beauty as he thought he had never gazed upon before. The sea bounded
his horizon on every side, whilst the entire island lay spread out like
a map beneath him, with all its bold undulations, its streams, the lake,
and the arm of the sea distinctly visible; and with the aid of his
telescope he was even able to discern the gleaming white canvas of the
tent which marked the position of the little party he had left behind.
Nay more, when he had finally adjusted the focus of his telescope, he
was even able to detect, upon the white sand of the beach, two tiny
moving objects which he knew to be his own boy Percy and little Lucille
Henderson. For some time he was unable to withdraw his eyes from those
two diminutive objects; but when he did so, and turned his face to the
westward, he saw that the remarkable cliff which Ned had noticed as the
ship passed the island, and which seemed to divide it into two separate
and distinct portions, was distant not more than three-quarters of a
mile from the base of the hill on which he stood. The top edge of this
cliff bounded his view to the westward so far as the island was
concerned; but the bay with its encircling reef was visible, and even
with the naked eye he readily detected, on the interior edge of the
reef, a small speck-like object which the telescope showed him to be the
wreck mentioned by Ned in his note. The day was now wearing on apace,
and his long walk had sharpened his appetite; Gaunt therefore thought
that he could not do better than sit down where he was and take his
luncheon or dinner whilst he noted in fuller detail the topography of
the island, of which he there and then made a rough sketch-plan.
His meal over, the solitary explorer descended the mountain and made his
way to the edge of the cliff. Arrived there, it soon become apparent
that the most difficult portion of his journey still lay before him, for
at the point where he then stood, he saw at once that to descend the
cliffs face to the slope below would be an impossibility without the aid
of ropes or some substitute for them. He turned south and followed the
edge of the cliff, hoping to find a spot at which he might descend, but
without success, as he at length reached a point where the face of the
cliff turned sharply off to the eastward, eventually running into and
forming a portion of the cliff proper, which on that side of the island
ran sheer down to the water.
Retracing his steps, Gaunt soon found himself back at the spot where he
had in the first instance reached the edge of the cliff, and passing on
he found, at a distance of about a quarter of a mile beyond, a narrow
chasm or gap, which on careful inspection he saw would enable him to
descend to the sloping green-sward at the foot of the cliff. Down this
gap he cautiously scrambled, narrowly escaping an awkward fall once or
twice on his way, and by that means soon reached the foot of the cliff,
which appeared to maintain a tolerably uniform height of about three
hundred and fifty feet.
From the point where he now stood the ground sloped pretty evenly down
to the water, the inclination of the slope being about one foot in every
three; and the distance to the water's-edge a mile, as near as might be.
The base of this long slope terminated in a narrow strip of sandy
beach, which was strewed here and there with timber and what-not from
the wreck in the offing. This wreck Mr Gaunt was exceedingly anxious
to visit, as he felt it might--and probably would--prove of inestimable
value to himself and his companions. She was not more than half a mile
distant from the beach, and was lying close to the inside fringe of the
white water which broke over the outlying reef. Her bows pointed
shoreward, but at an angle which enabled the engineer to catch a glimpse
of her entire broadside; and she was lying well over on her side, with
her inclined deck towards the island, thus enabling Gaunt to get, with
the aid of his telescope, a fairly good view of her, and to form a
tolerably accurate estimate of the amount of damage which she had
received. She was a large vessel, measuring, as near as he could judge,
some sixteen hundred tons, and she appeared to be built of wood. She
had been either barque or ship-rigged; but all three of her masts were
over the side, and could be seen floating there still attached to the
hull by the rigging. Her bulwarks were entirely swept away, as also
were her deck-houses--the broken stanchions of which Gaunt thought he
could detect still projecting above the surface of the deck. The stem
and stern-posts of a couple of boats still dangled from her davits;
which seemed to point to the conclusion that when disaster overtook her
the crew had been allowed little or no time in which to provide for
their safety.
Gaunt was an excellent swimmer, and, having no boat, he thought his
quickest mode of reaching the vessel would be by taking to the water.
He was on the point of stripping for this purpose when, his eye still
fixed upon the ship, he caught a glimpse of two or three small dark
objects projecting above the surface of the water and moving slowly
about. He had a very shrewd suspicion as to the nature of these
objects, and his telescope soon demonstrated to him the fact that he was
right in believing them to be the dorsal fins of so many sharks.
He was scarcely prepared for this discovery, as he was under the
impression that the bay on the shore of which he stood was completely
hemmed in by the reef; and he was fully aware that if such had been the
case the smooth water inside would be quite free from sharks, as these
pests never voluntarily pass through broken water. Their presence,
therefore, pointed to the probability that although he had been unable
to detect such a circumstance, there must somewhere be a channel through
the reef.
The sight of the sharks effectually put an end to his project of
swimming off to the wreck, and he at once began to look about him for
the means of forming such a raft as would enable him to make the trip in
safety. There was plenty of timber lying strewed about the beach, but
he had no nails or tools of any description, except his axe, with which
to construct the raft. Under these circumstances the matter required a
little thinking out; and whilst deliberating upon his best mode of
proceeding, he sauntered along the beach on the look-out for suitable
materials. He had been walking slowly along for a distance of about a
mile when his quick eye detected certain objects lying on the sand which
he instinctively divined to be human corpses, and, making his way to
them, he found he was not mistaken. There they lay--seven of them--just
as they had been washed ashore, dead, after their last ineffectual
struggle with the merciless sea. Three of them were fully clothed; the
remaining four were clad only in their shirts, which seemed to indicate
that they had leaped from their hammocks, upon some sudden alarm, and
rushed upon the deck, to be almost immediately swept overboard. The
bodies were in a most revolting condition, from the combined effects of
the sun and the attacks of the sea-birds and land-crabs, the latter of
which swarmed upon the beach in thousands. It was difficult to judge
accurately how long a period had elapsed since death had overtaken these
unfortunates; but from their appearance Gaunt believed that it could not
have been many weeks. It was a sad sight to look upon, especially for a
man in his situation; and he hastened to remove it by roughly sharpening
a fragment of plank with his axe and scooping shallow graves in the
sand, into which he rolled the bodies and hastily covered them up.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
A VISIT TO THE WRECK.
This shocking discovery diverted his thoughts for a short time from his
original project; but, having done all he could for the poor wretches,
he was glad to turn anew to the question of the raft. To a man
accustomed as he was to the quick devising of expedients it was not
difficult to scheme out the plan of such a structure as would serve his
purpose. Looking about him and collecting a quantity of such small
pieces of wreckage as had nails in them, he formed them into a heap, to
which with the aid of some dry grass and withered leaves and a lens from
his telescope, he set fire and left it to consume. Then picking out
three 6-inch planks of about equal length he sharpened their ends with
his axe and laid them on the beach, at a distance of about three feet
apart, with their sharpened ends pointing seaward. He next procured
three pieces of plank long enough to just cross the first three planks
at right angles; and as soon as his bonfire had burned itself out he
cleared the nails from among the ashes, and with them fastened his
structure together. Two short pieces of plank nailed vertically in
midships, with another piece secured on top of that, formed a rough-and-
ready seat; and two other pieces secured crosswise on each side to the
outer edges of his raft, and at the distance of about a foot abaft the
seat, gave him a fairly serviceable substitute for rowlocks. He had
already been fortunate enough to find a couple of small oars, and he now
thought he might venture to essay a trip to the wreck.
Small as was his raft, it was still so heavy as to give him some trouble
in the launching of it; but he at length got it fairly afloat, and
seating himself in the centre, adjusted his oars and began to try its
paces. He was greatly surprised to find that he could propel it through
the water at a very fair speed, and without much effort; and, this fact
ascertained, he at once headed straight for the wreck, which he safely
reached in about half an hour.
There were plenty of ropes'-ends dangling from the ship's side, to one
of which he made fast his raft, and laying the oars carefully down in
such a manner as that they would not be likely to slip overboard, he
scrambled on board the wreck and reached the steeply inclined deck.
The wreck appeared to be fully as large as he had supposed; and he was
agreeably surprised to find, on investigation, that she had not received
nearly so much damage as he had anticipated, indeed her injuries seemed
to be confined almost entirely to the loss of her masts, bulwarks, and
deck-houses. The cabin had been on deck; but this was swept away. The
forecastle, however, was below, and into this he descended. It was
arranged in the usual manner on board merchant ships--that is to say, it
had standing bunks round each side of it, in which the bedding of the
unfortunate seamen still remained, precisely as when the ship struck.
The seamen's chests were also there, showing that they had had no time
to make any elaborate preparations for leaving the ship; and the
impression produced upon Gaunt's mind by what he saw was, that when the
ship struck the watch below must have rushed immediately up on deck, and
very soon, if not immediately afterwards, have been swept overboard.
As he was there, not to satisfy his curiosity, but to ascertain of what
value the ship might prove to himself and his friends, he did not
hesitate to open and examine the chests of the poor fellows; but he
found nothing therein except such coarse clothing as is usually worn by
merchant seamen, and a few little odds and ends of no particular value,
except perhaps a sailor's palm or two, with sail-needles; and in one or
two instances a little housewife with sewing needles, thread, etcetera,
neatly arranged.
One of the chests, however, proved to be a carpenter's tool-chest; and
this, although Gaunt had a small tool-chest of his own among his
effects, would be of such priceless value to the little band, that he
determined to secure it then and there; and he accordingly dragged it on
deck at once, in readiness to transfer to his raft. The floor of the
forecastle was quite dry, and this circumstance led Gaunt to hope that
the hull had received no damage; but on raising the hatch leading to the
fore-peak he saw that the place was nearly full of water. His
exploration of the forecastle ended here; and he was about to proceed on
deck when he caught sight of a fishing-line suspended on a nail inside
one of the bunks. This fishing-line he at once secured and took on deck
with him laying it down on top of the carpenter's tool-chest so that it
might not be forgotten when he left the wreck.
He now proceeded to the after end of the wreck. Here the cabins had
been entirely swept away; and he had no means of ascertaining any
particulars as to the ownership of the vessel, the nature of her cargo,
or her destination--the ship's papers and the captain's private
documents having doubtless gone overboard with the wreck of the cabin.
But by looking over the ship's counter he saw that she was named the
_Mermaid_, and that she hailed from the port of Bristol.
That portion of the deck which formed the floor of the cabin had been
covered with oilcloth; and this oilcloth still remained in place,
securely nailed down to the planking. Looking about him Gaunt had no
difficulty in discovering the locality of the hatch leading down to the
lazarette, which, like the rest of the cabin flooring, was covered with
oilcloth, on folding back which he noticed, with satisfaction, that the
sea had been prevented from penetrating into the interior. Raising the
hatch he descended, and found, as he expected, that the place was well
packed with the usual stores supplied to such a ship when bound upon a
long voyage. He opened a few of the cases at haphazard and extracted
from one a bottle of port wine, and from another a tin of preserved
soup; he also found several casks of ship's bread, from one of which he
filled his pockets. With this booty he returned to the deck and
deposited it on the carpenter's tool-chest. He next turned his
attention to the hatches. These were all securely battened down; and he
noticed with great satisfaction that the tarpaulins which covered them
were quite uninjured, and to all appearance perfectly watertight. He
was about to break open the main hatchway, but on further consideration
he decided not to do so until he was prepared to hoist out the cargo and
transfer it to the shore, as he well knew that when the tarpaulin was
removed he would be unable to properly secure it in its place again
without assistance.
His preliminary examination of the wreck was now completed, and the
position of the sun warned him that it was high time for him to see
about returning to the shore. He met with a great deal of trouble in
lowering the heavy tool-chest down the ship's side and safely depositing
it on his flimsy raft; but so much value did he attach to its possession
that he determined not to leave the wreck without it. And he eventually
succeeded, though not until the sun was within half an hour of setting.
This task successfully accomplished, and the fishing-line, bread, wine,
and tin of soup placed in security on the top of the chest, he cast off
and cautiously pulled away to the shore, which he safely reached just as
the sun's upper rim was disappearing below the horizon.
He was by this time desperately hungry, and the first thing to which he
devoted himself was the preparation of supper. His first idea was that
he would be obliged to consume the soup cold; but the prospect of such a
comfortless meal was so little to his taste that he began to look about
for some means of overcoming this disadvantage. What he wanted was a
vessel or a receptacle of some description in which he could heat the
soup and make it somewhat more palatable; and here he remembered having
passed during his morning's ramble on the beach a very large shell of
the species _Tridacna gigas_. He bethought himself of its whereabouts
whilst busily engaged in moving the tool-chest, etcetera, well up above
high-water mark; and having brought the locality to mind he took the tin
of soup in his hand and hastened along the beach. The shell was not
very far distant, and securing it he dragged it to a convenient position
and imbedded it in the soft dry sand, placing the tin of soup in it. He
next collected a quantity of dry twigs and brushwood, of which there was
no lack beneath the trees at a short distance from the beach. He also
collected a quantity of dry leaves, and with these and the brushwood he
built the constituents of a fire, which he next lit with the aid of a
match, a few of which he had taken the precaution to provide himself
with that morning before setting out His next task was to find a few
good large pebbles, of which there was a plentiful supply lying about
just where the sand and the soil proper met. Selecting about two dozen
of the largest he conveyed them to his fire and carefully arranged them
in its midst. He then proceeded to fill the shell--which was to serve
as his cooking pot--with salt water, no fresh-water being at hand; after
which he sat down and waited patiently until the stones which he had
laid in the fire should be sufficiently heated for his purpose. About
twenty minutes sufficed for this, when the hot stones were dropped one
after the other into the shell, by which means the water was very soon
brought to boiling point, and maintained at that temperature long enough
to thoroughly warm the soup, the tin of which he had, after some
difficulty, succeeded in opening with his axe. He then hurried back to
where he had left the wine and the bread, both of which he conveyed to
his extemporised kitchen, and there, with the aid of a small shell
carefully washed, made shift to consume the soup, washing it and the
bread down with a moderate draught of wine. This done, he kneeled down
on the sand and, commending himself and his dear ones to the care of his
Maker, stretched himself out by the side of the fire, and was soon
wrapped in a dreamless sleep which lasted until morning.
He was awakened by a sound so homely and familiar to his ears, that when
he first started up he almost believed that the experiences of the past
few months could have been nothing more than an unusually vivid and
circumstantial dream, and that he should find himself a tenant of some
pleasant English farm-house. The sound--which was the crowing of a
cock--was repeated, and answered from the woods at a distance of perhaps
half a mile, and again answered by another shrill crowing nearer at
hand, but in a different direction. He was astounded. What could be
the meaning of the presence of domestic fowls on this lonely island? He
started to his feet and set off, determined to investigate. The crowing
was repeated often enough to serve him as an effective guide in his
search, and proceeding cautiously he at length found himself quite close
to the spot from whence the sounds apparently proceeded. Still
advancing cautiously he presently heard not only the crowing of a cock
but the loud triumphant clucking with which a hen proclaims to an
admiring world the fact that she has laid an egg. A little further away
he heard, in addition to these sounds, the softer cluck with which a
parent hen calls to her chickens; and presently, peering out from behind
the bole of an enormous teak-tree, he saw not only chanticleer but also
his harem, consisting of half a dozen hens, two of which had broods of
fluffy-looking chickens running at their heels. This was a most
delightful surprise to Gaunt; for though the island seemed to promise
that he and his party would never be likely to want for the means of
sustaining life, here was a supply of food which, carefully looked
after, would be the means of affording them many a dainty dish. The
fresh morning air had again sharpened the solitary man's appetite, which
now admonished him that it was high time to think seriously about
breakfast, and the loud continued clucking of the hen which had laid an
egg reminded him that fresh eggs were very good for breakfast. His
first intention was to confiscate that egg; but a moment's reflection
showed him that if left alone it might eventually become a chicken, and
thus considerably increase in value. He therefore decided to forego the
gratification of fresh eggs for breakfast, and to turn his thoughts in
some other direction.
It occurred to him that fresh eggs being, in the existing state of the
market, too expensive a luxury for breakfast, fresh fish might serve as
a very satisfactory substitute; he therefore made his way to the beach,
and taking his fishing-line, launched the raft and went off as far as
the inner edge of the reef, wondering meanwhile how the presence of
those domestic fowls could be accounted for upon the island. If the
_Mermaid_ had not obviously been wrecked too recently to admit of the
existence of so nourishing a brood, he would have thought that they must
have formed part of the live stock of that vessel, and that when she
struck and her decks were swept, the coops had been smashed and the
fowls had succeeded in effecting their escape to the shore. This,
however, was impossible on the face of it, and he knew not how otherwise
to account for it, unless they had been landed and left by some passing
ship, which seemed even more improbable.
He was not long in reaching the inner edge of the reef, where he laid in
his oars, baited his hook with one of a few shell-fish with which he had
provided himself for the purpose, and dropped the line into the water,
where it had not been above half a minute when he felt a tremendous tug.
Pulling up the line quickly, he found that he had captured a
magnificent nine-pounder in splendid condition, the fish being very like
a salmon in shape, make, and colour, excepting that it had a longer,
sharper head, and a finer tail. Securing his prize, he at once put
about and made for the shore, as he was anxious to reach the camp on the
other side of the island that evening.
Having caught his fish, the next question was how it could be cooked.
He had been revolving this matter in his mind on his return journey from
the reef, and remembered having somewhere read of a process which he
thought would suit his present condition. He remembered having noticed
an outcrop of clay not far from where he had camped on the previous
evening, and making his way to the spot, he secured a sufficient
quantity to serve his purpose. The next thing he required was a
quantity of leaves, and he plunged into the woods to search for some
which might be suitable. He found plenty, but they were all of a class
unknown to him, and as they would come into intimate contact with his
food in the process of cooking, he hesitated about making use of them;
so pushing on a little further, he was fortunate enough to discover an
orange-tree laden with both blossoms and fruit in every stage, from the
little hard green ball the size of a marble, up to the perfect fruit
just changing from dark olive green to a golden yellow. The leaves of
this tree would suit his purpose admirably; so gathering as many as he
required, as well as three or four of the finest specimens of the
ripened fruit, he returned to the beach. Here he at once proceeded to
mould a portion of the clay into a rough semblance of a long narrow dish
of dimensions suitable for the reception of the fish. This clay dish he
thickly lined with orange leaves, upon which he laid his fish entire as
it had come out of the water, covering it with another thick layer of
orange leaves, and then with a thick coating of clay, so that the
completed structure resembled a roughly moulded clay pie with the fish
wrapped in orange leaves in its centre. He now proceeded to light a
fire, and when the brushwood of which it was composed had been reduced
to a mass of glowing red-hot embers, his clay pie was carefully
deposited in the centre; fresh brushwood was heaped thickly on the top,
and he then sat down to await results. In about half an hour the clay
showed signs of cracking, which told him that his culinary operations
were complete; so dragging the mass out from among the embers, he
proceeded to carefully break away the top layer of clay, and there lay
his fish cooked to perfection, a dish fit for a king. Upon this fish,
and a portion of the bread which he had procured from the wreck on the
previous evening, he breakfasted royally; washing down the whole with a
moderate libation of wine, and topping off with a couple of oranges,
after which he was ready to start on his homeward journey. Before
going, however, he hauled up his raft as high as he could get it on the
beach, placed the two oars in safety beside the carpenter's tool-chest,
and roughly thatched over the latter with palm-leaves to protect it from
the weather.