EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND TWELVE--THE MARY--COUNT UGOLINO--THE
SOURCES OF RIVERS--THE ALPS DEMOLISHED--NO MORE PYRENEES--THE
FIRST SHIP--ADMIRAL NOAH--FLEETS OF THE ISRAELITES--THE
COMPASS--PRINTING--GUNPOWDER--ACTIUM AND SALAMIS--DIDO AND
AENEAS--STEAM--DON GARAY AND ROGER BACON--MELCHTHAL, FURST, AND
WILLIAM TELL--GOING A-PLEASURING--UPSET VERSUS BLOWN UP--A DEAD
CALM--THE LOG--WILLIS'S ARCHIPELAGO--THE ISLAND OF SOPHIA--THE BREAD
FRUIT-TREE--NATIVES OF POLYNESIA--STRIPED TROWSERS--ABDUCTION OF
WILLIS--IS HE TO BE ROASTED OR BOILED?--WHEN THE WINE IS POURED OUT,
WE MUST DRINK IT.
At the date of the events narrated in the preceeding chapter,
comparatively little was known of Oceania, that is, of the islands and
continents that are scattered about the Pacific Ocean. Most of them
had been discovered, named, and marked correctly enough in the charts,
but beyond this all was supposition, hypothesis, and mystery. The
mighty empire of England in the east was then only in its infancy,
Sutteeism and Thuggism were still rampant on the banks of the Ganges,
but the power of the descendants of the Great Mogul was on the wane.
California was only known as the hunting-ground of a savage race of
wild Indians. The now rich and flourishing colonies of Australia were
represented by the convict settlement of Sydney. The Dutch had
asserted that the territory of New Holland was utterly uninhabitable,
and this was still the belief of the civilized world; nor was it
without considerable opposition on the part of _soi-disant_
philanthropists that the English government succeeded in establishing
a prison depot on what at the time was considered the sole spot in
that vast territory susceptible of cultivation. At the present time,
these formerly-despised regions send _one hundred tons of pure gold_
to England. The political state of Europe itself had at this time
assumed a singular aspect. Napoleon had made himself master of nearly
all the continental states; Spain, Portugal, Belgium, Holland, and a
part of Germany were at his feet; and, by the Peace of Tilsit, he had
secured the coõperation of Alexander, Emperor of Russia, in his
schemes to ruin the trade and commerce of Great Britain. England, by
her opportune seizure of the Danish fleet, broke up the first great
northern confederacy that was formed against her. This act, though
much impugned by the politicians of the day, is now known not only to
have been perfectly justifiable, but also highly creditable to the
political foresight of Canning and Castlereagh, by whom it was
suggested, to say nothing of the daring and boldness that Nelson
displayed in executing the manoeuvre. When news of this event reached
the Russian Emperor it threw him into a paroxysm of rage, and he
declared war against England in violent language. He had the insolence
to make peace with France the _sina qua non_ of his friendship. At the
distance of nearly half a century, the actual language employed has a
peculiar flavor. The emperor, after detailing his grievances, declares
that henceforth there shall be no connection between the two
countries, and calls on his Britannic Majesty to dismiss his
ministers, and conclude a peace forthwith. The British Government
replied to this by ordering Nelson to set sail forthwith for the mouth
of the Neva. A bitter and scorching manifesto was at the time
forwarded to the emperor. It accused him flatly of duplicity, and
boldly defied him and all his legions. The whole document is well
worthy of perusal in these lackadaisical times. It is dated
Westminister, December 18, 1807. It sets forth anew the principles of
maritime war, which England had then rigidly in force. Napoleon had
declared the whole of the British Islands in a state of blockade. The
British Government replied by blockading _de facto_ the whole of
Europe. This was done by those celebrated orders in council, which,
more than anything else, precipitated the downfall of Napoleon. They
threw the trade of the world into the hands of England. Of course,
Russia was deeply affected, so was Spain and all the other maritime
states; and they were all, one way or another, in open hostility with
this country. But England laughed all their threats to scorn; and in
the whole history of the country, there was not a more brilliant
period in her eventful history. She stood alone against the world in
arms. Even the blusterings of the United States were unheeded, and in
no degree disturbed her stern equanimity. She saw the road to victory,
and resolved to pursue it. But England then had great statesmen, and,
of them all, Lord Castlereagh was the greatest, although he served a
Prince Regent who cared no more for England or the English people,
than the Irish member, who, when reproached for selling his country,
thanked God that he had a country to sell.
At length the ill-will of the Americans resolved itself into open
warfare, and the United States was numbered with the overt enemies of
England. This resulted in British troops marching up to Washington and
burning the Capitol, or Congress House, about the ears of the members
who had stirred up the strife. Meanwhile, all the islands of France in
the east and west had been taken possession of; the British flag waved
on the Spanish island of Cuba, and in the no less valuable possessions
of Holland, in Java. Everywhere on the ocean England held undisputed
sway. This state of things gave rise to one great evil--the sea
swarmed with cruisers and privateers, English, French, and American;
so that no vessel, unless sailing under convoy, heavily armed, or a
very swift sailer, but ran risk of capture.
The _Mary_--for so Fritz now called the pinnace--had been ten days at
sea, the wind had died away, and for some time scarcely a zephyr had
ruffled the surface of the water, the sails were lazily flapping
against the mast, and but for the currents, the voyagers would have
been almost stationary. It may readily be supposed that, under such
circumstances, their progress was somewhat slow, and, as Jack
observed, to judge from their actual rate of sailing, they ought to
have started when very young, in order to arrive at the termination of
the voyage before they became bald-headed old men.
They prayed for a breeze, a gale, or even a storm; their fresh water
was beginning to get sour, and they reflected that, if the calm
continued any length of time, their provisions would eventually run
short, and the ordinary resource of eating one another would stare
them in the face. Jack, being the youngest, would probably disappear
first, next Fritz, then Willis would be left to eat himself, in order
to avoid dying of hunger, just as the unfortunate Count Ugolino
devoured his own children to save them from orphanage.
As yet, however, there were no symptoms of such a dire disaster; they
were in excellent health and tolerable spirits; they had provisions
enough to last them for six months at least, and consequently had not
as yet, at all events, the slightest occasion to manifest a tendency
to anthropophagism.
"I can understand the sea," remarked Jack, "as I understand the land
and the sky; God created them, that is enough; but I cannot understand
how a mighty river like the Nile or the Ganges can continue eternally
discharging immense deluges of water into the sea without becoming
exhausted. From what fathomless reservoirs do the Amazon and the
Mississippi receive their endless torrents?"
"The reservoirs of the greatest rivers," replied Fritz, "are nothing
more than drops of water that fall from the crevice of some rock on or
near the summit of a hill; these are collected together in a pool or
hollow, from which they issue in the form of a slender rivulet. At
first, the smallest pebble is sufficient to arrest the course of this
thread of water; but it turns upon itself, gathers strength, finally
surmounts the obstacle, dashes over it, unites itself with other
rivulets, reaches the plain, scoops out a bed, and goes on, as you
say, for ever emptying its waters into the sea."
"Yes; but it is the source of these sources that I want to know the
origin of. You speak of hills, whilst we know that water naturally, by
reason of its weight and fluidity; seeks to secrete itself in the
lowest beds of the earth."
"It is scarcely necessary for me to observe that water may come down
a hill, although it never goes up. Rain, snow, dew, and generally all
the vapors that fall from the atmosphere, furnish the enormous masses
of water that are constantly flowing into the sea. The vapor alone
that is absorbed in the air from the sea is more than sufficient to
feed all the rivers on the face of the earth. Mountains, by their
formation, arrest these vapors, collect them in a hole here and in a
cavern there, and permit them to filter by a million of threads from
rock to rock, fertilizing the land and nourishing the rivers that
intersect it. If, therefore, you were to suppress the Alps that rise
between France and Italy, you would, at the same time, extinguish the
Rhone and the Po."
"It would be a pity to do that," said Jack; "there was a time though
when there were no Pyrenees."
"That must have been, then, at a period prior to the formation of
granite, which is esteemed the oldest of rocks."
"No such thing," insisted Jack; "it was so late as 1713, when, by the
peace of Utrecht, the crown of Spain was secured to the Duke of Anjou,
grandson of Louis XIV."
"Howsomever," remarked Willis, "all the mariners in the French fleet
could not convince me that the Pyrenean mountains are only a hundred
years old."
"My brother is only speaking metaphorically," said Fritz; "when the
crown of Spain was assigned to the Duke of Anjou, his grandfather
said--_Qu il n'y avait plus de Pyrénées_. He meant by that simply,
that France and Spain being governed by the same prince, the moral
barrier between them existed no longer. The formidable mountains still
stood for all that, and he who removes them would certainly be
possessed of extraordinary power."
"I am always putting my foot in it," said Willis, "when the yarn is
about the land; let us talk of the sea for a bit. Who built the first
ship?"
"Well," replied Fritz, "I should say that the first ship was the ark."
"Whence we may infer," added Jack, "that Noah was the first admiral."
"We learn from the Scriptures," continued Fritz, "that the first
navigators were the children of Noah, and it appears from profane
history that the earliest attempts at navigation were manifested near
where the ark rested; consequently, we may fairly presume that the art
of ship-building arose from the traditions of the deluge and the ark."
"In that case, the art in question dates very far back."
"Yes, since it dates from 2348 years before the birth of Christ; but
the human race degenerated, the traditions were forgotten, and
navigation was confined to planks, rafts, bark canoes, or the trunk of
a tree hollowed out by fire."
"That is the sort of craft used by the inhabitants of Polynesia at the
present day," remarked Willis.
"It appears, however, by the Book of Job, that pirates existed in
those days, and that they went to sea in ships and captured
merchantmen, which proves, to a certain extent, that there were
merchantmen to conquer. We know also that David and Solomon equipped
large fleets, and even fought battles on sea."
"Whether an ancient or modern, a Jew or a Gentile," said Willis, "he
must have been a brave fellow who launched the first ship, and risked
himself and his goods at sea in it."
"True," continued Fritz; "but when once the equilibrium of a floating
body was known, there would be no longer any risk; as soon as it came
to be understood that any solid body would float if it were lighter
than its bulk of water, the matter was simple enough."
"Very good," interrupted Jack; "but the words 'when' and 'as soon as'
imply a great deal; _when_, or _as soon as_, we know anything, the
mystery of course disappears. But before! there is the difficulty.
Particles of water do not cohere--how is it, then, that a ship of war,
that often weighs two millions of pounds, does not sink through them,
and go to the bottom? Individuals, like myself for example, who are
not members of a learned society, may be pardoned for not knowing how
water bears the weight of a seventy-four."
"The seventy-four would, most undoubtedly, sink if it were heavier
than the weight of water it displaced; but this is not the case; wood
is generally lighter than water."
"The wood, yes; but the cannon, the cargo, and the crew?"
"You forget the cabooses, the cockpits, and the cabins, that do not
weigh anything. Allowing for everything, the weight of a ship, cargo
and all, is much lighter than its bulk of water, and consequently it
cannot sink."
"But how is it, then, that the immense bulk of a seventy-four moves so
easily in the water? One would think that its prodigious weight would
make it stick fast, and continue immoveable."
"When the seventy-four in question has displaced its weight of water,
its own weight is substituted for the water, and is in consequence
virtually annihilated; it does not, in point of fact, weigh anything
at all, and therefore is easily impelled by the wind."
"When there is any, understood," added Jack.
"And a yard or so of canvas," suggested Willis.
"True," continued Fritz, "a sail or two would be very desirable; these
instruments of propulsion do not appear, however, to have been used by
the ancients. We first hear of a sail being employed at the time when
Isis went in search of her husband Osiris, who was killed by his
brother Typhon, and whose quarters were scattered in the Nile. This
lady, it seems, took off the veil that covered her head, and fastened
it to an upright shaft stuck in the middle of the boat, and, much to
her astonishment, it impelled her onwards at a marvellous speed."
"A clever young woman that," said Willis; "but I doubt whether veils
would answer the purpose on board a seventy-four, particularly as
regards the mainsail and mizentops."
"The Phoenicians were the most enterprising of the early navigators.
They appeared to have sailed round Africa without a compass, for they
embarked on the Red Sea and reappeared at the mouth of the Nile, and
the compass was not invented till the fourteenth century."
"And who was the inventor of the compass?" inquired Willis.
"According to some authorities, it was invented by a Neapolitan named
Jean Goya; according to others, the inventor was a certain Hugues de
Bercy."
"Then," said Jack, "you do not admit the claims of the Chinese and
Hindoos, who assert priority in the discovery?"
"I neither deny nor admit their claims, because I do not know the
grounds upon which they are founded; like the invention of gunpowder
and printing, the discovery of the compass has many rival claimants."
"I am of opinion," said Jack, "that Guttenberg is entitled to the
honor of discovering printing, and that Berthold Schwartz invented
gunpowder."
"Perhaps you are right; but there is scarcely any invention of
importance that has not two or three names fastened to it as
inventors; they stick to it like barnacles, and there is no way to
shake any of them off. So, in the case of illustrious men, nations
dispute the honor of giving them birth; there are six or seven towns
in Asia Minor that claim to be the birth-place of Homer. National
vanities justly desire to possess the largest amount of genius; hence,
no sooner does anything useful make its appearance in the world, than
half a dozen nations or individuals start up to claim it as their
offspring. The wisest course, under such circumstances, is to side
with the best accredited opinion, which I have done in the case of the
compass."
"It was no joke," said Willis, "to circumnavigate Africa without a
compass."
"You are quite right, Willis, if you judge the navigation of those
days by the modern standard; but it is to be borne in mind that the
ancients never lost sight of the coast. They steered from cape to
promontory, and from promontory to cape, dropping their anchor every
night and remaining well in-shore till morning. If by accident they
were driven out into the open sea, and the stars happened to be hidden
by fog or clouds, they were lost beyond recovery, even though within a
day's sail of a harbor; because, whilst supposing they were making for
the coast, they might, in all probability, be steering in precisely
the opposite direction."
"It is certainly marvellous," said Jack, "that a piece of iron stuck
upon a board should be a safe and sure guide to the mariner through
the trackless ocean, even when the stars are enveloped in obscurity
and darkness!"
"It is a symbol of faith," remarked Willis, "that supplies the doubts
and incertitudes of reason."
"As for the ships, or rather galleys, of the ancients," continued
Fritz, "with the exception of the ambitious fleets of the Greeks and
Romans that fought at Salamis and Actium, one of the modern ships of
war could sweep them all out of the sea with its rudder."
"Yes," said Jack, "at the period of which you speak, the ancients
possessed a great advantage over us. The winds in those days were
personages, and were very well known; they were called Aeolus, Boreas,
and so forth. They were to be found in caves or islands, and, if
treated with civility, were remarkably condescending. Queen Dido,
through one of these potentates, obtained contrary winds, to prevent
Aeneas from leaving her."
"By the way," said Willis, "there is, or at least was, in one of the
Scottish rivers, a ship without either oars or sails."
"Yes, very likely; but it did not move."
"It did though, and, what is more, against both wind and tide."
"I wish we had your wonderful ship here just now, it is just the thing
to suit us under present circumstances," said Jack.
"So it would, Master Jack, for it sails against currents, up rivers,
and the crew care no more about the wind than I do about the color of
the clouds when I am lighting my pipe."
"You don't happen to mean that the _Flying Dutchman_ has appeared on
the Scotch coast, do you, Willis?"
"Not a bit of it, I mean just exactly what I say. It is a real ship,
with a real stern and a real figure-head, but manned by blacksmiths
instead of mariners."
"Well, but how does it move? Does somebody go behind and push it, or
is it dragged in front by sea-horses and water-kelpies?"
"No, it moves by steam."
"But how?"
"Aye, there lies the mystery. The affair has often been discussed by
us sailors on board ship; some have suggested one way and some
another."
"Neither of which throws much light on the subject," observed Jack;
"at least, in so far as we are concerned."
"All I can tell you," said Willis, "is, that the steam is obtained by
boiling water in a large cauldron, and that the power so obtained is
very powerful."
"That it certainly is, if it could be controlled, for steam occupies
seventeen or eighteen hundred times the space of the water in its
liquid state; but then, if the vessel that contains the boiling water
has no outlet, the steam will burst it."
"It appears that it can be prevented doing that, though," replied
Willis, "even though additional heat be applied to the vapor itself."
"By heating the steam, the vapor may acquire a volume forty thousand
times greater than that of the water; all that is well known; but as
soon as it comes in contact with the air, nothing is left of it but a
cloud, which collapses again into a few drops of water."
"That may be all very true, Master Fritz, if the steam were allowed to
escape into the air; but it is only permitted to do that after it has
done duty on board ship. It appears that steam is very elastic, and
may be compressed like India-rubber, but has a tendency to resist the
pressure and set itself free. Imagine, for example, a headstrong young
man, for a long time kept in restraint by parental control, suddenly
let loose, and allowed scope to follow the bent of his own
inclinations."
"Very good, Willis; for argument's sake, let us take your headstrong
young man, or rather the steam, for granted, and let us admit that it
is as elastic as ever you please--but what then?"
"Then you must imagine a piston in a cylinder, forced upwards when
the steam is heated, and falling downwards when the steam is cooled.
Next fancy this upward and downward motion regulated by a number of
wheels and cranks that turn two wheels on each side of the ship,
keeping up a constant jangling and clanking, the wheels or paddles
splashing in the water, and then you may form a slight idea of the
thing."
"Oh!" cried Jack, "we invented a machine of that kind for our canoe,
with a turnspit. Do you recollect it, Fritz?"
"Yes, I recollect it well enough; and I also recollect that the canoe
went much better without than with it."
"You spoke just now," continued Willis, "of rival nations, who pounce
like birds of prey upon every new invention; and so it is with the
steamship. An American, named Fulton, made a trial in the Hudson with
one in 1807--that is about five years ago--and I believe the Yankees,
in consequence, are laying claim to the invention."
"Now that you bring the thing to my recollection," said Fritz, "the
idea of applying steam in the arts is by no means new, although, I
must candidly admit, I never heard of it being used in propelling
ships before. The Spaniards assert that a captain of one of their
vessels, named Don Blas de Garay, discovered, as early as the
sixteenth century, the art of making steam a motive power."
"I don't believe that," said Jack.
"Why?"
"Because a real Spaniard has never less than thirty-six words in his
name. If you had said that the steam engine was discovered by Don
Pedrillo y Alvares y Toledo y Concha y Alonzo y Martinez y Xacarillo,
or something of that sort, then I could believe the man to have been a
genuine Spaniard, but not otherwise."
"Spaniard or no Spaniard, the Spanish claim the discovery of steam
through Don Blas; the Italians likewise claim the discovery for a
mechanician, named Bianca; the Germans assign its discovery to
Solomon de Causs; the French urge Denis Papin; and the English claim
the invention for Roger Bacon."
"You have forgotten the Swiss," said Jack.
"The Swiss," replied Fritz, with an air of dignity, "put forward no
candidate: steam and vapor and smoke are not much in their line. They
discovered something infinitely better--the world is indebted to them
for the invention of liberty. I mean rational, intelligent, and true
liberty--not the savagery and mob tyranny of red republicanism. The
three discoverers of this noble invention were Melchthal, Furst, and
William Tell."
"You can have no idea," continued Willis, "of the stir that steam was
creating in Europe the last time I was there. Of course there were
plenty of incredulous people who said that it was no good; that it
would never be of any use; and that if it were, it would not pay for
the fuel consumed. On the other hand, the enthusiasts held that,
eventually, it would be used for everything; that in the air we should
have steam balloons; on the sea, steam ships, steam guns, and perhaps
steam men to work them; that on land there would be steam coaches
driven by steam horses. Journeys, say they, will be performed in no
time, that is, as soon as you start for a place you arrive at it, just
like an arrow, that no sooner leaves the bow than you see it stuck in
the bull's eye."
"In that case," observed Jack, "it will be necessary to do away with
respiration, as well as horses."
"A Londoner will be able to say to his wife, My dear, I am going to
Birmingham to-day, but I will be back to dinner; and if a Parisian
lights his cigar at Paris, it will burn till he arrives at Bordeaux."
"Holloa, Willis, you have fairly converted Fritz and me into marines
at last."
"I am only speaking of what will be, not of what is--that makes all
the difference you know. It is expected that there will be steam
coaches on every turnpike-road; so that, instead of hiring a
post-chaise, you will have to order a locomotive, and instead of
postboys, you will to engage an engineer and stoker."
"Then, instead of saying, Put the horses to," remarked Jack, "we
shall have to say, Get the steam up."
"Exactly; and when you go on a pleasure excursion, you will be whisked
from one point to another without having time to see whether you pass
through a desert or a flower-garden."
"What, then, is to become of adventures by the way, road-side inns,
and banditti?"
"All to be suppressed."
"So it appears," said Jack; "men are to be carried about from place to
place like flocks of sheep; perhaps they will invent steam dogs as
well to run after stragglers, and bring them into the fold by the calf
of the leg. Your new mode of going a-pleasuring may be a very
excellent thing in its way, Willis; but it would not suit my taste."
"Probably not; nor mine either, for the matter of that, Master Jack."
"At all events," said Fritz, "you would run no danger of being upset
on the road."
"No; but, by way of compensation, you may be blown up."
"True, I forgot that."
"This conversation has carried us along another knot," said Jack,
opening the log, which he had been appointed to keep; "and now, by
your leave, I will read over some of my entries to refresh your
memories as to our proceedings.
"March 9th.--Wind fair and fresh--steered to north-west--a flock of
seals under our lee bow--feel rather squeamish.
"10th.--No wind--fall in with a largish island and four little ones,
give them the name of Willis's Archipelago.
"11th.--A dead calm--sea smooth as a mirror--all of us dull and
sleepy.
"12th.--Heat 90 deg.--shot a boobie, roasted and ate him, rather
fishy--passed the night amongst some reefs.
"13th.--Same as the 12th, but no boobie.
"14th.--Same as the 13th.
"Dreadfully tiresome, is it not," said Jack; "no wonder they call this
ocean the Pacific."
"Alas!" sighed Willis, thinking of the _Nelson_, "it does not always
justify the name."
"15th.--Hailed a low island, surrounded with breakers, named it
Sophia's Island."
"But all these islands have been named half a dozen times already,"
said Willis.
"Oh, never mind that, another name or two will not break their backs."
"16th.--Current bearing us rapidly to westward--caught a sea cow, and
had it converted into pemican.
"17th.--Shot another boobie, which we put in the pot to remind us that
we were no worse off than the subjects of Henry IV. No wind--sea
blazing like a furnace."
"You will have to turn over a new leaf in your log by-and-by," said
Willis, "or I am very much mistaken."
"Well, I hope you are not mistaken, Willis, for I am tired of this
sort of thing."
A red haze now began to shroud the sun, the heat of the air became
almost stifling, but the muffled roar of distant thunder and bright
flashes of light warned the voyagers to prepare for a change. Willis
reefed the canvas close to the mast, and suggested that everything
likely to spoil should be put under hatches. This was scarcely done
before the storm had reached them, and they were soon in the midst of
a tropical deluge. At first, a light breeze sprung up, blowing towards
the south-east, which continued till midnight, when it chopped round.
Towards morning, it blew a heavy gale from east to east-south-east,
with a heavy sea running. In the meantime, the pinnace labored
heavily, and several seas broke over her. Willis now saw that their
only chance of safety lay in altering their course. All the canvas was
already braced up except the jib, which was necessary to give the
craft headway, and with this sail alone they were soon after speeding
at a rapid rate in the direction of the Polynesian Islands. The gale
continued almost without intermission for three weeks, during which
period Willis considered they must have been driven some hundreds, of
miles to the north-west.
The gale at length ceased, the sea resumed its tranquility, and the
wind became favorable. The pinnace had, however, been a good deal
battered by the storm, and their fresh water was getting low, and it
was decided they should still keep a westerly course till they reached
an island where they could refit before resuming their voyage.
"The gale has not done us much good," said Jack, sadly; "if it had
blown the other way, we might have been in the Indian Ocean by this
time."
"Cheer up," said Willis, taking the glass from his eye, "I see land
about three miles to leeward, and the landing appears easy."
"But the savages?" inquired Jack.
"The islands of this latitude are not all inhabited," replied Fritz;
"besides, under our present circumstances, we have no alternative but
to take our chance with them."
"Well, I do not know that," objected Jack; "it would be better for us
to do without fresh water than to run the risk of being eaten."
"What a beautiful coast!" cried Willis, who still kept the telescope
at his eye. "Near the shore the land is flat, and appears cultivated;
but behind, it rises gradually, and is closed in with a range of
hills, covered with trees. There is a beautiful bay in front of us,
which appears to invite us ashore. But the place is inhabited; the
shore is strewn with huts, and I can see clumps of the bread-fruit
tree growing near them."
"What sort of vegetable is the bread-fruit?" inquired Fritz.
"It is a very excellent thing, and supplies the natives with bread
without the intervention of grain, flour-mills, or bakers. It can be
eaten either raw, or baked, or boiled; either way, it is palatable.
The tree itself is like our apple trees; but the fruit is as large as
a pine-apple--when it is ripe, it is yellow and soft. The natives,
however, generally gather it before it is ripe; it is then cooked in
an oven; the skin is burnt or peeled off--the inside is tender and
white, like the crumb of bread or the flour of the potato."
"Let me have the telescope an instant," said Fritz; "I should like to
see what the natives are like. Ah, I see a troop of them collecting on
shore; some of them seem to be covered with a kind of wrought-steel
armor."
"Perhaps the descendants of the Crusaders," remarked Jack, "returning
from the Holy Land by way of the Pacific Ocean!"
"Others wear striped pantaloons," continued Fritz.
"That is to say," observed Willis, "the whole lot of them are as naked
as posts. What you suppose to be cuirasses and pantaloons, are their
tabooed breasts and legs."
"Are you sure of that, Willis?"
"Not a doubt about it."
"Such garments are both durable and economical," remarked Jack; "but I
scarcely think they are suitable for stormy weather. But do you think
it is safe to land amongst such a set of barebacked rascals, Willis?"
"I should not like to take the responsibility of guaranteeing our
safety; but I do not see what other course we can adopt."
They had now approached within musket-shot of the shore. They could
see that a venerable-looking old man stood a few paces in front of the
group of natives. He held a green branch in one hand, and pressed with
the other a long flowing white beard to his breast.
"According to universal grammar," said Jack, "these signs should mean
peace and amity."
"Yes," replied the Pilot; "the more so that the rear-guard are pouring
water on their heads, which is the greatest mark of courtesy the
natives of Polynesia can show to strangers."
"Gentlemen," cried Jack, taking off his cap and making a low bow, "we
are your most obedient servants."
"We must be on our guard," said Willis; "these savages are very
deceitful, and sometimes let fly their arrows under a show of
friendship. I will go on shore alone, whilst you keep at a little
distance off, ready to fire to cover my retreat, if need be."
The young men objected to Willis incurring danger that they did not
share; but on this point Willis was inexorable, so they were obliged
to suffer him to depart alone. By good chance, they had shipped a
small cask of glass beads on board the pinnace. The Pilot took a few
of these with him, and, placing a cask and a couple of calabashes in
the canoe, he rowed ashore.
The natives were evidently in great commotion; there was an immense
amount of running backwards and forwards. Something important was,
obviously enough, going forward; but, whether the excitement was
caused by curiosity or admiration, it was hard to say. They might be
preparing a friendly reception for the stranger, or they might be
preparing to eat him--which of the two was an interesting question
that Willis did not care about probing too deeply at that particular
moment.
Fritz and Jack anxiously watched the operations of the natives from
the bay. They could not with safety abandon the pinnace; but to leave
Willis to the mercy of the sinister-looking people on shore was not to
be thought of either. The _Mary_ was, therefore, run in as close as
possible, and Jack leaped on the sands a few minutes after the Pilot.
Willis marched boldly on towards the natives, and when he arrived
beside the old man, the crowd opened up and formed an avenue through
which a chief advanced, followed by a number of men, seemingly
priests, who carried a grotesque-looking figure that Jack presumed to
be an idol. The figure was made up of wicker-work--was of colossal
height--the features, which represented nothing on earth beneath nor
heaven above, were inconceivably hideous--the eyes were discs of
mother-of-pearl, with a nut in the centre--the teeth were apparently
those of a shark, and the body was covered with a mantle of red
feathers.
At the command of the chief, some of the natives advanced and placed a
quantity of bananas, bread-fruits, and other vegetables at the Pilot's
feet; the priests then came forward and knelt down before him, and
seemed to worship after the fashion of the ancients when they paid
their devotions to the Eleusinian goddess, or the statue of Apollo.
Meanwhile, Jack, on his side, was likewise surrounded by the natives,
who was treated with much less ceremony than Willis. Instead of
falling down on their knees, each of them, one after the other, rubbed
their noses against his, and then danced round him with every
demonstration of savage joy.
Jack had now an opportunity of observing the personages about him more
in detail. They were mostly tall and well-formed; their features bore
some resemblance to those of a negro, their nose being flat and their
lips thick; on the other hand, they had the high cheek-bones of the
North American Indian and the forehead of the Malay. Nearly all of
them were entirely naked, but wore a necklace and bracelets of shells.
They were armed with a sort of spear and an axe of hard wood edged
with stone. Their skins were tattooed all over with lines and circles,
and painted; these decorations, in some instances, exhibiting careful
execution and no inconsiderable degree of artistic skill. These
observations made, Jack pushed his way to the spot where Willis was
receiving the homage of the priests.
"What! you here?" said the Pilot.
"Yes, Willis, I have come to see what detained you. By the way, is
there anything the matter with my nose?"
"Nothing that I can see; but the natives of New Zealand rub their
noses against each other, and probably the same usage is fashion
here."
"Why, then, do they make you an exception?"
"I have not the remotest idea."
The priests at length rose, and the chief advanced. This dignitary
addressed a long discourse to Willis in a sing-song tone, which lasted
nearly half an hour. After this, he stood aside, and looked at Willis,
as if he expected a reply.
"Illustrious chief, king, prince, or nabob," said Willis, "I am highly
flattered by all the fine things you have just said to me. It is true,
I have not understood a single word, but the fruits you have placed
before me speak a language that I can understand. Howsomever, most
mighty potentate, we are not in want of provisions; but if you can
show us a spring of good water, you will confer upon us an everlasting
favor."
"You might just as well ask him to show you what o'clock it is by the
dial of his cathedral," said Jack.
"They would only point to the sun if I did."
"But suppose the sun invisible."
"Then they would be in the same position as we are when we forget to
wind up our watches. Gentlemen savages," he said, turning to the
natives and handing them the glass beads, "accept these trifles as a
token of our esteem."
The natives required no pressing, but accepted the proffered gifts
with great good-will. The dancing and singing then recommenced with
redoubled fury, and poor Jack's nose was almost obliterated by the
constant rubbing it underwent.
Suddenly the hubbub ceased, and a profound silence reigned throughout
the assembly. The oldest of the priests brought a mantle of red
feathers, similar to the one that covered the idol. This was thrown
over the Pilot's shoulders; a tuft of feathers, something resembling a
funeral plume, was placed upon his head, and a large semi-circular fan
was thrust into his hand. Thus equipped, a procession was formed, one
half before and the other half behind him. The _cortége_ began to move
slowly in the direction of the interior, but the operation was
disconcerted by Willis, who remained stock-still.
"Thank you," he said, "I would rather not go far away from the shore."
As soon as the natives saw clearly that Willis was not disposed to
move, the chief issued a mandate, and four stout fellows immediately
removed the idol from its position, and Willis was placed upon the
vacant pedestal.
The kind of adoration with which all these proceedings were
accompanied greatly perplexed the voyagers. What could it all mean?
Was this a common mode of welcoming strangers? It occurred to Jack
that the Romans were accustomed to decorate with flowers the victims
they designed as sacrifices to the altars of their gods before
immolating them. This reminiscence made his flesh creep with horror,
and filled him with the utmost dismay.
"Willis!" he cried to the Pilot, whom they were now leading off in
triumph, "let us try the effects of our rifles on this rabble; you
jump over the heads of your worshippers, and we will charge through
them to shore. I will shoot the first man that pursues us, and signal
Fritz to discharge the four-pounder amongst them."
"Impossible," replied Willis; "we should both be stuck all over with
arrows and lances before we could reach the pinnace. Did I not tell
you not to come ashore?"
"True, Willis, but did you suppose I had no heart? How could I look on
quietly whilst you were surrounded by a mob of ferocious-looking men?"
"Well, well, Master Jack, say no more about it; I do not suppose they
mean to do me any harm; but there would be danger in rousing the
passions of such a multitude of people. They seem, luckily, to direct
their attentions exclusively to me, so you had better go back and look
after the canoe."
"No; I shall follow you wherever you go, Willis, even into the
soup-kettles of the wretches."
"In that case," said Willis, "the wine is poured out, and, such as it
is, we must drink it."