No wonder that there was wild excitement on the lonely island at the
sight of this sail, for, with the exception of the ship that had been
seen years before, and only for a few minutes, by Sally and Matt
Quintal, no vessel of any kind had visited them during the space of
nineteen years.
"I've longed for it, old 'ooman, as nobody but myself can understand,"
said Adams, in a low, earnest voice to his wife, who stood on the cliffs
beside him. Although nearly blind, Mrs Adams was straining her eyes in
the direction of the strange sail. "And now that it's come," continued
her husband, "I confess to you, lass, I'm somewhat afeared to face it.
It's not that I fear to die more than other men, but I'd feel it awful
hard to be took away from you an' all them dear child'n. But God's will
be done."
"They'd never take you from us, father," exclaimed Dinah Adams, who
overheard this speech.
"There's no sayin', Di. I've forfeited my life to the laws of England.
I tell 'ee what it is, Thursday," said Adams, going up to the youth, who
was gazing wistfully like the others at the rapidly approaching vessel,
"it may be a man-o'-war, an' they may p'r'aps want to ship me off to
England on rather short notice. If so, I must go; but I'd rather not.
So I'll retire into the bushes, Toc, while you go aboard in the canoe.
I'll have time to think over matters before you come back with word who
they are, an' where they hail from."
While Thursday went down to the beach, accompanied by Charlie, to
prepare a canoe for this mission, the ship drew rapidly near the island,
and soon after hove to, just outside of Bounty Bay. As she showed no
colours, and did not look like a man-of-war, Adams began to feel easier
in his mind, and again going out on the cliffs, watched the canoe as it
dashed through the surf.
Under the vigorous strokes of Thursday and Charlie Christian, it was
soon alongside the strange ship. To judge from the extent to which the
men opened their eyes, there is reason to believe that those on board of
that strange ship were filled with unusual surprise; and well they might
be, for the appearance of our two heroes was not that which voyagers in
the South Pacific were accustomed to expect. The remarks of two of the
surprised ones, as the canoe approached, will explain their state of
mind better than any commentary.
"I say, Jack, it ain't a boat; I guess it's a canoe."
"Yes, Bill, it's a canoe."
"What d'ye make 'em out to be, Jack?"
"Men, I think; leastwise they're not much like monkeys; though, of
coorse, a feller can't be sure till they stand up an' show their
tails,--or the want of 'em."
"Well, now," remarked Bill, as the canoe drew nearer, "that's the most
puzzlin' lot I've seen since I was raised. They ain't niggers, that's
plain; they're too light-coloured for that, an' has none o' the nigger
brick-dust in their faces. One on 'em, moreover, seems to have fair
curly hair, an' they wears jackets an' hats with something of a
sailor-cut about 'em. Why, I do b'lieve they're shipwrecked sailors."
"No," returned Jack, with a critical frown, "they're not just the colour
o' white men. Mayhap, they're a noo style o' savage, this bein' raither
an out-o'-the-way quarter."
"Stand by with a rope there," cried the captain of the vessel, cutting
short the discussion, while the canoe ranged longside.
"Ship ahoy!" shouted Thursday, in the true nautical style which he had
learned from Adams.
If the eyes of the men who looked over the side of the ship were wide
open with surprise before, they seemed to blaze with amazement at the
next remark by Thursday.
"Where d'ye hail from, an' what's your name?" he asked, as Charlie made
fast to the rope which was thrown to them.
"The _Topaz_, from America, Captain Folger," answered the captain, with
a smile.
With an agility worthy of monkeys, and that might have justified Jack
and Bill looking for tails, the brothers immediately stood on the deck,
and holding out their hands, offered with affable smiles to shake hands.
We need scarcely say the offer was heartily accepted by every one of
the crew.
"And who may _you_ be, my good fellows?" asked Captain Folger, with an
amused expression.
"I am Thursday October Christian," answered the youth, drawing himself
up as if he were announcing himself the king of the Cannibal Islands.
"I'm the oldest son of Fletcher Christian, one of the mutineers of the
_Bounty_, an' this is my brother Charlie."
The sailors glanced at each other and then at the stalwart youths, as if
they doubted the truth of the assertion.
"I've heard of that mutiny," said Captain Folger. "It was celebrated
enough to make a noise even on our side of the Atlantic. If I remember
rightly, most of the mutineers were caught on Otaheite and taken to
England, being wrecked and some drowned on the way; the rest were tried,
and some acquitted, some pardoned, and some hanged."
"I know nothin' about all that," said Thursday, with an interested but
perplexed look.
"But I do, sir," said the man whom we have styled Jack, touching his hat
to the captain. "I'm an Englishman, as you knows, an' chanced to be in
England at the very time when the mutineers was tried. There was nine
o' the mutineers, sir, as went off wi' the _Bounty_ from Otaheite, an'
they've never bin heard on from that day to this."
"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Thursday, with sudden animation, "that's _us_.
The nine mutineers came to our island here, Pitcairn, an' remained here
ever since, an' we've all bin born here; there's lots more of us,--boys
and girls."
"You _don't_ say so!" exclaimed the captain, whose interest was now
thoroughly aroused. "Are the nine mutineers all on Pitcairn still?"
Thursday's mobile countenance at once became profoundly sad, and he
shook his head slowly.
"No," said he, "they're all dead but one. John Adams is his name."
"Don't remember that name among the nine said to be lost," remarked the
Englishman.
"I've heard father say he was sometimes called John Smith," said
Thursday.
"Ah, yes! I remember the name of Smith," said Jack. "_He_ was one of
'em."
"And is he the only man left on the island?" asked the captain.
"Yes, the only man," replied Thursday, who had never yet thought of
himself in any other light than a boy; "an' if you'll come ashore in our
canoe, father'll take you to his house an' treat you to the best he's
got. He'll be right glad to see you too, for he's not seen a soul
except ourselves for nigh twenty years."
"Not seen a soul! D'ye mean to say no ship has touched here for that
length of time?" asked the captain in surprise.
"No, except one that only touched an' went off without discovering that
we were here, an' none of us found out she had bin here till we chanced
to see her sailin' away far out to sea. That was five years ago."
"That's very strange and interestin'. I'd like well to visit old Adams,
lad, an' I thank 'ee for the invitation; but I won't run my ship through
such a surf as that, an' don't like to risk leavin' her to go ashore in
your canoe."
"If you please, sir, I'd be very glad to go, an' bring off what news
there is," said Jack, the English sailor, whose surname was Brace.
At first Captain Folger refused this offer, but on consideration he
allowed Jack to go, promising at the same time to keep as near to the
shore as possible, so that if there was anything like treachery he might
have a chance of swimming off.
"So your father is dead?" asked the captain, as he walked with Thursday
to the side.
"Yes, long, long ago."
"But you called Adams `father' just now. How's that?"
"Oh, we all calls 'im that. It's only a way we've got into."
"What made your father call you Thursday?"
"'Cause I was born on a Thursday."
"H'm I an' I suppose if you'd bin born on a Tuesday or Saturday, he'd
have called you by one or other of these days?"
"S'pose so," said Thursday, with much simplicity.
"Are you married, Thursday?"
"Yes, I'm married to Susannah," said Thursday, with a pleased smile;
"she's a dear girl, though she's a deal older than me--old enough to be
my mother. And I've got a babby too--a _splendid_ babby!"
Thursday passed ever the side as he said this, and fortunately did not
see the merriment which him remarks created.
Jack Brace followed him into the canoe, and in less than half-an-hour he
found himself among the wondering, admiring, almost awestruck, islanders
of Pitcairn.
"It's a _man_!" whispered poor Mainmast to Susannah, with the memory of
Fletcher Christian strong upon her.
"What a lovely beard he has!" murmured Sally to Bessy Mills.
Charlie Christian and Matt Quintal chancing, curiously enough, to be
near Sally and Bessy, overheard the whisper, and for the first time each
received a painful stab from the green-eyed demon, jealousy.
But the children did not whisper their comments. They crowded round the
seaman eagerly.
"You've come to live with us?" asked Dolly Young, looking up in his face
with an innocent smile, and taking his rough hand.
"To tell us stories?" said little Arthur Quintal, with an equally
innocent smile.
"Well, no, my dears, not exactly," answered the seaman, looking in a
dazed manner at the pretty faces and graceful forms around him; "but if
I only had the chance to remain here, it's my belief that I would."
Further remark was stopped by the appearance of John Adams coming
towards the group. He walked slowly, and kept his eyes steadily, yet
wistfully, fastened on the seaman. Holding out his hand, he said in a
low tone, as if he were soliloquising, "At last! It's like a dream!"
Then, as the sailor grasped his hand and shook it warmly, he added aloud
a hearty "Welcome, welcome to Pitcairn."
"Thank 'ee, thank 'ee," said Jack Brace, not less heartily; "an' may I
ax if you _are_ one o' the _Bounty_ mutineers, an' no mistake?"
"The old tone," murmured Adams, "and the old lingo, an' the old cut o'
the jib, an'--an'--the old toggery."
He took hold of a flap of Jack's pea-jacket, and almost fondled it.
"Oh, man, but it does my heart good to see you! Come, come away up to
my house an' have some grub. Yes, yes--axin' your pardon for not
answerin' right off--I _am_ one o' the _Bounty_ mutineers; the last
one--John Smith once, better known now as John Adams. But where do you
hail from, friend?"
Jack at once gave him the desired information, told him on the way up
all he knew about the fate of the mutineers who had remained at
Otaheite, and received in exchange a brief outline of the history of the
nine mutineers who had landed on Pitcairn.
The excitement of the two men and their interest in each other increased
every moment; the one being full of the idea of having made a wonderful
discovery of, as it were, a lost community, the other being equally full
of the delight of once more talking to a man--a seaman--a messmate, he
might soon say, for he meant to feed him like a prince.
"Get a pig cooked, Molly," he said, during a brief interval in the
conversation, "an' do it as fast as you can."
"There's one a'most ready-baked now," replied Mrs Adams.
"All right, send the girls for fruit, and make a glorious spread--
outside; he'll like it better than in the house--under the banyan-tree.
Sit down, sit down, messmate." Turning to the sailor, "Man, _what_ a
time it is since I've used that blessed word! Sit down and have a
glass."
Jack Brace smacked his lips in anticipation, thanked Adams in advance,
and drew his sleeve across his mouth in preparation, while his host set
a cocoa-nut-cup filled with a whitish substance before him.
"That's a noo sort of a glass, John Adams," remarked the man, as he
raised and smelt it; "also a strange kind o' tipple."
He sipped, and seemed disappointed. Then he sipped again, and seemed
pleased.
"What is it, may I ax?"
"It's milk of the cocoa-nut," answered Adams.
"Milk o' the ko-ko-nut, eh? Well, now, that is queer. If you'd 'a
called it the milk o' the cow-cow-nut, I could have believed it.
Hows'ever, it ain't bad, tho' raither wishy-washy. Got no stronger
tipple than that?"
"Nothin' stronger than that, 'xcept water," said John, with one of his
sly glances; "but it's a toss up which is the strongest."
"Well, it'll be a toss down with me whichever is the strongest," said
the accommodating tar, as he once more raised the cup to his lips, and
drained it.
"But, I say, you unhung mutineer, do you mean for to tell me that all
them good-lookin' boys an' girls are yours?"
He looked round on the crowd of open-mouthed young people, who, from
six-foot Toc down to the youngest staggerer, gazed at him solemnly, all
eyes and ears.
"No, they ain't," answered Adams, with a laugh. "What makes you ask?"
"'Cause they all calls you father."
"Oh!" replied his host, "that's only a way they have; but there's only
four of 'em mine, three girls an' a boy. The rest are the descendants
of my eight comrades, who are now dead and gone."
"Well, now, d'ye know, John Adams, _alias_ Smith, mutineer, as ought to
have bin hung but wasn't, an' as nobody would have the heart to hang
now, even if they had the chance, this here adventur is out o' sight one
o' the most extraor'nar circumstances as ever did happen to me since I
was the length of a marlinspike."
As Mainmast here entered to announce that the pig was ready for
consumption, the amazed mariner was led to a rich repast under the
neighbouring banyan-tree. Here he was bereft of speech for a
considerable time, whether owing to the application of his jaws to food,
or increased astonishment, it is difficult to say.
Before the repast began, Adams, according to custom, stood up, removed
his hat, and briefly asked a blessing. To which all assembled, with
clasped hands and closed eyes, responded Amen.
This, no doubt, was another source of profound wonder to Jack Brace, but
he made no remark at the time. Neither did he remark on the fact that
the women did not sit down to eat with the males of the party, but stood
behind and served them, conversing pleasantly the while.
After dinner was concluded, and thanks had been returned, Jack Brace
leaned his back against one of the descending branches of the
banyan-tree, and with a look of supreme satisfaction drew forth a short
black pipe.
At sight of this the countenance of Adams flushed, and his eyes almost
sparkled.
"There it is again," he murmured; "the old pipe once more! Let me look
at it, Jack Brace; it's not the first by a long way that I've handled."
Jack handed over the pipe, a good deal amused at the manner of his host,
who took the implement of fumigation and examined it carefully, handling
it with tender care, as if it were a living and delicate creature. Then
he smelt it, then put it in his mouth and gave it a gentle draw, while
an expression of pathetic satisfaction passed over his somewhat
care-worn countenance.
"The old taste, not a bit changed," he murmured, shutting his eyes.
"Brings back the old ships, and the old messmates, and the old times,
and Old England."
"Come, old feller," said Jack Brace, "if it's so powerful, why not light
it and have a real good pull, for old acquaintance sake?"
He drew from his pocket flint and tinder, matches being unknown in those
days, and began to strike a light, when Adams took the pipe hastily from
his mouth and handed it back.
"No, no," he said, with decision, "it's only the old associations that
it calls up, that's all. As for baccy, I've bin so long without it now,
that I don't want it; and it would only be foolish in me to rouse up the
old cravin'. There, you light it, Jack. I'll content myself wi' the
smell of it."
"Well, John Adams, have your way. You are king here, you know; nobody
to contradict you. So I'll smoke instead of you, if these young ladies
won't object."
The young ladies referred to were so far from objecting, that they were
burning with impatience to see a real smoker go to work, for the tobacco
of the mutineers had been exhausted, and all the pipes broken or lost,
before most of them were born.
"And let me tell you, John Adams," continued the sailor, when the pipe
was fairly alight, "I've not smoked a pipe in such koorious
circumstances since I lit one, an' had my right fore-finger shot off
when I was stuffin' down the baccy, in the main-top o' the _Victory_ at
the battle o' Trafalgar. But it was against all rules to smoke in
action, an' served me right. Hows'ever, it got me my discharge, and
that's how I come to be in a Yankee merchantman this good day."
At the mention of battle and being wounded in action, the old
professional sympathies of John Adams were awakened.
"What battle might that have been?" he asked.
"Which?" said Jack.
"Traflegar," said the other.
Jack Brace took the pipe out of his mouth and looked at Adams, as though
he had asked where Adam and Eve had been born. For some time he could
not make up his mind how to reply.
"You don't mean to tell me," he said at length, "that you've never heard
of the--battle--of--Trafalgar?"
"Never," answered Adams, with a faint smile.
"Nor of the great Lord Nelson?"
"Never heard his name till to-day. You forget, Jack, that I've not seen
a mortal man from Old England, or any other part o' the civilised world,
since the 28th day of April 1789, and that's full nineteen years ago."
"That's true, John; that's true," said the seaman, slowly, as if
endeavouring to obtain some comprehension of what depths of ignorance
the fact implied. "So, I suppose you've never heerd tell of--hold on;
let me rake up my brain-pan a bit."
He tilted his straw hat, and scratched his head for a few minutes,
puffing the while immense clouds of smoke, to the inexpressible delight
of the open-mouthed youngsters around him.
"You--you've never heerd tell of Lord Howe, who licked the French off
Ushant, somewheres about sixteen years gone by?"
"Never."
"Nor of the great victories gained in the '95 by Sir Edward Pellew, an'
Admiral Hotham, an' Admiral Cornwallis, an' Lord Bridgeport?"
"No, of coorse ye couldn't; nor yet of Admiral Duncan, who, in the '97,
(I think it was), beat the Dutch fleet near Camperdown all to sticks.
Nor yet of that tremendous fight off Cape Saint Vincent in the same
year, when Sir John Jervis, with nothin' more than fifteen sail o' the
Mediterranean fleet, attacked the Spaniards wi' their twenty-seven ships
o' the line--line-o'-battle ships, you'll observe, John Adams--an' took
four of 'em, knocked half of the remainder into universal smash, an'
sunk all the rest?"
"That was splendid!" exclaimed Adams, his martial spirit rising, while
the eyes of the young listeners around kept pace with their mouths in
dilating.
"Splendid? Pooh!" said Jack Brace, delivering puffs between sentences
that resembled the shots of miniature seventy-fours, "that was nothin'
to what followed. Nelson was in that fight, he was, an' Nelson began to
shove out his horns a bit soon after that, _I_ tell you. Well, well,"
continued the British tar with a resigned look, "to think of meetin' a
man out of Bedlam who hasn't heerd of Nelson and the Nile, w'ich, of
coorse, ye haven't. It's worth while comin' all this way to see you."