Cuffy, startled by the energy with which it was said, jumped up and
said, "That's right!"--or something very like it--with his eyes.
"Yes, Cuffy, I'll make a raft, and you and I shall get on it, some day,
with a fair wind, and make for the island that we think we've seen so
often on the horizon."
He alluded here to a faint blue line which, on unusually fine and clear
days, he had distinguished on the horizon to the southward, and which,
from its always appearing on the same spot, he believed to be land of
some sort, although it looked nothing more than a low-lying cloud.
"So that's settled," continued Jarwin, getting up and walking smartly
back to his hut with the air of a man who has a purpose in view. "We
shall make use of the old raft, as far as it'll go. Luckily the sail is
left, as you and I know, Cuff, for it has been our blanket for many a
day, and when all's ready we shall go huntin', you and I, till we've got
together a stock of provisions, and then--up anchor and away! We can
only be drownded once, you know, and it's better that than stopping here
to die o' the blues. What think 'ee o' that, my doggie?"
Whatever the doggie thought of the idea, there can be no question what
he thought of the cheery vigorous tones of his master's voice, for he
gambolled wildly round, barked with vociferous delight, and wagged his
"spanker boom" to such an extent that Jarwin warned him to have a care
lest it should be carried away, an' go slap overboard.
In pursuance of the designs thus expressed, the sailor began the
construction of a raft without delay, and worked at it diligently the
remainder of that day. He found, on examination, that a considerable
portion of the old raft yet remained stranded on the beach, though all
the smaller spars of which it had been composed had been used for
firewood. With great difficulty he rolled these logs one by one into
the sea, and, getting astride of each, pushed them by means of a pole
towards a point of rocks, or natural jetty, alongside of which the water
was deep. Here he fastened them together by means of a piece of rope--
one of the old fastenings which remained to him, the others having been
used in the construction of the hut. The raft thus formed was, however,
much too small to weather a gale or float in a rough sea. In whatever
way he placed the spars the structure was too narrow for safety.
Seeing, therefore, that it was absolutely necessary to obtain more logs,
he set brain and hands to work without delay.
Many years before, he had seen an ancient stone hatchet in a museum, the
head of which was fastened to the haft by means of a powerful thong of
untanned hide. He resolved to make a hatchet of this sort. Long did he
search the beach for a suitable stone, but in vain. At last he found
one pretty nearly the proper shape, which he chipped and ground into the
rude form of an axe. It had no eye for the handle. To have made a hole
in it would have weakened the stone too much. He therefore cut a groove
in the side of the handle, placed the head of the stone into it, and
completed the fastening by tying it firmly with the tough fibrous roots
of a tree. It was strongly and neatly made, though clumsy in
appearance, but, do what he would, he could not put a sufficiently fine
edge on it, and although it chipped pretty well when applied to the
outside of a tree, it made very slow progress indeed as the cut
deepened, and the work became so toilsome at last that he almost gave it
up in despair. Suddenly it occurred to him that fire might be made use
of to facilitate the work. Selecting a tall cocoanut-tree, he piled dry
wood all round the foot of it. Before setting it on fire he dipped a
quantity of cocoanut fibre in the sea and tied a thick belt of this
round the tree just above the pile, so as to protect the upper parts of
the spar from the flames as much and as long as possible. This done, he
kindled the pile. A steady breeze fanned the flame into an intense
fire, which ere long dried up the belt of fibre and finally consumed it.
The fire was pretty well burnt out by that time, however, so that the
upper part of the stem had been effectually preserved. Removing the
ashes, he was rejoiced to find that the foot of the tree had been so
deeply burned that several inches of it were reduced to charcoal, which
his stone hatchet readily cut away, and the operation was so successful
that it only required a second fire to enable him to fell the tree.
This done, he measured it off in lengths. Under each point of
measurement he piled up dry wood--which consisted merely of broken
branches--with belts of wet fibre on each side of these piles. Then,
applying a light to the fires he reduced the parts to charcoal as
before, and completed the work with the hatchet. Thus, in the course of
a single day, he felled a tall tree and cut it up into six lengths,
which he rolled down to the sea and floated off to the end of the jetty.
Next day Jarwin rose with the sun, and began to make twine of twisted
cocoanut fibre--of which there was great abundance to be had everywhere.
When a sufficient quantity had been made he plaited the twine into
cords, and the cords into stout ropes, which, although not so neat as
regular ropes, were, nevertheless, sufficiently pliable and very strong.
Several days were spent over this somewhat tedious process; and we may
mention here, that in all these operations the busy seaman was greatly
assisted by his dog, who stuck close to him all the time, encouraging
him with looks and wags of approbation.
After the ropes were made, the raft was put together and firmly lashed.
There was a mast and yard in the centre of it, and also a hollow, formed
by the omission of a log, which was just large enough to permit of the
man and his dog lying down. This hollow, slight though it was,
afterwards proved of the utmost service.
It is needless to recount all the details of the building and
provisioning of this raft. Suffice it to say that, about three weeks
after the idea of it had been conceived, it was completed and ready for
sea.
During his residence on the island, although it had only extended over a
few months, Jarwin had become very expert in the use of a sharp-pointed
pole, or javelin, with which he had become quite an adept in spearing
fish. He had also become such a dead-shot with a stone that when he
managed to get within thirty yards of a bird, he was almost certain to
hit it. Thus he was enabled to procure fish and fowl as much as he
required and as the woods abounded with cocoa-nuts, plums, and other
wild fruits, besides many edible roots, he had no lack of good fare.
Now that he was about to "go to sea," he bethought him of drying some of
the fruits as well as curing some fish and birds. This he did by
degrees, while engaged on the raft, so that when all was ready he had a
store of provisions sufficient to last him several weeks. In order to
stow all this he removed another log from the middle of the raft, and,
having deposited the food in the hollow--carefully wrapped in cocoanut
leaves and made into compact bundles--he covered it over by laying a
layer of large leaves above it and lashing a small spar on the top of
them to keep them down. The cask with which he had landed from the
original raft, and which he had preserved with great care, not knowing
how soon he might be in circumstances to require it, served to hold
fresh water.
On a fine morning about sunrise, Jarwin embarked with his little dog and
bade farewell to the coral island, and although he had not dwelt very
long there, he felt, to his own surprise, much regret at quitting it.
A fresh breeze was blowing in the direction of the island--or the
supposed island--he wished to reach. This was important, because, in
such a craft, it was impossible to sail in any way except before the
wind. Still, by means of a rude oar or paddle, he could modify its
direction so as to steer clear of the passage through the reef and get
out to sea.
Once outside, he squared the sail and ran right before the breeze. Of
course such a weighty craft went very slowly through the water, but the
wind was pretty strong, and to Jarwin, who had been for a comparatively
long time unaccustomed to moving on the water, the speed seemed fast
enough. As the island went astern, and the raft lifted and fell gently
on the long swell of the ocean, the seaman's heart beat with a peculiar
joy to which it had long been a stranger, and he thanked God fervently
for having so soon answered his prayer.
For a long time he sat reclining in the hollow of the raft, resting his
hand lightly on the steering oar and gazing in silence at the gradually
fading woods of his late home. The dog, as if it were aware that a
great change was being effected in their destiny, lay also perfectly
still--and apparently contemplative--at his master's feet; resting his
chin on a log and gazing at the receding land. It was evident, however,
that _his_ thoughts were not absent or wandering, for, on the slightest
motion made by his master, his dark eyes turned towards him, his ears
slightly rose, and his tail gave the faintest possible indication of an
intention to wag.
"Well, Cuffy," said Jarwin at last, rousing himself with a sigh, "wot
are 'ee thinking of?"
The dog instantly rose, made affectionate demonstrations, and whined.
"Ah, you may well say that, Cuff," replied the man; "I know you ain't
easy in yer mind, and there's some reason in that, too, for we're off on
a raither uncertain viage, in a somewhat unseaworthy craft. Howsever,
cheer up, doggie. Whoever turns up, you and I shall sink or swim
together."
Just then the sail flapped.
"Hallo! Cuff," exclaimed Jarwin, with a look of anxiety, "the wind's
going to shift."
This was true. The wind did shift, and in a few minutes had veered so
much round that the raft was carried away from the blue line on the
horizon, which Jarwin had so fondly hoped would turn out to be an
inhabited island. It blew lightly, however, and when the sun went down,
had completely died away. In these circumstances Jarwin and his dog
supped together, and then lay down to rest, full of sanguine hope.
They were awakened during the night by a violent squall, which, however,
did no further damage than wash a little spray over them, for Jarwin had
taken the precaution to lower and make fast the sail. He now turned his
attention to preparing the raft for rough weather. This consisted in
simply drawing over the hollow--in which he, his dog, and his provisions
lay--a piece of canvas that he had cut off the sail, which was
unnecessarily large. It served as a tarpaulin, and effectually shielded
them from ordinary sprays, but when the breeze freshened to a gale, and
green seas swept over the _raft_, it leaked so badly, that Jarwin's
cabin became a salt-water bath, and his provisions by degrees were
soaked.
At first he did not mind this much, for the air and water were
sufficiently warm, but after being wet for several hours he began feel
chilled. As for poor Cuffy, his trembling body bore testimony to the
state of his feelings; nevertheless he did not complain, being a dog of
high spirit and endurance. In these circumstances the seaman hailed the
rising sun with great joy, even although it rose in the midst of lurid
murky clouds, and very soon hid its face altogether behind them, as if
it had made up its mind that the state of things below was so bad as to
be not worth shining upon.
All that day and night the gale continued, and they were driven before
it. The waves rushed so continuously and furiously over the raft, that
it was with the utmost difficulty Jarwin could retain his position on
it. Indeed it would have been impossible for him to have done so, if he
had not taken the precaution of making the hollow in the centre, into
which he could crouch, and thus avoid the full force of the seas. Next
day the wind abated a little, but the sea still rolled "mountains high."
In order to break their force a little, he ventured to show a little
corner of the sail. Small though it was, it almost carried away the
slender mast, and drove the raft along at a wonderfully rapid rate.
At last the gale went down, and, finally, it became a dead calm, leaving
the raft like a cork heaving on the mighty swell of the Pacific Ocean.
Weary and worn--almost dead with watching and exposure--John Jarwin lay
down and slept, but his slumber was uneasy and unrefreshing. Sunrise
awoke him, and he sat up with a feeling of deep thankfulness, as he
basked once more in its warm rays and observed that the sky above him
was bright blue. But other feelings mingled with these when he gazed
round on the wide waste of water, which still heaved its swelling though
now unruffled breast, as if panting after its recent burst of fury.
"Ho! Cuffy--what's that? Not a sail, eh?" exclaimed Jarwin, suddenly
starting up, while his languid eyes kindled with excitement.
He was right. After a long, earnest, anxious gaze, he came to the
conclusion that it _was_ a sail which shone, white and conspicuous, like
a speck or a snow-flake on the horizon.