There was one thing which had made a great impression on me in the
conversation with the men in the morning. They called me a Savage, and
said that I had not sufficient clothes on; and as I observed that they
were all dressed in jackets and trousers, which covered them from head
to foot, I took it for granted that my shirt, which was all that I
wore, was not a sufficient clothing. This had never occurred to me
before, nor can the reader be surprised at it. I had been like our
first parents in Eden--naked but not ashamed--but now that I had
suddenly come in contact with my fellow-men, I felt as if something
were amiss. The consequence was, that I went to the chest and got out a
pair of white trousers, and put them on. I thought them very
uncomfortable and very unnecessary articles, but others wore them, and
I felt that I must do so also. They were rather long for me, but I
rolled up the bottoms of the legs, as I observed that the seamen did,
and then came out on the platform, where the missionary's wife was
still seated, looking out upon the waves as they lashed the rocks. She
immediately observed the addition that I had made to my dress, and said,
"That is a great improvement. Now you look like other people. What is
your name? you have not told me."
When I had answered the question, I said to her--
"I have brought up more of the potatoes, as you call them; what am I to
do with them?"
"First tell me, have you any spot that you know about the island where
there is mould--that is, earth, like you have in your garden--where we
can plant them?"
"Yes," replied I, "there is some up there," and I pointed to one-third
up the ravine. "I brought all this earth from there, and there is
plenty of it; but what is the good of planting them?"
"Because," said she, "one of the potatoes planted will, in a very short
time, grow, and then it will produce perhaps thirty or forty potatoes
at its roots as large as these; they are excellent things for food, and
where there is nothing else to be had, may be the means of preserving
life."
"Well, that may be," replied I, "and if we were going to remain on the
island, it would be well to plant them, but as we are going away the
day after to-morrow, what's the use of it? I know that they are very
nice, for I had some for supper last night."
"But are we only to think of ourselves in this world, and not of
others?" replied she. "Suppose, two or three years hence, another boat
were to be cast away on this island, and not find, as we have, you
here, with provisions ready for them, they would starve miserably;
whereas, if we plant these potatoes, they may find plenty of food and
be saved. Only think how glad your father and mother would have been to
have found potatoes on the island when they were thrown on it. We must
not live only for ourselves, but we must think and try to do good to
others--that is the duty of a Christian."
"I think you are very right," replied I, "and a very kind person too.
If you wish it I will go and plant the potatoes this day. How am I to
plant them?"
"They have a shovel in the boat," said she, "for I saw them throwing
the water out with it. Go down and get it, and then I will go with you
and show you."
I went down and the mate gave me the shovel, which I carried up to her.
I found her cutting the potatoes into pieces, and she showed me how she
cut them, leaving an eye in each piece, and explained the reason for
it. I was soon very busy cutting away alongside of her, and before long
the pail of potatoes was all ready to be planted.
We then walked to the ravine, and she showed me how to use the shovel,
and I made the holes. Before noon we had planted all that we had cut,
but we had still the two handkerchiefs full that we had at first
brought up with us. We returned to the cabin, and I prepared the fish
for dinner. After it was on the embers, she wished to have the screen
put up beside her bed-place.
"Go down to the mate," said she, "and ask him for the hammer and three
or four nails. I know they have them in the boat."
"I may as well take them down some birds for their dinner," replied I,
"for they will want them."
"Yes, do so; and then come back to me as soon as you can."
The mate gave me the hammer, an article I had never seen before, and
five or six nails, with which I returned to the cabin, and nailed up
the sail as a screen.
"Now you will be able to sleep in your own bed-place to-night," said
she.
I made no reply, but I could not imagine why I could not have done so
the night before, for I had only gone out of the cabin that she might
not be frightened by Nero being so close to her.
After we had eaten our dinner, she said to me--
"How could you contrive to live on this island, if you had no dried
birds?"
"How?" replied I; "why, very badly. I might catch fish; but there are
times in the year when you can catch no fish, they won't take bait,
neither will they when the weather is rough. Besides, I have only two
lines, and I might lose them both--then what would become of me? I
should starve."
"Well, then, you see under all circumstances, it was just as well to
plant the potatoes, for other people may come here and be in your
position."
"Yes, that is true, but we shall not be here long now, and you don't
know how glad I am to go. I want to see all the things that I have read
about in my books. I want to go to England and look for somebody; but
you don't know all that I know; some day I will tell you
all--everything. I am so tired of living here by myself--nothing to
say--no one to talk to--no one to care for, except Nero, and he can't
speak. I can't bear the idea of parting with him though."
"Would you rather stay on the island with Nero, than go away without
him?"
"No," replied I; "go I must, but still I do not like to part with him.
He is the only friend that I ever had, that I can remember."
"When you have lived longer, and mixed more with the world, my poor
boy, you will then find how many sacrifices you will be obliged to
make, much more serious than parting with an animal that you are
attached to. I suppose you expect to be very happy if ever you get back
to England?"
"Of course I do; why should I not be?" replied I; "I shall be always
happy."
The Missionary's wife shook her head. "I fear not. Indeed, I think if
you live long enough, you will acknowledge that the happiest of your
days were passed on this barren rock."
"Jackson said otherwise," replied I. "He was always grieving at being
on the island, and not able to get back to England, and he told me so
many stories about England, and what is done there, and what a
beautiful place it is, that I'm sure I shall like it better than being
here, even if I had somebody with me."
"Well, you are in the hands of God, and you must put your trust in him.
He will do with you as he thinks best for you--that you know, as you
read your Bible."
"No, I didn't know that," replied I. "God lives beyond the stars, a
long way off."
"Is that all you have gained by reading your Bible?" inquired she,
looking me in the face.
"No, not all," replied I; "but I do not understand a great deal that I
read, I want some one to tell me. I am so glad you came with the men in
the boat, for I never saw a woman before. I used to see somebody in my
dreams, and now I know it was a woman. It was my mother, but I have not
seen her for a long while now, and I have nobody but Nero."
"My poor boy, you have a father in heaven."
"Yes," replied I; "I know he is in heaven, and so is my mother, for
Jackson said that they were both very good."
"I mean your Heavenly Father, God. Do you not say in the Lord's Prayer,
'Our Father which art in heaven.' You must love him."
I was about to reply, when John Gough, the mate, came up, and told my
companion that he had been speaking to the men, and they had agreed
that the day after the next they would, if the weather permitted, leave
the island; that they had examined the boat, and found it required very
little repair, and that all would be ready the next day.
"I hope that they will not overload the boat," said she.
"I fear that they will, but I must do all I can to prevent it. The cask
of rum was rather an unfortunate discovery, and we had been better
without it. Leave it they will not, so we must put out of the boat all
that we can possibly do without, for we shall be nine of us, and that
will be plenty of weight with the addition of the cask."
"You promised to take my chest, you remember," said I.
"Yes, I will do so if I possibly can; but recollect, I may not be able
to keep my promise--for now that they have the liquor, the men do not
obey me as they did before, ma'am," said the mate. "Perhaps he had
better take the best of his clothes in a bundle, in case they should
refuse to take in the chest; and I must say that, loaded as the boat
will be, they will be much to blame if they do not refuse, for the boat
is but small for stowage, and there's all the provisions to put in her,
which will take up a deal of room."
"That is very true," replied the woman. "It will be better to leave the
chest here, for I do not think that the boat will hold it. You must not
mind your chest, my good boy; it is of no great value."
"They take my rum and all my birds, and they ought to take both me and
my chest."
"Not if it takes up too much room," replied the woman. "You cannot
expect it. The wishes of one person must give way to the wishes of
many."
"Why they would have starved if it had not been for me," replied I,
angrily.
"That's very true, boy," replied the mate; "but you have to learn yet,
that might is right; and recollect that what you did this morning has
not made you any great favourite with them."
"What was that?" inquired my companion.
"Only that he nearly drove his knife through one of the men, that's
all," replied the mate; "English sailors ar'n't fond of knives."
He then touched his hat, and went down again to the pool, desiring me
to follow him with a kid for our share of the supper. I did so, and on
my return she asked me why I had drawn my knife upon the seaman, and I
narrated how it occurred. She pointed out to me the impropriety of what
I had done, asking me whether the Bible did not tell us we were to
forgive injuries.
"Yes," replied I; "but is it not injuries to ourselves? I did forgive
Jackson; but this was to prevent his hurting another."
"Another! why you talk of Nero as if the animal was a rational being,
and his life of as much consequence as that of a fellow-creature. I do
not mean to say but that the man was very wrong, and that you must have
felt angry if an animal you were so fond of had been killed; but there
is a great difference between the life of an animal and that of a
fellow-creature. The animal dies, and there is an end of it; but a man
has an immortal soul, which never perishes, and nothing can excuse your
taking the life of a man, except in self-defence. Does not the
commandment say, 'Thou shalt not kill?'"
She then talked to me a long while upon the subject, and fully made me
understand that I had been very wrong, and I confessed that I had been
so.