Mr Seagrave was the first who awoke and rose from his bed on the
ensuing morning. He stepped out of the tent, and looked around him.
The sky was clear and brilliant. A light breeze ruffled o'er the
surface of the water, and the tiny waves rippled one after another upon
the white sand of the cove. To the left of the cove the land rose,
forming small hills, behind which appeared the continuation of the
cocoa-nut groves. To the right, a low ridge of coral rocks rose almost
as a wall from the sea, and joined the herbage and brushwood at about a
hundred paces, while the wreck of the Pacific, lying like some huge
stranded monster, formed the prominent feature in the landscape. The
sun was powerful where its beams could penetrate; but where Mr Seagrave
stood, the cocoa-nuts waved their feathery leaves to the wind, and
offered an impervious shade. A feeling of the extreme beauty of the
scene, subdued by the melancholy created by the sight of the wrecked
vessel, pervaded the mind of Mr Seagrave as he meditated over it.
"Yes," thought he, "if, tired with the world and its anxieties, I had
sought an abode of peace and beauty, it would have been on a spot like
this. How lovely is the scene!--what calm--what content--what a sweet
sadness does it create! How mercifully have we been preserved when all
hope appeared to be gone; and how bountifully have we been provided for,
now that we have been saved,--and yet I have dared to repine, when I
ought to be full of gratitude! May God forgive me! Wife, children, all
safe, nothing to regret but a few worldly goods and a seclusion from the
world for a time--yes, but for how long a time--What! rebellious
still!--for the time that it shall please God in his wisdom to ordain."
Mr Seagrave turned back to his tent. William, Tommy, and old Ready
still remained fast asleep. "Excellent old man!" thought Mr Seagrave.
"What a heart of oak is hid under that rugged bark!--Had it not been for
his devotion where might I and all those dear helpless creatures have
been now?"
The dogs, who had crept into the tent and laid themselves down upon the
mattresses by the side of William and Tommy, now fawned upon Mr
Seagrave. William woke up with their whining, and having received a
caution from his father not to wake Ready, he dressed himself and came
out.
"Had I not better call Juno, father?" said William; "I think I can,
without waking mamma, if she is asleep."
"Then do, if you can, my boy; and I will see what cooking utensils Ready
has brought on shore."
William soon returned to his father, stating that his mother was in a
sound sleep, and that Juno had got up without waking her or the two
children.
"Well, we'll see if we cannot get some breakfast ready for them,
William. Those dry cocoa-nut leaves will make an excellent fire."
"But, father, how are we to light the fire? we have no tinder-box or
matches."
"No; but there are other ways, William, although, in most of them,
tinder is necessary. The savages can produce fire by rubbing a soft
piece of wood against a hard one. But we have gunpowder; and we have
two ways of igniting gunpowder--one is by a flint and steel, and the
other is by collecting the sun's rays into one focus by a
magnifying-glass."
"But, father, when we have lighted the fire, what have we to cook? we
have no tea or coffee."
"No, I do not think we have," replied Mr Seagrave.
"But we have potatoes, father."
"Yes, William, but don't you think it would be better if we made our
breakfast off the cold beef and pork and ship's biscuit for once, and
not use the potatoes? we may want them all to plant, you know. But why
should we not go on board of the ship ourselves? you can pull an oar
pretty well, and we must all learn to work now, and not leave everything
for poor old Ready to do. Come, William."
Mr Seagrave then went down to the cove; the little boat was lying on
the beach, just lifted by the rippling waves; they pushed her off, and
got into her. "I know where the steward kept the tea and coffee,
father," said William, as they pulled on board; "mamma would like some
for breakfast, I'm sure, and I'll milk the goats for baby."
Although they were neither of them very handy at the oar, they were soon
alongside of the ship; and, having made the boat fast, they climbed on
board.
William first went down to the cabin for the tea and coffee, and then
left his father to collect other things while he went to milk the goats,
which he did in a tin pan. He then poured the milk into a bottle, which
he had washed out, that it might not be spilt, and went back to his
father.
"I have filled these two baskets full of a great many things, William,
which will be very acceptable to your mamma. What else shall we take?"
"Let us take the telescope, at all events, father; and let us take a
whole quantity of clothes--they will please mamma: the clean ones are
all in the drawers--we can bring them up in a sheet; and then, father,
let us bring some of the books on shore; and I'm sure mamma will long
for her Bible and prayer-book;--here they are."
"You are a good boy, William," replied Mr Seagrave. "I will now take
those things up to the boat, and then return for the rest."
In a short time everything was put into the boat, and they pulled on
shore again. They found Juno, who had been washing herself, waiting for
them at the cove, to assist to take up the things.
"Well, Juno, how do you find yourself this morning?"
"Quite well, massa," said Juno: and then pointing to the clear water,
she said, "Plenty fish here."
"Yes, if we only had lines," replied Mr Seagrave. "I think Ready has
both hooks and lines somewhere. Come, Juno, take up this bundle of
linen to your tent: we can manage all the rest."
When they arrived at the tent they found that every one was awake except
Ready, who appeared still to sleep very sound. Mrs Seagrave had passed
a very good night, and felt herself much refreshed. William made some
touch-paper, which he lighted with one of the glasses from the
telescope, and they soon had a good fire. Mr Seagrave went to the
beach, and procured three large stones to rest the saucepan on; and in
half an hour the water was boiling and the tea made.