of the blow, and

might, on the one hand, hit him so softly as to render a second or

third blow necessary, which would be very uncomfortable; or, on the

other hand, give him such a smash as would entirely spoil his

figurehead, or, mayhap, knock the life out of him altogether! At

last I got him persuaded to try to hold his breath, and commit

himself to me; so he agreed, and down we went. But I had not got

him half way through, when he began to struggle and kick like a

wild bull, burst from my grasp, and hit against the roof of the

tunnel. I was therefore, obliged to force him violently back into

the cave gain, where he rose panting to the surface. In short, he

had lost his presence of mind, and - “

“Nothing of the sort,” cried Peterkin, indignantly, “I had only

lost my wind; and if I had not had presence of mind enough to kick

as I did, I should have bu’st in your arms!”

“Well, well, so be it,” resumed Jack, with a smile, “but the upshot

of it was, that we had to hold another consultation on the point,

and I really believe that, had it not been for a happy thought of

mine, we should have been consulting there yet.”

“I wish we had,” again interrupted Peterkin with a sigh. “I’m

sure, Ralph, if I had thought that you were coming back again, I

would willingly have awaited your return for months, rather than

have endured the mental agony which I went through! But proceed.”

“The thought was this,” continued Jack, “that I should tie

Peterkin’s hands and feet with cords, and then lash him firmly to a

stout pole about five feet long, in order to render him quite

powerless, and keep him straight and stiff. You should have seen

his face of horror, Ralph, when I suggested this: but he came to

see that it was his only chance, and told me to set about it as

fast as I could; ‘for,’ said he, ‘this is no jokin’, Jack, I can

tell you, and the sooner it’s done the better.’ I soon procured

the cordage and a suitable pole, with which I returned to the cave,

and lashed him as stiff and straight as an Egyptian mummy; and, to

say truth, he was no bad representation of what an English mummy

would be, if there were such things, for he was as white as a dead

man.”

“‘Now,’ said Peterkin, in a tremulous voice, ‘swim with me as near

to the edge of the hole as you can before you dive, then let me

take a long breath, and, as I sha’nt be able to speak after I’ve

taken it, you’ll watch my face, and the moment you see me wink -

dive! And oh!’ he added, earnestly, ‘pray don’t be long!’

“I promised to pay the strictest attention to his wishes, and swam

with him to the outlet of the cave. Here I paused. ‘Now then,’

said I, ‘pull away at the wind, lad.’”

Peterkin drew in a breath so long that I could not help thinking of

the frog in the fable, that wanted to swell itself as big as the

ox. Then I looked into his face earnestly. Slap went the lid of

his right eye; down went my head, and up went my heels. We shot

through the passage like an arrow, and rose to the surface of the

open sea before you could count twenty!

“Peterkin had taken in such an awful load of wind that, on reaching

the free air, he let it out with a yell loud enough to have been

heard a mile off, and then, the change in his feelings was so

sudden and great, that he did not wait till we landed, but began,

tied up as he was, to shout and sing for joy as I supported him

with my left arm to the shore. However, in the middle of a laugh

that a hyaena might have envied, I let him accidentally slip, which

extinguished him in a moment.

“After this happy deliverance, we immediately began our search for

your dead body, Ralph, and you have no idea how low our hearts sank

as we set off, day after day, to examine the valleys and mountain

sides with the utmost care. In about three weeks we completed the

survey of the whole island, and had at least the satisfaction of

knowing that you had not been killed. But it occurred to us that

you might have been thrown into the sea, so we examined the sands

and the lagoon carefully, and afterwards went all round the outer

reef. One day, while we were upon the reef, Peterkin espied a

small dark object lying among the rocks, which seemed to be quite

different from the surrounding stones. We hastened towards the

spot, and found it to be a small keg. On knocking out the head we

discovered that it was gunpowder.”

“It was I who sent you that, Jack,” said I, with a smile.

“Fork out!” cried Peterkin, energetically, starting to his feet and

extending his open hand to Jack. “Down with the money, sir, else

I’ll have you shut up for life in a debtor’s prison the moment we

return to England!”

“I’ll give you an I.O.U. in the meantime,” returned Jack, laughing,

“so sit down and be quiet. The fact is, Ralph, when we discovered

this keg of powder, Peterkin immediately took me a bet of a

thousand pounds that you had something to do with it, and I took

him a bet of ten thousand that you had not.

“Peterkin was right then,” said I, explaining how the thing had

occurred.

“Well, we found it very useful,” continued Jack; “although some of

it had got a little damp; and we furbished up the old pistol, with

which Peterkin is a crack shot now. But, to continue. We did not

find any other vestige of you on the reef, and, finally, gave up

all hope of ever seeing you again. After this the island became a

dreary place to us, and we began to long for a ship to heave in

sight and take us off. But now that you’re back again, my dear

fellow, it looks as bright and cheerful as it used to do, and I

love it as much as ever.”

“And now,” continued Jack, “I have a great desire to visit some of

the other islands of the South Seas. Here we have a first-rate

schooner at our disposal, so I don’t see what should hinder us.”

“Just the very thing I was going to propose,” cried Peterkin; “I

vote for starting at once.”

“Well, then,” said Jack, “it seems to me that we could not do

better than shape our course for the island on which Avatea lives,

and endeavour to persuade Tararo to let her marry the black fellow

to whom she is engaged, instead of making a long pig of her. If he

has a spark of gratitude in him he’ll do it. Besides, having

become champions for this girl once before, it behoves us, as true

knights, not to rest until we set her free; at least, all the

heroes in all the story-books I have ever read would count it foul

disgrace to leave such a work unfinished.”

“I’m sure I don’t know, or care, what your knights in story-books

would do,” said Peterkin, “but I’m certain that it would be capital

fun, so I’m your man whenever you want me.”

This plan of Jack’s was quite in accordance with his romantic,

impulsive nature; and, having made up his mind to save this black

girl, he could not rest until the thing was commenced.

“But there may be great danger in this attempt,” he said, at the

end of a long consultation on the subject; “will you, lads, go with

me in spite of this?”

“Go with you?” we repeated in the same breath.

“Can you doubt it?” said I.

“For a moment,” added Peterkin.

I need scarcely say that, having made up our minds to go on this

enterprise, we lost no time in making preparations to quit the

island; and as the schooner was well laden with stores of every

kind for a long cruise, we had little to do except to add to our

abundant supply a quantity of cocoa-nuts, bread-fruit, taro, yams,

plums, and potatoes, chiefly with the view of carrying the

fragrance of our dear island along with us as long as we could.

When all was ready, we paid a farewell visit to the different

familiar spots where most of our time had been spent. We ascended

the mountain top, and gazed for the last time at the rich green

foliage in the valleys, the white sandy beach, the placid lagoon,

and the barrier coral-reef with its crested breakers. Then we

descended to Spouting Cliff, and looked down at the pale-green

monster which we had made such fruitless efforts to spear in days

gone by. From this we hurried to the Water Garden and took a last

dive into its clear waters, and a last gambol amongst its coral

groves. I hurried out before my companions, and dressed in haste,

in order to have a long examination of my tank, which Peterkin, in

the fulness of his heart, had tended with the utmost care, as being

a vivid remembrancer of me, rather than out of love for natural

history. It was in superb condition; - the water as clear and

pellucid as crystal; the red and green sea-weed of the most

brilliant hues; the red, purple, yellow, green, and striped

anemones fully expanded, and stretching out their arms as if to

welcome and embrace their former master; the starfish, zoophytes,

sea-pens, and other innumerable marine insects, looking fresh and

beautiful; and the crabs, as Peterkin said, looking as wide awake,

impertinent, rampant, and pugnacious as ever. It was indeed so

lovely and so interesting that I would scarcely allow myself to be

torn away from it.

Last of all, we returned to the bower and collected the few

articles we possessed, such as the axe, the pencil-case, the broken

telescope, the penknife, the hook made from the brass ring, and

the sail-needle, with which we had landed on the island; - also,

the long boots and the pistol, besides several curious articles of

costume which we had manufactured from time to time.

These we conveyed on board in our little boat, after having carved

our names on a chip of iron-wood, thus:-

JACK MARTIN,

RALPH ROVER,

PETERKIN GAY,

which we fixed up inside of the bower. The boat was then hoisted

on board and the anchor weighed; which latter operation cost us

great labour and much time, as the anchor was so heavy that we

could not move it without the aid of my complex machinery of blocks

and pulleys. A steady breeze was blowing off shore when we set

sail, at a little before sunset. It swept us quickly past the reef

and out to sea. The shore grew rapidly more indistinct as the

shades of evening fell, while our clipper bark bounded lightly over

the waves. Slowly the mountain top sank on the horizon, until it

became a mere speck. In another moment the sun and the Coral

Island sank together into the broad bosom of the Pacific.

CHAPTER XXX.

The voyage - The island, and a consultation in which danger is

scouted as a thing unworthy of consideration - Rats and cats - The

native teacher - Awful revelations - Wonderful effects of

Christianity.

OUR voyage during the next two weeks was most interesting and

prosperous. The breeze continued generally fair, and at all times

enabled us to lie our course; for being, as I have said before,

clipper-built, the pirate schooner could lie very close to the

wind, and made little lee-way. We had no difficulty now in

managing our sails, for Jack was heavy and powerful, while Peterkin

was active as a kitten. Still, however, we were a very

insufficient crew for such a vessel, and if any one had proposed to

us to make such a voyage in it before we had been forced to go

through so many hardships from necessity, we would have turned away

with pity from the individual making such proposal as from a

madman. I pondered this a good deal, and at last concluded that

men do not know how much they are capable of doing till they try,

and that we should never give way to despair in any undertaking,

however difficult it may seem:- always supposing, however, that our

cause is a good one, and that we can ask the divine blessing on it.

Although, therefore, we could now manage our sails easily, we

nevertheless found that my pulleys were of much service to us in

some things; though Jack did laugh heartily at the uncouth

arrangement of ropes and blocks, which had, to a sailor’s eye, a

very lumbering and clumsy appearance. But I will not drag my

reader through the details of this voyage. Suffice it to say,

that, after an agreeable sail of about three weeks, we arrived off

the island of Mango, which I recognised at once from the

description that the pirate, Bill, had given me of it during one of

our conversations.

As soon as we came within sight of it we hove the ship to, and held

a council of war.

“Now, boys,” said Jack, as we seated ourselves beside him on the

cabin sky-light, “before we go farther in this business, we must go

over the pros and cons of it; for, although you have so generously

consented to stick by me through thick and thin, it would be unfair

did I not see that you thoroughly understand the danger of what we

are about to attempt.”

“Oh! bother the danger,” cried Peterkin; “I wonder to hear YOU,

Jack, talk of danger. When a fellow begins to talk about it, he’ll

soon come to magnify it to such a degree that he’ll not be fit to

face it when it comes, no more than a suckin’ baby!”

“Nay, Peterkin,” replied Jack, gravely, “I won’t be jested out of

it. I grant you, that, when we’ve once resolved to act, and have

made up our minds what to do, we should think no more of danger.

But, before we have so resolved, it behoves us to look at it

straight in the face, and examine into it, and walk round it; for

if we flinch at a distant view, we’re sure to run away when the

danger is near. Now, I understand from you, Ralph, that the island

is inhabited by thorough-going, out-and-out cannibals, whose

principal law is - ‘Might is right, and the weakest goes to the

wall?’”

“Yes,” said I, “so Bill gave me to understand. He told me,

however, that, at the southern side of it, the missionaries had

obtained a footing amongst an insignificant tribe. A native

teacher had been sent there by the Wesleyans, who had succeeded in

persuading the chief at that part to embrace Christianity. But

instead of that being of any advantage to our enterprise, it seems

the very reverse; for the chief Tararo is a determined heathen, and

persecutes the Christians, - who are far too weak in numbers to

offer any resistance, - and looks with dislike upon all white men,

whom he regards as propagators of the new faith.”

“‘Tis a pity,” said Jack, “that the Christian tribe is so small,

for we shall scarcely be safe under their protection, I fear. If

Tararo takes it into his head to wish for our vessel, or to kill

ourselves, he could take us from them by force. You say that the

native missionary talks English?”

“So I believe.”

“Then, what I propose is this,” said Jack: “We will run round to

the south side of the island, and cut anchor off the Christian

village. We are too far away just now to have been descried by any

of the savages, so we shall get there unobserved, and have time to

arrange our plans before the heathen tribes know of our presence.

But, in doing this, we run the risk of being captured by the ill-disposed tribes, and being very ill used, if not - a - “

“Roasted alive and eaten,” cried Peterkin. “Come, out with it,

Jack; according to your own showing, it’s well to look the danger

straight in the face!”

“Well, that is the worst of it, certainly. Are you prepared, then,

to take your chance of that?”

“I’ve been prepared and had my mind made up long ago,” cried

Peterkin, swaggering about the deck with his hands thrust into his

breeches’ pockets. “The fact is, Jack, I don’t believe that Tararo

will be so ungrateful as to eat us; and I’m, quite sure that he’ll

be too happy to grant us whatever we ask: so the sooner we go in

and win the better.”

Peterkin was wrong, however, in his estimate of savage gratitude,

as the sequel will show.

The schooner was now put before the wind, and, after making a long

run to the south’ard, we put about and beat up for the south side

of Mango, where we arrived before sunset, and hove-to off the coral

reef. Here we awaited the arrival of a canoe, which immediately

put off on our rounding to. When it arrived, a mild-looking

native, of apparently forty years of age, came on board, and,

taking off his straw hat, made us a low bow. He was clad in a

respectable suit of European clothes; and the first words he

uttered, as he stepped up to Jack and shook hands with him, were, -

“Good day, gentlemen; we are happy to see you at Mango - you are

heartily welcome.”

After returning his salutation, Jack exclaimed, “You must be the

native missionary teacher of whom I have heard - are you not?”

“I am. I have the joy to be a servant of the Lord Jesus at this

station.”

“You’re the very man I want to see, then,” replied Jack; “that’s

lucky. Come down to the cabin, friend, and have a glass of wine.

I wish particularly to speak with you. My men there” (pointing to

Peterkin and me) “will look after your people.”

“Thank you,” said the teacher, as he followed Jack to the cabin, “I

do not drink wine or any strong drink.”

“Oh! then, there’s lots of water, and you can have biscuit.”

“Now, ‘pon my word, that’s cool!” said Peterkin; “his MEN,

forsooth! Well, since we are to be men, we may as well come it as

strong over these black chaps as we can. Hallo, there!” he cried

to the half dozen of natives who stood upon the deck, gazing in

wonder at all they saw, “here’s for you;” and he handed them a tray

of broken biscuit and a can of water. Then, thrusting his hands

into his pockets, he walked up and down the deck with an enormous

swagger, whistling vociferously.

In about half an hour Jack and the teacher came on deck, and the

latter, bidding us a cheerful good evening, entered his canoe and

paddled to the shore. When he was gone, Peterkin stepped up to

Jack, and, touching his cap, said, -

“Well, captain, have you any communications to make to your MEN?”

“Yes,” cried Jack; “ready about, mind the helm and clew up your

tongue, while I con the schooner through the passage in the reef.

The teacher, who seems a first-rate fellow, says it’s quite deep,

and good anchorage within the lagoon close to the shore.”

While the vessel was slowly advancing to her anchorage, under a

light breeze, Jack explained to us that Avatea was still on the

island, living amongst the heathens; that she had expressed a

strong desire to join the Christians, but Tararo would not let her,

and kept her constantly in close confinement.

“Moreover,” continued Jack, “I find that she belongs to one of the

Samoan Islands, where Christianity had been introduced long before

her capture by the heathens of a neighbouring island; and the very

day after she was taken, she was to have joined the church which

had been planted there by that excellent body, the London

Missionary Society. The teacher tells me, too, that the poor girl

has fallen in love with a Christian chief, who lives on an island

some fifty miles or so to the south of this one, and that she is

meditating a desperate attempt at escape. So, you see, we have

come in the nick of time. I fancy that this chief is the fellow

whom you heard of, Ralph, at the Island of Emo. Besides all this,

the heathen savages are at war among themselves, and there’s to be

a battle fought the day after to-morrow, in which the principal

leader is Tararo; so that we’ll not be able to commence our

negotiations with the rascally chief till the day after.”

The village off which we anchored was beautifully situated at the

head of a small bay, from the margin of which trees of every

description peculiar to the tropics rose in the richest luxuriance

to the summit of a hilly ridge, which was the line of demarcation

between the possessions of the Christians and those of the

neighbouring heathen chief.

The site of the settlement was an extensive plot of flat land,

stretching in a gentle slope from the sea to the mountain. The

cottages stood several hundred yards from the beach, and were

protected from the glare of the sea by the rich foliage of rows of

large Barringtonia and other trees, which girt the shore. The

village was about a mile in length, and perfectly straight, with a

wide road down the middle, on either side of which were rows of the

tufted-topped ti tree, whose delicate and beautiful blossoms,

hanging beneath their plume-crested tops, added richness to the

scene. The cottages of the natives were built beneath these trees,

and were kept in the most excellent order, each having a little

garden in front, tastefully laid out and planted, while the walks

were covered with black and white pebbles.

Every house had doors and Venetian windows, painted partly with

lamp black made from the candle-nut, and partly with red ochre,

which contrasted powerfully with the dazzling coral lime that

covered the walls. On a prominent position stood a handsome

church, which was quite a curiosity in its way. It was a hundred

feet long by fifty broad, and was seated throughout to accommodate

upwards of two thousand persons. It had six large folding doors

and twelve windows with Venetian blinds; and, although a large and

substantial edifice, it had been built, we were told by the

teacher, in the space of two months! There was not a single iron

nail in the fabric, and the natives had constructed it chiefly with

their stone and bone axes and other tools, having only one or two

axes or tools of European manufacture. Everything around this

beautiful spot wore an aspect of peace and plenty, and, as we

dropped our anchor within a stone’s cast of the substantial coral

wharf, I could not avoid contrasting it with the wretched village

of Emo, where I had witnessed so many frightful scenes. When the

teacher afterwards told me that the people of this tribe had become

converts only a year previous to our arrival, and that they had

been living before that in the practice of the most bloody system

of idolatry, I could not refrain from exclaiming, “What a

convincing proof that Christianity is of God!”

On landing from our little boat, we were received with a warm

welcome by the teacher and his wife; the latter being also a

native, clothed in a simple European gown and straw bonnet. The

shore was lined with hundreds of natives, whose persons were all

more or less clothed with native cloth. Some of the men had on a

kind of poncho formed of this cloth, their legs being uncovered.

Others wore clumsily-fashioned trousers, and no upper garment

except hats made of straw and cloth. Many of the dresses, both of

women and men, were grotesque enough, being very bad imitations of

the European garb; but all wore a dress of some sort or other.

They seemed very glad to see us, and crowded round us as the

teacher led the way to his dwelling, where we were entertained, in

the most sumptuous manner, on baked pig and all the varieties of

fruits and vegetables that the island produced. We were much

annoyed, however, by the rats: they seemed to run about the house

like domestic animals. As we sat at table, one of them peeped up

at us over the edge of the cloth, close to Peterkin’s elbow, who

floored it with a blow on the snout from his knife, exclaiming as

he did so -

“I say, Mister Teacher, why don’t you set traps for these brutes? -

surely you are not fond of them!”

“No,” replied the teacher, with a smile; “we would be glad to get

rid of them if we could; but if we were to trap all the rats on the

island, it would occupy our whole time.”

“Are they, then, so numerous?” inquired Jack.

“They swarm everywhere. The poor heathens on the north side eat

them, and think them very sweet. So did my people formerly; but

they do not eat so many now, because the missionary who was last

here expressed disgust at it. The poor people asked if it was

wrong to eat rats; and he told them that it was certainly not

wrong, but that the people of England would be much disgusted were

they asked to eat rats.”

We had not been an hour in the house of this kind-hearted man when

we were convinced of the truth of his statement as to their

numbers, for the rats ran about the floors in dozens, and, during

our meal, two men were stationed at the table to keep them off!

“What a pity you have no cats,” said Peterkin, as he aimed a blow

at another reckless intruder, and missed it.

“We would, indeed, be glad to have a few,” rejoined the teacher,

“but they are difficult to be got. The hogs, we find, are very

good rat-killers, but they do not seem to be able to keep the

numbers down. I have heard that they are better than cats.”

As the teacher said this, his good-natured black face was wrinkled

with a smile of merriment. Observing that I had noticed it, he

said:-

“I smiled just now when I remembered the fate of the first cat that

was taken to Raratonga. This is one of the stations of the London

Missionary Society. It, like our own, is infested with rats, and a

cat was brought at last to the island. It was a large black one.

On being turned loose, instead of being content to stay among men,

the cat took to the mountains, and lived in a wild state, sometimes

paying visits during the night to the houses of the natives; some

of whom, living at a distance from the settlement, had not heard of

the cat’s arrival, and were dreadfully frightened in consequence,

calling it a ‘monster of the deep,’ and flying in terror away from

it. One night the cat, feeling a desire for company, I suppose,

took its way to the house of a chief, who had recently been

converted to Christianity, and had begun to learn to read and pray.

The chief’s wife, who was sitting awake at his side while he slept,

beheld with horror two fires glistening in the doorway, and heard

with surprise a mysterious voice. Almost petrified with fear, she

awoke her husband, and began to upbraid him for forsaking his old

religion, and burning his god, who, she declared, was now come to

be avenged of them. ‘Get up and pray! get up and pray!’ she cried.

The chief arose, and, on opening his eyes, beheld the same glaring

lights, and heard the same ominous sound. Impelled by the extreme

urgency of the case, he commenced, with all possible vehemence, to

vociferate the alphabet, as a prayer to God to deliver them from

the vengeance of Satan! On hearing this, the cat, as much alarmed

as themselves, fled precipitately away, leaving the chief and his

wife congratulating themselves on the efficacy of their prayer.”

We were much diverted with this anecdote, which the teacher related

in English so good, that we certainly could not have supposed him a

native but for the colour of his face and the foreign accent in his

tone. Next day we walked out with this interesting man, and were

much entertained and instructed by his conversation, as we rambled

through the cool shady groves of bananas, citrons, limes, and other

trees, or sauntered among the cottages of the natives, and watched

them while they laboured diligently in the taro beds, or

manufactured the tapa or native cloth. To some of these Jack put

questions through the medium of the missionary; and the replies

were such as to surprise us at the extent of their knowledge.

Indeed, Peterkin very truly remarked that “they seemed to know a

considerable deal more than Jack himself!”

Among other pieces of interesting information that we obtained was

the following, in regard to coral formations:-

“The islands of the Pacific,” said our friend, “are of three

different kinds or classes. Those of the first class are volcanic,

mountainous, and wild; some shooting their jagged peaks into the

clouds at an elevation of ten and fifteen thousand feet. Those of

the second class are of crystalized limestone, and vary in height

from one hundred to five hundred feet. The hills on these are not

so wild or broken as those of the first class, but are richly

clothed with vegetation, and very beautiful. I have no doubt that

the Coral Island on which you were wrecked was one of this class.

They are supposed to have been upheaved from the bottom of the sea

by volcanic agency, but they are not themselves volcanic in their

nature, neither are they of coral formation. Those of the third

class are the low coralline islands usually having lagoons of water

in their midst; they are very numerous.

“As to the manner in which coral islands and reefs are formed;

there are various opinions on this point. I will give you what

seems to me the most probable theory, - a theory, I may add, which

is held by some of the good and scientific missionaries. It is

well known that there is much lime in salt water; it is also known

that coral is composed of lime. It is supposed that the polypes,

or coral insects, have the power of attracting this lime to their

bodies; and with this material they build their little cells or

habitations. They choose the summit of a volcano, or the top of a

submarine mountain, as a foundation on which to build; for it is

found that they never work at any great depth below the surface.

On this they work; the polypes on the mountain top, of course,

reach the surface first, then those at the outer edges reach the

top sooner than the others between them and the centre, thus

forming the coral reef surrounding the lagoon of water and the

central island; after that the insects within the lagoon cease

working. When the surface of the water is reached, these myriads

of wonderful creatures die. Then birds visit the spot, and seeds

are thus conveyed thither, which take root, and spring up, and

flourish. Thus are commenced those coralline islets of which you

have seen so many in these seas. The reefs round the large islands

are formed in a similar manner. When we consider,” added the

missionary, “the smallness of the architects used by our heavenly

Father in order to form those lovely and innumerable islands, we

are filled with much of that feeling which induced the ancient king

to exclaim, ‘How manifold, O God, are thy works! in wisdom thou

hast made them all.’”

We all heartily agreed with the missionary in this sentiment, and

felt not a little gratified to find that the opinions which Jack

and I had been led to form from personal observation on our Coral

Island were thus to a great extent corroborated.

The missionary also gave us an account of the manner in which

Christianity had been introduced among them. He said: “When

missionaries were first sent here, three years ago, a small vessel

brought them; and the chief, who is now dead, promised to treat

well the two native teachers who were left with their wives on the

island. But scarcely had the boat which landed them returned to

the ship, than the natives began to maltreat their guests, taking

away all they possessed, and offering them further violence, so

that, when the boat was sent in haste to fetch them away, the

clothes of both men and women were torn nearly off their backs.

“Two years after this the vessel visited them again, and I, being

in her, volunteered to land alone, without any goods whatever;

begging that my wife might be brought to me the following year, -

that is, THIS year; and, as you see, she is with me. But the surf

was so high that the boat could not land me; so with nothing on but

my trousers and shirt, and with a few catechisms and a Bible,

besides some portions of the Scripture translated into the Mango

tongue, I sprang into the sea, and swam ashore on the crest of a

breaker. I was instantly dragged up the beach by the natives; who,

on finding I had nothing worth having upon me, let me alone. I

then made signs to my friends in the ship to leave me; which they

did. At fist the natives listened to me in silence, but laughed at

what I said while I preached the gospel of our blessed Saviour

Jesus Christ to them. Afterwards they treated me ill sometimes;

but I persevered, and continued to dwell among them, and dispute,

and exhort them to give up their sinful ways of life, burn their

idols, and come to Jesus.

“About a month after I landed, I heard that the chief was dead. He

was the father of the present chief, who is now a most consistent

member of the church. It is a custom here that, when a chief dies,

his wives are strangled and buried with him. Knowing this, I

hastened to his house to endeavour to prevent such cruelty if

possible. When I arrived, I found two of the wives had already

been killed, while another was in the act of being strangled. I

pleaded hard for her, but it was too late; she was already dead. I

then entreated the son to spare the fourth wife; and, after much

hesitation, my prayer was granted: but, in half an hour

afterwards, this poor woman repented of being unfaithful, as she

termed it, to her husband, and insisted on being strangled; which

was accordingly done.

“All this time the chief’s son was walking up and down before his

father’s house with a brow black as thunder. When he entered, I

went in with him, and found, to my surprise, that his father was

not dead! The old man was sitting on a mat in a corner, with an

expression of placid resignation on his face.

“‘Why,’ said I, ‘have you strangled your father’s wives before he

is dead?’

“To this the son replied, ‘He is dead. That is no longer my

father. He is as good as dead now. He is to be BURIED ALIVE.’

“I now remembered having heard that it is a custom among the Feejee

islanders, that when the reigning chief grows old or infirm, the

heir to the chieftainship has a right to depose his father; in

which case he is considered as dead, and is buried alive. The

young chief was now about to follow this custom, and, despite my

earnest entreaties and pleadings, the old chief was buried that day

before my eyes in the same grave with his four strangled wives!

Oh! my heart groaned when I saw this, and I prayed to God to open

the hearts of these poor creatures, as he had already opened mine,

and pour into them the light and the love of the gospel of Jesus.

My prayer was answered very soon. A week afterwards, the son, who

was now chief of the tribe, came to me, bearing his god on his

shoulders, and groaning beneath its weight. Flinging it down at my

feet, he desired me to burn it!

“You may conceive how overjoyed I was at this. I sprang up and

embraced him, while I shed tears of joy. Then we made a fire, and

burned the god to ashes, amid an immense concourse of the people,

who seemed terrified at what was being done, and shrank back when

we burned the god, expecting some signal vengeance to be taken upon

us; but seeing that nothing happened, they changed their minds, and

thought that our God must be the true one after all. From that

time the mission prospered steadily, and now, while there is not a

single man in the tribe who has not burned his household gods, and

become a convert to Christianity, there are not a few, I hope, who

are true followers of the Lamb, having been plucked as brands from

the burning by Him who can save unto the uttermost. I will not

tell you more of our progress at this time, but you see,” he said,

waving his hand around him, “the village and the church did not

exist a year ago!”

We were indeed much interested in this account, and I could not

help again in my heart praying God to prosper those missionary

societies that send such inestimable blessings to these islands of

dark and bloody idolatry. The teacher also added that the other

tribes were very indignant at this one for having burned its gods,

and threatened to destroy it altogether, but they had done nothing

yet; “and if they should,” said the teacher, “the Lord is on our

side; of whom shall we be afraid?”

“Have the missionaries many stations in these seas?” inquired Jack.

“Oh, yes. The London Missionary Society have a great many in the

Tahiti group, and other islands in that quarter. Then the

Wesleyans have the Feejee Islands all to themselves, and the

Americans have many stations in other groups. But still, my

friend, there are hundreds of islands here the natives of which

have never heard of Jesus, or the good word of God, or the Holy

Spirit; and thousands are living and dying in the practice of those

terrible sins and bloody murders of which you have already heard.

I trust, my friends,” he added, looking earnestly into our faces,

“I trust that if you ever return to England, you will tell your

Christian friends that the horrors which they hear of in regard to

these islands are LITERALLY TRUE, and that when they have heard the

worst, the ‘HALF HAS NOT BEEN TOLD THEM;’ for there are perpetrated

here foul deeds of darkness of which man may not speak. You may

also tell them,” he said, looking around with a smile, while a tear

of gratitude trembled in his eye and rolled down his coal-black

cheek, - “tell them of the blessings that the gospel has wrought

HERE!”

We assured our friend that we would certainly not forget his

request. On returning towards the village, about noon, we remarked

on the beautiful whiteness of the cottages.

“That is owing to the lime with which they are plastered,” said the

teacher. “When the natives were converted, as I have described, I

set them to work to build cottages for themselves, and also this

handsome church which you see. When the framework and other parts

of the houses were up, I sent the people to fetch coral from the

sea. They brought immense quantities. Then I made them cut wood,

and, piling the coral above it, set it on fire.

“‘Look! look!’ cried the poor people, in amazement; ‘what wonderful

people the Christians are! He is roasting stones. We shall not

need taro or bread-fruit any more; we may eat stones!’

“But their surprise was still greater when the coral was reduced to

a fine soft white powder. They immediately set up a great shout,

and, mingling the lime with water, rubbed their faces and their

bodies all over with it, and ran through the village screaming with

delight. They were also much surprised at another thing they saw

me do. I wished to make some household furniture, and constructed

a turning-lathe to assist me. The first thing that I turned was

the leg of a sofa; which was no sooner finished than the chief

seized it with wonder and delight, and ran through the village

exhibiting it to the people, who looked upon it with great

admiration. The chief then, tying a string to it, hung it round

his neck as an ornament! He afterwards told me that if he had seen

it before he became a Christian he would have made it his god!”

As the teacher concluded this anecdote we reached his door. Saying

that he had business to attend to, he left us to amuse ourselves as

we best could.

“Now, lads,” said Jack, turning abruptly towards us, and buttoning

up his jacket as he spoke, “I’m off to see the battle. I’ve no

particular fondness for seein’ bloodshed, but I must find out the

nature o’ these fellows and see their customs with my own eyes, so

that I may be able to speak of it again, if need be,

authoritatively. It’s only six miles off, and we don’t run much

more risk than that of getting a rap with a stray stone or an over-shot arrow. Will you go?”

“To be sure we will,” said Peterkin.

“If they chance to see us we’ll cut and run for it,” added Jack.

“Dear me!” cried Peterkin, - “YOU run! thought you would scorn to

run from any one.”

“So I would, if it were my duty to fight,” returned Jack, coolly;

“but as I don’t want to fight, and don’t intend to fight, if they

offer to attack us I’ll run away like the veriest coward that ever

went by the name of Peterkin. So come along.”

CHAPTER XXXI.

A strange and bloody battle - The lion bearded in his den -

Frightful scenes of cruelty, and fears for the future.

WE had ascertained from the teacher the direction to the spot on

which the battle was to be fought, and after a walk of two hours

reached it. The summit of a bare hill was the place chosen; for,

unlike most of the other islanders, who are addicted to bush-fighting, those of Mango are in the habit of meeting on open

ground. We arrived before the two parties had commenced the deadly

struggle, and, creeping as close up as we dared among the rocks, we

lay and watched them.

The combatants were drawn up face to face, each side ranged in rank

four deep. Those in the first row were armed with long spears; the

second, with clubs to defend the spearmen; the third row was

composed of young men with slings; and the fourth consisted of

women, who carried baskets of stones for the slingers, and clubs

and spears with which to supply the warriors. Soon after we

arrived, the attack was made with great fury. There was no science

displayed. The two bodies of savages rushed headlong upon each

other and engaged in a general MELEE, and a more dreadful set of

men I have never seen. They wore grotesque war-caps made of

various substances and decorated with feathers. Their faces and

bodies were painted so as to make them look as frightful as

possible; and as they brandished their massive clubs, leaped,

shouted, yelled, and dashed each other to the ground, I thought I

had never seen men look so like demons before.

We were much surprised at the conduct of the women, who seemed to

be perfect furies, and hung about the heels of their husbands in

order to defend them. One stout young women we saw, whose husband

was hard pressed and about to be overcome: she lifted a large

stone, and throwing it at his opponent’s head, felled him to the

earth. But the battle did not last long. The band most distant

from us gave way and were routed, leaving eighteen of their

comrades dead upon the field. These the victors brained as they

lay; and putting some of their brains on leaves went off with them,

we were afterwards informed, to their temples, to present them to

their gods as an earnest of the human victims who were soon to be

brought there.

We hastened back to the Christian village with feelings of the

deepest sadness at the sanguinary conflict which we had just

witnessed.

Next day, after breakfasting with our friend the teacher, we made

preparations for carrying out our plan. At first the teacher

endeavoured to dissuade us.

“You do not know,” said he, turning to Jack, “the danger you run in

venturing amongst these ferocious savages. I feel much pity for

poor Avatea; but you are not likely to succeed in saving her, and

you may die in the attempt.”

“Well,” said Jack, quietly, “I am not afraid to die in a good

cause.”

The teacher smiled approvingly at him as he said this, and after a

little further conversation agreed to accompany us as interpreter;

saying that, although Tararo was unfriendly to him, he had hitherto

treated him with respect.

We now went on board the schooner, having resolved to sail round

the island and drop anchor opposite the heathen village. We manned

her with natives, and hoped to overawe the savages by displaying

our brass gun to advantage. The teacher soon after came on board,

and setting our sails we put to sea. In two hours more we made the

cliffs reverberate with the crash of the big gun, which we fired by

way of salute, while we ran the British ensign up to the peak and

cast anchor. The commotion on shore showed us that we had struck

terror into the hearts of the natives; but seeing that we did not

offer to molest them, a canoe at length put off and paddled

cautiously towards us. The teacher showed himself, and explaining

that we were friends and wished to palaver with the chief, desired

the native to go and tell him to come on board.

We waited long and with much impatience for an answer. During this

time the native teacher conversed with us again, and told us many

things concerning the success of the gospel among those islands;

and perceiving that we were by no means so much gratified as we

ought to have been at the hearing of such good news, he pressed us

more closely in regard to our personal interest in religion, and

exhorted us to consider that our souls were certainly in as great

danger as those of the wretched heathen whom we pitied so much, if

we had not already found salvation in Jesus Christ. “Nay,

further,” he added, “if such be your unhappy case, you are, in the

sight of God, much worse than these savages (forgive me, my young

friends, for saying so); for they have no knowledge, no light, and

do not profess to believe; while you, on the contrary, have been

brought up in the light of the blessed gospel and call yourselves

Christians. These poor savages are indeed the enemies of our Lord;

but you, if ye be not true believers, are traitors!”

I must confess that my heart condemned me while the teacher spoke

in this earnest manner, and I knew not what to reply. Peterkin,

too, did not seem to like it, and I thought would willingly have

escaped; but Jack seemed deeply impressed, and wore an anxious

expression on his naturally grave countenance, while he assented to

the teacher’s remarks and put to him many earnest questions.

Meanwhile the natives who composed our crew, having nothing

particular to do, had squatted down on the deck and taken out their

little books containing the translated portions of the New

Testament, along with hymns and spelling-books, and were now busily

engaged, some vociferating the alphabet, others learning prayers

off by heart, while a few sang hymns, - all of them being utterly

unmindful of our presence. The teacher soon joined them, and soon

afterwards they all engaged in a prayer which was afterwards

translated to us, and proved to be a petition for the success of

our undertaking and for the conversion of the heathen.

While we were thus engaged a canoe put off from shore and several

savages leaped on deck, one of whom advanced to the teacher and

informed him that Tararo could not come on board that day, being

busy with some religious ceremonies before the gods, which could on

no account be postponed. He was also engaged with a friendly chief

who was about to take his departure from the island, and therefore

begged that the teacher and his friends would land and pay a visit

to him. To this the teacher returned answer that we would land

immediately.

“Now, lads,” said Jack, as we were about to step into our little

boat, “I’m not going to take any weapons with me, and I recommend

you to take none either. We are altogether in the power of these

savages, and the utmost we could do, if they were to attack us,

would be to kill a few of them before we were ourselves

overpowered. I think that our only chance of success lies in mild

measures. Don’t you think so?”

To this I assented gladly, and Peterkin replied by laying down a

huge bell-mouthed blunderbuss, and divesting himself of a pair of

enormous horse-pistols with which he had purposed to overawe the

natives! We then jumped into our boat and rowed ashore.

On reaching the beach we were received by a crowd of naked savages,

who shouted a rude welcome, and conducted us to a house or shed

where a baked pig and a variety of vegetables were prepared for us.

Having partaken of these, the teacher begged to be conducted to the

chief; but there seemed some hesitation, and after some

consultation among themselves, one of the men stood forward and

spoke to the teacher.

“What says he?” inquired Jack when the savage had concluded.

“He says that the chief is just going to the temple of his god and

cannot see us yet; so we must be patient, my friend.”

“Well,” cried Jack, rising; “if he won’t come to see me, I’ll e’en

go and see him. Besides, I have a great desire to witness their

proceedings at this temple of theirs. Will you go with me,

friend?”

“I cannot,” said the teacher, shaking his head; “I must not go to

the heathen temples and witness their inhuman rites, except for the

purpose of condemning their wickedness and folly.”

“Very good,” returned Jack; “then I’ll go alone, for I cannot

condemn their doings till I have seen them.”

Jack arose, and we, having determined to go also, followed him

through the banana groves to a rising ground immediately behind the

village, on the top of which stood the Bure, or temple, under the

dark shade of a group of iron-wood trees. As we went through the

village, I was again led to contrast the rude huts and sheds, and

their almost naked savage-looking inhabitants, with the natives of

the Christian village, who, to use the teacher’s scriptural

expression, were now “clothed and in their right mind.”

As we turned into a broad path leading towards the hill, we were

arrested by the shouts of an approaching multitude in the rear.

Drawing aside into the bushes we awaited their coming up, and as

they drew near we observed that it was a procession of the natives,

many of whom were dancing and gesticulating in the most frantic

manner. They had an exceedingly hideous aspect, owing to the

black, red, and yellow paints with which their faces and naked

bodies were bedaubed. In the midst of these came a band of men

carrying three or four planks, on which were seated in rows upwards

of a dozen men. I shuddered involuntarily as I recollected the

sacrifice of human victims at the island of Emo, and turned with a

look of fear to Jack as I said, -

“Oh, Jack! I have a terrible dread that they are going to commit

some of their cruel practices on these wretched men. We had better

not go to the temple. We shall only be horrified without being

able to do any good, for I fear they are going to kill them.”

Jack’s face wore an expression of deep compassion as he said, in a

low voice, “No fear, Ralph; the sufferings of these poor fellows

are over long ago.”

I turned with a start as he spoke, and, glancing at the men, who

were now quite near to the spot where we stood, saw that they were

all dead. They were tied firmly with ropes in a sitting posture on

the planks, and seemed, as they bent their sightless eyeballs and

grinning mouths over the dancing crew below, as if they were

laughing in ghastly mockery at the utter inability of their enemies

to hurt them now. These, we discovered afterwards, were the men

who had been slain in the battle of the previous day, and were now

on their way to be first presented to the gods, and then eaten.

Behind these came two men leading between them a third, whose hands

were pinioned behind his back. He walked with a firm step, and

wore a look of utter indifference on his face, as they led him

along; so that we concluded he must be a criminal who was about to

receive some slight punishment for his faults. The rear of the

procession was brought up by a shouting crowd of women and

children, with whom we mingled and followed to the temple.

Here we arrived in a few minutes. The temple was a tall circular

building, open at one side. Around it were strewn heaps of human

bones and skulls. At a table inside sat the priest, an elderly

man, with a long gray beard. He was seated on a stool, and before

him lay several knives, made of wood, bone, and splinters of

bamboo, with which he performed his office of dissecting dead

bodies. Farther in lay a variety of articles that had been

dedicated to the god, and among them were many spears and clubs. I

observed among the latter some with human teeth sticking in them,

where the victims had been clubbed in their mouths.

Before this temple the bodies, which were painted with vermilion

and soot, were arranged in a sitting posture; and a man, called a

“dan-vosa” (orator), advanced, and, laying his hands on their

heads, began to chide them, apparently, in a low bantering tone.

What he said we knew not, but, as he went on, he waxed warm, and at

last shouted to them at the top of his lungs, and finally finished

by kicking the bodies over and running away, amid the shouts and

laughter of the people, who now rushed forward. Seizing the bodies

by a leg, or an arm, or by the hair of the head, they dragged them

over stumps and stones and through sloughs, until they were

exhausted. The bodies were then brought back to the temple and

dissected by the priest, after which they were taken out to be

baked.

Close to the temple a large fire was kindled, in which stones were

heated red hot. When ready these were spread out on the ground,

and a thick coating of leaves strewn over them to slack the heat.

On this “lovo,” or oven, the bodies were then placed, covered over,

and left to bake.

The crowd now ran, with terrible yells, towards a neighbouring hill

or mound, on which we observed the framework of a house lying

ready to be erected. Sick with horror, yet fascinated by

curiosity, we staggered after them mechanically, scarce knowing

where we were going or what we did, and feeling a sort of

impression that all we saw was a dreadful dream.

Arrived at the place, we saw the multitude crowding round a certain

spot. We pressed forward and obtained a sight of what they were

doing. A large wooden beam or post lay on the ground, beside the

other parts of the framework of the house, and close to the end of

it was a hole about seven feet deep and upwards of two feet wide.

While we looked, the man whom we had before observed with his hands

pinioned, was carried into the circle. His hands were now free,

but his legs were tightly strapped together. The post of the house

was then placed in the hole, and the man put in beside it. His

head was a good way below the surface of the hole, and his arms

were clasped round the post. Earth was now thrown in until all was

covered over and stamped down; and this, we were afterwards told,

was a CEREMONY usually performed at the dedication of a new temple,

or the erection of a chief’s house

“Come, come,” cried Jack, on beholding this horrible tragedy, “we

have seen enough, enough, far more than enough! Let us go.”

Jack’s face looked ghastly pale and haggard as we hurried back to

rejoin the teacher, and I have no doubt that he felt terrible

anxiety when he considered the number and ferocity of the savages,

and the weakness of the few arms which were ready indeed to essay,

but impotent to effect, Avatea’s deliverance from these ruthless

men.

CHAPTER XXXII.

An unexpected discovery, and a bold, reckless defiance, with its

consequences - Plans of escape, and heroic resolves.

WHEN we returned to the shore, and related to our friend what had

passed, he was greatly distressed, and groaned in spirit; but we

had not sat long in conversation, when we were interrupted by the

arrival of Tararo on the beach, accompanied by a number of

followers bearing baskets of vegetables and fruits on their heads.

We advanced to meet him, and he expressed, through our interpreter,

much pleasure in seeing us.

“And what is it that my friends wish to say to me?” he inquired.

The teacher explained that we came to beg that Avatea might be

spared.

“Tell him,” said Jack, “that I consider that I have a right to ask

this of him, having not only saved the girl’s life, but the lives

of his own people also; and say that I wish her to be allowed to

follow her own wishes, and join the Christians.”

While this was being translated, the chiefs brow lowered, and we

could see plainly that our request met with no favourable

reception. He replied with considerable energy, and at some

length.

“What says he?” inquired Jack.

“I regret to say that he will not listen to the proposal. He says

he has pledged his word to his friend that the girl shall be sent

to him, and a deputy is even now on this island awaiting the

fulfilment of the pledge.”

Jack bit his lip in suppressed anger. “Tell Tararo,” he exclaimed

with flashing eye, “that if he does not grant my demand, it will be

worse for him. Say I have a big gun on board my schooner that will

blow his village into the sea, if he does not give up the girl.”

“Nay, my friend,” said the teacher, gently, “I will not tell him

that; we must overcome evil with good.’”

“What does my friend say?” inquired the chief, who seemed nettled

by Jack’s looks of defiance.

“He is displeased,” replied the teacher.

Tararo turned away with a smile of contempt, and walked towards the

men who carried the baskets of vegetables, and who had now emptied

the whole on the beach in an enormous pile.

“What are they doing there?” I inquired.

“I think that they are laying out a gift which they intend to

present to some one,” said the teacher.

At this moment a couple of men appeared leading a young girl

between them; and, going towards the heap of fruits and vegetables,

placed her on the top of it. We started with surprise and fear,

for in the young female before us we recognised the Samoan girl,

Avatea!

We stood rooted to the earth with surprise and thick coming fears.

“Oh! my dear young friend,” whispered the teacher, in a voice of

deep emotion, while he seized Jack by the arm, “she is to be made a

sacrifice even now!”

“Is she?” cried Jack, with a vehement shout, spurning the teacher

aside, and dashing over two natives who stood in his way, while he

rushed towards the heap, sprang up its side, and seized Avatea by

the arm. In another moment he dragged her down, placed her back to

a large tree, and, wrenching a war-club from the hand of a native

who seemed powerless and petrified with surprise, whirled it above

his head, and yelled, rather than shouted, while his face blazed

with fury, “Come on, the whole nation of you, an ye like it, and do

your worst!”

It seemed as though the challenge had been literally accepted; for

every savage on the ground ran precipitately at Jack with club and

spear, and, doubtless, would speedily have poured out his brave

blood on the sod, had not the teacher rushed in between them, and,

raising his voice to its utmost, cried. -

“Stay your hands, warriors! It is not your part to judge in this

matter. It is for Tararo, the chief, to say whether or not the

young man shall live or die.”

The natives were arrested; and I know not whether it was the

gratifying acknowledgment of his superiority thus made by the

teacher, or some lingering feeling of gratitude for Jack’s former

aid in time of need, that influenced Tararo, but he stepped

forward, and, waving his hand, said to his people, - “Desist. The

young man’s life is mine.” Then, turning to Jack, he said, “You

have forfeited your liberty and life to me. Submit yourself, for

we are more numerous than the sand upon the shore. You are but

one; why should you die?”

“Villain!” exclaimed Jack, passionately, “I may die, but,

assuredly, I shall not perish alone. I will not submit until you

promise that this girl shall not be injured.”

“You are very bold,” replied the chief, haughtily, “but very

foolish. Yet I will say that Avatea shall not be sent away, at

least for three days.”

“You had better accept these terms,” whispered the teacher,

entreatingly. “If you persist in this mad defiance, you will be

slain, and Avatea will be lost. Three days are worth having.”

Jack hesitated a moment, then lowered his club, and, throwing it

moodily to the ground, crossed his arms on his breast, and hung

down his head in silence.

Tararo seemed pleased by his submission, and told the teacher to

say that he did not forget his former services, and, therefore,

would leave him free as to his person, but that the schooner would

be detained till he had further considered the matter.

While the teacher translated this, he approached as near to where

Avatea was standing as possible, without creating suspicion, and

whispered to her a few words in the native language. Avatea, who,

during the whole of the foregoing scene, had stood leaning against

the tree perfectly passive, and seemingly quite uninterested in all

that was going on, replied by a single rapid glance of her dark

eye, which was instantly cast down again on the ground at her feet.

Tararo now advanced, and taking the girl by the hand, led her

unresistingly away, while Jack, Peterkin, and I returned with the

teacher on board the schooner.

On reaching the deck, we went down to the cabin, where Jack threw

himself, in a state of great dejection, on a couch; but the teacher

seated himself by his side, and, laying his hand upon his shoulder,

said, -

“Do not give way to anger, my young friend. God has given us three

days, and we must use the means that are in our power to free this

poor girl from slavery. We must not sit in idle disappointment, we

must act” -

“Act!” cried Jack, raising himself, and tossing back his hair

wildly; “it is mockery to balk of acting when one is bound hand and

foot. How can I act? I cannot fight a whole nation of savages

single-handed. Yes,” he said, with a bitter smile, “I can fight

them, but I cannot conquer them, or save Avatea.”

“Patience, my friend; your spirit is not a good one just now. You

cannot expect that blessing which alone can insure success, unless

you are more submissive. I will tell you my plans if you will

listen.”

“Listen!” cried Jack, eagerly, “of course I will, my good fellow; I

did not know you had any plans. Out with them. I only hope you

will show me how I can get the girl on board of this schooner, and

I’d up anchor and away in no time. But proceed with your plans.”

The teacher smiled sadly: “Ah! my friend, if one fathom of your

anchor chain were to rattle, as you drew it in, a thousand warriors

would be standing on your deck. No, no, that could not be done.

Even now, your ship would be taken from you were it not that Tararo

has some feeling of gratitude toward you. But I know Tararo well.

He is a man of falsehood, as all the unconverted savages are. The

chief to whom he has promised this girl is very powerful, and

Tararo MUST fulfil his promise. He has told you that he would do

nothing to the girl for three days; but that is because the party

who are to take her away will not be ready to start for three days.

Still, as he might have made you a prisoner during those three

days, I say that God has given them to us.”

“Well, but what do you propose to do?” said Jack, impatiently.

“My plan involves much danger, but I see no other, and I think you

have courage to brave it. It is this: There is an island about

fifty miles to the south of this, the natives of which are

Christians, and have been so for two years or more, and the

principal chief is Avatea’s lover. Once there, Avatea would be

safe. Now, I suggest that you should abandon your schooner. Do

you think that you can make so great a sacrifice?”

“Friend,” replied Jack, “when I make up my mind to go through with

a thing of importance, I can make any sacrifice.”

The teacher smiled. “Well, then, the savages could not conceive it

possible that, for the sake of a girl, you would voluntarily lose

your fine vessel; therefore as long as she lies here they think

they have you all safe: so I suggest that we get a quantity of

stores conveyed to a sequestered part of the shore, provide a small

canoe, put Avatea on board, and you three would paddle to the

Christian island.”

“Bravo!” cried Peterkin, springing up and seizing the teacher’s

hand. “Missionary, you’re a regular brick. I didn’t think you had

so much in you.”

“As for me,” continued the teacher, “I will remain on board till

they discover that you are gone. Then they will ask me where you

are gone to, and I will refuse to tell.”

“And what’ll be the result of that?” inquired Jack.

“I know not. Perhaps they will kill me; but,” he added, looking at

Jack with a peculiar smile, “I too am not afraid to die in a good

cause!”

“But how are we to get hold of Avatea?” inquired Jack.

“I have arranged with her to meet us at a particular spot, to which

I will guide you to-night. We shall then arrange about it. She

will easily manage to elude her keepers, who are not very strict in

watching her, thinking it impossible that she could escape from the

island. Indeed, I am sure that such an idea will never enter their

heads. But, as I have said, you run great danger. Fifty miles in

a small canoe, on the open sea, is a great voyage to make. You may

miss the island, too, in which case there is no other in that

direction for a hundred miles or more; and if you lose your way and

fall among other heathens, you know the law of Feejee - a cast-away

who gains the shore is doomed to die. You must count the cost, my

young friend.”

“I have counted it,” replied Jack. “If Avatea consents to run the

risk, most certainly I will; and so will my comrades also.

Besides,” added Jack, looking seriously into the teacher’s face,

“your Bible, - OUR Bible, tells of ONE who delivers those who call

on Him in the time of trouble; who holds the winds in his fists and

the waters in the hollow of his hand.”

We now set about active preparations for the intended voyage;

collected together such things as we should require, and laid out

on the deck provisions sufficient to maintain us for several weeks,

purposing to load the canoe with as much as she could hold

consistently with speed and safety. These we covered with a

tarpaulin, intending to convey them to the canoe only a few hours

before starting. When night spread her sable curtain over the

scene, we prepared to land; but, first, kneeling along with the

natives and the teacher, the latter implored a blessing on our

enterprise. Then we rowed quietly to the shore and followed our

sable guide, who led us by a long detour, in order to avoid the

village, to the place of rendezvous. We had not stood more than

five minutes under the gloomy shade of the thick foliage when a

dark figure glided noiselessly up to us.

“Ah! here you are,” said Jack, as Avatea approached. “Now, then,

tell her what we’ve come about, and don’t waste time.”

“I understan’ leetl English,” said Avatea, in a low voice.

“Why, where did you pick up English?” exclaimed Jack, in amazement;

“you were dumb as a stone when I saw you last.”

“She has learned all she knows of it from me,” said the teacher,

“since she came to the island.”

We now gave Avatea a full explanation of our plans, entering into

all the details, and concealing none of the danger, so that she

might be fully aware of the risk she ran. As we had anticipated,

she was too glad of the opportunity thus afforded her to escape

from her persecutors to think of the danger or risk.

“Then you’re willing to go with us, are you?” said Jack.

“Yis, I am willing to go.”

“And you’re not afraid to trust yourself out on the deep sea so

far?”

“No, I not ‘fraid to go. Safe with Christian.”

After some further consultation, the teacher suggested that it was

time to return, so we bade Avatea good night, and having appointed

to meet at the cliff where the canoe lay, on the following night,

just after dark, we hastened away - we to row on board the schooner

with muffled oars - Avatea to glide back to her prison-hut among

the Mango savages.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

The flight - The pursuit - Despair and its results - The lion

bearded in his den again - Awful danger threatened and wonderfully

averted - A terrific storm.

AS the time for our meditated flight drew near, we became naturally

very fearful lest our purpose should be discovered, and we spent

the whole of the following day in a state of nervous anxiety. We

resolved to go a-shore and ramble about the village, as if to

observe the habits and dwellings of the people, as we thought that

an air of affected indifference to the events of the previous day

would be more likely than any other course of conduct to avert

suspicion as to our intentions. While we were thus occupied, the

teacher remained on board with the Christian natives, whose

powerful voices reached us ever and anon as they engaged in singing

hymns or in prayer.

At last the long and tedious day came to a close, the sank into the

sea, and the short-lived twilight of those regions, to which I have

already referred, ended abruptly in a dark night. Hastily throwing

a few blankets into our little boat, we stepped into it, and,

whispering farewell to the natives in the schooner, rowed gently

over the lagoon, taking care to keep as near to the beach as

possible. We rowed in the utmost silence and with muffled oars, so

that had any one observed us at the distance of a few yards, he

might have almost taken us for a phantom-boat or a shadow on the

dark water. Not a breath of air was stirring; but fortunately the

gentle ripple of the sea upon the shore, mingled with the soft roar

of the breaker on the distant reef, effectually drowned the slight

plash that we unavoidably made in the water by the dipping of our

oars.

Quarter of an hour sufficed to bring us to the overhanging cliff

under whose black shadow our little canoe lay, with her bow in the

water ready to be launched, and most of her cargo already stowed

away. As the keel of our little boat grated on the sand, a hand

was laid upon the bow, and a dim form was seen.

“Ha!” said Peterkin in a whisper, as he stepped upon the beach, “is

that you, Avatea?”

“Yis, it am me,” was the reply.

“All right! Now, then, gently. Help me to shove off the canoe,”

whispered Jack to the teacher; “and Peterkin, do you shove these

blankets aboard, we may want them before long. Avatea, step into

the middle; - that’s right.”

“Is all ready?” whispered the teacher.

“Not quite,” replied Peterkin. “Here, Ralph, lay hold o’ this pair

of oars, and stow them away if you can. I don’t like paddles.

After we’re safe away I’ll try to rig up rollicks for them.”

“Now, then, in with you and shove off.”

One more earnest squeeze of the kind teacher’s hand, and, with his

whispered blessing yet sounding in our ears, we shot like an arrow

from the shore, sped over the still waters of the lagoon, and

paddled as swiftly as strong arms and willing hearts could urge us

over the long swell of the open sea.

All that night and the whole of the following day we plied our

paddles in almost total silence and without halt, save twice to

recruit our failing energies with a mouthful of food and a draught

of water. Jack had taken the bearing of the island just after

starting, and laying a small pocket-compass before him, kept the

head of the canoe due south, for our chance of hitting the island

depended very much on the faithfulness of our steersman in keeping

our tiny bark exactly and constantly on its proper course.

Peterkin and I paddled in the bow, and Avatea worked untiringly in

the middle.

As the sun’s lower limb dipped on the gilded edge of the sea Jack

ceased working, threw down his paddle, and called a halt.

“There,” he cried, heaving a deep, long-drawn sigh, “we’ve put a

considerable breadth of water between us and these black rascals,

so now we’ll have a hearty supper and a sound sleep.”

“Hear, hear,” cried Peterkin. “Nobly spoken, Jack. Hand me a drop

water, Ralph. Why, girl what’s wrong with you? You look just like

a black owl blinking in the sunshine.”

Avatea smiled. “I sleepy,” she said; and as if to prove the truth

of this, she laid her head on the edge of the canoe and fell fast

asleep.

“That’s uncommon sharp practice,” said Peterkin, with a broad grin.

“Don’t you think we should awake her to make her eat something

first? or, perhaps,” he added, with a grave, meditative look,

“perhaps we might put some food in her mouth, which is so elegantly

open at the present moment, and see if she’d swallow it while

asleep. If so, Ralph, you might come round to the front here and

feed her quietly, while Jack and I are tucking into the victuals.

It would be a monstrous economy of time.”

I could not help smiling at Peterkin’s idea, which, indeed, when I

pondered it, seemed remarkably good in theory; nevertheless I

declined to put it in practice, being fearful of the result should

the victual chance to go down the wrong throat. But, on suggesting

this to Peterkin, he exclaimed -

“Down the wrong throat, man! why, a fellow with half an eye might

see that if it went down Avatea’s throat it could not go down the

wrong throat! - unless, indeed, you have all of a sudden become

inordinately selfish, and think that all the throats in the world

are wrong ones except your own. However, don’t talk so much, and

hand me the pork before Jack finishes it. I feel myself entitled

to at least one minute morsel.”

“Peterkin, you’re a villain. A paltry little villain,” said Jack,

quietly, as he tossed the hind legs (including the tail) of a cold

roast pig to his comrade; “and I must again express my regret that

unavoidable circumstances have thrust your society upon me, and

that necessity has compelled me to cultivate your acquaintance.

Were it not that you are incapable of walking upon the water, I

would order you, sir, out of the canoe.”

“There! you’ve wakened Avatea with your long tongue,” retorted

Peterkin, with a frown, as the girl gave vent to a deep sigh.

“No,” he continued, “it was only a snore. Perchance she dreameth

of her black Apollo. I say, Ralph, do leave just one little slice

of that yam. Between you and Jack I run a chance of being put on

short allowance, if not - yei - a - a - ow!”

Peterkin’s concluding remark was a yawn of so great energy that

Jack recommended him to postpone the conclusion of his meal till

next morning, - a piece of advice which he followed so quickly,

that I was forcibly reminded of his remark, a few minutes before,

in regard to the sharp practice of Avatea.

My readers will have observed, probably, by this time, that I am

much given to meditation; they will not, therefore, be surprised to

learn that I fell into a deep reverie on the subject of sleep,

which was continued without intermission into the night, and

prolonged without interruption into the following morning. But I

cannot feel assured that I actually slept during that time,

although I am tolerably certain that I was not awake.

Thus we lay like a shadow on the still bosom of the ocean, while

the night closed in, and all around was calm, dark, and silent.

A thrilling cry of alarm from Peterkin startled us in the morning,

just as the gray dawn began to glimmer in the east.

“What’s wrong?” cried Jack, starting up.

Peterkin replied by pointing with a look of anxious dread towards

the horizon; and a glance sufficed to show us that one of the

largest sized war-canoes was approaching us!

With a groan of mingled despair and anger Jack seized his paddle,

glanced at the compass, and, in a suppressed voice, commanded us to

“give way.”

But we did not require to be urged. Already our four paddles were

glancing in the water, and the canoe bounded over the glassy sea

like a dolphin, while a shout from our pursuers told that they had

observed our motions.

“I see something like land ahead,” said Jack, in a hopeful tone.

“It seems impossible that we could have made the island yet; still,

if it is so, we may reach it before these fellows can catch us, for

our canoe is light and our muscles are fresh.”

No one replied; for, to say truth, we felt that, in a long chase,

we had no chance whatever with a canoe which held nearly a hundred

warriors. Nevertheless, we resolved to do our utmost to escape,

and paddled with a degree of vigour that kept us well in advance of

our pursuers. The war-canoe was so far behind us that it seemed

but a little speck on the sea, and the shouts, to which the crew

occasionally gave vent, came faintly towards us on the morning

breeze. We therefore hoped that we should be able to keep in

advance for an hour or two, when we might, perhaps, reach the land

ahead. But this hope was suddenly crushed by the supposed land,

not long after, rising up into the sky; thus proving itself to be a

fog-bank!

A bitter feeling of disappointment filled each heart, and was

expressed on each countenance, as we beheld this termination to our

hopes. But we had little time to think of regret. Our danger was

too great and imminent to permit of a moment’s relaxation from our

exertions. No hope now animated our bosoms; but a feeling of

despair, strange to say, lent us power to work, and nerved our arms

with such energy, that it was several hours ere the savages

overtook us. When we saw that there was indeed no chance of

escape, and that paddling any longer would only serve to exhaust

our strength, without doing any good, we turned the side of our

canoe towards the approaching enemy, and laid down our paddles.

Silently, and with a look of bitter determination on his face, Jack

lifted one of the light boat-oars that we had brought with us, and,

resting it on his shoulder, stood up in an attitude of bold

defiance. Peterkin took the other oar and also stood up, but there

was no anger visible on his countenance. When not sparkling with

fun, it usually wore a mild, sad expression, which was deepened on

the present occasion, as he glanced at Avatea, who sat with her

face resting in her hands upon her knees. Without knowing very

well what I intended to do, I also arose and grasped my paddle with

both hands.

On came the large canoe like a war-horse of the deep, with the foam

curling from its sharp bow, and the spear-heads of the savages

glancing the beams of the rising sun. Perfect silence was

maintained on both sides, and we could hear the hissing water, and

see the frowning eyes of the warriors, as they came rushing on.

When about twenty yards distant, five or six of the savages in the

bow rose, and, laying aside their paddles, took up their spears.

Jack and Peterkin raised their oars, while, with a feeling of

madness whirling in my brain, I grasped my paddle and prepared for

the onset. But, before any of us could strike a blow, the sharp

prow of the war-canoe struck us like a thunderbolt on the side, and

hurled us into the sea!

What occurred after this I cannot tell, for I was nearly drowned;

but when I recovered from the state of insensibility into which I

had been thrown, I found myself stretched on my back, bound hand

and foot between Jack and Peterkin, in the bottom of the large

canoe.

In this condition we lay the whole day, during which time the

savages only rested one hour. When night came, they rested again

for another hour, and appeared to sleep just as they sat. But we

were neither unbound nor allowed to speak to each other during the

voyage, nor was a morsel of food or a draught of water given to us.

For food, however, we cared little; but we would have given much

for a drop of water to cool our parched lips, and we would have

been glad, too, had they loosened the cords that bound us, for they

were tightly fastened and occasioned us much pain. The air, also,

was unusually hot, so much so that I felt convinced that a storm

was brewing. This also added to our sufferings. However, these

were at length relieved by our arrival at the island from which we

had fled.

While we were being led ashore, we caught a glimpse of Avatea, who

was seated in the hinder part of the canoe. She was not fettered

in any way. Our captors now drove us before them towards the hut

of Tararo, at which we speedily arrived, and found the chief seated

with an expression on his face that boded us no good. Our friend

the teacher stood beside him, with a look of anxiety on his mild

features.

“How comes it,” said Tararo, turning to the teacher, “that these

youths have abused our hospitality?”

“Tell him,” replied Jack, “that we have not abused his hospitality,

for his hospitality has not been extended to us. I came to the

island to deliver Avatea, and my only regret is that I have failed

to do so. If I get another chance, I will try to save her yet.”

The teacher shook his head. “Nay, my young friend, I had better

not tell him that. It will only incense him.”

“Fear not,” replied Jack. “If you don’t tell him that, you’ll tell

him nothing, for I won’t say anything softer.”

On hearing Jack’s speech, Tararo frowned and his eye flashed with

anger.

“Go,” he said, “presumptuous boy. My debt to you is cancelled.

You and your companions shall die.”

As he spoke he rose and signed to several of his attendants, who

seized Jack, and Peterkin, and me, violently by the collars, and,

dragging us from the hut of the chief, led us through the wood to

the outskirts of the village. Here they thrust us into a species

of natural cave in a cliff, and, having barricaded the entrance,

left us in total darkness.

After feeling about for some time - for our legs were unshackled,

although our wrists were still bound with thongs - we found a low

ledge of rock running along one side of the cavern. On this we

seated ourselves, and for a long time maintained unbroken silence.

At last I could restrain my feelings no longer. “Alas! dear Jack

and Peterkin,” said I, “what is to become of us? I fear that we

are doomed to die.”

“I know not,” replied Jack, in a tremulous voice, “I know not;

Ralph, I regret deeply the hastiness of my violent temper, which, I

must confess, has been the chief cause of our being brought to this

sad condition. Perhaps the teacher may do something for us. But I

have little hope.”

“Ah! no,” said Peterkin, with a heavy sigh; “I am sure he can’t

help us. Tararo doesn’t care more for him than for one of his

dogs.”

“Truly,” said I, “there seems no chance of deliverance, unless the

Almighty puts forth his arm to save us. Yet I must say that I have

great hope, my comrades, for we have come to this dark place by no

fault of ours - unless it be a fault to try to succour a woman in

distress.”

I was interrupted in my remarks by a noise at the entrance to the

cavern, which was caused by the removal of the barricade.

Immediately after, three men entered, and, taking us by the collars

of our coats, led us away through the forest. As we advanced, we

heard much shouting and beating of native drums in the village, and

at first we thought that our guards were conducting us to the hut

of Tararo again. But in this we were mistaken. The beating of

drums gradually increased, and soon after we observed a procession

of the natives coming towards us. At the head of this procession

we were placed, and then we all advanced together towards the

temple where human victims were wont to be sacrificed!

A thrill of horror ran through my heart as I recalled to mind the

awful scenes that I had before witnessed at that dreadful spot.

But deliverance came suddenly from a quarter whence we little

expected it. During the whole of that day there had been an

unusual degree of heat in the atmosphere, and the sky assumed that

lurid aspect which portends a thunder-storm. Just as we were

approaching the horrid temple, a growl of thunder burst overhead

and heavy drops of rain began to fall

Those who have not witnessed gales and storms in tropical regions

can form but a faint conception of the fearful hurricane that burst

upon the island of Mango at this time. Before we reached the

temple, the storm burst upon us with a deafening roar, and the

natives, who knew too well the devastation that was to follow, fled

right and left through the woods in order to save their property,

leaving us alone in the midst of the howling storm. The trees

around us bent before the blast like willows, and we were about to

flee in order to seek shelter, when the teacher ran toward us with

a knife in his hand.

“Thank the Lord,” he said, cutting our bonds, “I am in time! Now,

seek the shelter of the nearest rock.”

This we did without a moment’s hesitation, for the whistling wind

burst, ever and anon, like thunder-claps among the trees, and,

tearing them from their roots, hurled them with violence to the

ground. Rain cut across the land in sheets, and lightning played

like forked serpents in the air; while, high above the roar of the

hissing tempest, the thunder crashed, and burst, and rolled in

awful majesty.

In the village the scene was absolutely appalling. Roofs were

blown completely off the houses in many cases; and in others, the

houses themselves were levelled with the ground. In the midst of

this, the natives were darting to and fro, in some instances saving

their goods, but in many others seeking to save themselves from the

storm of destruction that whirled around them. But, terrific

although the tempest was on land, it was still more tremendous on

the mighty ocean. Billows sprang, as it were, from the great deep,

and while their crests were absolutely scattered into white mist,

they fell upon the beach with a crash that seemed to shake the

solid land. But they did not end there. Each successive wave

swept higher and higher on the beach, until the ocean lashed its

angry waters among the trees and bushes, and at length, in a sheet

of white curdled foam, swept into the village and upset and carried

off, or dashed into wreck, whole rows of the native dwellings! It

was a sublime, an awful scene, calculated, in some degree at least,

to impress the mind of beholders with the might and the majesty of

God.

We found shelter in a cave that night and all the next day, during

which time the storm raged in fury; but on the night following it

abated somewhat, and in the morning we went to the village to seek

for food, being so famished with hunger that we lost all feeling of

danger and all wish to escape in our desire to satisfy the cravings

of nature. But no sooner had we obtained food than we began to

wish that we had rather endeavoured to make our escape into the

mountains. This we attempted to do soon afterwards, but the

natives were now able to look after us, and on our showing a

disposition to avoid observation and make towards the mountains, we

were seized by three warriors, who once more bound our wrists and

thrust us into our former prison.

It is true Jack made a vigorous resistance, and knocked down the

first savage who seized him, with a well-directed blow of his fist,

but he was speedily overpowered by others. Thus we were again

prisoners, with the prospect of torture and a violent death before

us.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Imprisonment - Sinking hopes - Unexpected freedom to more than one,

and in more senses than one.

FOR a long long month we remained in our dark and dreary prison,

during which dismal time we did not see the face of a human being,

except that of the silent savage who brought us our daily food.

There have been one or two seasons in my life during which I have

felt as if the darkness of sorrow and desolation that crushed my

inmost heart could never pass away, until death should make me

cease to feel the present was such a season.

During the first part of our confinement we felt a cold chill at

our hearts every time we heard a foot-fall near the cave - dreading

lest it should prove to be that of our executioner. But as time

dragged heavily on, we ceased to feel this alarm, and began to

experience such a deep, irrepressible longing for freedom, that we

chafed and fretted in our confinement like tigers. Then a feeling

of despair came over us, and we actually longed for the time when

the savages would take us forth to die! But these changes took

place very gradually, and were mingled sometimes with brighter

thoughts; for there were times when we sat in that dark cavern on

our ledge of rock and conversed almost pleasantly about the past,

until we well-nigh forgot the dreary present. But we seldom

ventured to touch upon the future.

A few decayed leaves and boughs formed our bed; and a scanty supply

of yams and taro, brought to us once a-day, constituted our food.

“Well, Ralph, how have you slept?” said Jack, in a listless tone,

on rising one morning from his humble couch. “Were you much

disturbed by the wind last night?”

“No,” said I; “I dreamed of home all night, and I thought that my

mother smiled upon me, and beckoned me to go to her; but I could

not, for I was chained.”

“And I dreamed, too,” said Peterkin; “but it was of our happy home

on the Coral Island. I thought we were swimming in the Water

Garden; then the savages gave a yell, and we were immediately in

the cave at Spouting Cliff, which, somehow or other, changed into

this gloomy cavern; and I awoke to find it true.”

Peterkin’s tone was so much altered by the depressing influence of

his long imprisonment, that, had I not known it was he who spoke, I

should scarcely have recognised it, so sad was it, and so unlike to

the merry, cheerful voice we had been accustomed to hear. I

pondered this much, and thought of the terrible decline of

happiness that may come on human beings in so short a time; how

bright the sunshine in the sky at one time, and, in a short space,

how dark the overshadowing cloud! I had no doubt that the Bible

would have given me much light and comfort on this subject, if I

had possessed one, and I once more had occasion to regret deeply

having neglected to store my memory with its consoling truths.

While I meditated thus, Peterkin again broke the silence of the

cave, by saying, in a melancholy tone, “Oh, I wonder if we shall

ever see our dear island more.”

His voice trembled, and, covering his face with both hands, he bent

down his head and wept. It was an unusual sight for me to see our

once joyous companion in tears, and I felt a burning desire to

comfort him; but, alas! what could I say? I could hold out no

hope; and although I essayed twice to speak, the words refused to

pass my lips. While I hesitated, Jack sat down beside him, and

whispered a few words in his ear, while Peterkin threw himself on

his friend’s breast, and rested his head on his shoulder.

Thus we sat for some time in deep silence. Soon after, we heard

footsteps at the entrance of the cave, and immediately our jailer

entered. We were so much accustomed to his regular visits,

however, that we paid little attention to him, expecting that he

would set down our meagre fare, as usual, and depart. But, to our

surprise, instead of doing so, he advanced towards us with a knife

in his hand, and, going up to Jack, he cut the thongs that bound

his wrists, then he did the same to Peterkin and me! For fully

five minutes we stood in speechless amazement, with our freed hands

hanging idly by our sides. The first thought that rushed into my

mind was, that the time had come to put us to death; and although,

as I have said before, we actually wished for death in the strength

of our despair, now that we thought it drew really near I felt all

the natural love of life revive in my heart, mingled with a chill

of horror at the suddenness of our call

But I was mistaken. After cutting our bonds, the savage pointed to

the cave’s mouth, and we marched, almost mechanically, into the

open air. Here, to our surprise, we found the teacher standing

under a tree, with his hands clasped before him, and the tears

trickling down his dark cheeks. On seeing Jack, who came out

first, he sprang towards him, and clasping him in his arms,

exclaimed, -

“Oh! my dear young friend, through the great goodness of God you

are free!”

“Free!” cried Jack.

“Ay, free,” repeated the teacher, shaking us warmly by the hands

again and again; “free to go and come as you will. The Lord has

unloosed the bands of the captive and set the prisoners free. A

missionary has been sent to us, and Tararo has embraced the

Christian religion! The people are even now burning their gods of

wood! Come, my dear friends, and see the glorious sight.”

We could scarcely credit our senses. So long had we been

accustomed in our cavern to dream of deliverance, that we imagined

for a moment this must surely be nothing more than another vivid

dream. Our eyes and minds were dazzled, too, by the brilliant

sunshine, which almost blinded us after our long confinement to the

gloom of our prison, so that we felt giddy with the variety of

conflicting emotions that filled our throbbing bosoms; but as we

followed the footsteps of our sable friend, and beheld the bright

foliage of the trees, and heard the cries of the paroquets, and

smelt the rich perfume of the flowering shrubs, the truth, that we

were really delivered from prison and from death, rushed with

overwhelming power into our souls, and, with one accord, while

tears sprang to our eyes, we uttered a loud long cheer of joy.

It was replied to by a shout from a number of the natives who

chanced to be near. Running towards us, they shook us by the hand

with every demonstration of kindly feeling. They then fell behind,

and, forming a sort of procession, conducted us to the dwelling of

Tararo.

The scene that met our eyes here was one that I shall never forget.

On a rude bench in front of his house sat the chief. A native

stood on his left hand, who, from his dress, seemed to be a

teacher. On his right stood an English gentleman, who, I at once

and rightly concluded, was a missionary. He was tall, thin, and

apparently past forty, with a bald forehead, and thin gray hair.

The expression of his countenance was the most winning I ever saw,

and his clear gray eye beamed with a look that was frank, fearless,

loving, and truthful. In front of the chief was an open space, in

the centre of which lay a pile of wooden idols, ready to be set on

fire; and around these were assembled thousands of natives, who had

come to join in or to witness the unusual sight. A bright smile

overspread the missionary’s face as he advanced quickly to meet us,

and he shook us warmly by the hands.

“I am overjoyed to meet you, my dear young friends,” he said. “My

friend, and your friend, the teacher, has told me your history; and

I thank our Father in heaven, with all my heart, that he has guided

me to this island, and made me the instrument of saving you.”

We thanked the missionary most heartily, and asked him in some

surprise how he had succeeded in turning the heart of Tararo in our

favour.

“I will tell you that at a more convenient time,” he answered,

“meanwhile we must not forget the respect due to the chief. He

waits to receive you.”

In the conversation that immediately followed between us and

Tararo, the latter said that the light of the gospel of Jesus

Christ had been sent to the island, and that to it we were indebted

for our freedom. Moreover, he told us that we were at liberty to

depart in our schooner whenever we pleased, and that we should be

supplied with as much provision as we required. He concluded by

shaking hands with us warmly, and performing the ceremony of

rubbing noses.

This was indeed good news to us, and we could hardly find words to

express our gratitude to the chief and to the missionary.

“And what of Avatea?” inquired Jack.

The missionary replied by pointing to a group of natives in the

midst of whom the girl stood. Beside her was a tall, strapping

fellow, whose noble mien and air of superiority bespoke him a chief

of no ordinary kind.

“That youth is her lover. He came this very morning in his war-canoe to treat with Tararo for Avatea. He is to be married in a

few days, and afterwards returns to his island home with his

bride!”

“That’s capital,” said Jack, as he stepped up to the savage and

gave him a hearty shake of the hand. “I wish you joy, my lad; -

and you too, Avatea.”

As Jack spoke, Avatea’s lover took him by the hand and led him to

the spot where Tararo and the missionary stood, surrounded by most

of the chief men of the tribe. The girl herself followed, and

stood on his left hand while her lover stood on his right, and,

commanding silence, made the following speech, which was translated

by the missionary:-

“Young friend, you have seen few years, but your head is old. Your

heart also is large and very brave. I and Avatea are your debtors,

and we wish, in the midst of this assembly, to acknowledge our

debt, and to say that it is one which we can never repay. You have

risked your life for one who was known to you only for a few days.

But she was a woman in distress, and that was enough to secure to

her the aid of a Christian man. We, who live in these islands of

the sea, know that the true Christians always act thus. Their

religion is one of love and kindness. We thank God that so many

Christians have been sent here - we hope many more will come.

Remember that I and Avatea will think of you and pray for you and

your brave comrades when you are far away.”

To this kind speech Jack returned a short sailor-like reply, in

which he insisted that he had only done for Avatea what he would

have done for any woman under the sun. But Jack’s forte did not

lie in speech-making, so he terminated rather abruptly by seizing

the chief’s hand and shaking it violently, after which he made a

hasty retreat.

“Now, then, Ralph and Peterkin,” said Jack, as we mingled with the

crowd, “it seems to me that the object we came here for having been

satisfactorily accomplished, we have nothing more to do but get

ready for sea as fast as we can, and hurrah for dear old England!”

“That’s my idea precisely,” said Peterkin, endeavouring to wink,

but he had wept so much of late, poor fellow, that he found it

difficult; “however, I’m not going away till I see these fellows

burn their gods.”

Peterkin had his wish, for, in a few minutes afterwards, fire was

put to the pile, the roaring flames ascended, and, amid the

acclamations of the assembled thousands, the false gods of Mango

were reduced to ashes!

CHAPTER XXXV.

Conclusion.

TO part is the lot of all mankind. The world is a scene of

constant leave-taking, and the hands that grasp in cordial greeting

to-day, are doomed ere long to unite for the last time, when the

quivering lips pronounce the word - “Farewell.” It is a sad

thought, but should we on that account exclude it from our minds?

May not a lesson worth learning be gathered in the contemplation of

it? May it not, perchance, teach us to devote our thoughts more

frequently and attentively to that land where we meet, but part no

more?

How many do we part from in this world with a light “Good-bye,”

whom we never see again! Often do I think, in my meditations on

this subject, that if we realized more fully the shortness of the

fleeting intercourse that we have in this world with many of our

fellow-men, we would try more earnestly to do them good, to give

them a friendly smile, as it were, in passing (for the longest

intercourse on earth is little more than a passing word and

glance), and show that we have sympathy with them in the short

quick struggle of life, by our kindly words and looks and action.

The time soon drew near when we were to quit the islands of the

South Seas; and, strange though it may appear, we felt deep regret

at parting with the natives of the island of Mango; for, after they

embraced the Christian faith, they sought, by showing us the utmost

kindness, to compensate for the harsh treatment we had experienced

at their hands; and we felt a growing affection for the native

teachers and the missionary, and especially for Avatea and her

husband.

Before leaving, we had many long and interesting conversations with

the missionary, in one of which he told us that he had been making

for the island of Raratonga when his native-built sloop was blown

out of its course, during a violent gale, and driven to this

island. At first the natives refused to listen to what he had to

say; but, after a week’s residence among them, Tararo came to him

and said that he wished to become a Christian, and would burn his

idols. He proved himself to be sincere, for, as we have seen, he

persuaded all his people to do likewise. I use the word persuaded

advisedly; for, like all the other Feejee chiefs, Tararo was a

despot and might have commanded obedience to his wishes; but he

entered so readily into the spirit of the new faith that he

perceived at once the impropriety of using constraint in the

propagation of it. He set the example, therefore; and that example

was followed by almost every man of the tribe.

During the short time that we remained at the island, repairing our

vessel and getting her ready for sea, the natives had commenced

building a large and commodious church, under the superintendence

of the missionary, and several rows of new cottages were marked

out; so that the place bid fair to become, in a few months, as

prosperous and beautiful as the Christian village at the other end

of the island.

After Avatea was married, she and her husband were sent away,

loaded with presents, chiefly of an edible nature. One of the

native teachers went with them, for the purpose of visiting still

more distant islands of the sea, and spreading, if possible, the

light of the glorious gospel there.

As the missionary intended to remain for several weeks longer, in

order to encourage and confirm his new converts, Jack and Peterkin

and I held a consultation in the cabin of our schooner, - which we

found just as we had left her, for everything that had been taken

out of her was restored. We now resolved to delay our departure no

longer. The desire to see our beloved native land was strong upon

us, and we could not wait.

Three natives volunteered to go with us to Tahiti, where we thought

it likely that we should be able to procure a sufficient crew of

sailors to man our vessel; so we accepted their offer gladly.

It was a bright clear morning when we hoisted the snow-white sails

of the pirate schooner and left the shores of Mango. The

missionary, and thousands of the natives, came down to bid us God-speed, and to see us sail away. As the vessel bent before a light

fair wind, we glided quickly over the lagoon under a cloud of

canvass.

Just as we passed through the channel in the reef the natives gave

us a loud cheer; and as the missionary waved his hat, while he

stood on a coral rock with his gray hairs floating in the wind, we

heard the single word “Farewell” borne faintly over the sea.

That night, as we sat on the taffrail, gazing out upon the wide sea

and up into the starry firmament, a thrill of joy, strangely mixed

with sadness, passed through our hearts, - for we were at length

“homeward bound,” and were gradually leaving far behind us the

beautiful, bright, green, coral islands of the Pacific Ocean.