Seldom have the mysterious sparks of life been sought for more
anxiously, or tended and nursed with greater care, than were the little
sparks of fire which were evoked with difficulty from Tomlin's
match-box.
Drizzling rain had commenced just as the wrecked party landed. The
tarpaulin had been set up as a slight, though very imperfect, shelter;
the ground underneath had been strewn with twigs and grass, and a large
pile of dead branches had been arranged to receive the vital spark
before any attempt was made to create it.
"Everything must be quite ready, first," said Hayward to Tomlin, "for
our very lives depend, under God, on our securing fire; so keep the
matches snug in your pocket till I ask for them."
"I will," replied Tomlin, "D'you know it never occurred to me before how
tremendously important the element of fire is? But how will you ever
manage to make the branches catch, everything being so thoroughly
soaked?"
"You shall see. I have had to make a fire in worse circumstances than
the present," returned Hayward, "though I admit they are bad enough.
Have you got the small twigs broken and ready, Slag?"
"All ready, sir."
"Now look here, Tomlin."
As he spoke, the doctor picked up a dead but wet branch, and, sheltering
himself under the tarpaulin, began to whittle it with his penknife. He
found, of course, that the interior of the branch was dry. The thin
morsels which he sliced off were handed to Slag, who placed them with
great care in the heart of a bundle of very small twigs resembling a
crow's nest. A place had been reserved for this bundle or nest, in the
heart of the large pile of branches lying on the ground. Meanwhile,
Slag held the nest ready in his hands.
"Now, Tomlin, get out your matches," said the doctor.
With the utmost care the anxious man unfolded the kerchief, and, opening
the box, looked into it earnestly.
"Wet?" asked Hayward.
Tomlin shook his head. "I fear they are." He took one out, while the
whole party assembled round him to note the result.
The first match dropped its head like a piece of soft putty when scraped
on the lid. The second did the same, and a suppressed groan escaped
from the little group, for it could be seen that there were not more
than ten or twelve matches in the box altogether. Again and again a
match was struck with similar result. The fifth, however, crackled a
little, and rekindled, sinking hope in the observers, though it failed
to kindle itself. The seventh burst at once into a bright blaze and
almost drew forth a cheer, which, however, was checked when a puff of
wind blew out the new-born flame.
"Och! let Bob Massey try it!" cried O'Connor. "Sure he's used to
workin' in throublesome weather."
"Right, boy," said Slag, "hand it to the coxs'n."
Tomlin readily obeyed, only too glad to get some of the failure shifted
to other shoulders.
Massey readily undertook the task, and success attended his first
effort.
"I knowed it!" said Nellie, in a quiet tone, as she saw the bright flame
leap up and almost set her husband's beard on fire. "Bob never fails!"
The burning match was quickly plunged into Hayward's handful of
shavings, which blazed up as he thrust it into Slag's nest; and Slag,
holding the nest with the tender care of a loving sick-nurse, and the
cool indifference of a salamander, till it was a flaming ball, crammed
it into the heart of the pile of sticks. Tremendous was the volume of
smoke that arose from the pile, and anxious were the looks riveted on
it.
"Sure ye've smothered it intirely," gasped O'Connor.
"Oh, me!" sighed Peggy in a voice of mild despair.
"No fear, it's all right," said Massey, in a confident tone, while Joe
Slag, on his knees, with cheeks inflated and nose all but kindling, blew
at the glowing heart with unwearied determination, regardless alike of
friend and foe.
"It's going to do," remarked John Mitford in his most dismal tone.
"Any child might tell that," said Nellie, with a light laugh.
The laugh seemed infectious, for the whole party joined in as a glorious
gush of flame rushed among the sticks, dried up the dampness, and
effectually changed the pillar of smoke into a pillar of fire.
The fire thus kindled was rightly deemed of such vital importance that
it was not permitted to go out thereafter for many months, being watched
night and day by members of the party appointed to the duty by turns.
It had, indeed, not a few narrow escapes, and more than once succeeded
in reaching what appeared to be its last spark, but was always caught in
time and recovered, and thus was kept burning, until a discovery was
made which rendered such constant attendance and care unnecessary.
"Now," said Dr Hayward, when the fire was safely established, "we have
not much daylight left, so it behoves us to make the most of it. You
are a man of action and experience, Robert Massey, what would you advise
us to do first?"
"Well, doctor, since you're good enough to ask me, I would advise that
we should appoint a leader. You see, mates," he continued, addressing
himself to the company in general, "there's no possibility of a ship
gettin' along without a captain, or an army without a general. If we
was going off to a wreck now, with or without a lifeboat, I would claim
a sort o' right to be coxswain in virtue o' past experience; but, as
we've now begun a sort o' shore-goin' business, which requires a deal o'
general knowledge, besides seamanship, an' as Dr Hayward has got that
by edication, I move that we make him our leader."
"Right you are, Bob," said Joe Slag. ("As he always is," said Nellie,
_sotto voce_.) "So I second the move--if that's the reg'lar way to do
it."
"Hear, hear!" said every one with right good will, and a gleam of pride
flashed from Eva's pretty brown eyes as her husband was thus unanimously
appointed leader of the shipwrecked band.
Like a sensible man, knowing his capacity, he at once accepted the
command without any display of undue modesty, and proved his fitness by
at once going to work.
"The first thing, then, is to thank God for our deliverance, which we
all do, I am sure, most heartily."
This was received with a responsive "Amen" from every one--not even
excepting Black Ned.
"Next, we must find fresh water and boil a bit of pork--"
"Ah, then, we haven't a kittle!" exclaimed O'Connor.
"Haven't we a big baling-dish, Terrence?" said Hayward.
"Sure we have, sor, an' it's a tin wan as'll stand fire," returned
Terrence with a reproved look.
"Well, then, you go fetch it; wash it well out, and get the pork ready.
Jarring and Tomlin will gather as much dead wood as they can find and
pile it beside the fire. Mitford will search for fresh water--there
must be a spring or brook not far off--and Massey and I will rig up some
sort of shelter for the night."
"Please, sir, may I go with Mitford to seek for water?" asked Nellie.
"By all means, if you wish to."
"And I will keep you company, Nell," said Mrs Hayward energetically.
"So will I," chimed in little Mrs Mitford, feebly. "I was always fond
of water. As a child I used to paddle about in it continually, an'
sometimes tumbled into it, for of course young people will--"
"No, Peggy, you must sit by the fire with my wife," said the doctor.
"Neither of you is fit for work of any kind yet, so sit down and warm
yourselves."
Eva was too wise, and Peggy too weak, to offer objection, so these two
sat by the fire while the others went to work.
Energy of action tends to lighten the burdens that may be laid on human
spirits, and to induce the most favourable view of the worst
circumstances. The toil which the party now undertook was such a
blessed relief to them after the prolonged exposure to cold and
comparative inaction in the boat, that all returned to the camp-fire in
a much more cheerful state of mind than they left it. The searchers for
water came back first, having found what they sought close at hand; and
Terrence, filling his baling-dish, soon had the pork boiling, along with
some mysterious herbs gathered by the doctor to convert the liquid into
soup. Tomlin and Black Ned returned heavily laden with firewood, and
Bob Massey discovered a tree with branches sufficiently spreading and
leafy to protect them to some extent from rain.
"'Tis as well we have found overhead protection, Massey," said the
doctor, when our coxswain led him to the spot, "for I have been thinking
that as we have no blankets, we shall be obliged to use our tarpaulin as
a quilt rather than an umbrella."
"That's true, sir," returned Massey, "but how about the women?"
"Well, I've been thinking about that," said Hayward, "and I've devised a
plan for to-night at least; to-morrow I hope to hit on a better
arrangement. First of all, we'll spread in front of a fire, which we
will kindle beneath this tree, a layer of branches and grass. In the
middle of this the women will lie down side by side, after having dried
and warmed themselves thoroughly at the fire. Then we'll take two of
the floor planks from the boat, and put one on each side of them--
partially frame them, as it were. Then one half of us men will lie down
on one side of the frame, the other half on the other side, and we'll
draw the tarpaulin over us all."
"Hm! not very comfortable," said Massey, "for the poor women to be
framed like that."
"Admitted; but what else can we do?" said Hayward. "It would risk our
lives to sleep without covering of any kind in such cold weather, and
with sleet falling as it does now. Better have the sheet spread upon us
than merely over our heads. So now let's kindle another fire, and do
you arrange our couch, Bob."
In spite of the cold and the sleet, things looked much more cosy than
persons unacquainted with "roughing it" could believe possible, and they
became comparatively happy when the couch was spread, and they were
seated under the sheltering tree, with the fire blazing and crackling in
front of them, suffusing their faces and persons and the leaf-canopy
overhead with a deep red glare, that contrasted well with the
ebony-black surroundings, while a rich odour of pork soup exhaled from
the baling-dish.
"Ah! now there's nothin' wantin' to produce parfit felicity but a pipe,"
said O'Connor with a sigh.
"That's so, lad," assented Tomlin, echoing the sigh, and feeling in his
pocket from force of habit, though he knew too well that nothing was to
be found there.
"Here, Terrence," said Massey, handing him an empty pipe, at the same
time asking him to shut his eyes and draw, and try to imagine himself
smoking, but Terrence shook his head.
"I couldn't do that, Bob," he said, "but I'll sing ye a stave in praise
o' the weed."
Without waiting for permission, the jovial Irishman at once began:
"Oh! it's 'baccy as is my chief joy,
At mornin', noon and night;
An' it's verily my belief, boy,
That I love it with all my might.
If your liver an' lungs are squeakin',
An' your head is growin' cracky,
There's nothin' so sure to kill or cure,
As fumes o' the strongest 'baccy."
"If it would improve your voice, Terrence," observed Mr Mitford,
meekly, "I'm sure I wish ye had pounds of it, for it's that harsh--
though, of course, I make no pretence to music myself, but--"
"Just listen to that now, `Harsh!' an' that to a man whose own mother,
by the father's side, towld him he shud make music his purfession!
Arrah, howld on, Black Ned, ye spalpeen; ye've had two helpin's
already!"
This latter remark had reference to the baling-dish of soup which was
being passed round the party, so that each might help himself to two
mouthfuls of soup before passing it on. As they had no spoons, the
doctor had extemporised ladles of folded bark, which served the purpose
pretty well.
"Haven't ye a small bit o' 'baccy in the corner o' wan o' yer pockets,
doctor, dear?" asked Terrence, insinuatingly. "May be ye'd find a
morsel if ye'd try."
"Quite useless to try, my poor fellow," returned the doctor, with a look
of affected pity, "for I'm a non-smoker. I never indulge in such an
absurdity."
"Sure, it's a true proverb that says `doctor's differ,'" retorted
O'Connor, "for most o' the saw-bones of my acquaintance have smoked like
lime kilns."
"More's the pity, Terrence, but if you'll heave on some more firewood
you'll have a smoke that may do as a substitute at present."
By heaping quantities of fresh branches on the fire till it was large
enough to roast an ox, the party managed to pass the night in
comparative comfort, in spite of cold and sleet. Hayward watched the
fire during the first part of the night. Then he was relieved by our
coxswain, who was succeeded by Joe Slag, and no Vestal virgins ever
tended their fire with more anxious solicitude than those three men
guarded theirs during that first night on the island.
As if to make up for the sufferings of the past few days, the morning
that followed broke with unclouded splendour, and the rising sun shone
upon as beautiful a scene as could well be imagined, for it revealed an
island richly clothed with verdure, which, rising out of a calm blue
sea, sloped gradually upwards, until its western ridge met the bright
sky. Evidently that terminating ridge was the place whence descended
the precipitous cliffs, along which they had sailed immediately after
leaving the cave of the wreck.
There is no accounting for the eccentricities of weak-minded females,
whether pretty or plain. The first thing that pretty little Mrs
Mitford exclaimed on opening her eyes and beholding the glorious view
was--
"Oh! I _do_ so wish that we had oysters for breakfast!"
If she had expressed a desire for elephant chops, she could not have
taken Eva Hayward more by surprise. As for Nell Massey, she went off
into a hilarious giggle.
"I fear there are no oysters hereabouts," said Hayward, "but I shouldn't
wonder if we were to find mussels and things of that sort. Come, lads,
we'll go and have a search for them, while the ladies fill and boil our
kettle."
Limpets, mussels, and other shell-fish were found in great abundance.
With these warm soup was soon made, and after a hearty breakfast,
Hayward organised the party in two bands which were sent off in
different directions to explore the island, Peggy and her husband being
left behind to cook the dinner and keep up the fire.