For several days the shipwrecked party continued to live chiefly on
limpets and mussels gathered on the sea-shore. Only a very little of
the pork was used, for the purpose of converting the food into soup. As
they could not tell, of course, how long they might be compelled to live
there, it behoved them to be very careful of the food-supply already in
possession. Fortunately, the weather continued fine, though cold, so
that it was not necessary at first to make any alteration in their camp
arrangements.
During this period much of their time was necessarily spent in laying in
a stock of shell-fish, and in attempting to bring down with stones some
of the gulls which flew inquisitively about and very temptingly near to
the camp, but none of the party was a good marksman with stone
ammunition, and it soon became evident that unless some other means of
obtaining food were discovered there was every prospect of starvation
ending their career.
In this emergency Dr Hayward organised an exploring expedition on a
more extended scale. He divided the party into three bands--one
consisting of Ned Jarring, Tomlin, and himself, to examine the shores;
another comprising Joe Slag, John Mitford, and O'Connor, to penetrate
the interior and higher lands; while it was appointed to Bob Massey, who
had by that time come to be more frequently addressed by his old title
of "coxswain," to stay at the camp, keep the all-important fire going,
and guard the women.
"You see, we must go about this business thoroughly," said the doctor,
when they were all assembled in the camp one day after their frugal
meal, excepting O'Connor, who was a short distance off, trying, with
unwearied perseverance and unvaried failure, to kill gulls with stones.
"And for this purpose, we must hold a council of war. Where's
Terrence?"
"He's pelting the gulls as usual," said Black Ned.
"A-missin' of 'em, you mean," suggested Mitford.
"Hallo, Terrence!" shouted Hayward, catching sight of the Irishman at
that moment. "Here! we want you."
"Comin', sor, jist wan more shot at this baste. He's bin flyin' round
me hid for half-an-hour at laste, winkin' at the stones as they go by
him. Och! missed again--bad luck to ye!"
As he uttered the malediction the disappointed man heaved a last stone,
angrily and without an attempt at an aim. He did not even look up to
observe the result, but turned sharply round towards the camp.
That stone, however, was like the arrow shot at a venture. It hit the
bird full on the breast and brought it down, which fact was made known
to the sportsman by a cheer from the camp and a heavy thud behind him.
"Well done, Terrence!" cried Hayward as he came up with his prize. "I
regard it as a good omen--a sort of turn in the tide which will
encourage us on our contemplated expedition."
The leader then gave minute instructions as to how long they were to be
away; how much food they were to take; the direction to be followed, and
the work to be done.
"In short," said the doctor in conclusion, "we must use our eyes, ears,
and limbs to the best advantage; but bear in mind that the grand object
of the expedition is--"
"Grub," suggested O'Connor.
"Just so. Grub is our first and greatest necessity. Meanwhile, Peggy,
Nell, and Eva will do what they can to make our camp comfortable: gather
mussels and other shell-fish and see that the coxswain does not eat more
than a fair share of victuals, and conducts himself in all respects like
an obedient and trusted servant."
With such and similar touches of pleasantry Hayward sought to cheer the
spirits of the party, and divert their minds from dwelling too much on
the fact that their case was a very serious one--almost desperate, for
they were on a comparatively small island, far to the southward of the
usual track of ships, without food or shelter, and without any of the
ordinary means of procuring either.
The remainder of that day was spent in making preparation for the
projected expedition. As they had no offensive or defensive arms,
except two gully knives, their first business was to provide each man
with a spear. Fortunately, some of the surrounding trees had very
straight branches of various sizes, so they had only to cut down such as
were suitable, and peel the bark off. But the formation of hard points
gave them some anxiety, until Tomlin hit upon the idea of utilising the
bones of their pork.
"The very thing!" said Mitford, with a look of melancholy satisfaction.
Having no turn whatever for mechanics, he never saw difficulties till
they met and overcame him, and was always ready to rush in where
mechanical angels--if we may say so--feared to tread.
"And how would you propose to cut the bones, John?" asked Slag, with an
air of modest simplicity.
"Cut 'em? eh! well--wi' the knife, of course."
It was found, however, that the knife made but slight impression on the
bones, and after one or two vain attempts, they turned to a more
effective method. Finding a huge boulder of some kind of sandstone they
broke it up, and on the rough surface thus produced, ground the bones
into sharp points, and by an ingenious method known to Slag, who learned
it from the Eskimos, they fixed these firmly on the ends of their
spears.
Thus armed, and with a small quantity of cold pork, and a large
allowance of cold boiled limpets and mussels in their wallets, they set
out on their explorations.
It is impossible to accompany two parties at once. Let us follow just
now the one composed of Joe Slag, Terrence O'Connor, and John Mitford.
These, with Joe as their leader, proceeded along the shore some miles in
a northerly direction; and then, turning into the bush, which was
nowhere thick, they pushed into the interior of the island. After
advancing about ten miles they came on a wide stretch of sandhills or
downs, and found that, having crossed a sort of isthmus, they had come
out again on the sea-shore.
"This won't do," said Slag, on making the discovery. "We'll have to
steer d'rect for the highest land."
"That's so, Joe," said Mitford, "and yonder's a height away there, right
in the wind's eye, that will act as a beacon to us."
"I sees it, John--but, I say, what's the matter wi' Terrence?"
This question was drawn forth by the action of the Irishman, who had
walked on about fifty yards in advance of his comrades. He was standing
in the attitude of an ancient Roman about to discharge a javelin.
Stooping low as if to render themselves less conspicuous, Mitford
muttered, "hallo!" and his comrade whispered, "Sh! he sees suthin'!"
Whatever it was he saw, O'Connor evidently felt too far off to act
effectively, for, after standing a moment in the classic position just
referred to, he suddenly lowered his spear, dropped on hands and knees,
and made a slow, undignified advance of a few yards. Then he rose
again, became classic once more and discharged his spear, in a manner
that would have done credit to Achilles himself.
The growl that followed, and the "bad luck to ye," that came faintly
back on the breeze, told too plainly that the result was a miss.
"Sure it's a rabbit I saw," he said, returning to his companions, "an'
if I'd only sent it two yards more to the left, I'd have hit the baste!"
To the satisfaction of the explorers, it was found that the sandhills
were burrowed all over by rabbits, and that there existed there a large
colony of them. Cheered by this--in spite of their bad javelin play--
they made for the high ground, and soon found themselves threading a
belt of wood, after crossing which they reached the foot of the range of
hills that bounded the island to the westward.
It was a weird, rugged spot, covered with great boulders that had rolled
down the hill-sides, and with gaps and chasms here and there of
considerable depth, that suggested the idea of volcanic action having
visited the place at some remote period. These chasms or rents in the
earth were overgrown with trees or bushes in many places, and obliged
the travellers to make wide detours in some places to avoid them.
Thus they were so much delayed that night was upon them before they had
reached the higher parts of the hill-range where they had intended to
encamp.
The difference between blanketing and gossamer is great, yet it is
inconceivably slight compared with the difference between gossamer and
nothing! In the pride of their strength the members of the exploring
party lay down to sleep without covering of any kind, for the good
reason that they possessed none, and before morning they would gladly
have given a fabulous price for even a gossamer coverlet.
"It's freezin' I am, if not froze," said Terrence O'Connor at the end of
the second sleepless hour. "If we could have only brought away some o'
the fire in our pockets, what a comfort it would have bin!"
He got up, shook himself, and slapped his arms across his breast
vigorously.
Slag and Mitford followed his example.
"I'm beginnin' to feel better on the outside," continued O'Connor,
pausing, "but my spinal marrow isn't properly warm yet."
"'Minds me o' Baffin's Bay," growled Slag, with a mighty slap of the
arms between each word.
Mitford seemed to think any remark superfluous, for he only groaned.
"Pity it's too dark to see yer face, John," said Terrence. "It must be
a sight worth seein'. Och, av I only had a good-sized pocket-han'kicher
I'd wrap me feet in it, anyhow."
"Suppose we cut some grass and try that?" suggested Mitford.
The suggestion was acted on.
It was slow work cutting grass with a clasp-knife; tearing it up in
handfuls was still slower, but the labour warmed the tired explorers,
and when they lay down again under this Adam-an'-Eveic bedding, they
fell asleep almost immediately, and did not waken till the sun was
pretty well up in the eastern sky.
"Breakfast fust," said Slag, on completing a tremendous stretch and
yawn. "It's always bin my way since I was a babby--business first;
pleasure to foller. Grub is business, an' work is pleasure--leastwise,
it ought to be to any man who's rated `A. One' on the ship's books.
Hallo! sorrowful-monkey-face, clap a stopper on yer nose an' tumble
up,--d'ye hear?"
Mitford did not hear, but a touch of Slag's toe caused him to feel and
to rise.
O'Connor was already astir, preparing breakfast. Cold boiled mussels
and a bit of pork may be good food, but it is not appetising.
Consequently they did not linger long over the meal, but were soon
striding up the mountain-side rejoicing in the fresh air and sunshine.
There was a certain phase in John Mitford's character which had not yet
been discovered by his friends, and was known only to his wife. He was
romantic--powerfully so. To wander through unknown lands and be a
discoverer had been the dream of his youth. He was naturally reticent,
and had never said so to any one but Peggy, who, being the reverse of
romantic, was somewhat awe-stricken by the discovery, and, in an
imbecile way, encouraged him to hope that, "one of these days he'd 'ave
'is desires gratified, as there was nothink to prevent 'im from goin' to
Novazealand--if that was the right way to pronounce it--or to Van Demons
land--not in a sinful way of course, for they had given up transportin'
people there now--though wherever they transported 'em to she couldn't
imagine--anyhow, there was nothink to prevent his tryin'." And John did
try, which was the primary cause of his being a member of the exploring
party now under consideration.
Influenced by his romantic spirit, Mitford betrayed a troublesome
tendency to wander from his comrades in pursuit of the Unknown.
O'Connor, with the straightforward simplicity of his nation, set it down
to pig-headedness. Slag, being a man of feeling, opined that it was
absence of mind.
"The spalpeen! he's off again," said O'Connor, turning round as they
halted to rest a minute, after breasting the hill for half-an-hour.
"Hallo, John! Where are ye, boy?"
"Here--all right," shouted a voice in the distance, "I'm exploring
behind the knoll here. Go ahead; I'll meet ye at the top o' the hill."
By that time they were within about an hour's walk of the highest ridge
of the island, so they pushed on without delay, expecting to find their
lugubrious friend there before them, or not far behind them. It turned
out as had been supposed. The mountain ridge formed the summit of the
great precipice, along the foot of which they had sailed after quitting
the cavern, or, as they had come to call it, the wreck-cave. For some
time the two stood on the giddy edge, looking in silence on the
tremendous depths below, and the sublime spectacle of illimitable sea
beyond, with its myriad facets gleaming in the sunshine.
Then they bethought them of their comrade, and turned back to look for
him; hallooing now and then as they went, and expecting every moment to
see him emerge from one of the gorges that led to the ridge. But there
was no answering shout, or any sign of his having been there. Soon,
becoming anxious and then alarmed, the two men set to work in earnest to
search for their lost comrade, but they sought in vain. Returning to
the spot where they had last heard his voice, they continued the search
in that direction, and made the rocks echo with their shouting. Still
no John Mitford was to be found, and the curious thing was that there
seemed to be no very rugged or precipitous formation of land where he
could easily have met with an accident. At last, evening approached.
"We must go back at wance," said O'Connor, with anxious looks, "an'
rouse all the men out to seek for him wi' torches."
Without another word they turned and made for the camp as fast as they
could go.
Meanwhile, Dr Hayward and his party had been successful in their
exploration, for they not only discovered a rabbit-warren, but had
observed seals basking on the rocks, and found the tracks of goats, or
some animal of that kind with divided hoofs. They had even succeeded in
getting between a young seal and the water and speared it, so that there
was something like jubilation in the camp on their return at the
prospect of a fresh meal and better fare in future.
But this was abruptly put an end to by the arrival of Slag and his
comrade with the news of Mitford's disappearance. Poor Mrs Mitford was
thrown into a state of terrible alarm, and at first insisted on
accompanying the search party, but under the united entreaties of Eva
and Nelly she was prevailed on to remain behind.
With torches made of resinous wood, which burnt admirably, they searched
all that night, and, taking only a few hours' rest, continued the search
all the following day, but without success. Day after day the search
was continued, even after all hope of ever again seeing their comrade
alive had died out, but at last they were compelled to give it up and
devote themselves to the urgent duty of procuring better shelter and
food.
As for poor Mrs Mitford, she sank into a state of helpless and hopeless
despair.