contained in a narrow pit situated in the centre of a circular hollow,
or basin. It was not more than half full, but its sides showed a fresh
and distinct water-mark, more than a foot above the present level. At
the edge of the basin, a solitary palm shot upward its straight shaft,
to the height of nearly a hundred feet; the long, fringed leaves
drooping from the top, like a bunch of gigantic ostrich plumes, and
overshadowing the well. It seemed difficult to account for this supply
of fresh water in so unpromising a spot, and so near the sea-shore. I
was at first inclined to think it nothing more than a reservoir of
standing water, left by the last rains, which had filled not only the
pit, but also the surrounding basin. The former being deep and narrow,
evaporation would be very gradual, which might, I supposed, account for
the small quantity still remaining.
"That can hardly be," said Arthur, when I suggested this explanation,
"the spot is wholly unsheltered from the sun, except at noon, by this
screen of palm-leaves, and if the entire hollow were filled with water
this morning, there would not be a drop of moisture left in three days,
unless the supply were renewed. Besides, the water is too fresh and
sweet to have stood since the last rains."
"I should judge," said Morton, "that this spot is but little above the
level of the lagoon, and if the bottom of the well here, is below that
level at ebb tide, this supply of fresh water can be easily accounted
for."
"The rise and fall of the tide here, does not seem to be more than
eighteen inches, or two feet," said Max, "and as to the depth of the pit
or well, as you call it, you ought to be able to speak with confidence,
having so recently been to the bottom of it."
"There are wells on the low islands of the West Indies," said Morton,
"which communicate with the sea, and rise and fall with the tide, the
sea-water penetrating through the sand, and being distilled in its
passage: and I think this is one of the same kind. Here is a recent
water-mark, more than a foot above the present level. If I am right, we
shall find that the tide is now low."
Arthur thrust a stick into the side of the well to mark the height of
the water, while Johnny rushed furiously down to the beach, and in a
moment came posting back with the announcement that the tide _was_ low.
"Very well, so far," said Arthur, "it only remains to be seen, whether,
when the tide has risen, there will be any corresponding rise here."
"And, meantime," suggested Browne, "let us refresh ourselves with a
bath, before the sun gets higher; and we can also take the opportunity
to give our under garments the benefit of an ablution, as Max has
proposed."
No one can fully appreciate the luxury of sea-bathing who has not
enjoyed it within the tropics.
The calm, transparent water, with the firm white beach and bottom,
looked so deliciously cool and inviting, that the suggestion was adopted
as soon as made; and the expedition with which the preliminaries were
got through with, reminded me of those eager races to "the pond," on the
letting out of the village school at home, of a hot summer afternoon, in
which several of our present company had often been competitors for the
honour of being "the first one in." Arthur warned us to beware of
sharks, and to keep a vigilant look-out for "back fins," and our dread
of those prowling and rapacious monsters, was a great drawback to the
enjoyment of our bath. In all the feats and dexterities of the
swimmer's art, Eiulo far outdid the rest of us, moving through the water
with the ease, rapidity, and gracefulness of a fish. After one or two
trials with him, in swimming under water, and diving for shells, even
Max yielded the palm, declaring that he was ready to match himself
against any land animal, but should for the future decline entering into
a contest of that kind with amphibious creatures.
Eiulo thought that this swimming in smooth water was but indifferent
sport and began to talk to Arthur with great animation, in his native
tongue, about the pleasures of "faahee," or surf-bathing, and the
exquisite fun of dodging the "manos," or sharks, among the rollers.
Presently he struck out into the lagoon, and before we could guess his
intention, he swam over to the reef, and, picking his way across it,
plunged fearlessly among the breakers on the outside. He stayed,
however, but a short time, and came back saying, that the "manos" were
altogether too thick out there, and that a huge blue one, had come near
seizing him in the surf, before he could catch a roller so as to land
safely upon the reef. When blamed by Arthur for his rashness, he
laughed, and promised that he would not incur the risk again. From his
frightened looks when he got back, I guessed that he had not found
"dodging the mano" such exquisite fun as he had anticipated.
Max presently desisted from swimming, in order, as he said, to "do his
washing," consoling himself for the hardship of being obliged to do
laundress' work, with the reflection that the necessity for such a task
would soon cease, as our clothes being in constant use, without the
benefit of a change, could not last long. Browne and I followed this
example, and having spread our garments in the sun to dry, resumed our
aquatic sports in the meantime. Arthur dressed himself and accompanied
by Eiulo, left us, saying that he would rejoin us in an hour at the
hill. The two proceeded a short distance along the shore to the right,
and then turned into the forest to search, as we supposed, for plants,
or roots, capable of being turned to useful account.
By the time our clothes were sufficiently dry to be put on, the tide had
risen considerably, and on repairing to the well, we found the water
several inches above Arthur's mark, thus confirming Morton's theory in
regard to it. Though we should have been better pleased to have
discovered a spring, yet there was no reason to doubt that here was an
ample and permanent supply of fresh water.
As it was now getting towards noon, and the day was excessively hot, we
returned to Castle-Hill, to enjoy the grateful shade of its cool, dark
groves, and the breeze which was sure to play about its summit, if air
was stirring any where. Max sought out a leafy bower of ferns and
creepers, near the foot of the great candle-nut tree, where he stretched
himself out and went to sleep. Johnny got his bow and arrows, and began
to practise archery, by shooting at the large and gaudy insects hovering
around the blossoms of the vines, and when, probably by accident, he
carried away the wing of one of them at the distance of some six or
seven yards, he boasted loudly of the exploit, and intimated that in
case of a brush with any cannibals, his bow might be relied on to do
some execution. Getting tired at length of his crusade against the
butterflies, he expressed a wish to try his skill upon some larger game,
but as nothing in the shape of a jackall or tiger-cat was obliging
enough to make its appearance, he put aside his weapons with a sigh, and
lying down near Max, was soon asleep. There was a drowsy influence in
the profound quiet, and subdued light of the spot, to which I should
soon have yielded but for Browne, who began to talk of Scottish scenes
and legends, with sufficient interest to keep Morton and myself awake.
It seemed strange enough, to lie there in that tropical forest,
listening to an enthusiastic description of the rugged sublimity of the
Trossachs, the romantic beauty of Loch Vennacher, Loch Katrine, and Loch
Achray, or the lovely vale of Kelso, bosomed in green woods, with its
placid streams, smooth lawns, and hazel-fringed dells.
About noon, Arthur and Eiulo made their appearance, emerging from the
grove to the south-east of the hill, laden with roots, plants, strips of
bark, etcetera. They had been looking for the auti, or paper-mulberry,
but without success. Arthur had discovered a large and beautiful
species of sweet-scented fern, with a tuberous root shaped like a
sweet-potato, which he said was baked and eaten by the Society
Islanders: he brought with him several entire specimens, root and all.
The leaves were fragrant and elegantly shaped, and the roots were of a
mottled brown and yellow. Eiulo carried in his hand an unripe
bread-fruit--a splendid pea-green globe, nearly as big as his head.
They had discovered a noble grove of this most valuable tree, at no
great distance from the hill, but the fruit was not yet perfectly ripe.
Johnny, who had awaked at the return of the absentees, was greatly
delighted at these discoveries, and began to lament that he had not
accompanied Arthur. He inquired very particularly as to the direction
of the bread-fruit grove, as if cherishing the design of setting out at
once to visit it; but Browne letting some thing drop about the voice in
the woods, Johnny changed the subject, and saying that it must be nearly
dinner-time, proposed to make a fire, and bake the fern roots, so as to
test their quality. Upon hearing this, Max, whose slumbers had also
been disturbed, raised his head for a moment and exclaimed so vehemently
against the very mention of a fire, when we were already dissolving with
heat, that nothing further was said about it.
"And now," said Arthur, after having given a full account of his
discoveries, and answered all Johnny's questions, "I believe it is just
noon, and while I think of it, I will try to ascertain our longitude."
"Ascertain our longitude!" exclaimed Browne, "pray, how do you propose
to do that without instruments?"
"I know the longitude of the Kingsmill islands," answered Arthur, "and
if I can find our distance east or west of them, of course, I have the
longitude of this island."
"But there's the difficulty; how can you ascertain even whether we are
to the east, or to the west of them?"
"In the first place, then, I have Kingsmill island time; my watch was
last set, one day while we were there, just after Mr Frazer had taken
an observation."
"Do you mean to say," inquired I with some interest, "that you have
regularly wound up your watch every day since then, without once
forgetting or neglecting it during all that has since occurred?"
"I did regularly, every night before sleeping; and during all the time
that we were at sea in the boat, hardly a day passed that I did not note
down some memoranda in my pocket-book."
"That now, is positively diabolical!" exclaimed Max, from his covert
among the creepers, where he was completely invisible, except his heels,
which were kicking in the air; "I wouldn't have believed, Arthur, that
you were such a methodical, cold-blooded creature! I suppose now, that
if I had tumbled overboard during that hideous time, and been gulped
down by a shark, or if Shakespeare had starved to death, you would have
made a regular memorandum of the event, in business-like style, and
wound up your watch as usual. I think I see the entry in your
pocket-book, thus: `1839, June 3rd--Mem. Max Adeler fell overboard this
day, and was devoured by a shark--an amiable and interesting youth,
though too much given to levity, and not prepared, I fear, for so
unexpected a summons. June 5th--Mem. My worthy and estimable friend,
John Browne, late of Glasgow, Scotland, died this day, from lack of
necessary food. Threw him overboard. What startling monitions of the
uncertainty of life!'"
"Peace, Kaiser Maximilien, peace!" cried Browne, "and let the Professor
proceed to fix our longitude."
"The first thing," resumed Arthur, "is to plant a straight stick upright
in the ground; when it casts no shadow east or west it is twelve o'clock
_here_. My watch will then show what time it is at the Kingsmills: if
it shows an earlier hour there, we must be east of them; if a later
hour, then we are west of them."
"I think I understand that," said Johnny; "the next thing is to tell how
far east or west we are."
"That is quite easy. There are, you know, three hundred and sixty
degrees of longitude: the sun passes through them all--that is, round
the globe in twenty-four hours. Then, of course, in one hour, it passes
through fifteen degrees, and through one degree in four minutes; so that
for every four minutes' difference of time, there will be a difference
of longitude of one degree--that is, near the equator, about seventy
miles."
"It must be very near noon now," said Johnny, running out into a patch
of sunshine, where a small opening in the grove let in the light, "see!
I have hardly any shadow at all."
Arthur planted a stick in the ground, and as soon as the shadow marked
the hour of noon, looked at his watch, by which it was eighteen minutes
after twelve.
"It would seem from this," said he, "that we are four degrees and a
half, or over three hundred miles, west of the Kingsmills: it also
appears that we are very near the line, but a little south of it, for
the shadow inclines a little southward."
"It is all nonsense," cried Max, sitting up in the grass, "to pretend to
ascertain where we are, in any such way as this. If your watch, (which
you know is a miserable time-keeper), has lost or gained but twenty
minutes since we left the Kingsmills, which is now nearly two months,
then what becomes of your learned calculations about the difference of
time, and of the longitude, and all that?"
Arthur laughed, and admitted that this grave impeachment of the
character of his chronometer, was not entirely without foundation, and
that in consequence, the strict accuracy of the results arrived at,
could not be relied on.
"The only thing that we can be at all certain about in regard to our
position," said Max, "is, that we are south of the line."
"How can that be?" inquired Browne, "the Pole-star is visible from here,
or, at any rate, we saw it on the second or third night we were at sea
in the boat."
"A part of the Great Bear can be seen," answered Arthur, "but not the
north star, I think. I looked for it last night, and though I could see
all the stars of the Dipper, the pointers were near the horizon, and the
Pole-star below it. But even if visible, it would be no evidence that
we are north of the equator, for I believe it can be seen from the
fourth or fifth degree of south latitude."
"See now," said Browne, "what a pretty neighbourhood you are getting us
into, with your wise calculations! If we are south of the line, and far
west of the Kingsmills, we must be somewhere near the Bidera Sea, and
the Mendana Archipelago, about which the young sailor Roby, who was
always boasting of having sailed with the famous Captain Morell, used to
tell us such wonderful stories."
"It is good ground," replied Arthur, "for one who wants to exercise a
traveller's privilege, and recount marvels and prodigies, without fear
of contradiction. Those seas are full of large islands, with countless
numbers of smaller ones, and remain to this day almost unexplored. In
fact, little more is now ascertained in regard to them, than was known
two hundred and fifty years ago, soon after their discovery by the
Spanish navigator Mendana; so that a man who pretends, as Roby does, to
have gone over the ground himself, may tell pretty much what stories he
pleases, without danger of any one being able to convict him of
inaccuracy."
"What!" exclaimed Johnny, opening his eyes to their utmost extent, "do
you suppose we are near those islands Jack Roby tells about, where the
natives chew betel and lime out of a carbo-gourd, and sacrifice men to
their idols, and tear out and devour the hearts of their enemies?"
"And where King Rogerogee lived," added Max, "(you remember him Johnny),
the giant seven feet and a half high, who wore a paradise plume on his
head, and a girdle of the claws and beaks of birds around his waist?
Why, this may be the very island of Podee over which he reigned, and we
ought not to be greatly surprised to see him look in upon us at any
moment, with his paradise plume waving among the tops of the trees, and
his spear, eighteen feet long, in his hand."
"Don't let Rogerogee disturb your dreams, Johnny," said Arthur, "if
there is any such place as the island of Podee, which I very much doubt,
it is, according to Roby's own account, but a few leagues to the east of
Papua, and some twelve or thirteen hundred miles at least, west of us."
Max now got up, and after stretching himself, and giving three or four
great yawns, came towards the spot where the rest of us were sitting;
but after taking a few steps, he suddenly stopped, uttering an
exclamation of surprise, and looking down at something in the grass at
his feet. He then kicked a dark object out of a tall bunch of fern,
towards us. It was an old beaver hat crushed flat, and covered with
mildew and dirt. Robinson Crusoe was not more startled by the footprint
in the sand, than were we at the sight of this unequivocal trace of
civilised man. Arthur picked it up, and restoring it partially to its
proper shape, examined the inside. On the lining of the crown appeared
in gilt letters--
PIERRE BAUDIN,
CHAPELIER,
RUE RICHELIEU, NUMERO 20.
A PARIS.
"Here, then," said Max, "is an end of the notion that we are the first
inhabitants of this island; it is clear that others have been, if they
are not now upon it. Perhaps, Johnny, this is the hat of the man you
heard talking French in the woods this morning."
"At any rate," said, Arthur, after a moment of thoughtful silence, "this
must be the place where the Frenchman who perished in the water-spout
and his companions, were cast away, and from which they afterwards
reached Eiulo's island in a small boat. The well yonder is probably
their work, and we may perhaps find other evidences of their stay here,
when we come to explore the island more thoroughly."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
ABOUT TEWA.
A DULL CHAPTER, BUT NECESSARY--WAKATTA AND ATOLLO--A GENTLE HINT--MAX AS
AN ARCHITECT.
"In the forest hollow roaring,
Hark! I hear a deepening sound,
Clouds rise thick with heavy lowering,
See! the horizon blackens round."
It must not be inferred from the occasional bursts of holiday humour, in
which we indulged, that we had become reconciled to our exile, and were
now ready to subside into a state of indolent contentment satisfied with
security from present danger, and the abundant means of subsistence
which we had discovered.
Not even a tropical paradise, with its warm, glowing sky and balmy
atmosphere, its "ambrosial fruits and amaranthine flowers," could charm
us into oblivion of home, and those who made it dear; or diminish the
bitterness of the thought of being cut off for ever from human
intercourse, and of having all our plans of life deranged and
frustrated. Though we did not brood continually over our unfortunate
situation, we were far from being insensible to it. The loveliest
island that ever reposed in undiscovered beauty, upon the bosom of the
"blue summer ocean," though rich in all things necessary to supply every
material want, must still have seemed to us but as a gilded and
luxurious prison, from which we should never cease to sigh for an
escape.
Arthur's conclusion, mentioned at the end of the last chapter, seemed in
itself so probable, and was confirmed by so many circumstances, that it
was readily adopted by us all; and believing that the party, of whose
presence at one time upon the island the hat was an evidence, had left
it years ago, the occurrence no longer appeared to possess any
importance, and we dismissed it altogether from our thoughts.
Eiulo, when questioned on the subject of the white men living among his
own people, repeated substantially his former statement, that they came
from an island lying south of his father's, and distant from it less
than a day's sail. It seemed, also, that before the arrival of the
whites, an island lying in the direction from which they had come, had
been known to some, at least, of the natives, and visited by them. In
the course of the conversations which he had with Arthur, at various
times, about his father's people and their affairs, Eiulo had often
spoken of an old warrior, Wakatta by name, famous for his courage and
great personal strength, of which he related many remarkable instances.
Through two generations he had been the most devoted and valued friend
of the family of his chief; and upon his wisdom, sagacity, and prowess,
Eiulo's father and grandfather had relied in many an emergency, and
seldom in vain. Formerly, the three islands were independent of each
other, and were ruled by separate chiefs, who sometimes engaged in
sanguinary wars among themselves, in most of which Wakatta had played a
prominent part.
A great many moons ago, as Eiulo expressed it, the chiefs of the two
smaller islands had united their forces against his grandfather, who was
then chief of Tewa, the third and largest. To this enterprise they had
been incited by Atollo, an uncle of Eiulo, and younger brother of the
present chief, his father. This man was possessed of great ability, and
his reputation as a warrior was second only to that of Wakatta, who was
many years his senior, so that among those of his own age he was
considered without an equal. But, though eminent for talent and
courage, he seemed to be entirely destitute of principle or feeling; and
impelled, as was supposed, by a spirit of unscrupulous ambition, (for no
other motive could be assigned), this unnatural son plotted against the
lives of his own father and elder brother. His designs being
discovered, and fully exposed, he fled to one of the neighbouring
islands, and sought the protection of its chief, his father's most
formidable and inveterate enemy. Afterwards, by his address and energy,
he succeeded in bringing about a league between the chiefs of the two
smaller islands, for the purpose of an attack against Tewa, by their
combined forces. The enterprise was planned with the greatest secrecy,
and executed with equal skill and daring. At midnight, the allies set
sail, in a fleet of war canoes, and two hours before dawn they had
disembarked at Tewa, marched to the principal village, where the chief
resided, and made all their dispositions for the attack, which was so
totally unexpected, that it was crowned with complete success. Scarcely
any resistance was made: the principal Tewan warriors were slain in
their beds, or taken prisoners; and Eiulo's father and grandfather, with
Wakatta, only saved their lives by fleeing to the mountains. Knowing
that the strictest search would be made for them, and that if taken,
instant death would be their doom; they stole forth from their
lurking-place by night, repaired to the beach, and taking a large canoe,
which they discovered there, set sail in her, steering boldly southward,
in search of a considerable island which was believed to lie in that
direction. Soon after sunrise they came in sight of land, but, on
approaching it, they found that the surf was bursting with great fury
upon a barrier reef, stretching between them and the shore; and it was
not until they had coasted along it for many hours, that they succeeded
in effecting a landing. Eiulo had heard both his father and Wakatta
speak of the island as a singularly beautiful spot, nearly as large as
Tewa, and abounding in bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees. Here the
fugitives remained for several months, until, becoming wearied of their
solitary life, and possessed by an irresistible longing to revisit their
homes, they came to the determination to venture back, and learn the
state of things there, at every hazard. They accordingly set sail one
day at noon, in order that they might reach their destination under
cover of night, in which they succeeded.