Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
The Island Home, the Adventures of six Young Crusoes, by Richard Archer.
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This book should be a bit more of a classic than it actually is. It is
thought that Ballantyne used it as the inspiration for his famous "The
Coral Island", for there is good evidence for it. In the 1830s the
Washington left New York, the passengers including some of the young
members of the owners' families and some of their friends. Destination
Canton via the Straits of Magellan. Crossing the Pacific, they land on
various of the islands, such as those in the Fiji and Kingsmill Groups.
Sometimes they encountered particularly nasty inhabitants. One day they
were on the beach of an island, when it became necessary for the
Washington to up anchors and away, leaving the shore party with the
ship's boat. Murders occur among the seamen. The boys set sail in the
boat, hoping to regain contact with some vessel, but never do.
The rest of the book is a story of survival, and of the good humour of
the boys. The real problem with the book is the long paragraphs of
description which nowadays would be much shorter or omitted altogether,
but it was written in the 1850s, and it was Ballantyne's luck that he
was able to write a book along the same lines but far easier to read.
Still, it's worth a quick skim, if nothing more. Your reviewer has
listened to the book several times, and enjoyed it each time.
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THE ISLAND HOME, THE ADVENTURES OF SIX YOUNG CRUSOES, BY RICHARD ARCHER.
CHAPTER ONE.
INTRODUCTION.
"A wet sheet and a flowing sea,
A breeze that follows fast,
That fills the white and rustling sail,
And bends the gallant mast.
And bends the gallant mast, my boys,
Our good ship sound and free,
The hollow oak our palace is,
Our heritage the sea."
It is now some twenty years ago, that the goodly ship Washington,
commanded by Mr Erskine, left the port of New York, on a trading voyage
to the East Indian archipelago. With a select few good seamen, the
owners had also placed on board some youths of their own families and
immediate connections.
Having passed through the Straits of Magellan in safety, they were then
on their way to Canton, where the young men were to be settled; and
meanwhile the ship was to visit any of the isles in the Pacific Ocean
that lay in their path. After some little delay on the part of the
captain among the numerous groups of isles, the purpose of the voyage
was frustrated by the events narrated in the volume. The extreme beauty
of the wild loveliness of nature that these islets exhibited, tempted
the young men, accompanied by Mr Frazer, one of the officers, to land
on one that presented great charms of scenery, as well as having a
convenient and easily accessible landing-place, and from that point the
narrative commences.
It is not necessary for the elucidation of the narrative, to name more
of the crew than those whose adventures are hereafter related by one of
the party. The names of these castaways were John Browne, the son of a
Glasgow merchant; William Morton, and Maximilian Adeler, of New York;
Richard Archer, from Connecticut, the journalist; John Livingstone, from
Massachusetts; Arthur Hamilton, whose parents had settled at Tahiti; and
to them was joined Eiulo, prince of Tewa, in the South-Seas.
The narrative commences from the time of the party landing, and although
in some parts prolix and unequal, being evidently from an unpractised
hand, it bears all the characteristics of a boyish mind, and thus to a
certain extent confirms its genuineness. The sayings and doings of the
young adventurers are recorded with the minuteness that to older heads
seems tedious. This disposition to dwell upon, and to attach importance
to things comparatively trivial, is peculiar to the youthful mind, and
marks that period of freshness, joyousness, and inexperience, when every
thing is new, and possesses the power to surprise and to interest.
What became of the ship and crew we are not informed; but we may
conclude, that insubordination would lead to neglect and carelessness,
and that the vessel was wrecked and plundered by the native; and the
wretched crew murdered or detained.
The South Pacific Ocean abounds with thousands of islands, of a vast
many of which we have no account; but those mentioned in these pages
appear to be the _Samoas_, the _Kingsmill_, and the _Feejee Groups_ of
islands, which lie nearly under the equator, and they are described by
Captain Charles Wilkes, in his narrative of the United States Exploring
Expedition between the years 1838 and 1842. These islands were all
visited by the different vessels engaged in the expedition; many of them
appear to be of volcanic formation, others are of coral origin; they are
all characterised as possessing an exceedingly fertile soil; they abound
with a picturesque beauty of scenery, and luxuriant vegetation, which
excites the most painful feelings when we learn, that where nature has
bestowed so much bounty, the inhabitants are, it is greatly to be
feared, cannibals. In some two or three islands, a solitary white man
was found, one of whom, Paddy Connell, (an Irishman, of course), a
short, wrinkled old man, with a beard reaching to his middle, in a rich
Milesian brogue, related his adventures during a forty years' residence
at Ovolan, one of the Feejees. Paddy, with one hundred wives, and
forty-eight children, and a vast quantity of other live stock, expressed
his content and happiness, and a determination to die on the island. In
other cases, the white men expressed an earnest desire to quit the
island, and were received on board the expedition, to the great grief of
their wives and connections.
The _Samoan Islands_ are of volcanic structure, with coral reefs, and
the harbours are generally within these reefs; and one of them was
discovered by Commodore Byron in 1765, who reported it as destitute of
inhabitants. Their character is variable, and during the winter months
they have long and heavy rains, and destructive hurricanes sometimes
occur. The air is generally moist, and light winds and calms during the
summer, render vegetation luxuriant.
The woods in the interior of these islands are very thick, and are
composed of large and fine trees; there are pandanus, palms, tree ferns,
and a remarkable species of banyan, whose pendant branches take root to
the number of thousands, forming steps of all dimensions, uniting to the
main trunk, more than eight feet above the ground, and supporting a vast
system of horizontal branches, spreading like an umbrella over the tops
of other trees. The bread-fruit is the most abundant of all the trees,
and grows to a very large size; the cocoa-nut, the wild orange, and the
lime, are all to be found. Bamboos, wild sugar-cane, wild nutmeg,
besides many others, only require cultivation. Caoutchouc, gum arabic,
castor beans, ginger, orris root, and coffee, will in time be added to
these productions. Lemons and sweet oranges have already been planted,
and promise a large product.
Swine are abundant and cattle rapidly increasing. Poultry of all kinds
is very plentiful, and fish are taken in abundance.
The beneficent effects of missionary labours are very evident amongst
the Samoans; they are not now subject to wars, and for crimes they have
punishment.
Their habits are regular; they rise with the sun, and after a meal,
bathe and oil themselves, and then go to their occupations for the day;
they eat at one o'clock, and again at eight, retiring to rest about
nine. The men do all the hard work, even to cookery. The women are
held in much consideration, and are treated with great kindness and
attention. They take care of the house and children, prepare the food
for cooking, and manufacture the mats, etcetera.
Their houses are carefully constructed, generally occupying eighteen
months in building; the floor is paved with small round stones, and
divisions or separate apartments formed. In some villages, broad walks
and paths are kept in nice order. The females generally wear a kind of
robe, similar to the poncho of the South Americans; and although not
what may be termed pretty, they have some degree of bashfulness, which
renders them interesting in appearance; when young, they are but little
darker than a brunette, or South American Spaniard.
The entire population of the group is estimated at 60,000, of whom more
than one-fourth have embraced Christianity, and it is understood that
more than two-thirds of the population are favouring the progress of the
gospel. Many thousands attend the schools of the missionaries, and the
habit of reading is fast obliterating the original religion and
superstitions of the race.
Of the _Kingsmill Group_, we possess a very sad account; one named
Drummond's Island, which is of coral formation, is about thirty miles
long, and about three-quarters of a mile in width. The island is
covered with cocoa-nut and pandanus trees, but not a patch of grass was
seen. The character of these islanders is of the most savage kind;
their ferocity led to the belief that they are cannibals; one seaman of
the expedition was carried off, and all attempts to rescue him were
unavailing. Clad in coats of mail, and helmets made of the skin of a
horny kind of fish, with weapons of the most frightful character, formed
from the teeth of some of the voracious monsters of the deep, they
appeared to the number of more than five hundred, prepared for
resistance; their numbers continuing to increase. The officer in
command, considered it both useless and dangerous to continue on the
land. Failing to procure the desired end, prior to returning, the
commanding officer determined to show the power of their arms, and
having shot the leader of the savages dead, by a rocket and a volley,
set their town, which was close to the beach, in flames; and the houses
being formed of easily combustible material, a very short time sufficed
to reduce the whole to ashes. The number of houses was supposed to be
about three hundred.
The people appear to be under no control whatever, and possess little of
the characteristic hospitality usually found among other savage tribes.
It was observed that their treatment of each other exhibited a great
want of feeling; and in many instances their practices were indicative
of the lowest state of barbarism. Their young girls are freely offered
for sale by their fathers and brothers, and without concealment; and to
drive a bargain is the principal object of their visits to a ship.
The _Kingsmill Group_, which consists of fifteen islands, are all of
coral formation--every one appears a continuous grove of cocoa-nut and
pandanus trees--they are all densely inhabited. From one of these
islands, John Kirby, a deserter from an English whaler, was taken, who
had resided there three years. He stated that the natives do sometimes
eat human flesh; but their general food is fish. That these islands
have been peopled at a period not very remote is tolerably certain, as
the natives state that only a few generations back, the people were
fewer than at present, and that then there were no wars.
The islanders of this group differ from other Polynesians, and they more
nearly resemble the Malays. They are of a dark copper colour, are of
middle size, well-made, and slender. Their hair is fine, black, and
glossy--their beards and moustaches black, and fine as the hair of their
heads. The average height of the men is five feet eight inches. The
women are much smaller--they have delicate features, slight figures, and
are generally pretty.
The _Feejee Group_ excel all other islands of Polynesia in their
luxuriant and picturesque beauty--they produce all kinds of tropical
fruits and vegetables--the bread-fruit, of which there are nine kinds,
flourishes in great perfection; the banana, cocoa-nut, and chestnut, the
orange, the lemon, and the guava, the pine-apple, and the nutmeg, are
all to be found; and the yam, which attains the length of above four
feet, is the principal food of the inhabitants; besides these, the
sugar-cane and turmeric are largely cultivated, and different varieties
are found growing wild. Although the Feejeeans have made considerable
progress in several useful arts, they are in many respects the most
barbarous and savage race now existing upon the globe. Having had
considerable intercourse with white men, some effect has been produced
in their political condition, but it has had no effect in mitigating the
ferocity of their character. Messrs. Lythe and Hunt, missionaries at
Vuna, one of the Feejees, have given a circumstantial account of a
cannibal feast, for the preparation of which they were eye-witnesses.
The missionaries having heard rumours that the king had sent for some
men belonging to a refractory town not far from the capital, with the
intention of killing them, and afterwards feasting on their bodies, they
went to the old king to urge him to desist from so horrid and barbarous
a repast, and warned him that a time would come when he would be
punished for it. The king referred them to his son; but the savage
propensities of the latter rendered it impossible for them to turn the
savage from his barbarous purpose. They afterwards saw the bodies cut
up and cooked. On two of these islands, however, the efforts of
missionaries have been rewarded with some success; for the Reverend Mr
Calvert, belonging to the Wesleyan society, assured the officers of the
expedition, that in those islands heathenism was fast passing away, and
that cannibalism was there extinct; but it must be observed that many of
the residents on those two islands were Tongese, among whom it is well
known the light of the gospel of Christ has long prevailed.
On one of those isles are five hot springs, the temperature of which is
200 degrees; the rocks in the neighbourhood is of volcanic creation--
there is no smell of sulphur unless the head is held close to the water;
but the water has a very strong bitter saline taste. These springs are
used by the natives to boil their yams, which it does simply by putting
them into the springs, and covering them with grass and leaves, and,
although the water had scarcely any appearance of boiling before, rapid
ebullition ensues. The yams are well done in fifteen minutes.
The population of the Feejee Group is supposed to be about 130,000.
Their towns are all on the sea-shore, as the chief food is fish. The
Feejeeans are very ingenious at canoe-building and carpentry, and,
curious enough, the barber is a most important personage, as they take
great pains and pride in dressing their hair. Their houses are from
twenty to thirty feet in length, and about fifteen feet in height--all
have fireplaces, as they cook their food, which is done in jars, very
like an oil jar in form.
All these isles are girt by white encircling reefs, which, standing out
at some distance from the shore, forms a natural harbour, so that when a
vessel has once entered, it is as secure as in an artificial dock.
There is generally but one entrance through the reef, and the difficulty
of discovering it is well described by the Young Crusoes. Each one has
its own peculiar beauty; but Ovolan exceeds all others; it is the
highest, the most broken, and the most picturesque.
Having thus introduced our readers to the scene of these adventures, we
proceed to give the narrative in the words of the journalist of the
Young Castaways.
CHAPTER TWO.
THE TROPICAL ISLAND.
A COCOA-PALM--VIEWS OF DESERT ISLAND LIFE.
"O had we some bright little isle of our own,
In the blue summer ocean, far-off and alone."
Wandering along the shore, (taking care to keep in sight of Mr Frazer,
under whose convoy, in virtue of his double-barrelled fowling-piece, we
considered ourselves), we came to a low and narrow point, running out a
little way into the sea, the extremity of which was adorned by a stately
group of cocoa-nut trees.
The spot seemed ill adapted to support vegetation of so magnificent a
growth, and nothing less hardy than the cocoa-palm could have derived
nourishment from such a soil. Several of these fine trees stood almost
at the water's edge, springing from a bed of sand, mingled with black
basaltic pebbles, and coarse fragments of shells and coral, where their
roots were washed by every rising tide: yet their appearance was thrifty
and flourishing, and they were thickly covered with close-packed bunches
of tassel-like, straw-coloured blossoms, and loaded with fruit in
various stages of growth.
Johnny cast a wistful glance at the compact clusters of nuts, nestling
beneath the graceful tufts of long leaves that crowned each straight and
tapering trunk; but he had so recently learned from experience, the
hopelessness of undertaking to climb a cocoa-nut tree, that he was not
at present disposed to renew the attempt. Max, however, who greatly
valued himself upon his agility, and professed to be able to do any
thing that could be done, in the way of climbing, manifested an
intention to hazard his reputation by making the doubtful experiment.
After looking carefully around, he selected for the attempt, a young
tree near the shore, growing at a considerable inclination from the
perpendicular; and clasping it firmly, he slowly commenced climbing, or
rather creeping, along the slanting trunk, while Johnny watched the
operation from below, with an interest as intense as if the fate of
empires depended upon the result.
Max, who evidently considered his character at stake, and who climbed
for "glory," rather than for cocoa-nuts, proceeded with caution and
perseverance. Once he partly lost his hold, and swung round to the
under side of the trunk, but by a resolute and vigorous effort he
promptly recovered his position, and finally succeeded in establishing
himself quite comfortably among the enormous leaves that drooped from
the top of the tree. Here he seemed disposed to rest for a while, after
his arduous and triumphant exertions, and he sat, looking complacently
down upon us from his elevated position, without making any attempt to
secure the fruit which hung within his reach in abundant clusters.
"Hurrah!" cried Johnny, capering about and clapping his hands with glee,
as soon as this much desired consummation was attained, "Now, Max, pitch
down the nuts!"
Having teased Johnny, and enjoyed the impatience caused by the
tantalising deliberation of his own movements, Max detached two entire
clusters of nuts from the tree, which furnished us an abundant supply.
Selecting a pleasant spot beside the beach, we sat down to discuss the
cocoa-nuts at our leisure, which occupied us some little time. Upon
looking round, after we had finished, we discovered that our convoy had
disappeared, and Johnny, whose imagination was continually haunted by
visionary savages and cannibals, manifested considerable uneasiness upon
finding that we were alone.
As the sun was already low in the west, and we supposed that the party
engaged in getting wood had, in all probability, finished their work, we
concluded to return, and to wait for Mr Frazer, and the rest of the
shore party at the boats, if we should not find them already there.
As we skirted the border of the grove, on our return, Johnny every now
and then cast an uneasy glance towards its darkening recesses, as though
expecting to see some wild animal, or a yelling troop of tattooed
islanders rush out upon us. The forest commenced about two hundred
yards from the beach, from which there was a gradual ascent and was
composed of a greater variety of trees than I had observed on the other
islands of a similar size at which we had previously landed. Arthur
called our attention to a singular and picturesque group of
Tournefortias, in the midst of which, like a patriarch surrounded by his
family, stood one of uncommon size, and covered with a species of fern,
which gave it a striking and remarkable appearance. The group covered a
little knoll, that crowned a piece of rising ground, advanced a short
distance beyond the edge of the forest. It was a favourable spot for a
survey of the scene around us. The sun, now hastening to his setting,
was tingeing all the western ocean with a rich vermilion glow. The
smooth white beach before us, upon which the long-rolling waves broke in
even succession, retired in a graceful curve to the right and was broken
on the left by the wooded point already mentioned.
As you looked inland, the undulating surface of the island, rising
gradually from the shore, and covered with the wild and luxuriant
vegetation of the tropics, delighted the eye by its beauty and variety.
The noble Bread-fruit tree--its arching branches clothed with its
peculiarly rich and glossy foliage; the elegantly shaped Casuarina, the
luxuriant Pandanus, and the Palms, with their stately trunks, and green
crests of nodding leaves, imparted to the scene a character of oriental
beauty.
"Why do they call so lovely a spot as this a desert island, I wonder?"
exclaimed Johnny, after gazing around him a few moments in silence.
"Did you ever hear of a desert island that wasn't a lovely spot!"
answered Max. "Why, your regular desert island should combine the
richest productions of the temperate, torrid, and frigid zones--a choice
selection of the fruits, flowers, vegetables, and animal; of Europe,
Asia, and Africa. This would by no means come up to the average
standard. I doubt if you could find upon it so much as a goat or a
poll-parrot much less an `onager,' a buffalo, or a boa-constrictor, some
of which at least are indispensable to a desert island of any
respectability."
"Why, then, do they call such delightful places desert islands!"
repeated Johnny. "I always thought a desert was a barren wilderness,
where there was nothing to be seen but sand, and rocks, and Arabs."
"I believe they are more properly called _desolate_ islands," said
Arthur; "and that seems proper enough; for even this island with all its
beauty, is supposed to be uninhabited, and it would be a very lonely and
_desolate_ home. Would you like to live here, Johnny, like Robinson
Crusoe, or the Swiss family?"
"Not all alone, like Robinson Crusoe. O no! that would be horrible; but
I think we might all of us together live here beautifully a little
while, if we had plenty of provisions, and plenty of arms to defend
ourselves against the savages; and then of course we should want a house
to live in, too."
"Nonsense," said Max, "what should we want of provisions?--the sea is
full of fish, and the forest of birds; the trees are loaded with fruit;
there are oysters and other shell-fish in the bays, and no doubt there
are various roots, good for food, to be had by digging for them. As to
a house, we might sleep very comfortably, in such weather as this, under
these Tournefortias, and never so much as think of taking cold; or we
could soon build a serviceable hut, which would be proof against sun and
rain, of the trunks and boughs of trees, with a thatch of palm-leaves
for a roof. Then in regard to arms, of course, if it should be our fate
to set up for desert islanders, we should be well supplied in that line.
I never heard of any one, from Robinson Crusoe down, being cast away on
a desert island, without a good store of guns, pistols, cutlasses,
etcetera, etcetera. Such a thing would be contrary to all precedent,
and is not for a moment to be dreamed of."
"But we haven't any arms," said Johnny, "except those old rusty
cutlasses that Spot put into the yawl, and if we should be cast away, or
left here, for instance, where should we get them from?"
"O, but we are not cast away yet," replied Max. "This is the way the
thing always happens. When people are cast away, it is in a ship, of
course."
"Why, yes; I suppose so," said Johnny, rather doubtfully. "Well--the
ship is always abundantly supplied with every thing necessary to a
desert island life; she is driven ashore; the castaways--the future
desert islanders--by dint of wonderful good fortune, get safely to land;
the rest of course are all drowned, and so disposed of; then, in due
time, the ship goes to pieces, and every thing needful is washed ashore
and secured by the islanders--that's the regular course of things--isn't
it, Arthur!"
"Yes, I believe it is, according to the story-books, which are the
standard sources of information on the subject."
"Or sometimes," pursued Max, "the ship gets comfortably wedged in
between two convenient rocks, (which seem to have been designed for that
special purpose), so that the castaways can go out to it on a raft, or
float of some kind, and carry off every thing they want--and singularly
enough, although the vessel is always on the point of going to pieces,
that catastrophe never takes place, until every thing which can be of
any use is secured."
"Do you suppose, Arthur," inquired Johnny, "that there are many
uninhabited islands, that have never been discovered!"
"There are believed to be a great many of them," answered Arthur, "and
it is supposed that new ones are constantly being formed by the labours
of the coral insect. A bare ledge of coral first appears, just at the
surface; it arrests floating substances, weeds, trees, etcetera; soon
the sea-birds begin to resort there; by the decay of vegetable and
animal matter a thin soil gradually covers the foundation of coral; a
cocoa-nut is drifted upon it by the winds, or the currents of the sea;
it takes root, springs up, its fruit ripens and falls, and in a few
years the whole new-formed island is covered with waving groves."
"Mr Frazer says he has no doubt that these seas swarm with such
islands, and that many of them have never been discovered," said Max;
besides, here's poetry for it:--
"`O many are the beauteous isles,
Unseen by human eye,
That sleeping 'mid the Ocean smiles,
In happy silence lie.
The ship may pass them in the night,
Nor the sailors know what lovely sight
Is sleeping on the main;'
"But this poetical testimony will make Arthur doubt the fact
altogether."
"Not exactly," answered Arthur, "though I am free to admit that without
Mr Frazer's opinion to back it your poetical testimony would not go
very far with me."
"Hark! There go Mr Frazer's two barrels," cried Max, as two reports in
quick succession were heard, coming apparently from the grove, in the
direction of the spring; "he has probably come across a couple of `rare
specimens,' to be added to his stuffed collection."
CHAPTER THREE.
THE ALARM AND THE CONFLICT.
THE MUTINEERS--THE RACE FOR LIFE--THE CORAL LEDGE--A FINAL EFFORT--A
BRIEF WARNING--THE STRANGE SAIL.
"Now bend the straining rowers to their oars;
Fast the light shallops leave the lessening shores,
No rival crews in emulous sport contend,
But life and death upon the event depend."
The next moment we were startled by a quick, fierce shout, followed
immediately by a long, piercing, and distressful cry, proceeding from
the same quarter from which the reports of fire-arms had been heard; and
before we had time to conjecture the cause or meaning of these frightful
sounds, Morton bounded like a deer from the grove, about a hundred yards
from the spot where we were standing, and ran swiftly towards us, crying
out--"To the boats! for your lives to the boats!"
Our first thought was, that the party at the spring had been attacked
and massacred by the natives. Arthur seized Johnny by one hand, and
motioned to me to take the other, which I did, and without stopping to
demand any explanations, we started at a rapid pace, in the direction of
the yawl, Max taking the lead--Arthur and myself, dragging Johnny
between us, coming next, and Morton a few paces behind us, bringing up
the rear. It took but a few moments to enable us to reach the spot
where the yawl lay, hauled up upon the beach. There was no one in her,
or in sight, except Browne, who was comfortably stretched out near the
boat sound asleep, with an open book lying beside him.
Morton aroused the sleeper by a violent shake. "Now, then," cried he,
"let us get the boat into the water; the tide is down, and the yawl is
heavy; we shall want all the strength we can muster."
By a united effort we got the yawl to the edge of the surf.
Browne, though not yet thoroughly awake, could not but observe our pale
faces and excited appearance, and gazing from one to another in a
bewildered manner, he asked what was the matter; but no one made any
answer. Morton lifted Johnny into the boat and asked the rest of us to
get in, except Arthur, saying that they two would push her through the
surf.
"Hold!" cried Arthur, "let us not be too fast; some of the others may
escape the savages, and they will naturally run this way--we must not
leave them to be murdered."
"There are no savages in the case," answered Morton, "and there is no
time to be lost; the men have killed the first officer, and Mr Frazer,
too, I fear; and they will take the ship and commit more murders, unless
we can get there before them, to warn those on board."
This was more horrible than any thing that we had anticipated; but we
had no time to dwell upon it: the sound of oars rattling in the
row-locks, was heard from beyond the point.
"There are the mutineers!" cried Morton; "but I think that we have the
advantage of them; they must pull round yonder point, which will make at
least a quarter of a mile's difference in the distance to the ship."
"There is no use in trying to get to the ship before them," said Max,
"the long-boat pulls eight oars, and there are men enough to fill her."
"There _is_ use in trying; it would be shameful _not_ to try; if they
pull most oars, ours is the lightest boat," answered Morton with
vehemence.
"It us out of the question," said Browne; "see, is there any hope that
we can succeed?" and he pointed to the bow of the long-boat just
appearing from behind the point.
"O, but this is not right!--Browne! Max! in the name of all that is
honourable, let us make the attempt," urged Morton, laying a hand in an
imploring manner on the arm of each. "Shall we let them take the ship
and murder our friends, without an effort to warn them of their danger?
You, Arthur, are for making the attempt, I know--this delay is wrong:
the time is precious."
"Yes, let us try it," said Arthur, glancing rapidly from the long-boat
to the ship, "if we fail, no harm is done, except that we incur the
anger of the mutineers. I, for one, am willing to take the risk."
Max sprang into the boat, and seized an oar without another word.
"_You_ know well, that I am willing to share any danger with the rest,
and that it was not the danger that made me hesitate," said Browne,
laying his hand on Morton's shoulder, and looking earnestly into his
face; and then, in his usual deliberate manner, he followed Max's
example.
Morton, Arthur, and myself now pushed the boat into the surf and sprang
in. At Arthur's request, I took the rudder; he and Morton seized the
two remaining oars, and the four commenced pulling with a degree of
coolness and vigour, that would not have disgraced older and more
practised oarsmen. As I saw the manner in which they bent to their
work, and the progress we were making, I began to think our chance of
reaching the ship before the crew of the long-boat, by no means
desperate.
Morton, in spite of his slender figure and youthful appearance, which
his fresh, ruddy complexion, blue eyes, and brown curling locks,
rendered almost effeminate, possessed extraordinary strength, and
indomitable energy.
Browne, though his rather heavy frame and breadth of shoulders gave him
the appearance of greater strength than he actually possessed, was
undoubtedly capable, when aroused, of more powerful temporary exertion
than any other of our number; though in point of activity and endurance,
he would scarcely equal Morton or Arthur. Max, too, was vigorous and
active, and, when stimulated by danger or emulation, was capable of
powerful effort. Arthur, though of slight and delicate frame, was
compact and well knit, and his coolness, judgment and resolution,
enabled him to dispose of his strength to the best advantage. All were
animated by that high and generous spirit which is of greater value in
an emergency than any amount of mere physical strength; a spirit which
often stimulates the feeble to efforts as surprising to him who puts
them forth, as to those who witness them.
Browne had the bow-oar, and putting his whole force into every stroke,
was pulling like a giant. Morton, who was on the same side, handled his
oar with less excitement and effort but with greater precision and equal
efficiency. It was plain that these two were pulling Max and Arthur
round, and turning the boat from her course; and as I had not yet
succeeded in shipping the rudder, which was rendered difficult by the
rising and falling of the boat, and the sudden impulse she received from
every stroke, I requested Browne and Morton to pull more gently. Just
as I had succeeded in getting the rudder hung, the crew of the long-boat
seemed to have first observed us. They had cleared the point to the
southward, and we were, perhaps, a hundred yards nearer the long point,
beyond which we could see the masts of the ship, and on doubling which,
we should be almost within hail of her. The latter point, was probably
a little more than half a mile distant from us, and towards the head of
it, both boats were steering. The long-boat was pulling eight oars, and
Luerson, the man who had had the difficulty with the first officer at
the Kingsmill Islands, was at the helm. As soon as he observed us, he
appeared to speak to the crew of his boat, and they commenced pulling
with greater vigour than before. He then hailed us,--"Holloa, lads!
where's Frazer? Are you going to leave him on the island!"
We pulled on in silence.
"He is looking for you now, somewhere along shore; he left us, just
below the point, to find you; you had better pull back and bring him
off."
"All a trick," said Morton; "don't waste any breath with them;" and we
bent to the oars with new energy.
"The young scamps mean to give the alarm," I could hear Luerson mutter
with an oath, as he surveyed, for a moment, the interval between the two
boats, and then the distance to the point.
"There's no use of mincing matters, my lads," he cried, standing up in
the stem; "we have knocked the first officer on the head, and served
some of those who didn't approve of the proceeding in the same way; and
now we are going to take the ship."
"We know it, and intend to prevent you," cried Morton, panting with the
violence of his exertions.
"Unship your oars till we pass you, and you shall not be hurt," pursued
Luerson in the same breath; "pull another stroke at them, and I will
serve you like your friend, Frazer, and he lies at the spring with his
throat slit!"
The ruffian's design, in this savage threat, was doubtless to terrify us
into submission; or, at least, so to appal and agitate us, as to make
our exertions more confused and feeble. In this last calculation he may
have been partially correct, for the threat was fearful, and the danger
imminent; the harsh, deep tones of his voice, with the ferocious
determination of his manner, sent a thrill of horror to every heart.
More than this, he could not effect; there was not a craven spirit among
our number.
"Steadily!" said Arthur, in a low, collected tone; "less than five
minutes will bring us within hail of the ship."
But the minutes seemed hours, amid such tremendous exertions, and such
intense anxiety. The sweat streamed from the faces of the rowers; they
gasped and panted for breath; the swollen veins stood out on their
foreheads.
"Perhaps," cried Luerson, after a pause, "perhaps there is some one in
that boat who desires to save his life; whoever drops his oar shall not
be harmed; the rest die."
A scornful laugh from Morton was the only answer to this tempting offer.
Luerson now stooped for a moment and seemed to be groping for something
in the bottom of the boat. When he rose, it was with a musket or
fowling-piece in his hands, which he cocked, and, coming forward to the
bow, levelled towards us.
"Once more," he cried, "and once for all, drop your oars, or I fire
among you."
"I don't believe it is loaded," said Arthur, "or he would have used it
sooner."
"I think it is Frazer's gun," said Morton, "and he fired both barrels
before they murdered him; there has been no time to reload it."
The event showed the truth of these suspicions; for, upon seeing that
his threat produced no effect, Luerson resumed his seat in the bows, the
helm having been given to one of the men not at the oars.
We were now close upon the point, and, as I glanced from our pursuers to
the ship, I began to breathe more freely. They had gained upon us; but
it was inch by inch, and the goal was now at hand. The long-boat,
though pulling eight oars, and those of greater length than ours, was a
clumsier boat than the yawl, and at present heavily loaded; we had
almost held our own with them thus far.
But now Luerson sprang up once more in the bow of the long-boat, and
presented towards us the weapon with which he had a moment before
threatened us; and this time it was no idle menace. A puff of smoke
rose from the muzzle of the piece, and, just as the sharp report reached
our ears, Browne uttered a quick exclamation of pain, and let fall his
oar.
For a moment all was confusion and alarm; but Browne, who had seized his
oar again almost instantly, declared that he was not hurt; that the ball
had merely grazed the skin of his arm; and he attempted to recommence
rowing; before, however, he had pulled half-a-dozen strokes, his right
hand was covered with the blood which streamed down his arm.
I now insisted on taking his oar, and he took my place at the helm.
While this change was being effected, our pursuers gained upon us
perceptibly. Every moment was precious. Luerson urged his men to
greater efforts; the turning point of the struggle was now at hand, and
the excitement became terrible.
"Steer close in; it will save something in distance," gasped Morton,
almost choking for breath.
"Not too close," panted Arthur; "don't get us aground."
"There is no danger of that," answered Morton, "it is deep, off the
point."
Almost as he spoke, a sharp, grating sound was heard, beneath the bottom
of the boat, and our progress was arrested with a suddenness that threw
Max and myself from our seats. We were upon a ledge of coral, which at
a time of less excitement we could scarcely have failed to have observed
and avoided, from the manner in which the sea broke upon it.
A shout of mingled exultation and derision, as they witnessed this
disaster, greeted us from the long-boat, which was ploughing through the
water, but a little way behind us, and some twenty yards further out
from the shore.
"It is all up," said Morton, bitterly, dropping his oar.
"Back water! Her stern still swings free," cried Arthur, "the next
swell will lift her clear."
We got as far aft as possible, to lighten the bows; a huge wave broke
upon the ledge, and drenched us with spray, but the yawl still grated
upon the coral.
Luerson probably deemed himself secure of a more convenient opportunity,
at no distant period, to wreak his vengeance upon us: at any rate there
was no time for it now; he merely menaced us with his clenched fist, as
they swept by. Almost at the same moment a great sea came rolling
smoothly in, and, as our oars dipped to back water, we floated free:
then a few vigorous strokes carried us to a safe distance from the
treacherous shoal.
"One effort more!" cried Arthur, as the mutineers disappeared behind the
point; "we are not yet too late to give them a warning, though it will
be but a short one."
Again we bent to the oars, and in a moment we too had doubled the point,
and were in the wake of the long-boat. The ship lay directly before us,
and within long hailing distance.
"Now, comrades, let us shout together, and try to make them understand
their danger," said Browne, standing up in the stern.
"A dozen strokes more," said Arthur, "and we can do it with more certain
success."
Luerson merely glanced back at us, as he once more heard the dash of our
oars; but he took no farther notice of us: the crisis was too close at
hand.
On board the ship all seemed quiet. Some of the men were gathered
together on the starboard bow, apparently engaged in fishing; they did
not seem to notice the approach of the boats.
"Now, then!" cried Arthur, at length, unshipping his oar, and springing
to his feet, "one united effort to attract their attention--all
together--now, then!" and we sent up a cry that echoed wildly across the
water, and startled the idlers congregated at the bows, who came running
to the side of the vessel nearest us.
"We have got their attention; now hail them," said Arthur, turning to
Browne, who had a deep powerful voice; "tell them not to let the
long-boat board them."
Browne put his hands to his mouth, and in tones that could have been
distinctly heard twice the distance, shouted--"Look-out for the
long-boat--don't let them board you--the men have killed the first
officer, and want to take the ship!" From the stir and confusion that
followed, it was clear that the warning was understood.
But the mutineers were now scarcely twenty yards from the vessel,
towards which they were ploughing their way with unabated speed. The
next moment they were under her bows; just as their oars flew into the
air, we could hear a deep voice from the deck, sternly ordering them to
"keep off," and I thought that I could distinguish Captain Erskine
standing near the bowsprit.
The mutineers gave no heed to the order; several of them sprang into the
chains, and Luerson among the rest. A fierce, though unequal struggle,
at once commenced. The captain, armed with a weapon which he wielded
with both hands, and which I took to be a capstan-bar, struck right and
left among the boarders as they attempted to gain the deck, and one, at
least of them, fell back with a heavy plunge into the water. But the
captain seemed to be almost unsupported; and the mutineers had nearly
all reached the deck, and were pressing upon him.
"Oh, but this is a cruel sight!" said Browne, turning away with a
shudder. "Comrades, can we do nothing more?"
Morton, who had been groping beneath the sail in the bottom of the boat
now dragged forth the cutlasses which Spot had insisted on placing there
when we went ashore.
"Here are arms!" he exclaimed, "we are not such boys, but that we can
take a part in what is going on--let us pull to the ship!"
"What say you!" cried Arthur, glancing inquiringly from one to another;
"we can't, perhaps, do much, but shall we sit here and see Mr Erskine
murdered, without _trying_ to help him!"
"Friends, let us to the ship!" cried Browne, with deep emotion, "I am
ready."
"And I!" gasped Max, pale with excitement, "we can but be killed."
Can we hope to turn the scale of this unequal strife? shall we do more
than arrive at the scene of conflict in time to experience the vengeance
of the victorious mutineers?--such were the thoughts that flew hurriedly
through my mind. I was entirely unaccustomed to scenes of violence and
bloodshed, and my head swam, and my heart sickened, as I gazed at the
confused conflict raging on the vessel's deck, and heard the shouts and
cries of the combatants. Yet I felt an inward recoil against the
baseness of sitting an idle spectator of such a struggle. A glance at
the lion-hearted Erskine still maintaining the unequal fight, was an
appeal to every noble and generous feeling: it nerved me for the
attempt, and though I trembled as I grasped an oar, it was with
excitement and eagerness, not with fear.
The yawl had hardly received the first impulse in the direction of the
ship, when the report of fire-arms was heard.
"Merciful heavens!" cried Morton, "the captain is down! that fiend
Luerson has shot him!"
The figure which I had taken for that of Mr Erskine, was no longer to
be distinguished among the combatants, some person was now dragged to
the side of the ship towards us, and thrown overboard; he sunk after a
feeble struggle; a triumphant shout followed, and then two men were seen
running up the rigging.
"There goes poor Spot up to the foretop," said Max, pointing to one of
the figures in the rigging; "he can only gain time at the best but it
can't be that they'll kill him in cold blood."
"Luerson is just the man to do it," answered Morton; "the faithful
fellow has stood by the captain, and that will seal his fate--look! it
is as I said," and I could see some one pointing, what was doubtless Mr
Frazer's fowling-piece, at the figure in the foretop. A parley seemed
to follow; as the result of which, the fugitive came down and
surrendered himself. The struggle now appeared to be over, and quiet
was once more restored.
So rapidly had these events passed, and so stunning was their effect,
that it was some moments before we could collect our thoughts, or fully
realise our situation; and we sat, silent and bewildered, gazing toward
the ship.
Max was the first to break silence; "And now, what's to be done?" he
said, "as to going aboard, that is of course out of the question: the
ship is no longer our home."
"I don't know what we can do," said Morton, "except to pull ashore, and
stand the chance of being taken off by some vessel, before we starve."
"Here is something better," cried Max eagerly, pointing out to sea; and,
looking in the direction indicated, we saw a large ship, with all her
sails set, steering directly for us, or so nearly so, as to make it
apparent that if she held on her present course, she must pass very near
to us. Had we not been entirely engrossed by what was taking place
immediately around us, we could not have failed to have seen her sooner,
as she must have been in sight a considerable time.
"They have already seen her on board," said Morton, "and that accounts
for their great hurry in getting up anchor; they don't feel like being
neighbourly just now, with strange vessels."
In fact, there was every indication on board of our own ship, of haste,
and eagerness to be gone. While some of the men were at the capstan,
getting up the anchor, others were busy in the rigging, and sail after
sail was rapidly spread to the breeze, so that by the time the anchor
was at the bows, the ship began to move slowly through the water.
"They don't seem to consider us of much account anyway," said Max, "they
are going without so much as saying good-bye."
"They may know more of the stranger than we do," said Arthur, "they have
glasses on board; if she should be an American man-of-war, their hurry
is easily explained."
"I can't help believing that they see or suspect more, in regard to her,
than appears to us," said Morton, "or they would not fail to make an
attempt to recover the yawl."
"It is rapidly getting dark," said Arthur, "and I think we had better
put up the sail, and steer for the stranger."
"Right," said Morton, "for she may possibly tack before she sees us."
Morton and myself proceeded to step the mast, and rig the sail;
meantime, Arthur got Browne's coat off, and examined and bandaged the
wound on his arm, which had been bleeding all the while profusely; he
pronounced it to be but a trifling hurt. A breeze from the south-east
had sprung up at sunset, and we now had a free wind to fill our sail, as
we steered directly out to sea to meet the stranger, which was still at
too great a distance to make it probable that we had been seen by her
people.
It was with a feeling of anxiety and uneasiness, that I saw the faint
twilight fading away, with the suddenness usual in those latitudes, and
the darkness gathering rapidly round us. Already the east was wrapped
in gloom, and only a faint streak of light along the western horizon
marked the spot where the sun had so recently disappeared.
"How suddenly the night has come upon us," said Arthur, who had been
peering through the dusk toward the approaching vessel, in anxious
silence; "O, for twenty minutes more of daylight! I fear that she is
about tacking."
This announcement filled us all with dismay, and every eye was strained
towards her with intense and painful interest.