But the cyclone, terrible though it was, did not altogether put an end
to the Dumplin' picnic, if we may be allowed the phrase. It only
delayed it. As soon as the weather cleared up, that interesting event
came off.
"Who'll go by land and who'll go by water?" asked Thursday, when the
heads of houses were assembled in consultation on the morning of the
great day, for great it was in more ways than one in the annals of
Pitcairn.
"I'll go by water," said Charlie Christian, who was one of the "heads,"
inasmuch as he had been appointed to take charge of the hut which had
been nearly carried away.
"Does any one know how the girls are going?" asked Matt Quintal.
"I'm not sure," said John Adams, with one of those significant glances
for which he was noted. "I did hear say that Sally meant to go by land,
but, of course, I can't tell. Girls will be girls, you know, an'
there's no knowing when you have them."
"Well, perhaps the land road will be pleasanter," said Charlie. "Yes,
now I think of it, I'll go by land."
"I think, also," continued Adams, without noticing Charlie's remark,
"that some one said Bessy Mills was going by water."
"You're all wrong, Charlie, about the land road," said Matt Quintal;
"the water is far better. _I_ shall go by water."
"Dan'l, my lad," said Adams, addressing young McCoy, "which way did
_you_ say you'd go?"
"I didn't say I'd go any way, father," answered Dan.
"That may be so, lad, but you'll have to go one way or other."
"Not of necessity, father. Mightn't I stay at home and take care of the
pigs?"
"You might," said Adams, with a smile, "if you think they would be
suitable company for you. Well, now, the sooner we start the better. I
mean to go by water myself, for I'm gettin' rather stiff in the legs for
cliff-work. Besides, I promised to give Sarah Quintal a lesson in
deep-sea fishing, so she's goin' with me."
"Perhaps," observed Dan McCoy, after a pause, "I might as well go by
water too, and if you've no objection to take me in your canoe, I would
lend you a hand wi' the paddle. I would be suitable company for you,
father, you know, and I'm very anxious to improve in deep-sea fishin'."
"It don't take much fishin' to find out how the wind blows, you blessed
innocents," thought John Adams, with a quiet chuckle, which somewhat
disconcerted Dan; but he only said aloud, "Well, yes, you may come, but
only on condition that you swim alongside, for I mean to carry a cargo
of staggerers and sprawlers."
"There's only one staggerer and one sprawler now," said Dan, with a
laugh; "your own George and Toc's Dumplin'."
"Just so, but ain't these a host in themselves? You keep your tongue
under hatches, Dan, or I'll have to lash it to your jaw with a bit o'
rope-yarn."
"Oh, _what_ a yarn I'd spin with it if you did!" retorted the
incorrigible Dan. "But how are the jumpers to go, and where are they?"
"They may go as they please," returned Adams, as he led the way to the
footpath down the cliffs; "they went to help the women wi' the victuals,
an' I've no doubt are at their favourite game of slidin' on the waves."
He was right in this conjecture. While the younger women and girls of
the village were busy carrying the provisions to the beach, those active
little members of the community who were styled jumpers, and of whom
there were still half-a-dozen, were engaged in their favourite game. It
was conducted amid shouts and screams of delight, which rose above the
thunder of the mighty waves that rolled in grand procession into the
bay.
Ned Quintal, the stoutest and most daring, as well as the oldest of
these jumpers, being over eight years, was the best slider. He was on
the point of dashing into the sea when Adams and the others arrived on
the scene.
Clothed only with a little piece of tapa cloth formed into breeches
reaching to about the knees, his muscular little frame was shown to full
advantage, as he stood with streaming curly hair, having a thin board
under his arm, about three feet long, and shaped like a canoe.
He watched a mighty wave which was coming majestically towards him.
Just as it was on the point of falling, little Ned held up the board in
front of him, and with one vigorous leap dived right through the wave,
and came out at the other side. Thus he escaped being carried by it to
the shore, and swam over the rolling backs of the waves that followed it
until he got out to sea. Then, turning his face landward, he laid his
board on the water, and pushing it under himself, came slowly in,
watching for a larger wave than usual. As he moved along, little Billy
Young ranged alongside.
"Here's a big un, Billy," cried Ned, panting with excitement and
exertion, as he looked eagerly over his shoulder at a billow which
seemed big enough to have wrecked an East Indiaman.
Billy did not reply, for, having a spice of Dan McCoy's fun-loving
spirit in him, he was intent on giving Ned's board a tip and turning it
over.
As the wave came up under them, it began as it were to boil on the
surface, a sure sign that it was about to break. With a shout Ned
thrust his board along, and actually mounted it in a sitting posture.
Billy made a violent kick, missed his aim, lost hold of his own board,
and was left ignominiously behind. Ned, caught on the wave's crest, was
carried with a terrific rush towards the shore. He retained his
position for a few seconds, then tumbled over in the tumult of water,
but got the board under him again as he was swept along.
How that boy escaped being dashed to pieces on the rocks which studded
Bounty Bay is more than we can comprehend, much more, therefore, than we
can describe. Suffice it to say, that he arrived, somehow, on his legs,
and was turning to repeat the manoeuvre, when Adams called to him and
all the others to come ashore an' get their sailin' orders.
Things having been finally arranged, Adams said, "By the way, who's
stopping to take charge of poor Jimmy Young?"
A sympathetic look from every one and a sudden cessation of merriment
followed the question, for poor little James Young, the only invalid on
Pitcairn, was afflicted with a complaint somewhat resembling that which
carried off his father.
"Of course," continued Adams, "I know that my old 'ooman an' Mainmast
are with him, but I mean who of the young folk?"
"May Christian," said Sally, who had come down to see the water-party
start. "Two or three of us offered also to stay, father, but Jim
wouldn't hear of it, an' said he would cry all the time if we stayed.
He said that May was all he wanted."
"Dear little Jim," said Adams, "I do believe he's got more o' God's book
into him, small though he is, than all the rest of us put together. An'
he's not far wrong, neither, about May. She's worth a dozen or'nary
girls. Now then, lend a hand wi' the canoe. Are you ready, Mistress
Toc?"
"Quite," replied the heroine of the day, with a pleased glance in
Thursday's somewhat sheepish face.
"An' Dumplin', is _he_ ready?" said the seaman.
The hero of the day was held up in the arms of his proud father.
"Now then, lads, shove off!"
In a few minutes the canoe, with its precious freight and Thursday at
the steering-paddle, was thrust through the wild surf, and went skimming
over the smooth sea beyond. Immediately thereafter another canoe was
launched, with John Adams and a miscellaneous cargo of children, women,
and girls, including graceful Bessy Mills and pretty Sarah Quintal.
"Now then, here goes," cried Matt Quintal, wading deep into the surf.
"Are you coming, Dan?"
"I'm your man," said Dan, following.
Both youths raised their hands and leaped together. They went through
the first wave like two stalwart eels, and were soon speeding after the
canoes, spurning the water behind them, and conversing as comfortably on
the voyage as though the sea were their native element.
Close on their heels went two of the most athletic among the smaller
boys, while one bold infant was arrested in a reckless attempt to follow
by Otaheitan Sally, who had to rush into the surf after him.
Descended though he was of an amiable race, it is highly probable that
this infant would have displayed the presence of white blood in his
veins had his detainer been any other than Sally; but she possessed a
power to charm the wildest spirit on the island. So the child consented
to "be good," and go along with her overland.
"Now, are you ready to go?" said Sally to Charlie, who was the only
other one of the band left on the beach besides herself.
Poor Charlie stood looking innocently into the sparkling face of the
brunette. He did not know what was the matter with him, still less did
he care. He knew that he was supremely happy. That was enough. Sally,
who knew quite well what was the matter--quite as well, almost, as if
she had gone through a regular civilised education--laughed heartily,
grasped the infant's fat paw, and led him up the hill.
Truly it was a pleasant picnic these people had that day. Healthy and
hearty, they probably came as near to the realisation of heaven upon
earth as it is ever given to poor sinful man to know, for they had love
in their hearts, and their religion, drawn direct from the pure
fountain-head, was neither dimmed by false sentimentality on the one
hand, nor by hypocrisy on the other.
Perhaps John Adams was the only one of the band who wondered at the
sight, and thanked God for undeserved and unexpected mercy, for he alone
fully understood the polluted stock from which they had all sprung, and
the terrible pit of heathenish wickedness from which they had been
rescued, not by _him_ (the humbled mutineer had long since escaped from
that delusion), but by the Word of God.
After proceeding a considerable distance along the rocky coast of their
little isle, John Adams ordered the canoes to lie-to, while he made an
attempt to catch a fresh cod for dinner.
Of course, Matt Quintal and Dan McCoy ranged up alongside, and were
speedily joined by some of the adventurous small boys. Adams took these
latter into the canoe, but the former he ordered away.
"No, no," he said, while Sarah Quintal assisted to get out the bait and
Bessy Mills to arrange the line. "No, no, we don't want no idlers here.
You be off to the rocks, Matt and Dan, an' see what you can catch.
Remember, he who won't work shall not eat. There should be lots o'
crawfish about, or you might try for a red-snapper. Now, be off, both
of you."
"Ay, ay, father," replied the youths, pushing off and swimming shoreward
rather unwillingly.
"I don't feel much inclined to go after crawfish or red-snappers to-day,
Matt, do you?" asked Dan, brushing the curls out of his eyes with his
right hand.
"No, not I; but we're bound to do something towards the dinner, you
know."
At that moment there was a loud shouting and screaming from the canoe.
They looked quickly back. Adams was evidently struggling with something
in the water.
"He has hooked something big," cried Matt; "let's go see."
Dan said nothing, but turned and made for the canoe with the speed of a
porpoise. His companion followed.
Adams had indeed hooked a large cod, or something like it, and had
hauled it near to the surface when the youths came up.
"Have a care. He bolts about like a mad cracker," cried Adams. "There,
I have him now. Stand clear all!"
Gently did the seaman raise the big fish to the surface, and very
tenderly did he play him, on observing that he was not well hooked.
"Come along, my beauty! What a wopper! Won't he go down without sauce?
Pity I've got no kleek to gaff him. Not quite so close, Dan, he'll
get--Hah!"
The weight of the fish tore it from the hook at that moment, and it
dropped.
Dropped, ay, but not exactly into its native element. It dropped into
Dan's bosom! With a convulsive grasp Dan embraced it in his strong arms
and sank. Matt Quintal dived, also caught hold of the fish with both
hands and worked his two thumbs deep into its gills. By the process
called treading water, the two soon regained the surface. Sarah Quintal
seized Dan McCoy by the hair, Bessy Mills made a grasp at Matt and
caught him by the ear, while John Adams made a grab at the fish, got him
by the nose, thrust a hand into his mouth, which was wide open with
surprise or something else, as well it might be, and caught it by the
tongue.
Another moment, and a wild cheer from the boys announced that the fish
was safe in the canoe.
"We're entitled to dinner now, father," said Dan, laughing.
"Not a bit of it, you lazy boys; that fish is only big enough for the
girls. We want something for the men and child'n. Be off again."
With much more readiness the youths, now gratified by their success,
turned to the outlying rocks of a low promontory which jutted from the
inaccessible cliffs at that part. Effecting a landing with some
difficulty, they proceeded to look for crawfish, a species of lobster
which abounds there.
Leaning over a ledge of rock, and peering keenly down into a clear pool
which was sheltered from the surf, Dan suddenly exclaimed, "There's one,
Matt; I see his feelers."
As he spoke he dived into the water and disappeared. Even a pearl diver
might have wondered at the length of time he remained below. Presently
he reappeared, puffing like a grampus, and holding a huge lobster-like
creature in his hands.
"That'll stop the mouths of two or three of us, Matt!" he exclaimed,
looking round.
But Matt Quintal was nowhere to be seen. He, too, had seen a fish, and
gone to beard the lobster in his den. In a few seconds he reappeared
with another crawfish.
Thus, in the course of a short time, these youths captured four fine
fish, and returned to the canoe, swimming on their backs, with one in
each hand.
While things were progressing thus favourably at sea, matters were being
conducted not less admirably, though with less noise, on land.
The canoe containing Mrs Toc and the celebrated baby went direct to the
landing-place at Martin's Cove, which was a mere spot of sand in a
narrow creek, where landing was by no means easy even for these expert
canoemen.
Here the women kindled a fire and heated the culinary stones, while Toc
and some of the others clambered up the cliffs to obtain gulls' eggs and
cocoa-nuts.
Meanwhile Charlie Christian and Otaheitan Sally and the staggerer wended
their way overland to the same rendezvous slowly--remarkably slowly.
They had so much to talk about; not of politics, you may be sure, nor
yet of love, for they were somewhat shy of that, being, so to speak, new
to it.
"I wonder," said Charlie, sitting down for the fiftieth time, on a bank
"whereon time grew" to such an extent that he seemed to take no account
of it whatever; "I wonder if the people in the big world we've heard so
much of from father lead as pleasant lives as we do."
"Some of 'em do, of course," said Sally. "You know there are plenty of
busy people among them who go about working, read their Bible, an' try
to make other people happy, so of course they must be happy themselves."
"That's true, Sall; but then they have many things to worry them, an'
you know _we_ haven't."
"Yes, they've many things to worry them, I suppose," rejoined Sall, with
a pensive look at the ground. "I wonder what sort of things worry them
most? It can't be dressin' up grand, an' goin' out to great parties,
an' drivin' in lovely carriages. Nobody could be worried by that, you
know."
Charlie nodded his head, and agreed with her entirely.
"Neither can it be money," resumed Sall, "for money buys everything you
want, as father says, and that can be nothin' but pleasure. If their
yam-fields went wrong, I could understand that, because even you and I
know somethin' about such worries; but, you see, they haven't got no
yam-fields. Then father says the rich ones among 'em eat an' drink
whatever they like, and as much as they like, and sleep as long as they
like, an' _we_ know that eatin' an' drinkin' an' sleepin' don't worry
us, do they, Charlie?"
Again Charlie accorded unmeasured assent to Sall's propositions.
"I can understand better," continued Sall, "how the poor ones among 'em
are worried. It must worry 'em a good deal, I should think, to see some
people with far more than they want, when they haven't got half as much
as they want; an' father says some of 'em are sometimes well-nigh
starvin'. Now, it must be a dreadful worry to starve. Just think how
funny it would feel to have nothin' to eat at all, not even a yam! Then
it must be a dreadful thing for the poor to see their child'n without
enough to eat. Yes, the poor child'n of the poor must be a worry to
'em, though the child'n of the rich never are."
At this point a wild shriek from the little child caused Sally's heart
to bound. She looked up, and beheld the fat legs of her charge fly up
as he went headlong over a precipice. Fortunately the precipice was
only three feet high, so that when Sally and Charlie ran panting to the
spot, he was already on his feet, looking much surprised, but none the
worse for his tumble.
This incident sobered the inquisitive friends, and brought them back
from fanciful to actual life. They hurried over the remainder of the
journey, and arrived at Martin's Cove just as the picnic party were
beginning dinner.
Feasting is a commonplace and rather gross subject, having many points
of similitude in all lands. We shall therefore pass over this part of
the day's enjoyment, merely remarking that, what with fish and lobster,
and yams and cocoa-nuts, and bananas and plantains, and sundry compounds
of the same made into cakes, and clear water from the mountain-side,
there was ample provision for the wants of nature. There was no lack,
either, of that feast which is said to flow from "reason" and "soul"
There was incident, also, to enliven the proceedings; for the child who
had come by the overland route with Sally fell into something resembling
a yam-pie, and the hero of the day managed to roll into the oven which
had cooked the victuals. Fortunately, it had cooled somewhat by that
time, and seemed to tickle his fancy rather than otherwise.
Dinner was concluded; and as it had been preceded by asking a blessing,
it was now closed with thanksgiving. Then Dinah Adams began to show a
tendency to clear up the debris, when Dan McCoy, who had wandered away
with Sarah Quintal in search of shells to a neighbouring promontory,
suddenly uttered a tremendous and altogether new cry.
"What _is_ he up to now?" said John Adams, rising hastily and shading
his eyes with his hand.
Dan was seen to be gesticulating frantically on the rocks, and pointing
wildly out to sea.
The whole party ran towards him, and soon became as wildly excited as
himself, for there, at long last, was a _ship_, far away on the horizon!
To launch the canoes and make for home was the work of a very few
minutes. No one thought of swimming now. Those who did not go in the
canoes went by the land road as fast as they could run and clamber. In
a short time the gulls were left in undisturbed possession of Martin's
Cove.