"When pirates want to kill people they sometimes tie up their eyes, and
bind their hands, and make them walk along a plank stickin' over the
ship's side, till they fall off the end of it into the sea, where they
are left to drown."
Tomeo looked at Buttchee with a grin and nodded, as though he thought
the mode of execution rather a good one; then, recollecting suddenly
that any mode of slaying innocent men was inconsistent with his
character as a convert to Christianity, he cast a glance of awful
solemnity at Waroonga, and tried to look penitent.
"Well, hims walk de plank like a man," continued Ebony, "hims dood
eberyting like a man. An' w'en hims topple into de sea hims give sitch
a most awful wriggle dat his bonds bu'sted. But hims berry sly, was
Massa Zeppa--amazin' sly. I t'ought him lie on's back zif him be dead.
Jest move a leetle to look like drownin', an' w'en he long way astern,
he slew round, off wid de hanky fro hims eyes an' larf to hisseff like
one o'clock. Den he swum'd to a island an' git ashore, and climb up de
rocks, an' sit down--an'--an'--dat's all."
"What! be that all?" asked Waroonga.
"Dat's all," repeated the negro. "I no dream no more arter dat, 'cause
I was woked by a fly what hab hoed up my nose, an' kep' bumblin' in it
like steam inside ob a kittle."
"Well, Ebony," asked Orlando, "what conclusions do you draw from that
dream?"
"I di'nt draw no kungklooshins from it 'cos I dunno what de are. Nebber
hab notin' to do wid what I don' understan'. But what I was t'ink was
dis: in de days ob old, some time after Adam an' Eve was born, a sartin
king, called Fair-ho, or some sitch name (Waroonga there knows all about
him) had a dream, that siven swine came up--"
"Kine, Ebony--not swine," interrupted the missionary, with a
good-humoured smile, "which is all the same as cows."
"Well, den, siven fat cows come up out ob a ribber, an' hoed slap at
siven thin cows--mis'rable skinny critters that--"
"All wrong, Ebony," again interrupted Waroonga. "It's just the other
way. The skinny ones went at the fat ones."
"Well, ob course you must be right," returned the negro, humbly, "though
I'd have 'spected it was t'other way. But I s'pose the skinny ones was
so hungry that the fat ones hadn't a chance wid 'em. However, it don't
matter. What I was goin' to say was that a good man, called Joseph,
went to Fair-ho an' 'splained all his dream to him. Now, if Joseph
could do dat, why shouldn't Waroonga 'splain my dream to me?"
"Because I's not Joseph, Ebony, an you're not Pharoah," returned
Waroonga promptly.
Tomeo and Buttchee turned looks of inquiry on Ebony as if to say, "What
d'ye say to that, you nigger?" But the nigger said nothing for some
moments. He seemed not to have viewed the matter in that light.
"Well, I don'no," he said at last with a deep sigh, "I t'ought I'd get
hold ob suthin' when I kitch hold ob dat dream. But, I do b'lieve
myself, dat part of it means dat Zeppa hims git on an island, anyhow."
"If my dear father got upon _anything_, it must have been an island,"
said Orlando sadly.
"That's troo," remarked Mrs Waroonga. "Keep your mouth shut, my
da'lin'."
She referred to her brown baby, which she placed with some violence on
her knee. It is well to remark here that little Zariffa had been
supplied with a coal-scuttle bonnet proportioned to her size, made by
her mother out of native straw, and that she did not wear anything else
in the way of costume.
After Ebony's dream had been thoroughly discussed in all its bearings,
and viewed in every possible point of relation to their great sorrow,
the council adjourned, as usual, to various duties about the flourishing
little village, and Orlando went to lay the result before his mother,
who, although she could not believe these deliberations would end in
anything practical, found it impossible, nevertheless, to resist the
influence of so much faith and strong hopefulness, so that she was
somewhat comforted, as it were, in spite of herself. Time flew by, and
upwards of three years elapsed without anything happening at Ratinga
Island to throw a single ray of light on the fate of the lost man.
During that period, however, much that was interesting and encouraging
occurred to comfort the heart of the native missionary and the sorrowing
Marie Zeppa. In the first place they received several visits from the
mission-vessel, with small supplies of such luxuries as sugar, tea, and
coffee for the body, and, for the spirit, a few bundles of tracts and
books printed in the native tongue, among which, you may be sure, were
many copies of the Book of books, the blessed Bible. Carpenters' and
smiths' tools were also brought to them, so that they not only carried
on their house-building and other operations with greater ease than
heretofore, but even essayed the building of small boats with
considerable success.
On the occasion of these visits, supplies of clothing were also left for
the use of those converts who could be persuaded to put them on. But in
these matters of taste Waroonga was not so successful as he had been in
spiritual things. After his first disastrous landing, he had found no
difficulty in persuading the natives to burn their false gods, and put
away their too numerous wives--reserving only one to each man;--but when
it was suggested that the usual bit of cloth round the loins was not
quite sufficient for Christians, and that additional clothing was
desirable, they betrayed decided symptoms of a tendency to rebel.
Savages in all parts of the world are usually much influenced for good
or evil by the example of their chiefs. Those of Ratinga were no
exception to the general rule, and the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee did not
encourage the putting on of clothes. In the matter of head-dress they
had indeed given in; but when one day, Waroonga presented Tomeo with a
pair of what are called slop-made trousers, and advised him to put them
on, slapping his own at the same time, and asserting (we trust
truthfully) that they were comfortable, Tomeo looked at them with an air
of contempt and Buttchee, who was irreverent, laughed.
After much persuasion, however, and being good-natured, he consented to
try. He got one leg in easily enough, but when he attempted to put in
the other, not being accustomed to the feat, he staggered and had to let
the leg down. Raising it a second time, he made a successful plunge,
got the foot in, lost his balance, made a frantic effort to disengage
his foot, and fell to the ground.
"Sit down, my friend, and try it again," said Waroonga, encouragingly.
Our missionary was of a gentle, loving disposition. His successes were
in every case the result of suasion. He never sought to coerce men.
Tomeo with childlike simplicity rebuked his own awkwardness, and humbly
seated his huge body on a bank for another effort. In this position he
got his legs easily into the trousers and drew them on, but when he
stood up to complete the operation, it was found that they were very
much too small for him, besides which he had put them on with the back
to the front!
"Ah! my friend, they do not fit," said Waroonga, thinking it unnecessary
to refer to the error. "I will find a larger pair for you in the store.
But try this coat. It is the kind worn by the white man when he goes
to see his friends. It will be much easier to put on, I think." So
saying, Waroonga produced a blue surtout with bright brass buttons.
"No," said Tomeo, drawing himself up with dignity, and putting the
garment aside, "I do not require it. Has not a coat of skin been given
to me? I want no other."
And truly, the dark brown skin which fitted so perfectly to his muscular
frame--tattooed as it was with many elegant devices--seemed to warrant
his rejection of the ill-made surtout. But in Ratinga, as elsewhere,
tastes differ. Buttchee's fancy was caught by the brass buttons, and he
volunteered to put on the coat, although he had looked with scorn on the
trousers.
Like his brother chief, however, he experienced considerable difficulty,
especially in distinguishing the difference between the left arm-hole
and the breast pocket, despite the able assistance of Waroonga. At last
he got the coat partially on, and with a mighty heave, forced it upon
his broad shoulders. Then he stood with arms awkwardly curved and
extended, uncertain what to do next. He was by no means properly into
the garment, and his look of solemn inquiry said as much to the
missionary.
"Try another heave, my friend," said Waroonga, in a tone of
encouragement.
Buttchee tried, with the result of a mysterious and incomprehensible
noise at his back.
"What is that?" he said quickly, with looks of alarm, as he endeavoured
to glance over his shoulder.
"I fear," replied Waroonga with some hesitation, "that the coat has
burst!"
There could be no doubt whatever about that, for a long strip of the
chief's back was visible, as if a gusset of brown leather had been
introduced into the blue coat, from the waist to the collar.
For a considerable time after this, both chiefs declined further
experiments in the clothing way, but ultimately Tomeo was induced to
wear a striped flannel jersey, and Buttchee, of his own accord, adopted
a scarlet flannel petticoat that had been given to his wife. Thus was
the ice of conservatism broken in the island of Ratinga, and liberal
views prevailed thenceforward in the matter of costume--whether to the
advancement of taste and decency remains to this day an open question,
as all liberal and conservative questions will probably remain till the
crack of doom.
One day, to the inexpressible surprise and joy of the islanders, a large
vessel was seen to pass through the narrow opening in the coral reef,
and cast anchor in the lagoon. The excitement on Ratinga was great, for
vessels rarely had occasion to visit the island, although some of them,
probably South Sea whalers, were seen to pass it on the horizon two or
three times a year.
Immediately four canoes full of natives put off to visit the stranger;
but on reaching her they were sternly told to keep off, and the order
was silently enforced by the protruding muzzle of a carronade, and the
forbidding aspect of several armed men who looked over the side. "We
are men of peace," said Waroonga, who was in the foremost canoe, "and
come as Christian friends."
"We are men of war," growled one of the men, "an' don't want no friends,
Christian or otherwise."
"We came to offer you hospitality," returned the missionary in a
remonstrative tone.
"An' we came to take all the hospitality we want of you without waitin'
for the offer," retorted the sailor, "so you'd better go back to where
you came from, an' keep yourselves quiet, if ye don't want to be blowed
out o' the water."
This was sufficient. With disappointed looks the natives turned their
canoes shoreward and slowly paddled home.
"Depend upon it, this is another pirate," said Orlando, when Waroonga
reported to him the result of his visit.
"What would you advise us to do?" asked Waroonga.
Lest the reader should be surprised at this question, we must remind him
that Orlando had, in the course of these three years, grown up almost to
manhood. The southern blood in his veins, and the nature of the climate
in which he had been born and brought up, may have had something to do
with his early development; but, whatever the cause, he had, at the
early age of eighteen, become as tall and nearly as powerful as his
father had been, and so like to him in aspect and manner, that the
natives began to regard him with much of that respect and love which
they had formerly entertained towards Antonio. Of course Orlando had
not the sprinkling of grey in his short black curly hair which had
characterised the elder Zeppa; but he possessed enough of the black
beard and moustache, in a soft rudimental form, to render the
resemblance to what his sire had been very remarkable. His poor little
mother left the management of all her out-of-door affairs with perfect
confidence to her son. Tomeo and Buttchee also had begun to regard him
as his father's successor.
"I would advise you to do nothing," said Orley, in reply to Waroonga's
question, "beyond having all the fighting men of the village prepared
for action, and being ready at a moment's notice to receive the
strangers as friends if they choose to come as such."
"Well, then, Orley, I will be ready for them, as you tell to me, if they
comes in peace; if not, you must go and carry out your own advice, for
you is manager of all secular affairs here."
In the afternoon a large boat, full of men armed to the teeth, put off
from the side of the strange vessel, which was barque-rigged, and rowed
to the beach near the mouth of a small stream. Evidently the object of
the visit was to procure fresh water. Having posted his men in ambush,
with orders to act in strict accordance with his signals, Orlando
sauntered down alone and unarmed to the place where the sailors were
filling their water-casks.
"Is your captain here?" he asked quietly.
The men, who were seemingly a band of thorough ruffians, looked at him
in surprise, but went on filling their casks.
"I am the captain," said one, stepping up to the youth with an insolent
air.
"Indeed!" said Orlando, with a look of surprise.
"Yes, indeed, and let me tell you that we have no time to trouble
ourselves wi' you or yours; but since you've put yourself in our power,
we make you stay here till we've done watering."
"I have no intention of leaving you," replied Orley, seating himself on
a rock, with a pleasant smile.
"What d'ee say to kidnap the young buck?" suggested one of the men; "he
might be useful."
"Perhaps he might be troublesome," remarked Orlando; "but I would advise
you to finish your work here in peace, for I have a band of three
hundred men up in the bush there--not ordinary savages, let me tell you,
but men with the fear of God in their hearts, and the courage of lions
in their breasts--who would think it an easy matter to sweep you all off
the face of the earth. They are ready to act at my signal--or at my
fall--so it will be your wisdom to behave yourselves."
The quiet, almost gentle manner in which this was said, had a powerful
effect on the men. Without more words they completed the filling of the
casks, and then, re-embarking, pushed off. It was obvious that they
acted in haste. When they had gone about a couple of boat-lengths from
the beach, one of the men rose up with a musket, and Orlando distinctly
heard him say--
"Shall I send a bullet into him?"
"If you do, the captain will skin you alive," was the reply from one of
the other men.
The alternative did not seem agreeable to the first speaker, for he laid
down his musket, and resumed his oar.
Soon after the boat reached her, the sails of the stranger were spread,
and she glided slowly out of the lagoon.