CHAPTER XVII.

THE MURDER.

About five years ago (I think he said it was in 1844), a murder was

committed on the island by the father of one of the present Chilian

residents. Pearce was then in Valparaiso, and had a statement of the

circumstances from some of the parties concerned in it.

[Illustration: TRAGIC FATE OF THE SCOTCHMAN.]

A Scotch sailor, it appeared, deserted from a vessel that touched at the

island for wood and water. For a time he concealed himself in a cave

among the cliffs near the bay. When the vessel sailed, he came down into

the valley and built himself a hut out of straw, in which he resided

several months alone. By fishing, and catching wild goats in traps, he

supported himself comfortably, and was becoming reconciled to his

isolated life, when a family of Chilians, consisting of five or six men

and women, under the control of an old Spaniard, father-in-law of one of

the younger men, came over about this period in a small trading vessel

from Massafuero. They had been living there for some time, but thought

they could do better in Juan Fernandez. There were no huts standing

there then except that belonging to the sailor. The Chilians prevailed

upon him to let them occupy a part of his house, promising to build

themselves one as soon as they could cut straw and wood enough. Every

day they went out on the hill-sides to cut the straw, and they seemed to

be making good progress with their hut. One night the sailor, as he lay

in bed, overheard one of the Chilians say to the others, "We are

working hard every day, but it will be a long time before we can get a

house built. Neither will it be big enough for us all when we finish it.

This man is nothing but a heretic, therefore it would be no sin to take

his life. Let us kill him, and then we can have his house, which has

other buildings to it, without the trouble of doing any more work." The

others agreed to this, all except one woman, who said God would never

suffer them to prosper if they committed such a deed. However, they

silenced her by threats, and then talked further upon the best means of

murdering the Scotchman. Having been a beach-comber for many years in

Spanish countries, he understood the language, and it so happened that

he overheard nearly every word. Being a powerful man, of great courage

and fierce temper, he sprang from his bed, and swore they must leave the

house at that very instant, or he would cut their throats. The woman he

would have spared this treatment, but he knew she would only fare the

worse for his protection. Finding him resolute, they took their things

and left the house; but after they were out in the dark, it being a

stormy night, they begged so hard for shelter that he told them they

might go into a shed, which he had built some distance off to keep goats

in. Here they remained, without daring to molest him, until their own

house was completed. In the mean time, the suspicions of the sailor were

lulled by their friendly behavior, and he often spent a part of his time

in social talk with them, which was the more agreeable inasmuch as the

old man's daughter, who had taken his part at first, fell in love with

him, and, although jealously watched by her husband, found frequent

chances of meeting him alone. He became much attached to her, as well on

account of her attempt to save his life as the charms of her person,

which were well calculated to excite admiration and kindle the amorous

flame. She was a very beautiful woman, a Chilian by birth, and was

married against her inclination; and coming from a country where the

marriage tie is not considered so sacred as it is in more northern

climes, she had but little scruple in yielding to her guilty love. His

manly person and bold bearing had attracted her in the first place, and

these stolen interviews only served to strengthen the passion that grew

up between them. At this period they were joined by an English sailor,

another deserter, who took up his quarters with the Chilians in their

new abode, and became a member of their gang. The Scotchman had refused,

from some dislike that he formed to this man on first sight, to take him

into his cabin. This led to a mutual hatred, which was soon increased by

other causes. The Englishman, struck by the beauty of the young woman,

whose affections the other had won, now made love to her on all

occasions, but she gave him no encouragement. He attributed his failure

to the Scotchman, whom he secretly watched. Fired with jealousy and

deadly hatred toward his rival, he resolved upon putting him to death by

stratagem, for he was too cowardly to undertake it openly. Having

learned the difficulty that had previously occurred, he took occasion to

tell the Chilians that the Scotchman was their mortal enemy, and only

awaited an opportunity to murder them all, so as to get entire

possession of the young woman, with whom he had already formed a guilty

connection. At this period three Americans deserted from a whale-ship

and joined the Scotchman. Through some accident, or most likely by foul

means, his hut took fire soon after, and was burnt to the ground. He and

his companions were obliged to move to a cave near by, where they

designed living till they could build another. Knowing nothing of the

schemes of the English sailor, who took care that it should not be found

out through the woman, they were ignorant of the hostile intention of

the Chilians, till one day, as they were scattered over the valley,

cutting wild oats for their cabin, the Englishman told the old man, who

was the leader of the Chilians, that he had overheard the other party

say they were going to murder them all that night; and prevailed upon

him to muster his men together secretly, and settle the matter at once.

They all went first to the cave, and took possession of the arms left

there by the Americans and their leader. The old man, followed at a

distance by his comrades, thereupon proceeded to the valley with a

loaded gun; and seeing the Scotchman at a distance from the others, he

stole upon him and shot him through the body with slugs. Badly wounded,

but not mortally, the Scotchman shouted to his friends that he was shot;

that they must follow him and fight for their lives, upon which he ran,

covered with blood, toward the cave, followed by the Americans. On

arriving there they found all their fire-arms gone: they fought for some

time with their knives, but were finally overpowered by the Chilian

party and bound hand and foot.

[Illustration: THE LOVERS.]

Next day it so happened that a whale-ship came into the harbor for wood

and water. The Americans were carried back some distance and hid among

the cliffs, with an armed guard over them, so that they might be out of

the way when the people from the ship came ashore; and the wounded man

was concealed in a cave. The Englishman then went on board with the old

Chilian, and told the captain that a deserter from a whale-ship, who had

been on the island some time, had undertaken to murder them, and they

had shot him in self-defense. Their story was plausibly told, and was

believed. They said the man was not dead, and they asked the captain to

take him away, as they wanted to get rid of him. The captain refused to

do this, saying he would have nothing to do with a deserter; if the man

got into trouble by his misconduct, he might get out of it the best way

he could. When the vessel sailed, which was the next day, the Chilians,

in compliance with the advice of the Englishman, took their wounded

prisoner out into an open space, and shot him through the heart. He fell

dead upon the spot. They then dug a hole in the ground and buried him;

and, in order to keep his spirit from rising upon them at night, they

erected a cross over the grave. The woman, upon hearing that her lover

was murdered, fell into a state of melancholy, and refused to taste any

food for many days. Such was her distress, that she wandered about the

cliffs like one bereft of her senses, and was often found at night

weeping upon his grave. Indeed, she never fully recovered, but was

always from that time weakly and unsettled in her mind.

[Illustration: GRAVE OF THE MURDERED MAN.]

Another vessel came into port in the course of a few months, and the

affair became known through the three Americans, who made their escape

and got on board. News of the murder was carried to Talcahuana by this

vessel; and as soon as it reached Valparaiso, a small Chilian cutter,

then lying in the harbor, was dispatched to the island of Juan Fernandez

to capture and bring home the murderers. On their arrival in Valparaiso

they were taken in irons to Santiago, the seat of government, where they

were tried and sentenced to be shot in the public plaza. Some of the

circumstances, considered palliating, became known before the execution

was carried into effect, and their punishment was commuted to five

years' banishment on the island of St. Felix.

The Chilian government still holds a penal settlement on that island.

All criminals of a desperate character are sent there and subjected to

hard labor. The term for which these murderers had been banished had

just expired (in 1849), and it was supposed by the present Chilian

residents that they would return by the first opportunity to Juan

Fernandez.

Crusoe's Island: A Ramble in the Footsteps of Alexander Selkirk With Sketches of Adventure in California and Washoe · 第 17 / 29 章