Strange peculiarity of the tides--Also of the twilight--Peterkin's
remarkable conduct in embracing a little pig and killing a big
sow--Sage remarks on jesting--Also on love.
It was quite a relief to us to breathe the pure air and to enjoy the
glad sunshine after our long ramble in the Diamond Cave, as we named
it; for although we did not stay more than half-an-hour away, it seemed
to us much longer. While we were dressing, and during our walk home, we
did our best to satisfy the curiosity of poor Peterkin, who seemed to
regret, with lively sincerity, his inability to dive.
There was no help for it, however, so we condoled with him as we best
could. Had there been any great rise or fall in the tide of these seas,
we might perhaps have found it possible to take him down with us at low
water; but as the tide never rose as fell more than eighteen inches or
two feet, this was impossible.
This peculiarity of the tide--its slight rise and fall--had not
attracted our observation till some time after our residence on the
island. Neither had we observed another curious circumstance until we
had been some time there. This was the fact that the tide rose and fell
with constant regularity, instead of being affected by the changes of
the moon as in our own country, and as it is in most other parts of the
world--at least in all those parts with which I am acquainted. Every
day and every night, at twelve o'clock precisely, the tide is at the
full; and at six o'clock every morning and evening it is ebb. I can
speak with much confidence on this singular circumstance, as we took
particular note of it, and never found it to alter. Of course, I must
admit, we had to guess the hour of twelve midnight, and I think we
could do this pretty correctly; but in regard to twelve noon we are
quite positive, because we easily found the highest point that the sun
reached in the sky by placing ourselves at a certain spot whence we
observed the sharp summit of a cliff resting against the sky, just
where the sun passed.
Jack and I were surprised that we had not noticed this the first few
days of our residence here, and could only account for it by our being
so much taken up with the more obvious wonders of our novel situation.
I have since learned, however, that this want of observation is a sad
and very common infirmity of human nature, there being hundreds of
persons before whose eyes the most wonderful things are passing every
day, who nevertheless are totally ignorant of them. I therefore have to
record my sympathy with such persons, and to recommend to them a course
of conduct which I have now for a long time myself adopted--namely, the
habit of forcing my attention upon _all_ things that go on around me,
and of taking some degree of interest in them, whether I feel it
naturally or not. I suggest this the more earnestly, though humbly,
because I have very frequently come to know that my indifference to a
thing has generally been caused by my ignorance in regard to it.
We had much serious conversation on this subject of the tides; and Jack
told us, in his own quiet, philosophical way, that these tides did
great good to the world in many ways, particularly in the way of
cleansing the shores of the land, and carrying off the filth that was
constantly poured into the sea therefrom; which, Peterkin suggested,
was remarkably _tidy_ of it to do. Poor Peterkin could never let slip
an opportunity to joke, however inopportune it might be: which at first
we found rather a disagreeable propensity, as it often interrupted the
flow of very agreeable conversation--and, indeed, I cannot too strongly
record my disapprobation of this tendency in general--but we became so
used to it at last that we found it no interruption whatever; indeed,
strange to say, we came to feel that it was a necessary part of our
enjoyment (such is the force of habit), and found the sudden outbursts
of mirth, resulting from his humorous disposition, quite natural and
refreshing to us in the midst of our more serious conversations. But I
must not misrepresent Peterkin. We often found, to our surprise, that
he knew many things which we did not; and I also observed that those
things which he learned from experience were never forgotten. From all
these things I came at length to understand that things very opposite
and dissimilar in themselves, when united, do make an agreeable whole;
as, for example, we three on this our island, although most unlike in
many things, when united, made a trio so harmonious that I question if
there ever met before such an agreeable triumvirate. There was, indeed,
no note of discord whatever in the symphony we played together on that
sweet Coral Island; and I am now persuaded that this was owing to our
having been all tuned to the same key, namely, that of _love!_ Yes, we
loved one another with much fervency while we lived on that island;
and, for the matter of that, we love each other still.
And while I am on this subject, or rather the subject that just
preceded it--namely, the tides--I may here remark on another curious
natural phenomenon. We found that there was little or no twilight in
this island. We had a distinct remembrance of the charming long
twilight at home, which some people think the most delightful part of
the day, though for my part I have always preferred sunrise; and when
we first landed, we used to sit down on some rocky point or eminence,
at the close of our day's work, to enjoy the evening breeze; but no
sooner had the sun sunk below the horizon than all became suddenly
dark. This rendered it necessary that we should watch the sun when we
happened to be out hunting; for to be suddenly left in the dark while
in the woods was very perplexing, as, although the stars shone with
great beauty and brilliancy, they could not pierce through the thick
umbrageous boughs that interlaced above our heads.
But to return: after having told all we could to Peterkin about the
Diamond Cave under Spouting Cliff, as we named the locality, we were
wending our way rapidly homewards, when a grunt and a squeal were borne
down by the land breeze to our ears.
"That's the ticket!" was Peterkin's remarkable exclamation, as he
started convulsively and levelled his spear.
"Hist!" cried Jack; "these are your friends, Peterkin. They must have
come over expressly to pay you a friendly visit, for it is the first
time we have seen them on this side the island."
"Come along!" cried Peterkin, hurrying towards the wood, while Jack and
I followed, smiling at his impatience.
Another grunt and half-a-dozen squeals, much louder than before, came
down the valley. At this time we were just opposite the small vale
which lay between the Valley of the Wreck and Spouting Cliff.
"I say, Peterkin," cried Jack in a hoarse whisper.
"Well, what is't?"
"Stay a bit, man. These grunters are just up there on the hillside. If
you go and stand with Ralph in the lee of yon cliff, I'll cut round
behind and drive them through the gorge, so that you'll have a better
chance of picking out a good one. Now, mind you pitch into a fat young
pig, Peterkin," added Jack, as he sprang into the bushes.
"Won't I, just!" said Peterkin, licking his lips, as we took our
station beside the cliff. "I feel quite a tender affection for young
pigs in my heart. Perhaps it would be more correct to say in my s--"
"There they come!" cried I, as a terrific yell from Jack sent the whole
herd screaming down the hill. Now Peterkin, being unable to hold back,
crept a short way up a very steep, grassy mound, in order to get a
better view of the hogs before they came up; and just as he raised his
head above its summit, two little pigs, which had outrun their
companions, rushed over the top with the utmost precipitation. One of
these brushed close past Peterkin's ear; the other, unable to arrest
its headlong flight, went, as Peterkin himself afterwards expressed it,
"bash" into his arms with a sudden squeal, which was caused more by the
force of the blow than the will of the animal, and both of them rolled
violently down to the foot of the mound. No sooner was this reached
than the little pig recovered its feet, tossed up its tail, and fled
shrieking from the spot. But I slung a large stone after it, which,
being fortunately well aimed, hit it behind the ear, and felled it to
the earth.
"Capital, Ralph! that's your sort!" cried Peterkin, who, to my
surprise, and great relief, had risen to his feet apparently unhurt,
though much dishevelled. He rushed franticly towards the gorge, which
the yells of the hogs told us they were now approaching. I had made up
my mind that I would abstain from killing another, as, if Peterkin
should be successful, two were more than sufficient for our wants at
the present time. Suddenly they all burst forth--two or three little
round ones in advance, and an enormous old sow with a drove of hogs at
her heels.
"Now, Peterkin," said I, "there's a nice little fat one; just spear it."
But Peterkin did not move; he allowed it to pass unharmed. I looked at
him in surprise, and saw that his lips were compressed and his eyebrows
knitted, as if he were about to fight with some awful enemy.
"What is it?" I inquired, with some trepidation.
Suddenly he levelled his spear, darted forward, and, with a yell that
nearly froze the blood in my veins, stabbed the old sow to the heart.
Nay, so vigorously was it done that the spear went in at one side and
came out at the other!
"O Peterkin," said I, going up to him, "what have you done"?
_Done?_ "I've killed their great-great-grandmother, that's all," said
he, looking with a somewhat awe-struck expression at the transfixed
animal.
"Hallo! what's this?" said Jack, as he came up. "Why, Peterkin, you
must be fond of a tough chop. If you mean to eat this old hog, she'll
try your jaws, I warrant. What possessed you to stick _her,_ Peterkin?"
"Why, the fact is, I want a pair of shoes."
"What have your shoes to do with the old hog?" said I, smiling.
"My present shoes have certainly nothing to do with her," replied
Peterkin; "nevertheless, she will have a good deal to do with my future
shoes. The fact is, when I saw you floor that pig so neatly, Ralph, it
struck me that there was little use in killing another. Then I
remembered all at once that I had long wanted some leather or tough
substance to make shoes of, and this old grandmother seemed so tough
that I just made up my mind to stick her, and you see I've done it!"
"That you certainly have, Peterkin," said Jack, as he was examining the
transfixed animal.
We now considered how we were to carry our game home, for, although the
distance was short, the hog was very heavy. At length we hit on the
plan of tying its four feet together, and passing the spear handle
between them. Jack took one end on his shoulder, I took the other on
mine, and Peterkin carried the small pig.
Thus we returned in triumph to our bower, laden, as Peterkin remarked,
with the glorious spoils of a noble hunt. As he afterwards spoke in
similarly glowing terms in reference to the supper that followed, there
is every reason to believe that we retired that night to our leafy beds
in a high state of satisfaction.