DEATH OF VOULES--ALL LOST--DESPAIR OF LORD REGINALD--NEPTUNE--WATER
FOUND--A MOURNFUL DUTY--BURYING THE DROWNED--REMORSE--THE RIVAL
CRUSOES--THE LAST OF POOR BEN--STONE THROWING--NOTHING BUT CLAMS--
NEPTUNE AND THE PIGEON--THE BODY OF LUCAS DISCOVERED--GOOD INTENTIONS--
AN ANGRY MEETING--NEPTUNE'S DISLIKE TO SHELL-FISH--A PERILOUS SWIM--
LOOKING OVER THE ISLAND--ANOTHER STORMY ENCOUNTER--LABOUR IN VAIN--PRIDE
AGAINST REASON--BOW-MAKING--NEP FINDS A TREASURE.
Lord Reginald lay for some minutes on the beach utterly exhausted, but
not senseless. He recollected vividly all that had occurred. So
battered and bruised did he feel, it seemed to him that he had only
escaped from drowning to die a more lingering death on the barren shore,
or to be massacred by the savage inhabitants of the island on which he
had been cast.
"Is it my fate alone to have escaped among all the stout fellows who
manned the ship?" he at length asked himself. "Perhaps even now some
are struggling in the waves, and as I have been carried in safety to the
shore, I ought to try and help them."
This thought made him attempt to rise, and he found that he could do so
with less difficulty than he had supposed possible. The wind had begun
to fall almost directly after the ship had struck, but still the seas
rolled in as heavily as before. He knew, weak as he was, should he
venture into their power, that he might be lifted off his feet and
carried away in their cruel embrace. On looking around he saw a mass of
broken spars, torn canvas, and running rigging thrown up within his
reach. On examining it he found that he could unreeve some of the rope.
He set energetically to work.
By using a knife which he fortunately had in his pocket, he was able to
cut off several lengths, which, knotting together, formed a long rope.
Taking three spars he forced them with all his might, in the form of a
triangle, into the sand, and secured one end of the rope to the spar
nearest the sea, while the other end he fastened round his waist. This
done he was able to advance further into the water than he would
otherwise have ventured to do.
He stood listening and straining his eyes over the foaming masses which
continued to roll up unceasingly before him. He could distinguish the
black ledge upon which the _Marie_ had struck on one side, and on the
other a lofty point which ran out to an equal distance forming the bay
on the shore of which he had been thrown. The waters of the bay
appeared still covered with floating masses of wreck tumbling and
tossing about. While he was looking a crescent moon broke through the
clouds, revealing to him for an instant what he supposed was the bows of
the ship still holding together. The next instant the moon was
obscured, and the object shut out from sight. Some of the crew might
still be clinging to it, and if so he might not be left entirely alone.
He shouted again and again, but no answer came; indeed, the roar of the
breakers prevented his voice being heard at that distance. Some one
might be clinging to any of the pieces of wreck floating about before
him.
He listened, and at length fancied that he heard a faint cry. He gazed
anxiously in the direction from whence he believed it came. He had
picked up a long stick, so that he might the better be able to resist
the force of the breakers should they surround him, or prevent him being
carried off as they receded from the beach. Again he shouted, and once
more fancied he heard a faint cry.
Yes, it was a human voice borne to him by the wind across the seething
waters. He waited anxiously for the re-appearance of the moon, hoping
that her light would enable him to discover the whereabouts of his
shipmate, whoever he might be. He wished to save life, but he wished
also to have a companion to share his misfortune.
At length, the moon appearing, he saw a piece of wreck, to which a human
being was clinging, being carried by every succeeding sea closer and
closer to the beach. The man was evidently lashed to it, or he could
not have clung on. Lord Reginald at once saw the difficulty there would
be in extricating him before the beam was rolled over and over. He
again got out his knife that he might cut the lashings. The beam was
almost within his reach, he could clearly see that it bore a man who,
however, neither cried out nor made a sign that he was alive. "Still,
the poor fellow may recover," thought Lord Reginald, and rushing forward
as the next sea threw the piece of timber on the beach, he at once
seized the inanimate form, cut the rope, and with a strength he scarcely
believed himself to possess, dragged it up out of the reach of the
water. As he did so he saw by the uniform that it was his own messmate
Voules.
He laid him on the dry beach, and having loosened the handkerchief round
his neck, knelt down by his side, and endeavoured to restore him to
animation by chafing his hands and chest. After he had been thus
engaged for some time, he heard Voules emit a low sigh.
"He is not dead, at all events, and may, I trust, be restored!" he
exclaimed, resuming his efforts.
Voules sighed again, but still lay without making any effort to move.
Lord Reginald looked round to try and ascertain if any place which would
afford him and his shipmate shelter from the night air, was near. He
could only see black rocks rising up above the beach, though in one
place there appeared to be an opening, but it was too dark to
distinguish whether there were trees beyond.
"It will never do to remain here all night," he said to himself; "it is
still some hours off morning, and we both of us may perish."
The effort he had to make to take care of his friend was of the greatest
benefit to himself. It prevented his thoughts dwelling on his own
sufferings. He tried to lift up his companion, to carry him in his
arms, but his strength was insufficient, and after going a few paces he
was obliged to let him sink again on the ground.
"Voules, Voules, my dear fellow, do speak!" he exclaimed; "tell me where
you are hurt. What can I do for you? You are safe on shore. If you
could but arouse yourself, we might get under shelter."
But Voules only gave an occasional sigh. He seemed too weak almost to
groan. Again Lord Reginald attempted to carry him towards an
overhanging rock which rose at some distance beyond the beach. In this
he succeeded better than at first, and after stopping two or three times
he reached it. To his satisfaction, he discovered that there was a
small cave, the bottom covered with dry sand. This would, at all
events, afford a more comfortable resting-place than the open beach, as
well as shelter from the rain, which now came on in dense showers. It
was so dark, however, that he could not see his companion's features.
Seating himself by his side, he once more began to chafe his hands and
breast, he then turned him on one side, when his patient threw up some
of the water which he had swallowed. Thus relieved, Voules appeared to
recover slightly.
"You'll do well, I hope, my poor fellow, if you would but pluck up
courage," said Lord Reginald. "When daylight returns we shall find some
food and water."
"I fear not," answered Voules, in a faint voice. "I am bruised all
over, and I feel as if my right leg was broken."
"I hope not," said Lord Reginald, examining the limb. To his dismay he
found that Voules was right. "We must try and set it," he observed;
"though it will prevent you being of much use for some time to come, you
must not despair on that account. I earnestly hope that some of the men
may have escaped to help us, though I could discover no one on the part
of the beach where we were thrown."
Voules groaned deeply. "I am much obliged to you, Oswald, for what you
have done for me, but it is of no use. I almost wish that you had left
me to perish in the sea, for I feel that I am dying. It is very
terrible; I have all sorts of sins on my conscience. Then I think of
how I encouraged you to get that young Hargrave and the older man Rudall
carried off from their homes, and how they have both now probably been
lost. It seems to me as if their deaths were at my door."
"If they are at yours, they are at mine also," said Lord Reginald. "I
dislike the fellows, and though I should be thankful if any of the crew
escaped, I should not like to see their faces. The chances are they
would wreak their vengeance on our heads, helpless as we are, without
the slightest means of defence."
"I should be thankful to think that we had not been the cause of their
deaths," said Voules.
"Well, well, don't talk about them, but try and get some sleep, old
fellow; it will restore your strength more than anything else."
Voules groaned. "I shall never sleep again, until the last sleep of
all," he muttered.
"Try, try," said Lord Reginald; "I'll sit up and keep watch."
"Thank you," murmured Voules.
Lord Reginald was silent, but Voules's heavy breathing and the low moans
to which he gave vent, showed that his slumbers were troubled, if he
slept at all. The young lord could understand how much his companion
suffered from the pains which racked his own body, and yet, with the
exception of the few bruises he had received, he was unhurt. For a long
time he sat and watched, earnestly wishing for day, and at length he
himself sank down on the sand and fell asleep. His dreams, too, were
troubled. All the horrors of the shipwreck were ever present to his
thoughts. Now he fancied himself struggling in the waves, now reaching
the beach, but in vain attempting to climb up it, the seas carrying him
back every time his feet touched the firm ground. He awoke with a
start, fancying that Voules was calling him. The sun had risen, and the
rays were streaming across the white sand in front of the cave. The
storm had ceased, though the seas still came rolling sluggishly on,
dashing into foam as they reached the beach.
"Did you call, Voules?" he asked, raising himself on his elbow to look
at his companion, who however made no answer. "I must not awaken him,"
he said; "sleep will do him more good than anything else. I must go out
and try and find some fresh water and food of some sort."
He got up on his feet; though he felt weak, he was able to walk. He was
about to go out, when he cast a glance at Voules. He started back with
horror, as he saw the pallid countenance before him, the glazed eyes
staring wildly, the fallen jaw.
"Can he be dead?" he exclaimed, stooping down. He could not discover
the faintest breathing. He lifted an arm, it fell lifeless on the sand.
"Voules, Voules!" he almost shrieked out; "speak but one word to me."
No answer came from those open lips, and he saw too evidently that his
companion was dead. The horrors of his situation burst upon him with
more force than ever. He was alone in that apparently desert island; no
one to consult with, no one even to speak to. He threw himself on the
sand, and for some time lay almost as motionless as the inanimate form
near him, believing that he himself would die. Then the desire to
prolong his life returned. A burning thirst oppressed him; though he
had eaten nothing since the previous day at noon, he felt but little
hunger. He was about to leave the cavern in the hopes of discovering a
spring, when he saw in the distance an object moving towards him.
At first he thought it must be some wild beast, but presently his
favourite dog, Neptune, hove in sight, and came rushing on, leaping up,
uttering loud barks of joy, placing his paws on his shoulders, and
trying to lick his face.
"Where have you come from, Nep?" he asked. "Your coat is perfectly dry,
you must have been on shore some hours." But Nep only wagged his tail,
and bounded round and round him. Lord Reginald fondly patted the dog's
head. "Thank Heaven, you have been saved, Nep. I have one trusty
companion left, and I must not lose heart."
The dog seemed to understand him, and redoubled his signs of
satisfaction. Suddenly he stopped, and looked towards the body of
Voules, then he approached it cautiously, and after examining it for a
moment he set up a loud howl, and turning round, ran crouching back to
his master, as if fully conscious of the fate of the unhappy young man.
"Yes, he's gone, in truth!" said Lord Reginald. "You and I are now
alone. We must set out to try and find a spring and some food, if they
exist on this dreadful spot; but you don't look either hungry or
thirsty. Perhaps you have found a spring. Come along, Nep; come
along!" So saying, Lord Reginald, accompanied by the dog, directed his
steps towards an opening in the line of cliffs which circled round the
bay. As he advanced, the opening widened out, and to his joy he saw
numerous cocoanut and other trees. At first he could discover no sign
of a spring.
"That verdure cannot exist without water," he said to himself; "there
must be some near at hand. Surely, if it exists Nep will find it." As
he advanced further he found himself in a small valley running directly
up from the sea, and shortly afterwards his eye fell on the sheen of
water. It appeared to be a stream running down the centre and losing
itself in the porous sand before it reached the ocean. He uttered a cry
of joy, and pushed forward. He was soon stooping down, lapping the
water up eagerly with his hand. He then began to feel the pangs of
hunger. The only fruit he could discover were cocoanuts, but they hung
so high above his head that he had no hope of obtaining any. He was too
weak to attempt climbing even the smallest of the trees on which they
grew. He thought of various devices for bringing them down. He might
manage to get some could he find a long thin line which, by means of a
stone, he might throw over the boughs. Then he searched about for other
food. He looked also anxiously for human habitations. The sun beat
down with intense heat into the valley, and the tall trees afforded but
little shade. He was compelled at length to retreat towards the cavern.
That, at all events, would be cool, he thought. A few more cocoanut
trees only had to be passed, when, just as he was going under the boughs
of one, he saw a large brown mass covered with fibre lying before him.
Though he had never before seen a cocoanut when growing in a wild state,
he knew what it was. He seized it eagerly, and began tearing off the
outer cover. Conveying it to the cave, with a piece of stone he broke
off the top, and having swallowed the refreshing juice in the interior,
he soon broke it to pieces so as to get at the flesh. With this he
somewhat satisfied the gnawings of hunger.
"Such food won't suit you, my poor dog!" he said, looking at Nep.
However, the dog wagged his tail, and very readily swallowed a few of
the pieces cut out of the shell, which his master threw him. He had now
to consider what was next to be done. His eye fell on the body of poor
Voules.
"He was a miserable counsellor, and did me harm by attempting to flatter
me; though I confess that I had but little real regard for him, I
certainly wish that he was still alive; but as he has gone, I must
endeavour to pay him the respect I would to any fellow-creature, and
give him decent burial." Saying this, he got up and looked about to
settle by what means he could accomplish his object. The shore was
strewn with timber and pieces of plank of all shapes. Hunting about he
soon found a piece which would answer his purpose, though had he
possessed an axe he might have chopped it into a more suitable shape; as
it was, however, it would have to serve his purpose. His next care was
to select some fitting spot for the grave. He pitched on one under the
cliff, where the sand appeared sufficiently soft, while the shape of the
rocks around would make it easily recognised.
He began to dig away, but the sand fell in almost as quickly as he
shovelled it out of the pit, and he had greatly to increase its size
before he could reach any depth. He felt sick at heart as he performed
his unaccustomed task.
Neptune stood by watching him, apparently understanding his object,
although he could render no assistance. At last the grave was dug. His
courage almost gave way as he prepared to place the body of his late
companion--one whom he had known for so many years--in his last
resting-place. While chafing Voules's chest he had observed a locket
hanging to a riband. He undid it, that he might deliver it to his
friends. On opening it he saw that it contained the miniature of a
young and pretty girl.
"Poor thing!" he said. "She thought him probably all that is brave and
good. Now she'll value him the more because he has gone! I wouldn't
undeceive her for worlds, though I have but little chance of ever being
able to deliver this to his friends." He took his watch, and a few
other articles. There was a pocket-book, but he had neither time nor
inclination to look into it. Indeed, in all probability, whatever
writing there was had been obliterated by salt water. Among other
things was a small pocket spyglass, which was likely to prove useful.
He found, on trying to lift the body, that his strength was insufficient
for the task, so that he had to drag it by the collar of the coat to the
edge of the grave, into which he managed to lower it.
"Rest there, my poor shipmate," he said. "I little thought when we were
last on shore, amusing ourselves to our hearts' content, that such would
so soon be your end. Yet, what may be mine?"
He rested for some moments, gazing with a sort of fascination on the
dead body, unwilling to cover it up for ever from view. "It must be
done!" he said at length, and he began to shovel in the sand, a task
which was very quickly accomplished.
"Now I am all alone, the sole inhabitant of this island. That, however,
would be better than finding it peopled by a savage tribe, who would
either kill me or make me work for them as a slave. Had I the strength,
I would build a tomb of rock over him, but he'll rest well enough
without it. I suppose there are no creatures which will come and dig
him up."
He would gladly after this have rested in his cave, for the rays of the
sun, now high in the heavens, beat down with intense force on his
unprotected head. At the same time, the pangs of hunger reminded him
that he must go in search of more substantial food than cocoanuts would
afford. He had heard that turtles laid their eggs on the sandy beaches
of these islands, but whether he should find them at this time of the
year, or whether the young turtles had been hatched and crawled away, he
was utterly ignorant. As he walked along the shore, he carefully
examined the sand, in the hopes of finding some mounds or the marks of
turtles' feet to show where their eggs had been deposited, but not an
indication of any sort could he discover.
"I shall have to depend upon shell-fish," he said to himself; "there
must be numbers sticking to the rocks, and I must try and get them off
with my knife. I wish that I had some fishing-hooks and lines. By
scrambling out to the end of a reef I might very likely catch as many
fish as I require, but as I have not the hooks and lines, I must manage
with what I can get." He sighed as he felt his helplessness. On
looking along the beach he saw it covered with pieces of wreck as far as
the eye could reach. He might at all events find something useful among
the articles thrown up. He had not got far when he caught sight of a
human form surging up and down, close to the beach. It might be some
person who, having clung on to a piece of the wreck during the night,
was attempting to reach the shore. He rushed forward to assist the man
to land, but scarcely had he seized an arm than he saw that it was that
of a dead body. He did not, however, let go his hold, but dragged it up
on the beach.
"I must bury the poor fellow, at all events," he observed, looking at
the countenance of the man, who was one of the ordinary seamen. The
discovery of the body made him look more narrowly along the beach, and
he saw several others either thrown up, or floating close to the shore.
The sight brought Richard Hargrave to his recollection. "He is probably
among them," he thought, "and I was the cause of dragging him away from
his home, prompted by my revengeful spirit and bad feelings. I am as
guilty as if I were his murderer. I wish that he had made good his
escape and remained at home, and I would give much now to know that he
had reached the shore in safety, but that is not likely." He dragged up
body after body, scanning their countenances anxiously, fearing that he
should recognise that of Richard Hargrave. At last he came to one with
grizzled hair and beard, which he recognised as that of the smuggler Ben
Rudall, who had by his means been torn from his home.
"Unhappy wretch! By the way Voules and I treated him he must have had a
miserable life of it on board. I suspect that he and Hargrave, if they
had had the opportunity, would have treated me as I deserve. Would that
I could forget the past! However, I cannot let them lie here to rot."
On counting the number of bodies he had hauled out of the water, he
found that there were no less than five. The task was abhorrent to his
nature. "I little thought that I should ever become a grave-digger!" he
exclaimed, bitterly. "However, it must be done; I couldn't rest at
night if I knew they were there. I only hope that the sea has washed
away the remainder, that I shall not have to bury the whole of my crew;
perhaps by that time I shall become accustomed to it, only every day
will render the business more horrible."
The young lord, however, managed to muster up resolution to commence the
task. He went back for the piece of board which had served him to dig
the grave of Voules, and commenced shovelling away the sand some
distance above high-water mark. It would evidently require a large
grave, and the task would occupy him some hours. The sun, which was
intensely hot, beat down on his unprotected head, while the perspiration
streamed from his forehead. At last he could work no more, and,
supporting himself by the spade, followed by Neptune, he staggered to
the nearest spot where he observed some shade beneath the cliff. As he
threw himself on the ground, the dog lay down by his side with his
tongue out, showing that he too felt the heat.
Overcome with fatigue, he dropped into an uneasy doze, painful fancies
filling his brain. How long he had thus remained he could not tell,
when, on opening his eyes, they fell on a figure standing by the
half-finished grave. His disordered imagination made him fancy that it
was one of those he was about to bury who, recovering, had regained his
feet. Or could it be a spirit?
His eyes dilated as he gazed. The person, after looking into the grave
for a few seconds, turned round and went towards where the bodies lay
and then knelt down by the side of one of them. Lord Reginald, not
seeing him, as he was concealed by the slope of the beach from where he
lay, fancied as he gradually recovered his senses that he must have been
subjected to some hallucination, and resolved to finish his task.
"Come, Nep," he said, rising, "we must finish the work, terrible as it
is!" What was his surprise to find that his dog had gone? He made his
way back to the grave, keeping his head turned in an opposite direction
from the bodies, unwilling to look at them from the sickening feeling
which came over him when he did so. Descending into the pit he had
formed, he began to throw out the sand. While thus employed he heard a
voice close to him say--
"Shall I help you?"
His first impulse was to spring out of the grave and express the joy he
felt that one of his crew had escaped, but on looking up he saw Richard
Hargrave standing near, with a piece of wood similar to the one with
which he was employed. At first his feelings softened towards his
enemy, for so he regarded the young seaman, but the next instant he
fancied that he detected a look of scorn in his countenance. Still, he
wanted to get the work done, and alone he could not accomplish it. He
therefore answered, "Yes, you may fall to, for it is more than one man
alone can do."
Without exchanging another word, Dick leapt down into the pit and began
shovelling out the sand in a far more effectual way than Lord Reginald
had done. When the grave was of sufficient size, Dick got out and
immediately went towards one of the bodies, beckoning his companion to
assist him in carrying it to its last resting-place. Lord Reginald
hesitated, but when Dick began to drag the body by the shoulders he took
it up by the feet. One by one three of the other bodies were carried to
the grave. Lord Reginald was about to lift up the feet of Ben Rudall,
when Dick exclaimed--
"No, no; let him alone. We will give him a grave to himself. He was an
old friend of mine, though he might have led me astray, and I want to
pay him all the respect I can."
Lord Reginald let the feet drop, and without speaking returned to the
grave, where he began to shovel in the sand. Dick joining him, the task
was soon accomplished.
"As I undertook to dig this poor fellow's grave alone, I won't ask you
to help me," said Dick, turning aside without attempting to exchange any
further words with his companion.
Lord Reginald, utterly exhausted, retreated to the shade of the cliff,
calling in an angry tone to Neptune, who had followed Dick, to watch his
proceedings.
He observed that Hargrave wore a hat roughly made from palm leaves, and
was thus able to endure the heat much better than he could. It did not
occur to him that he possessed a handkerchief in his pocket which, had
he bound round his head, would have afforded him some protection. At
length he could endure the thirst from which he was suffering no longer,
and getting up, endeavoured to make his way to the spring at which he
had before obtained water. He reached it at last, and sank down by the
side of the pool, scarcely able to lift the water with his hand to his
parched lips. He succeeded, however, and felt somewhat restored. Nep
showed how thirsty he was by lapping it up eagerly.
He waited some time, half expecting that Hargrave would join him. He
was too proud to call him, and inquire how he had escaped from the
wreck, which he wished to know, as well as to ascertain if any one else
had been saved. Even Neptune appeared surprised, and showed an
inclination to start off every now and then and join Dick, who had
become a great friend of his on board.
All this time Lord Reginald had eaten nothing except the remains of the
cocoanut. He was sensible that he was becoming fainter and weaker.
Whether or not Nep had got any food when he disappeared, he could not
tell, but from the way he observed Hargrave work he felt very sure that
he, at all events, was not starving.
He saw numerous birds of gay plumage flying among the trees, but he had
no means of getting them. He thought that he might possibly knock some
of them down. For this purpose he returned to the beach to pick up some
pebbles. Having filled his pockets, he went back to the neighbourhood
of the stream. Though he got frequently within reach of the birds, he
could not manage to hit one of them. At last he had exhausted every one
of his pebbles, and, prompted by hunger, was about to go back to obtain
more, when he bethought him that by hiding behind a bush an unwary bird
might come near enough to enable him to knock it down with a stick which
he had picked up. He waited for some time. Though several birds came
near--one a fine fat pigeon with beautiful plumage--they kept beyond his
reach. At length, losing his patience, he threw his stick at a bird
which had perched on a bough about twelve feet off. The bird rose,
wagging its tail as if in derision, and flew off unhurt. Nep, who was
by this time as famished as his master, showed his eagerness by dashing
here and there after the birds, which flew near the ground.
"It's of no use, Nep," said Lord Reginald; "we must try what the
sea-shore will yield." They returned together to the beach. The tide
was low and shell-fish--some of large size--clung to the rocks or lay on
the sand.
Supposing that the latter were dead or not fit to eat; he attempted to
cut off with his knife some of those clinging to the rocks, a more
difficult task than he had expected, and he blunted it considerably in
the attempt. At last he got several off, and with these, as well as a
few of the freshest looking which he had picked up on the beach, he
returned to the cave.
He nearly cut his finger in attempting to open them, and when he had
succeeded in separating the shells of a couple, he recollected that he
must cook them before they would be fit to eat. First he had to collect
firewood. For this purpose he was compelled to go back to where he
could obtain some dry branches, broken off by previous gales. While
thus engaged, he saw some smoke in the distance.
"That must be a fire kindled by that fellow Hargrave," he said to
himself; "he probably has found something to eat, but I cannot go and
ask him for a light, still less can I bring myself to beg for some of
the food. Probably he would refuse me if I did. No, no, I will let him
come to me and ask my pardon for his insolent behaviour."
By exerting himself, the young lord collected a bundle of sticks. On
his way he found another cocoanut, which prize he was glad to obtain,
for it would serve as bread to help him swallow the shell-fish.
With his bundle on his shoulders he returned to the cave. He unscrewed
the object glass from Voules's telescope, but in vain tried to obtain a
light. The sticks might have burned had a flame once been established.
He had, therefore, to go back and search for dry leaves or moss, or some
more inflammable substance.
He found some fungus, which from its dry nature he thought would quickly
ignite. With this and his arms full of leaves, he once more made his
way back to his cave. The sun was by this time sinking low, and he was
afraid after all that its rays would be too oblique to enable him to
obtain a spark. He anxiously held the glass in its right position, and
was thankful when he saw a fine line of smoke ascending; by blowing
gently and placing some dry leaves above it, he at length obtained a
flame, with which he set the pile of leaves he had placed under the
sticks on fire.
"I am now as well off as that fellow Hargrave," he said to himself, as
he placed the shell-fish on the embers. He had never before attempted
to cook anything, and had very little notion of how it was to be done.
He saw the shells getting hotter and hotter, when on raking them out he
found the interior burnt to a cinder. "Rather overdone," he thought; "I
must not let them stay in again so long." He succeeded rather better
with the next, but had to confess that they were very tough.
Though his hunger was not satisfied, he had no inclination to eat more;
having broken the shells, he bestowed the remainder on Neptune, who
apparently preferred them raw to cooked. He eked out his scanty meal
with cocoanut, having drunk the juice, which he found very refreshing
after the salt, coarse-tasting clams. He had no longer any fear of
starving, though the food he had obtained was neither wholesome nor
palatable.
After finishing his meal, he threw himself on the sand within the shadow
of the cave, trying to reflect what he should next do, but his mind was
in a state of confusion. He could not sufficiently collect his thoughts
to arrive at any determination. Neptune lay by his side, occasionally
licking his hand, trying to amuse him. He felt the solitude to which he
was doomed trying in the extreme. The only human being on the island
beside himself, was, as far as he could tell, young Hargrave, whom he
had despised and hated, and who seemed in no way disposed to forget the
mutual ill-feeling which had so long existed, or to show him any marks
of attention. He looked out, half expecting to see his enemy approach,
but the latter had evidently taken up his abode in the further part of
the island, and kept out of his way.
Another night was approaching; it was necessary to collect some more
wood to keep in his fire, for should a cloudy day come on, he would have
no means of relighting it. At last, seeing the necessity of exerting
himself, he got up, intending to fill two of the largest clam shells he
had picked up with water, which might serve to quench his thirst during
the night. Directly he rose to his feet, Neptune showed his
satisfaction by leaping about him, and barked with joy when he found
that he was directing his steps towards the fountain. On arriving at
it, both he and the dog drank their fill, then placing the shells by its
side, he set to work to collect fire-wood. There was no great amount of
fallen sticks, and it took him some time before he could pick up a
sufficient quantity.
As formerly, he observed in the distance the smoke of a fire, which he
felt sure had been kindled by Hargrave. The dog, by pulling his
trousers, attempted to draw him in that direction.
"No, no; we will not go and interfere with the fellow. He'll fancy that
we want his assistance, or are begging for some of the food he may have
obtained. We must show him that we can do very well by ourselves," he
said, addressing his dog. Fastening the sticks to his back by a piece
of rope he had picked up, and taking the two clam shells in his hand, he
set off to return to the cave. He had gone a short distance without
thinking of Neptune, when on looking round he found that the dog had
disappeared.
"Where can the animal have gone to?" he exclaimed. "Has he deserted me
for the sake of that scoundrel? If he has, when he comes back I'll tie
him up and teach him that he must not associate with my enemy."
On reaching the cave he sat down more oppressed even than before by
gloomy thoughts. He believed that the _Marie_ had been cast away on a
remote island, near which no English ship was likely to pass, and that
he might remain there for months, perhaps for years, without having an
opportunity of escaping, even should he live so long; but he felt so
sick and weak that he feared his existence would soon be cut short.
"Perhaps," he thought, "that young Hargrave may take it into his head to
murder me. What is there, to prevent him? All that he has to do is to
bury me in the sand, with the rest of the poor fellows. And if
questions are asked, he could say I was cast lifeless on the shore, or
died afterwards from sickness, and such, judging from my sensations, is
very likely to be the case."
The pangs of hunger aroused him. As there was sufficient daylight
remaining, he went down to the rocks and cut off a few more shell-fish.
The task was so hard a one that he did not collect more than he
required. He had slightly improved in the art of cooking them, but he
much wished that he had some pepper and salt to make them more
palatable. They were nearly cooked, when he saw Neptune scampering
along the beach towards him, with something in his mouth. The dog
approaching laid it down at his feet, and Lord Reginald discovered that
it was a beautiful pigeon.
"Is that what you left me for?" he exclaimed, highly delighted, patting
the dog. "This will be far better than those dreadful clams which I
could hardly swallow, and which when swallowed made me feel as if I had
eaten lead."
Neptune wagged his tail, as much as to say, "I am very glad, master, I
have brought you something you like." The puzzle was now how to cook
the bird. At first he thought of putting it in a clam shell to bake.
He had actually placed it on the fire, feathers and all, when he
remembered that it must be plucked. This he did in a somewhat awkward
fashion. Then he recollected seeing pictures of camp fires, with
animals spitted on sticks roasting before them. He selected such from
the heap near him as would serve his purpose. Peeling one with his
knife, he ran it through the bird, then placed it on two forked sticks,
which he stuck in the ground. This done he raked the ashes of the fire
beneath the bird close round it, and began turning his spit with his
hand. It was hot work, and exercised all his patience. At last he saw
that the bird was becoming browner and browner. He was satisfied that
he was cooking it in the right fashion. Neptune lay down with his paws
out, watching the process. Lord Reginald was too hungry to wait, and
taking it off the spit he put it into a clam shell to serve as a dish,
and began eagerly eating it. Though, from being just killed, and
underdone, it was somewhat tough, it afforded him a far more
satisfactory meal than any he had tasted since he had reached the
island. He would have been wise had he reserved a portion for next
morning's breakfast, but without consideration, after he had satisfied
his hunger, he threw the remainder to Neptune, who gobbled it up in a
few seconds.
Being now perfectly dark, having made up his fire he retired to his
cave, where, with a piece of wood which he had brought up from the shore
for his pillow, he lay down to sleep with Neptune by his side. He knew
that his faithful dog would keep watch, and that he need have no fear of
being attacked by any wild beasts which might exist in the island. It
was some time before he could go to sleep, but at length, overcome by
fatigue and mental anxiety, he dropped into an unquiet slumber.
It appeared to him that he was dreaming or thinking the whole night
through. Great was his surprise to find it broad daylight when he
awoke. Instead of the hurricane which had lately blown, there was a
perfect calm, though the smooth undulations broke in a line of foam
along the beach where it was not protected by rocks. His fire had gone
out, but he had no difficulty in lighting it by means of his burning
glass. His first care was to make it up. He then set off to collect
some more shellfish.
He had got down to the shores of the little bay which has been before
described, and was scrambling along the reef, when his eye fell on a
figure apparently clinging to a cleft of the rock on the opposite side,
just above high-water mark. The figure seemed to move. Taking out his
small telescope he watched it eagerly, trying also to discover some
means of getting to the spot. He at once saw by the dress that the
figure was that of young Lucas. Was it possible that he was still
alive? He feared not. He lost no time in returning to the beach, and
then made his way along the rocks until he descended to the point where
he had seen his shipmate. A glance at the features told him that the
midshipman was dead, and had probably been washed up by the sea into the
cleft of the rock. How to remove the body was now the question. He
could not let it remain there festering in the hot sun, and it seemed
impossible for him to carry it over the rough rocks on his shoulders.
At last he thought he might tow it to the shore. There were plenty of
materials for forming a raft. He soon lashed a few pieces of wreck
together, when, having launched them, he took off his clothes and towed
them out. Had it not been for the uniform he could not have
distinguished his young shipmate. Extricating the body, not without
difficulty, from the cleft of the rock in which it had been fixed, he
lowered it down to the raft. Then taking the end of the tow-rope in
hand, he began to swim towards the beach. The raft was heavy, and so
weak did he feel that he was afraid he should be unable to reach the
shore with his melancholy freight.
He was puffing and blowing away, and making but slow progress, when he
saw Neptune--who had disappeared in the same mysterious way as he had
done on the previous day--coming scampering along the beach. He called
the dog, who with a bound plunged in and swam towards him. He placed
the tow-rope in the mouth of the animal, who, seeming to know perfectly
well what to do, swam with it towards the shore, allowing his master to
rest his hand on his back. He thus, in a much shorter time than would
otherwise have been possible, reached the beach. He felt so fatigued
that he had to rest while the hot sun dried his body, before he could
again put on his clothes.
Neptune, who was now aware of the freight he had brought ashore, waited
as if to see what more was required of him. Suddenly he seemed to
recollect that he had another duty to perform, and running back to the
spot from which he had leapt into the water, he took up a pigeon, which
he brought to his master.
"You are a wonderful dog," said Lord Reginald, patting his head. "How
have you managed to catch this bird?"
He would gladly have got through the painful task he had set himself,
but the pangs of hunger made him determine to cook the bird first.
Following the plan he had adopted on the previous evening, he soon had
it plucked and spitted. As he opened the crop he was surprised to see
three large nuts drop to the ground, which split as they fell; it seemed
wonderful that the pigeon could have swallowed them, large as they were.
The kernels, which he put into the fire and roasted, were especially
nice and served instead of bread. Neptune, as before, came in for the
remainder of the bird. He ate it up, but not greedily, as if he was in
want of food. "The rogue has been catering for himself, I suspect I
hope that he may bring me something for dinner, for though a pigeon a
day is something, sufficient to keep body and soul together, I shall
require more to retain my strength." As he again rose a sensation of
lassitude oppressed him. He felt very much disinclined for the painful
task he had undertaken. It must be done, however, and rousing himself
he seized the wooden spade he had before used, and set to work to dig a
grave near that of Voules. He had not long been engaged in his task,
when looking up he saw Richard Hargrave approaching. This at once made
him suspect that he had been watched by his rival, although he had not
discovered him.
"I don't like to see you engaged in that sort of work; it is as much my
duty as yours," said Dick. "So I have come to help you."
"I shan't require your aid," answered Lord Reginald, haughtily; "you can
bury any of the men you may find, but I choose to bury this young
officer myself."
"Very well, do as you like," said Dick, indignant at having his
well-meant offer refused. "I thought as we had both suffered a common
misfortune, you would have been glad of the society and assistance of a
fellow-creature."
"You don't suppose that any common misfortune would bring me down to
your level?" exclaimed Lord Reginald. "I don't require either your
sympathy or your assistance; all I desire is that you should keep out of
my way, and remember that I am still your officer."
"I remember that you were once my officer, and that as such you took
every opportunity to show your ill-feelings towards me, or allowed
others to do so. One of them lies there, and unless you exercise such
sense as you have got, you'll soon take your place by his side. I speak
plainly, but I speak the truth. Except the few shell-fish, and the
couple of cocoanuts you have picked up, you have been unable to procure
any food for yourself."
"You are wrong there," said Lord Reginald; "my faithful dog has catered
for me, and I have no doubt he will continue to do so; but I do not
choose to waste words on you. Be off, and look after your own affairs."
Dick laughed scornfully. "Do you suppose that the dog would have got
those birds by himself?" he asked. "You give him credit for more
cleverness than he possesses."
"I have told you I do not desire to hold any conversation with you,"
said Lord Reginald, not inquiring for an explanation of the last remark
Dick had made, though it somewhat puzzled him.
"You must take the consequences of your obstinacy, then!" exclaimed
Dick, walking away with as haughty an air as Lord Reginald himself could
have assumed.
The poor young lord resumed his uncongenial occupation, which Dick's
appearance had interrupted. The grave was dug, and the body of the
midshipman dragged into it. He lost no time in covering it up, as it
was painful to look upon those features, once so full of life and
animation. "Are we two, then, the only survivors from the _Marie_?"
exclaimed Lord Reginald. "I wish that some one else had been saved,
though I now know for certain that the only ones with whom I could have
associated are dead!"
Instead of setting to work to try and improve his condition, oppressed
with lassitude, he lay for the remainder of the day in front of his
cave, doing nothing.
Neptune remained by him for some time, then apparently getting weary of
inaction, after playing about on the sand, scampered off into the
interior.
"I hope that he has gone to get me another pigeon, or something else,"
said Lord Reginald, when he found that the dog had disappeared.
"Sagacious brute, he knows my wants, and is sure to bring me something."
Hour after hour, however, passed by, and he began to get very hungry.
The dog did not return, and evening was approaching. He at last got up,
and set off for the spring, to obtain a draught of water, and hoping to
find at all events another cocoanut in the palm grove, where he had
procured the others. Having drunk as much water as he required, he
searched about. Though numbers of cocoanuts grew on the trees above his
head, he could not find one fallen to the ground. There were a few
husks, which had been broken open and their contents abstracted. He
looked about, expecting to see his dog. Neptune did not make his
appearance. All he could do therefore, was to collect some more sticks
to keep up his fire, after which he obtained some clams from the
seashore, off which, though imperfectly cooked, he was fain to make his
supper. He had just finished when he saw Neptune coming towards him,
not scampering along as usual, but advancing slowly, with his tail
between his legs. Lord Reginald looked out eagerly for the pigeon, but
Neptune's mouth had nothing in it. "What, my good dog, have you been
unsuccessful in your hunting?" he said. "It is a bad look-out for me,
as I shall have nothing but these clams. However, you shall share them
with me."
When, however, he offered the shell-fish to the dog, he refused to eat
them, and, looking ashamed of himself, crouched down by his side.
Another night passed away. When the young lord tried to get up in the
morning, his limbs ached, and he found himself much weaker than before.
He became somewhat alarmed. "If this goes on I don't know how it will
end," he said to himself. "It is evident that the clams do not agree
with me; however, as I have nothing else, I must eat some for
breakfast."
In spite of the pain he was suffering, he crawled down to the beach, and
collected as many as he thought he and his dog would require. Bringing
them back, and making up his fire, he tried to cook them with more care
than before. But they tasted like so many pieces of salted leather, and
he could with difficulty swallow them. Neptune ate a few; they were
evidently not much to his taste. He soon showed signs of a wish to get
away from his master. Twice he started off, but Lord Reginald called
him back.
"Come, old dog, we will go and hunt together, and I hope that we shall
be more successful than before," he said, at length getting up, and
taking a stick to support himself. Sick as he was, he thought a bath
would refresh him. He accordingly went down to the bay, and taking off
his clothes waded in. The cool water had the effect he expected. He
thought he might venture to swim out to a little distance. The dog
followed him, keeping close to his side. He had not got far when
Neptune uttered a bark, very different in tone to that which he usually
emitted. It appeared to be indicative of alarm, and Lord Reginald,
looking ahead, saw a black fin rising above the water. He immediately
turned, and swam with all his might back to the beach, expecting every
instant to feel his leg seized by a shark, for he knew too well that the
black fin belonged to one of the monsters of the deep. Nep continued
close to him, though he might have got ahead, but the moment he touched
the beach he scampered up it, and then turned round and barked
furiously, leaping and splashing about in the shallow water. Lord
Reginald also, as soon as his feet touched the sand, waded out as fast
as his strength would allow, and did not stop until he reached dry
ground. Scarcely had he landed, than a pair of huge jaws appeared above
the surface, making directly for the dog. But Neptune was too active to
be caught, though he had a narrow escape. Lord Reginald, exhausted by
the exertions he had made, sank on the sand. Some minutes passed before
he could manage to put on his clothes. It was a warning to him not to
bathe in future in the bay.
As soon as he had somewhat recovered, again taking his stick in hand he
set off, as he had before intended, for the fountain. He felt much
refreshed, after taking a draught of pure water and washing his face and
head in it, and was sufficiently strong, he thought, to make an
exploring expedition through the island, to ascertain its size, and
whether he could obtain more food than the sea-shore afforded. Finding
an accessible hill he toiled up it. From the summit, he obtained a view
over the larger portion of the island. It was generally volcanic and
barren. The hill on which he stood formed the side of a volcano, but
whether active or not, he could not determine. It was destitute of
vegetation, and was covered with black lava, which, from being hard and
smooth, he supposed had long been exposed to the atmosphere. There
were, however, level spots, in which grew a number of tropical trees,
and he could see far off, a broad valley, through which a stream
meandered. He looked round for signs of inhabitants, but could discover
no huts or buildings of any sort, or traces of cultivation. In the far
distance, round a point which ran out to the southward, beyond the spot
where the _Marie_ had been wrecked, he saw a wreath of smoke ascending
through the pure air. This, he had no doubt, rose from Richard
Hargrave's fire. Descending the hill, he made his way along a valley,
which was of far greater extent than the one he had just discovered near
his cave. He was struck with the number of birds--some of beautiful
plumage, and others resembling barn door fowls, which were running about
among the trees, picking up seeds and fruits fallen from the lofty
boughs. He caught sight of some small deer, but the moment they saw
him, they scampered off as fleet as the wind. Further off he came upon
a small herd of queer-looking pigs. They took to flight, and although
Neptune made chase, they quickly distanced him. Presently he heard a
chattering above his head, and looking up he saw a number of very small
monkeys, grinning out at him from among the boughs. Impulsively he
threw his stick at one of the nearest, but the monkey saw it coming, and
quickly getting out of the way, clambered with its companions to the
higher boughs, where a bullet alone could have reached it.
"There's game enough here to support a ship's company," he thought; "but
they only appear to tantalise me, and I may be doomed to starve in the
midst of abundance." Among the birds were numerous white cockatoos
which flew over his head, but as he approached took good care to keep
out of his way, while green pigeons, similar to those Neptune had
brought him, were in great numbers, and evidently less timid. Some flew
close to him, or remained perched on the boughs, but though he threw his
stick at several, he failed to bring one down.
"I wonder that this island, like others in the neighbourhood, is not
inhabited." The thought then occurred to him that the volcano had
either driven the natives away, or prevented them from occupying it,
although the fertility of the valley through which he was walking showed
that it was capable of supporting a tolerably numerous population.
He went on and on, interested in the objects he saw, and almost
forgetting his fatigue, being able occasionally to quench his thirst at
the stream along the banks of which he made his way. He cast a longing
eye at several fruits hanging from the boughs of trees of the palm
species, but they were all beyond his reach, and no way occurred to him
of getting at them. The chief inconvenience he suffered was from the
want of a hat, as the sun beat down with intense force on his head, but
although he had seen Richard Hargrave wearing one, it did not occur to
him that he might manufacture a similar protection. He at length
remembered his white handkerchief, which he tied round his head, placing
several layers of leaves beneath it, to add to its thickness. This
somewhat relieved him, but did not shelter his eyes and face. At last
he reached a hill of slight elevation, to the top of which he climbed.
It overlooked a small picturesque bay. On the nearest point was a large
mass of wreck, apparently the bows of the ship, which, when she parted,
had been driven there by the current and the fury of the hurricane.
On one side, though at no great distance from the shore, was a neat hut,
at which a person was working, whom he felt sure was Richard Hargrave.
Neptune, on seeing him, bounded off without asking his master's leave,
and Lord Reginald, to his intense disgust, saw the dog rush up and lick
the hand of his rival, who patted him, then going into the hut, quickly
came out with some pieces of meat, which he gave to the dog.
The sight exasperated the young lord, so that, not considering the folly
of what he was about, hurrying down the hill, he made his way towards
Dick.
The latter, who had mounted a ladder to continue his work, turning his
head, saw him coming, and descended to meet him.
"You scoundrel!" exclaimed the young lord, his features distorted with
anger. "You are trying to entice my dog from me by giving him food,
which you might at all events have had the grace to offer to me, your
officer."
"I have no wish to entice your dog from you!" answered Dick; "and I
would advise you to calm your anger, and listen to reason. I sent you
two pigeons I trapped, by your dog, first giving him a hearty meal, that
he might not eat them on the way, and from your own lips I know that you
received them, though you had not the grace to thank me, and declared
that you could do very well without my assistance; so I left you to look
after yourself, though I hadn't the heart to refuse to feed your dog,
when I knew you would have nothing to give him."
"That's false!" exclaimed Lord Reginald. "I know full well that your
object was to deprive me of my dog, for the faithful animal--though his
instinct induces him to take the food--managed to break away from you,
and to return to me, and had you really wished to assist me you might
have sent some more of those pigeons, or any other provisions you have
obtained."
"It's of no use arguing with an angry man," retorted Dick. "You accuse
me of uttering falsehoods. Again I assure you that I have spoken but
the simple truth, and say that, as you have obstinately refused my
assistance, you must take the consequences."
"Impertinent scoundrel!" cried Lord Reginald. "You dare to speak to me
thus! I desire you not again to feed my dog, or to let him remain if he
comes to you. He and I must forage for ourselves, and there's game
enough in the island, so I shall be able to catch as much as I require
for myself and him."
"As you please," said Dick, turning aside, and whistling as he went on
with his work, which the arrival of Lord Reginald had interrupted.
The young lord, calling Neptune, who seemed very unwilling to leave,
walked off, foaming with anger, and muttering, "I must put a stop to
this, or it is impossible to say what he will next do!" As he reached
the top of the hill, he could not refrain from turning round, to watch
the proceedings of his rival.
Dick had built a good-sized hut under the shade of a grove of trees, and
had dug up the ground in an open space near it, to form a garden, which
he had begun to rail in. "The fellow seems determined to make himself
at home, as if he expected to live here for years to come. A low-born
fellow has mechanical talents such as I don't possess; they certainly
give him an advantage over me, under the circumstances in which we are
placed, but I must see what I can do for myself. My cave has only
hitherto afforded me shelter, but should the wind blow strong and
directly into it, I should not find it a comfortable abode. I must try
and build a hut for myself. I don't see why I shouldn't, though it
might not be so well finished as his. But there's wreck enough on the
shore for the purpose, though I shall be puzzled how to get it up. Then
about providing myself with food, I'll make a bow and arrows; I shall
then be able to shoot some birds, or perhaps a deer, and occasionally a
pig. Anything would be better than being beholden to that fellow. It
is important that I should show how independent I am of him."
Such thoughts occupied the young lord's mind as he continued his walk
along the valley, Neptune every now and then giving chase to a deer or a
hog, but the animals scampered off, soon leaving him far behind, and on
each occasion he came slinking back to his master, greatly disconcerted
at his want of success.
"I see, poor fellow, you are not more likely to catch one of those
creatures than I am," he said. "We must try what we can do in some
other way. We need not starve in the midst of abundance, that's very
certain." He looked about carefully on every side for a young sapling
or a tree of some flexible character of which he might form a bow, but
he was too ignorant of their nature to know which to select.
"I must try them first, perhaps I shall hit upon one which will answer
my purpose."
At last he came to a small straight stem. "This will do, at all
events," he thought, and he set to work with his knife to cut it down.
As the knife was blunt, he made but slow progress. Even when it was
down, he would have to pare off the lower part, so as to make it of the
same size as the upper. At length by cutting round and round, he made a
notch of sufficient depth to enable him to break off the stem.
Shouldering his prize, he walked on to the cave, which he thought would
be cooler than any other spot.
Poor Nep followed him, wondering what was going to happen. On measuring
the sapling he found that he might have cut it much higher up and saved
himself a great deal of trouble. The bow, were he to use it of its
present length, would be much too long. He had therefore to remedy this
by cutting off two feet at the bottom end. He then peeled it and began
shaping the stick by paring off the thicker end. He had shaped it very
much to his satisfaction, before it occurred to him to try and bend the
bow. What was his annoyance to find, on making the attempt, that bend
it would not. It would have formed a very good lance, had he retained
the full length, but it was useless for a bow. Again and again he tried
to bend it. Using all his force, he felt it yield in his hand, and
presently it snapped across. He threw it to the ground with an
exclamation of disgust, and for a few minutes felt utterly dispirited.
"I ought to have tried it first to ascertain whether it was of the
nature of the yew. Surely savages in this region use bows. There must
be wood suited for the purpose, so that if I can find it, I ought to be
able to make as good a bow as they can."
While occupied he had not felt hungry, but as he began to move about, he
was reminded by his sensations that he must find something to eat. He
felt a dislike to making another meal off the shell-fish, but he knew
that unless he should be successful in catching some bird or animal he
would be compelled to do so. Neptune also showed that he was conscious
of the necessity of providing for the inner man. The moment he saw his
master get up, he bounded forward, leaping and frisking about to
encourage him to proceed.
Poor Lord Reginald, as he walked on after the dog, felt downcast and
faint. By going to Richard Hargrave and apologising for his conduct, he
might have obtained all he required, but he would rather starve than do
that.
As he reached the valley he saw a large number of white cockatoos and
green pigeons flying about, and preparing to roost for the night.
"If I can manage to steal on some of those fellows at night, I might
catch a few; that, perhaps, is the way Hargrave gets them."
But that was a long time to wait with the possibility of not succeeding,
and so Neptune thought, for he went ranging far and wide, evidently
looking for food.
Going to the fountain, Lord Reginald took a draught of cold water,
hoping that it might stay his hunger. Though it somewhat refreshed him,
he soon became more eager than ever for food, and sat down on the bank
to consider how he could possibly obtain it. In vain he had thrown
sticks and stones at birds. Perhaps he might form some traps, as he
knew that such means were used for catching birds, but how to construct
them was the puzzle. He turned the matter over and over again in his
mind, and discovered that he had no inventive genius. "I shall have to
go back to the shellfish, after all," he said, with a sigh; "but I must
get a stick for a bow. I will try two or three, out of which one surely
will answer the purpose."
Weak as he was, he again got up, and searching about for the sort of
wood he wanted, he fixed on a couple of saplings and the branch of a
tree. He intended to make the string by untwisting some of the rope
from the wreck, while there were plenty of reeds by the side of the
stream which he thought would serve as arrows, though how to form heads
he had not yet decided. He hoped that by working away by the light of
his fire, he might get a bow finished before the morning.
He intended to test the sticks before bestowing labour on any of them,
but in the mean time it was absolutely necessary to get some food, for
he felt so weak that he could scarcely drag himself back to his cave.
Nep was certainly of the same opinion in regard to the necessity of
finding provisions, as he continued hunting round and round in all
directions, occasionally stopping and barking eagerly at a monkey, which
looked down at him from a high branch, or at an opossum, to one of which
he gave chase, but the creature got up a tree before he could reach it,
and from its hollow kept looking at the strange animal which had invaded
its native domains. At last Lord Reginald saw Nep run to the top of a
mound, which he observed in an open space in the wood. It appeared to
be composed of sticks, dead leaves, stones, rotten wood, earth, and
rubbish of all sorts. The mound was between five and six feet high, and
fully twelve feet across. He thought it must be the grave of some of
the aborigines who had once inhabited the island, but the dog was
evidently of opinion that it contained something worth looking after, as
he began scratching away with might and main, in so eager a manner, that
Lord Reginald was induced to go up and ascertain what he was about.
Nep had already dug a deep hole, and on looking into it, his master saw,
to his surprise and satisfaction, a number of eggs as large as those of
a swan, of a red brick colour. Stooping down, he eagerly picked up one
of them, which he broke and found that it was perfectly sweet. Here was
a storehouse, which would supply him with an abundance of excellent
food.
Having collected as many eggs as he could carry in his handkerchief,
calling Nep, who seemed in no way disposed to leave the treasure, he set
off for his cave. Making up his fire, he put three of his eggs under
the ashes to cook, the only way he could think of to dress them, while
he ate a portion of the one he had broken, which, though raw, was
palatable, and contributed to allay the pangs of hunger. The remainder
he gave to Nep, who eagerly gobbled it up, showing how hungry he had
become.
That the eggs were laid by birds, he had no doubt, though of what
species they were he was unable to determine. He resolved, however, to
return next morning, and to wait near the spot, supposing that they must
be large birds, and that he should be able to kill one, which would
afford him ample food for a day or two. "I shall then be as well off as
that fellow Hargrave," he thought to himself, "and I at all events shall
be independent of him."
Having finished his supper, he commenced making a bow. One only of the
sticks appeared suitable for the purpose. On bending it, back it sprang
with considerable force. While still working away by the light of his
waning fire, sleep so completely overpowered him, that he let fall his
knife, and the stick of his bow by his side, while his head bent down
over his breast. When he awoke, his fire was almost out, and as he
could see to work no more, he crept back into his cave, where he lay
down to sleep, with Nep, as usual, by his side.