Effects of over-eating, and reflections thereon--Humble advice regarding
cold water--The "horrible cry" accounted for--The curious birds called
penguins--Peculiarity of the cocoa nut palm--Questions on the formation
of coral islands--Mysterious footsteps--Strange discoveries and sad
sights.
When we awoke on the following morning, we found that the sun was already
a good way above the horizon, so I came to the conclusion that a heavy
supper is not conducive to early rising. Nevertheless, we felt
remarkably strong and well, and much disposed to have our breakfast.
First, however, we had our customary morning bathe, which refreshed us
greatly.
I have often wondered very much in after years that the inhabitants of my
own dear land did not make more frequent use of this most charming
element, water. I mean in the way of cold bathing. Of course, I have
perceived that it is not convenient for them to go into the sea or the
rivers in winter, as we used to do on the Coral Island; but then, I knew
from experience that a large washing-tub and a sponge do form a most
pleasant substitute. The feelings of freshness, of cleanliness, of
vigour, and extreme hilarity, that always followed my bathes in the sea,
and even, when in England, my ablutions in the wash-tub, were so
delightful, that I would sooner have gone without my breakfast than
without my bathe in cold water. My readers will forgive me for asking
whether they are in the habit of bathing thus every morning; and if they
answer "No," they will pardon me for recommending them to begin at once.
Of late years, since retiring from the stirring life of adventure which I
have led so long in foreign climes, I have heard of a system called the
cold-water-cure. Now, I do not know much about that system, so I do not
mean to uphold it, neither do I intend to run it down. Perhaps, in
reference to it, I may just hint that there may be too much of a good
thing. I know not; but of this I am quite certain, that there may also
be too little of a good thing; and the great delight I have had in cold
bathing during the course of my adventurous career inclines me to think
that it is better to risk taking too much than to content one's self with
too little. Such is my opinion, derived from much experience; but I put
it before my readers with the utmost diffidence and with profound
modesty, knowing that it may possibly jar with their feelings of
confidence in their own ability to know and judge as to what is best and
fittest in reference to their own affairs. But, to return from this
digression, for which I humbly crave forgiveness.
We had not advanced on our journey much above a mile or so, and were just
beginning to feel the pleasant glow that usually accompanies vigorous
exercise, when, on turning a point that revealed to us a new and
beautiful cluster of islands, we were suddenly arrested by the appalling
cry which had so alarmed us a few nights before. But this time we were
by no means so much alarmed as on the previous occasion, because, whereas
at that time it was night, now it was day; and I have always found,
though I am unable to account for it, that daylight banishes many of the
fears that are apt to assail us in the dark.
On hearing the sound, Peterkin instantly threw forward his spear.
"Now, what can it be?" said he, looking round at Jack. "I tell you what
it is, if we are to go on being pulled up in a constant state of horror
and astonishment, as we have been for the last week, the sooner we're out
o' this island the better, notwithstanding the yams and lemonade, and
pork and plums!"
Peterkin's remark was followed by a repetition of the cry, louder than
before.
"It comes from one of these islands," said Jack.
"It must be the ghost of a jackass, then," said Peterkin, "for I never
heard anything so like."
We all turned our eyes towards the cluster of islands, where, on the
largest, we observed curious objects moving on the shore.
"Soldiers they are,--that's flat!" cried Peterkin, gazing at them in the
utmost amazement.
And, in truth, Peterkin's remark seemed to me to be correct; for, at the
distance from which we saw them, they appeared to be an army of soldiers.
There they stood, rank and file, in lines and in squares, marching and
countermarching, with blue coats and white trousers. While we were
looking at them, the dreadful cry came again over the water, and Peterkin
suggested that it must be a regiment sent out to massacre the natives in
cold blood. At this remark Jack laughed and said,--
"Why, Peterkin, they are penguins!"
"Penguins?" repeated Peterkin.
"Ay, penguins, Peterkin, penguins,--nothing more or less than big sea-
birds, as you shall see one of these days, when we pay them a visit in
our boat, which I mean to set about building the moment we return to our
bower."
"So, then, our dreadful yelling ghosts and our murdering army of
soldiers," remarked Peterkin, "have dwindled down to penguins,--big sea-
birds! Very good. Then I propose that we continue our journey as fast
as possible, lest our island should be converted into a dream before we
get completely round it."
Now, as we continued on our way, I pondered much over this new discovery,
and the singular appearance of these birds, of which Jack could only give
us a very slight and vague account; and I began to long to commence to
our boat, in order that we might go and inspect them more narrowly. But
by degrees these thoughts left me, and I began to be much taken up again
with the interesting peculiarities of the country which we were passing
through.
The second night we passed in a manner somewhat similar to the first, at
about two-thirds of the way round the island, as we calculated, and we
hoped to sleep on the night following at our bower. I will not here note
so particularly all that we said and saw during the course of this second
day, as we did not make any further discoveries of great importance. The
shore along which we travelled, and the various parts of the woods
through which we passed, were similar to those which have been already
treated of. There were one or two observations that we made, however,
and these were as follows:--
We saw that, while many of the large fruit-bearing trees grew only in the
valleys, and some of them only near the banks of the streams, where the
soil was peculiarly rich, the cocoa-nut palm grew in every place
whatsoever,--not only on the hill sides, but also on the sea shore, and
even, as has been already stated, on the coral reef itself, where the
soil, if we may use the name, was nothing better than loose sand mingled
with broken shells and coral rock. So near to the sea, too, did this
useful tree grow, that in many places its roots were washed by the spray
from the breakers. Yet we found the trees growing thus on the sands to
be quite as luxuriant as those growing in the valleys, and the fruit as
good and refreshing also. Besides this, I noticed that, on the summit of
the high mountain, which we once more ascended at a different point from
our first ascent, were found abundance of shells and broken coral
formations, which Jack and I agreed proved either that this island must
have once been under the sea, or that the sea must once have been above
the island. In other words, that as shells and coral could not possibly
climb to the mountain top, they must have been washed upon it while the
mountain top was on a level with the sea. We pondered this very much;
and we put to ourselves the question, "What raised the island to its
present height above the sea?" But to this we could by no means give to
ourselves a satisfactory reply. Jack thought it might have been blown up
by a volcano; and Peterkin said he thought it must have jumped up of its
own accord! We also noticed, what had escaped us before, that the solid
rocks of which the island was formed were quite different from the live
coral rocks on the shore, where the wonderful little insects were
continually working. They seemed, indeed, to be of the same material,--a
substance like limestone; but, while the coral rocks were quite full of
minute cells in which the insects lived, the other rocks inland were hard
and solid, without the appearance of cells at all. Our thoughts and
conversations on this subject were sometimes so profound that Peterkin
said we should certainly get drowned in them at last, even although we
were such good divers! Nevertheless we did not allow his pleasantry on
this and similar points to deter us from making our notes and
observations as we went along.
We found several more droves of hogs in the woods, but abstained from
killing any of them, having more than sufficient for our present
necessities. We saw also many of their foot-prints in this
neighbourhood. Among these we also observed the footprints of a smaller
animal, which we examined with much care, but could form no certain
opinion as to them. Peterkin thought they were those of a little dog,
but Jack and I thought differently. We became very curious on this
matter, the more so that we observed these foot-prints to lie scattered
about in one locality, as if the animal which had made them was wandering
round about in a very irregular manner, and without any object in view.
Early in the forenoon of our third day we observed these footprints to be
much more numerous than ever, and in one particular spot they diverged
off into the woods in a regular beaten track, which was, however, so
closely beset with bushes, that we pushed through it with difficulty. We
had now become so anxious to find out what animal this was, and where it
went to, that we determined to follow the track, and, if possible, clear
up the mystery. Peterkin said, in a bantering tone, that he was sure it
would be cleared up as usual in some frightfully simple way, and prove to
be no mystery at all!
The beaten track seemed much too large to have been formed by the animal
itself, and we concluded that some larger animal had made it, and that
the smaller one made use of it. But everywhere the creeping plants and
tangled bushes crossed our path, so that we forced our way along with
some difficulty. Suddenly, as we came upon an open space, we heard a
faint cry, and observed a black animal standing in the track before us.
"A wild-cat!" cried Jack, fitting an arrow to his bow, and discharging it
so hastily that he missed the animal, and hit the earth about half a foot
to one side of it. To our surprise the wild-cat did not fly, but walked
slowly towards the arrow, and snuffed at it.
"That's the most comical wild-cat I ever saw!" cried Jack.
"It's a tame wild-cat, I think," said Peterkin, levelling his spear to
make a charge.
"Stop!" cried I, laying my hand on his shoulder; "I do believe the poor
beast is blind. See, it strikes against the branches as it walks along.
It must be a very old one;" and I hastened towards it.
"Only think," said Peterkin, with a suppressed laugh, "of a superannuated
wild-cat!"
We now found that the poor cat was not only blind, or nearly so, but
extremely deaf, as it did not hear our footsteps until we were quite
close behind it. Then it sprang round, and, putting up its back and
tail, while the black hair stood all on end, uttered a hoarse mew and a
fuff.
"Poor thing," said Peterkin, gently extending his hand, and endeavouring
to pat the cat's head. "Poor pussy; chee, chee, chee; puss, puss, puss;
cheetie pussy!"
No sooner did the cat hear these sounds than all signs of anger fled,
and, advancing eagerly to Peterkin, it allowed itself to be stroked, and
rubbed itself against his legs, purring loudly all the time, and showing
every symptom of the most extreme delight.
"It's no more a wild cat than I am!" cried Peterkin, taking it in his
arms. "It's quite tame. Poor pussy, cheetie pussy!"
We now crowded around Peterkin, and were not a little surprised, and, to
say truth, a good deal affected, by the sight of the poor animal's
excessive joy. It rubbed its head against Peterkin's cheek, licked his
chin, and thrust its head almost violently into his neck, while it purred
more loudly than I ever heard a cat purr before, and appeared to be so
much overpowered by its feelings, that it occasionally mewed and purred
almost in the same breath. Such demonstrations of joy and affection led
us at once to conclude that this poor cat must have known man before, and
we conjectured that it had been left either accidentally or by design on
the island many years ago, and was now evincing its extreme joy at
meeting once more with human beings. While we were fondling the cat and
talking about it, Jack glanced round the open space in the midst of which
we stood.
"Hallo!" exclaimed he; "this looks something like a clearing. The axe
has been at work here. Just look at these tree-stumps."
We now turned to examine these, and, without doubt, we found trees that
had been cut down here and there, also stumps and broken branches; all of
which, however, were completely covered over with moss, and bore evidence
of having been in this condition for some years. No human foot-prints
were to be seen, either on the track or among the bushes; but those of
the cat were found everywhere. We now determined to follow up the track
as far as it went, and Peterkin put the cat down; but it seemed to be so
weak, and mewed so very pitifully, that he took it up again and carried
it in his arms, where, in a few minutes, it fell sound asleep.
About ten yards farther on, the felled trees became more numerous, and
the track, diverging to the right, followed for a short space the banks
of a stream. Suddenly we came to a spot where once must have been a rude
bridge, the stones of which were scattered in the stream, and those on
each bank entirely covered over with moss. In silent surprise and
expectancy we continued to advance, and, a few yards farther on, beheld,
under the shelter of some bread-fruit trees, a small hut or cottage. I
cannot hope to convey to my readers a very correct idea of the feelings
that affected us on witnessing this unexpected sight. We stood for a
long time in silent wonder, for there was a deep and most melancholy
stillness about the place that quite overpowered us; and when we did at
length speak, it was in subdued whispers, as if we were surrounded by
some awful or supernatural influence. Even Peterkin's voice, usually so
quick and lively on all occasions, was hushed now; for there was a
dreariness about this silent, lonely, uninhabited cottage,--so strange in
its appearance, so far away from the usual dwellings of man, so old,
decayed, and deserted in its aspect,--that fell upon our spirits like a
thick cloud, and blotted out as with a pall the cheerful sunshine that
had filled us since the commencement of our tour round the island.
The hut or cottage was rude and simple in its construction. It was not
more than twelve feet long by ten feet broad, and about seven or eight
feet high. It had one window, or rather a small frame in which a window
might, perhaps, once have been, but which was now empty. The door was
exceedingly low, and formed of rough boards, and the roof was covered
with broad cocoa-nut and plantain leaves. But every part of it was in a
state of the utmost decay. Moss and green matter grew in spots all over
it. The woodwork was quite perforated with holes; the roof had nearly
fallen in, and appeared to be prevented from doing so altogether by the
thick matting of creeping-plants and the interlaced branches which years
of neglect had allowed to cover it almost entirely; while the thick,
luxuriant branches of the bread-fruit and other trees spread above it,
and flung a deep, sombre shadow over the spot, as if to guard it from the
heat and the light of day. We conversed long and in whispers about this
strange habitation ere we ventured to approach it; and when at length we
did so it was, at least on my part, with feelings of awe.
At first Jack endeavoured to peep in at the window, but from the deep
shadow of the trees already mentioned, and the gloom within, he could not
clearly discern objects; so we lifted the latch and pushed open the door.
We observed that the latch was made of iron, and almost eaten away with
rust. In the like condition were also the hinges, which creaked as the
door swung back. On entering, we stood still and gazed around us, while
we were much impressed with the dreary stillness of the room. But what
we saw there surprised and shocked us not a little. There was no
furniture in the apartment save a little wooden stool and an iron pot,
the latter almost eaten through with rust. In the corner farthest from
the door was a low bedstead, on which lay two skeletons, imbedded in a
little heap of dry dust. With beating hearts we went forward to examine
them. One was the skeleton of a man, the other that of a dog, which was
extended close beside that of the man, with its head resting on his bosom
Now we were very much concerned about this discovery, and could scarce
refrain from tears on beholding these sad remains. After some time, we
began to talk about what we had seen, and to examine in and around the
hut, in order to discover some clue to the name or history of this poor
man, who had thus died in solitude, with none to mourn his loss save his
cat and his faithful dog. But we found nothing,--neither a book nor a
scrap of paper. We found, however, the decayed remnants of what appeared
to have been clothing, and an old axe. But none of these things bore
marks of any kind; and, indeed, they were so much decayed as to convince
us that they had lain in the condition in which we found them for many
years.
This discovery now accounted to us for the tree stump at the top of the
mountain with the initials cut on it; also for the patch of sugar-cane
and other traces of man which we had met with in the course of our
rambles over the island. And we were much saddened by the reflection
that the lot of this poor wanderer might possibly be our own, after many
years' residence on the island, unless we should be rescued by the visit
of some vessel or the arrival of natives. Having no clue whatever to
account for the presence of this poor human being in such a lonely spot,
we fell to conjecturing what could have brought him there. I was
inclined to think that he must have been a shipwrecked sailor, whose
vessel had been lost here, and all the crew been drowned except himself
and his dog and cat. But Jack thought it more likely that he had run
away from his vessel, and had taken the dog and cat to keep him company.
We were also much occupied in our minds with the wonderful difference
between the cat and the dog. For here we saw that while the one
perished, like a loving friend, by its master's side, with its head
resting on his bosom, the other had sought to sustain itself by prowling
abroad in the forest, and had lived in solitude to a good old age.
However, we did not conclude from this that the cat was destitute of
affection, for we could not forget its emotions on first meeting with us;
but we saw from this, that the dog had a great deal more of generous love
in its nature than the cat, because it not only found it impossible to
live after the death of its master, but it must needs, when it came to
die, crawl to his side and rest its head upon his lifeless breast.
While we were thinking on these things, and examining into everything
about the room, we were attracted by an exclamation from Peterkin.
"I say, Jack," said he, "here is something that will be of use to us."
"What is it?" said Jack, hastening across the room.
"An old pistol," replied Peterkin, holding up the weapon, which he had
just pulled from under a heap of broken wood and rubbish that lay in a
corner.
"That, indeed, might have been useful," said Jack, examining it, "if we
had any powder; but I suspect the bow and the sling will prove more
serviceable."
"True, I forgot that," said Peterkin; "but we may as well take it with
us, for the flint will serve to strike fire with when the sun does not
shine."
{A saddening discovery: p136.jpg}
After having spent more than an hour at this place without discovering
anything of further interest, Peterkin took up the old cat, which had
lain very contentedly asleep on the stool whereon he had placed it, and
we prepared to take our departure. In leaving the hut, Jack stumbled
heavily against the door-post, which was so much decayed as to break
across, and the whole fabric of the hut seemed ready to tumble about our
ears. This put into our heads that we might as well pull it down, and so
form a mound over the skeleton. Jack, therefore, with his axe, cut down
the other door-post, which, when it was done, brought the whole hut in
ruins to the ground, and thus formed a grave to the bones of the poor
recluse and his dog. Then we left the spot, having brought away the iron
pot, the pistol, and the old axe, as they might be of much use to us
hereafter.
During the rest of this day we pursued our journey, and examined the
other end of the large valley, which we found to be so much alike to the
parts already described, that I shall not recount the particulars of what
we saw in this place. I may, however, remark, that we did not quite
recover our former cheerful spirits until we arrived at our bower, which
we did late in the evening, and found everything just in the same
condition as we had left it three days before.