The important question, Typee or Happar?—A wild-goose chase—My
sufferings—Disheartening situation—A night in the ravine—Morning
meal—Happy idea of Toby—Journey towards the valley.
Recovering from my astonishment at the beautiful scene before me, I
quickly awakened Toby, and informed him of the discovery I had made.
Together we now repaired to the border of the precipice, and my
companion’s admiration was equal to my own. A little reflection,
however, abated our surprise at coming so unexpectedly upon this
valley, since the large vales of Happar and Typee, lying upon this side
of Nukuheva, and extending a considerable distance from the sea towards
the interior, must necessarily terminate somewhere about this point.
The question now was as to which of those two places we were looking
down upon. Toby insisted that it was the abode of the Happars, and I
that it was tenanted by their enemies, the ferocious Typees. To be sure
I was not entirely convinced by my own arguments, but Toby’s
proposition to descend at once into the valley, and partake of the
hospitality of its inmates, seemed to me to be risking so much upon the
strength of a mere supposition, that I resolved to oppose it until we
had more evidence to proceed upon.
The point was one of vital importance, as the natives of Happar were
not only at peace with Nukuheva, but cultivated with its inhabitants
the most friendly relations, and enjoyed beside a reputation for
gentleness and humanity which led us to expect from them, if not a
cordial reception, at least a shelter during the short period we should
remain in their territory.
On the other hand, the very name of Typee struck a panic into my heart
which I did not attempt to disguise. The thought of voluntarily
throwing ourselves into the hands of these cruel savages, seemed to me
an act of mere madness; and almost equally so the idea of venturing
into the valley, uncertain by which of these two tribes it was
inhabited. That the vale at our feet was tenanted by one of them, was a
point that appeared to us past all doubt, since we knew that they
resided in this quarter, although our information did not enlighten us
further.
My companion, however, incapable of resisting the tempting prospect
which the place held out of an abundant supply of food and other means
of enjoyment, still clung to his own inconsiderate view of the subject,
nor could all my reasoning shake it. When I reminded him that it was
impossible for either of us to know anything with certainty, and when I
dealt upon the horrible fate we should encounter were we rashly to
descend into the valley, and discover too late the error we had
committed, he replied by detailing all the evils of our present
condition, and the sufferings we must undergo should we continue to
remain where we then were.
Anxious to draw him away from the subject, if possible—for I saw that
it would be in vain to attempt changing his mind—I directed his
attention to a long bright unwooded tract of land which, sweeping down
from the elevations in the interior, descended into the valley before
us. I then suggested to him that beyond this ridge might lie a
capacious and untenanted valley, abounding with all manner of delicious
fruits; for I had heard that there were several such upon the island,
and proposed that we should endeavour to reach it, and if we found our
expectations realized we should at once take refuge in it and remain
there as long as we pleased.
He acquiesced in the suggestion; and we immediately, therefore, began
surveying the country lying before us, with a view of determining upon
the best route for us to pursue; but it presented little choice, the
whole interval being broken into steep ridges, divided by dark ravines,
extending in parallel lines at right angles to our direct course. All
these we would be obliged to cross before we could hope to arrive at
our destination.
A weary journey! But we decided to undertake it, though, for my own
part, I felt little prepared to encounter its fatigues, shivering and
burning by turns with the ague and fever; for I know not how else to
describe the alternate sensations I experienced, and suffering not a
little from the lameness which afflicted me. Added to this was the
faintness consequent on our meagre diet—a calamity in which Toby
participated to the same extent as myself.
These circumstances, however, only augmented my anxiety to reach a
place which promised us plenty and repose, before I should be reduced
to a state which would render me altogether unable to perform the
journey. Accordingly we now commenced it by descending the almost
perpendicular side of a steep and narrow gorge, bristling with a thick
growth of reeds. Here there was but one mode for us to adopt. We seated
ourselves upon the ground, and guided our descent by catching at the
canes in our path. The velocity with which we thus slid down the side
of the ravine soon brought us to a point where we could use our feet,
and in a short time we arrived at the edge of the torrent, which rolled
impetuously along the bed of the chasm.
After taking a refreshing draught from the water of the stream, we
addressed ourselves to a much more difficult undertaking than the last.
Every foot of our late descent had to be regained in ascending the
opposite side of the gorge—an operation rendered the less agreeable
from the consideration that in these perpendicular episodes we did not
progress a hundred yards on our journey. But, ungrateful as the task
was, we set about it with exemplary patience, and after a snail-like
progress of an hour or more, had scaled perhaps one half of the
distance, when the fever which had left me for awhile returned with
such violence, and accompanied by so raging a thirst, that it required
all the entreaties of Toby to prevent me from losing all the fruits of
my late exertion, by precipitating myself madly down the cliffs we had
just climbed, in quest of the water which flowed so temptingly at their
base. At the moment all my hopes and fears appeared to be merged in
this one desire, careless of the consequences that might result from
its gratification. I am aware of no feeling, either of pleasure or of
pain, that so completely deprives one of all power to resist its
impulses, as this same raging thirst.
Toby earnestly conjured me to continue the ascent, assuring me that a
little more exertion would bring us to the summit, and that then in
less than five minutes we should find ourselves at the brink of the
stream, which must necessarily flow on the other side of the ridge.
“Do not,” he exclaimed, “turn back, now that we have proceeded thus
far; for I tell you that neither of us will have the courage to repeat
the attempt, if once more we find ourselves looking up to where we now
are from the bottom of these rocks!”
I was not yet so perfectly beside myself as to be heedless of these
representations, and therefore toiled on, ineffectually endeavouring to
appease the thirst which consumed me, by thinking that in a short time
I should be able to gratify it to my heart’s content.
At last we gained the top of the second elevation, the loftiest of
those I have described as extending in parallel lines between us and
the valley we desired to reach. It commanded a view of the whole
intervening distance; and, discouraged as I was by other circumstances,
this prospect plunged me into the very depths of despair. Nothing but
dark and fearful chasms, separated by sharp crested and perpendicular
ridges as far as the eye could reach. Could we have stepped from summit
to summit of these steep but narrow elevations we could easily have
accomplished the distance; but we must penetrate to the bottom of every
yawning gulf, and scale in succession every one of the eminences before
us. Even Toby, although not suffering as I did, was not proof against
the disheartening influences of the sight.
But we did not long stand to contemplate it, impatient as I was to
reach the waters of the torrent which flowed beneath us. With an
insensibility to danger which I cannot call to mind without shuddering,
we threw ourselves down the depths of the ravine, startling its savage
solitudes with the echoes produced by the falling fragments of rock we
every moment dislodged from their places, careless of the insecurity of
our footing, and reckless whether the slight roots and twigs we
clutched at sustained us for the while, or treacherously yielded to our
grasp. For my own part, I scarcely knew whether I was helplessly
falling from the heights above, or whether the fearful rapidity with
which I descended was an act of my own volition.
[Illustration: AT LAST WE GAINED THE TOP OF THE SECOND ELEVATION]
In a few minutes we reached the foot of the gorge, and kneeling upon a
small ledge of dripping rocks, I bent over to the stream. What a
delicious sensation was I now to experience! I paused for a second to
concentrate all my capabilities of enjoyment, and then immerged my lips
in the clear element before me. Had the apples of Sodom turned to ashes
in my mouth, I could not have felt a more startling revulsion. A single
drop of the cold fluid seemed to freeze every drop of blood in my body;
the fever that had been burning in my veins gave place on the instant
to death-like chills, which shook me one after another like so many
shocks of electricity, while the perspiration produced by my late
violent exertions congealed in icy beads upon my forehead. My thirst
was gone, and I fairly loathed the water. Starting to my feet, the
sight of those dank rocks, oozing forth moisture at every crevice, and
the dark stream shooting along its dismal channel, sent fresh chills
through my shivering frame, and I felt as uncontrollable a desire to
climb up towards the genial sunlight as I before had to descend the
ravine.
After two hours’ perilous exertions we stood upon the summit of another
ridge, and it was with difficulty I could bring myself to believe that
we had ever penetrated the black and yawning chasm which then gaped at
our feet. Again we gazed upon the prospect which the height commanded,
but it was just as depressing as the one which had before met our eyes.
I now felt that in our present situation it was in vain for us to think
of ever overcoming the obstacles in our way, and I gave up all thoughts
of reaching the vale which lay beyond this series of impediments; while
at the same time I could not devise any scheme to extricate ourselves
from the difficulties in which we were involved.
The remotest idea of returning to Nukuheva unless assured of our
vessel’s departure, never once entered my mind, and indeed it was
questionable whether we could have succeeded in reaching it, divided as
we were from the bay by a distance we could not compute, and perplexed
too in our remembrance of localities by our recent wanderings. Besides,
it was unendurable the thought of retracing our steps and rendering all
our painful exertions of no avail.
There is scarcely anything when a man is in difficulties that he is
more disposed to look upon with abhorrence than a right-about
retrograde movement—a systematic going over of the already trodden
ground: and especially if he has a love of adventure, such a course
appears indescribably repulsive, so long as there remains the least
hope to be derived from braving untried difficulties.
It was this feeling that prompted us to descend the opposite side of
the elevation we had just scaled, although with what definite object in
view it would have been impossible for either of us to tell.
Without exchanging a syllable upon the subject, Toby and myself
simultaneously renounced the design which had lured us thus
far—perceiving in each other’s countenances that desponding expression
which speaks more eloquently than words.
Together we stood towards the close of this weary day in the cavity of
the third gorge we had entered, wholly incapacitated for any further
exertion, until restored to some degree of strength by food and repose.
We seated ourselves upon the least uncomfortable spot we could select,
and Toby produced from the bosom of his frock the sacred package. In
silence we partook of the small morsel of refreshment that had been
left from the morning’s repast, and without once proposing to violate
the sanctity of our engagement with respect to the remainder, we rose
to our feet, and proceeded to construct some sort of shelter under
which we might obtain the sleep we so greatly needed.
Fortunately the spot was better adapted to our purpose than the one in
which we had passed the last wretched night. We cleared away the tall
reeds from a small but almost level bit of ground, and twisted them
into a low basket-like hut, which we covered with a profusion of long
thick leaves, gathered from a tree near at hand. We disposed them
thickly all around, reserving only a slight opening that barely
permitted us to crawl under the shelter we had thus obtained.
These deep recesses, though protected from the winds that assail the
summits of their lofty sides, are damp and chill to a degree that one
would hardly anticipate in such a climate; and being unprovided with
anything but our woollen frocks and thin duck trousers to resist the
cold of the place, we were the more solicitous to render our habitation
for the night as comfortable as we could. Accordingly, in addition to
what we had already done, we plucked down all the leaves within our
reach and threw them in a heap over our little hut, into which we now
crept, raking after us a reserved supply to form our couch.
That night nothing but the pain I suffered prevented me from sleeping
most refreshingly. As it was, I caught two or three naps, while Toby
slept away at my side as soundly as though he had been sandwiched
between two Holland sheets. Luckily it did not rain, and we were
preserved from the misery which a heavy shower would have occasioned
us.
In the morning I was awakened by the sonorous voice of my companion
ringing in my ears and bidding me rise. I crawled out from our heap of
leaves, and was astonished at the change which a good night’s rest had
wrought in his appearance. He was as blithe and joyous as a young bird,
and was staying the keenness of his morning’s appetite by chewing the
soft bark of a delicate branch he held in his hand, and he recommended
the like to me, as an admirable antidote against the gnawings of
hunger.
For my own part, though feeling materially better than I had done the
preceding evening, I could not look at the limb that had pained me so
violently at intervals during the last twenty-four hours, without
experiencing a sense of alarm that I strove in vain to shake off.
Unwilling to disturb the flow of my comrade’s spirits, I managed to
stifle the complaints to which I might otherwise have given vent, and
calling upon him good-humouredly to speed our banquet, I prepared
myself for it by washing in the stream. This operation concluded, we
swallowed, or rather absorbed, by a peculiar kind of slow sucking
process, our respective morsels of nourishment, and then entered into a
discussion as to the steps it was necessary for us to pursue.
“What’s to be done now?” inquired I, rather dolefully.
“Descend into that same valley we descried yesterday,” rejoined Toby,
with a rapidity and loudness of utterance that almost led me to suspect
he had been slyly devouring the broadside of an ox in some of the
adjoining thickets. “What else,” he continued, “remains for us to do
but that, to be sure? Why, we shall both starve, to a certainty, if we
remain here; and as to your fears of those Typees—depend upon it, it is
all nonsense. It is impossible that the inhabitants of such a lovely
place as we saw can be anything else but good fellows; and if you
choose rather to perish with hunger in one of these soppy caverns, I
for one prefer to chance a bold descent into the valley, and risk the
consequences.”
“And who is to pilot us thither,” I asked, “even if we should decide
upon the measure you propose? Are we to go again up and down those
precipices that we crossed yesterday, until we reach the place we
started from, and then take a flying leap from the cliffs to the
valley?”
“’Faith, I didn’t think of that,” said Toby; “sure enough, both sides
of the valley appeared to be hemmed in by precipices, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” answered I; “as steep as the sides of a line-of-battle ship, and
about a hundred times as high.” My companion sank his head upon his
breast, and remained for awhile in deep thought. Suddenly he sprang to
his feet, while his eyes lighted up with that gleam of intelligence
that marks the presence of some bright idea.
“Yes, yes,” he exclaimed; “the streams all run in the same direction,
and must necessarily flow into the valley before they reach the sea;
all we have to do is just to follow this stream, and sooner or later,
it will lead us into the vale.”
“You are right, Toby,” I exclaimed, “you are right; it must conduct us
thither, and quickly too; for, see with what a steep inclination the
water descends.”
“It does, indeed,” burst forth my companion, overjoyed at my
verification of his theory, “it does, indeed; why, it is as plain as a
pike-staff. Let us proceed at once; come, throw away all those stupid
ideas about the Typees, and hurrah for the lovely valley of the
Happars!”
“You will have it to be Happar, I see, my dear fellow; pray Heaven, you
may not find yourself deceived,” observed I, with a shake of my head.
“Amen to all that, and much more,” shouted Toby, rushing forward; “but
Happar it is, for nothing else than Happar can it be. So glorious a
valley—such forests of bread-fruit trees—such groves of cocoa-nut—such
wildernesses of guava-bushes! Ah, shipmate! don’t linger behind: in the
name of all delightful fruits, I am dying to be at them. Come on, come
on; shove ahead, there’s a lively lad; never mind the rocks; kick them
out of the way, as I do; and to-morrow, old fellow, take my word for
it, we shall be in clover. Come on”; and so saying, he dashed along the
ravine like a madman, forgetting my inability to keep up with him. In a
few minutes, however, the exuberance of his spirits abated, and,
pausing for awhile, he permitted me to overtake him.