and inclined to rest. The water was shallow at this point, and Max
wading over to the little island, presently called upon us to follow him
if we wished to behold "a veritable banyan tree." Whether a banyan or
not, (Arthur pronounced it to be a species of barren fig), it was
certainly a wonderful specimen of vegetation. The main trunk, springing
up in the centre of the islet, was nearly three feet in diameter. At
the height of some fifteen feet from the ground, large branches extended
horizontally in every direction. From these branches, at regular
intervals, pendulous, vine-like shoots sprouted and grew downwards until
they reached the ground, where they took root, and gradually increasing
in size formed new trunks or pillars, to support a further extension of
the branches. This process of growth had gone on until the tree had
overrun the entire island, resembling a flat roof of green branches,
resting upon rows of columns. Some of the perpendicular shoots had not
yet reached the ground, others had just taken root, and were slender and
flexible, while many of the older ones rivalled the parent stem in size,
and could not easily be distinguished from it.
While we rested here, a pair of the little brown songsters alighted
among the branches of the "banyan," and entertained us with a vocal
performance, in which they took up the strain alternately, responding to
each other, and occasionally uniting in a chorus.
Max now declared himself savagely hungry, and commenced exploring the
neighbourhood in search of something eatable. But no fruit-bearing
trees were to be found, and he returned from his foraging expedition
protesting that the country was a perfect desert, and declaring that he
for one would not proceed a step farther until he took up the line of
march for home. We were all of the opinion that we had done enough for
one day, and it was agreed that, after resting ourselves a short time,
we should commence our return.
Meantime, Arthur caught sight of some trees upon a ridge of land a short
distance further up the stream, whose foliage resembled, as he thought,
that of the "auti," or cloth plant. Saying that he would return in a
few moments, he walked along the west bank of the brook in the direction
of the ridge, followed by Johnny and Eiulo, who seemed as animated and
unwearied as ever. Presently they turned a bend in the stream, and we
lost sight of them. For lack of more interesting occupation, I began to
count the stems of the grove-tree. There were seventeen, of large size,
and a great number of smaller ones. Max discovered a deep pool at the
lower end of the islet, in which were a number of fish, marked like
yellow perch: and as he had a fishing-line of Eiulo's manufacture, in
his pocket he amused himself by angling, using wood-beetles for bait.
Morton and Browne hunted up four flat stones, and commenced pitching
quoits.
After half an hour passed in these various ways, we began to wonder at
Arthur's long delay, and to grow impatient for his return. I had
counted every stem of the banyan-fig, great and small. Max had become
quite disgusted with angling for fish, which were too wary, or too
well-fed, to favour him with even a nibble. Browne, after being beaten
for five successive games, had very naturally lost his interest in the
sport, and tossed his quoits into the brook.
Another half-hour passed, and still the absentees failed to make their
appearance. Max now professed to be suffering from the pangs of hunger,
and longed for the sight even of the much-abused cocoa-nut tree. At
last our patience being utterly exhausted, we resolved to go in search
of Arthur and his suite, whose protracted absence greatly surprised us.
On reaching the point, or bend, behind which they had disappeared, we
hallooed loudly, but there was no answer. As we proceeded, the ground
became very rough and broken, and the bed of the brook was full of loose
rocks. A little further on, the noise of a waterfall was heard, and
after one or two more turns, we reached a spot where the stream leaped
down a precipice some twenty feet. Our further progress in the
direction we were pursuing was barred by a wall of rock; an active and
fearless climber might, it is true, have scaled it by the aid of the
stunted shrubs and jutting crags upon its face, but we knew that Arthur
accompanied by Eiulo and Johnny, could not have passed on by any such
route.
Proceeding to the left, along the foot of the precipice, and pausing at
short intervals to repeat our halloos, we at last reached a wide fissure
in the rock, by scrambling through which we gained the higher level.
This was in all probability a part of the ridge which Arthur had seen
from the islet. We now returned along the brow of the precipice until
we came to the waterfall, where we shouted again, but still without
getting any answer. To push the search further in this direction seemed
useless, for it was morally certain that Arthur would not have continued
beyond this point up the stream; the understanding with which he had
left us, forbade any such supposition.
We began now to feel alarmed, and to fear that some accident had
befallen them, though of what nature we were at a loss to conjecture.
Morton suggested the possibility that they had taken the opposite bank
of the brook, and that while we were looking for them, they might have
returned to the islet. This seemed not improbable, and striving hard to
convince ourselves that it must be so, we regained the lower level by
the same pass through which we had ascended, and hastened along the base
of the height, and down the shore of the stream till we reached the
islet again. But our companions were not there. Still, they might have
returned during our absence, and supposing that we had started homeward,
proceeded after us. We were greatly perplexed what course to pursue.
If we delayed our return much longer, we should not be able to reach the
cabin before night set in: the wilderness around seemed to contain
nothing that could serve as food, and we should have to fast as long as
we remained in it. Then, too, our waiting longer could be of no benefit
to the others, even if they had not yet returned to the islet. Upon
finding us gone, they would know at once that we had set out for home,
and there was no possibility of their mistaking their way thither.
We concluded, accordingly, to return without further delay. Browne cut
a stout stick, and planted it in the sand at the margin of the brook,
arranging a number of large pebbles at its foot, in the form of a hand,
with the index finger pointing homeward. We then set out at a brisk
pace, with some hope, but little actual expectation, of overtaking our
companions on the war.
We soon reached the thick wood with its matted undergrowth, and the old
and knotted vines twining like enormous reptiles around the trunks of
the trees; and so slow was our progress through it, that, when we
emerged into the open country, it was nearly sunset. The remaining
distance was more rapidly accomplished. As we drew nigh to the cabin, I
began to look anxiously for the appearance of the missing ones. Each
moment I expected to see Johnny rushing towards us with a laughing boast
of having "beaten us home." But no one came forth to meet us, and I
thought that the valley had never before looked so lonely.
It was not, however, entirely deserted. The parrot was perched in
solitary state upon the eaves of the cabin, and as we opened the gate,
he flapped his wings, and croaked forth in dismal tones a sentence which
Johnny, little dreaming of its present application, had been at much
pains to teach him:--"Poor Paul's lonesome!" he cried, "they're all
gone--all gone!"
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
THE SEARCH.
HOME SWEET HOME--MAX ON MOONLIGHT--FOLLOWING A TRAIL--THE CONCEALED
CANOE.
"Where'er thou wanderest, canst thou hope to go
Where skies are brighter, or the earth more fair?
Dost thou not love these aye-blue streams that flow,
These spicy forests, and this golden air?
"O yes! I love these woods, these streams so clear,
Yet from this fairy region I would roam,
Again to see my native hills--thrice dear!
And seek that country, of all countries,--Home."
Max hastened to collect fuel, and kindle a fire, in order to prepare
some food. Assuming, as usual, the entire superintendence and control
of the culinary department, and every thing connected therewith, he set
Browne to work washing and scraping tara-roots, despatched me after a
fresh supply of fuel, and sent Morton with the hand-net down to the
fish-pond to take out a couple of fish for a broil. But while thus
freely assigning tasks to the rest of us, with the composed air of one
accustomed to the exercise of unquestioned authority, he by no means
shrunk from his own fair share of the work; and having got the fire
burning cleverly by the time that Morton returned with the fish, he
rolled up his sleeves, and with an air of heroic fortitude, commenced
the necessary, but somewhat unpleasant process of cleaning them.
Night had now set in, but the sky being perfectly clear, and the moon at
her full, it was scarcely darker than at early twilight.
Max seemed to prolong his culinary operations to the utmost, either from
pure love of the employment, or with the still lingering hope, that our
companions might yet arrive in time to partake of our supper.
At last however, it became apparent that the cookery could not, without
serious detriment, be longer protracted. The bursting skin of the taro
revealed the rich mealy interior, and eloquently proclaimed its
readiness to be eaten. The fish were done to a turn, and filled the
cabin with a savoury odour, doubly grateful to our nostrils after a
twelve hours' fast. Max declared with a sigh, that another moment upon
the gridiron would ruin them, and he was reluctantly compelled to serve
up the repast without further delay, when, notwithstanding our growing
anxiety on account of Arthur's absence, we made a hearty meal. After
feeding Monsieur Paul, and setting by some food in readiness for our
companions when they should arrive, as we still hoped they would do in
the course of the evening, we went out to a spot above the cascade,
where Morton and Browne had arranged some rude fragments of basalt, so
as to form a semicircle of seats, which, if less comfortable than
well-cushioned arm-chairs would have been, might at any rate be
considered in decidedly better "rural taste," and in more harmonious
keeping with the character of the surrounding scene.
From this point we could trace the windings of the brook for some
distance in one direction, while below us, in the opposite one, spread
the moonlit lake, reflecting in its mirror-like surface the dark masses
of foliage that fringed its shores. It was one of those tranquil,
dreamy nights, known only in tropical countries. A subtle fragrance of
fresh buds and blossoms filled the air. The light streamed in a silvery
flood upon the tufted tops of the groves; while in the solemn shade
beneath, the serried trunks reared themselves in long ranks, like the
grey columns of some Gothic ruin.
As we sat listening to the murmur of the waterfall, the rustling of the
trees, and the distant and muffled booming of the surf, I fell into a
dreamy reverie, which was at length dissipated by Browne's voice--
"Can any thing be more beautiful than this scene at this moment!"
exclaimed he, "and yet I do not know when I have experienced such a
weariness of it all--such an intense longing for home, as I feel
to-night."
"I shall begin to believe in mesmeric sympathy," said Morton, "I was
myself just thinking of home. Home, sweet home!" and he heaved a
long-drawn sigh.
Yes! the charm and illusion of our island life had long ended. We were
tired of tropical luxuriance, and eternal summer. Glowing skies, and
landscapes like a picture, had almost ceased to gratify even the eye. I
longed for a glimpse of a rugged New England hill once more. A gnarled
New England oak, though stripped by wintry winds of every leaf, would be
a sight more grateful to me, than all those endless groves of waving
palms.
"I cannot believe," resumed Browne, "that we are destined to waste our
days in this lonely spot, elysium as it is, of external beauty. We have
faculties and desires, which can find no scope here, and which are
perishing for lack of exercise. Still it is possible. But it is a
dreary, dreary thought! I can now feel the pathos of the words of the
ancient mariner on coming in sight of his native land--
"`Oh dream of joy! is this indeed
The light-house top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?--
Is this mine own countree?
"`We drifted o'er the harbour bar
And I with sobs did pray--
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep away!'"
Browne recited the lines with a power and feeling, that affected even
the matter-of-fact Morton; Max hastened to show that he was above being
so easily moved.
"All this comes," cried he, "of lying here under the trees in the
moonlight. Moonlight certainly has a tendency to make people melancholy
and sentimental; it also makes them do foolish things. The most absurd
and unreasonable notions I ever entertained, came into my head by
moonlight, and wouldn't go away. Only twenty-five minutes ago, we were
quite a rational, practical set of persons, eating our supper, (a
well-cooked supper, too, though I say it myself), with a keen appetite,
like Christians. And now, we have fallen to sighing and quoting poetry,
and Browne waxes quite pathetic at the touching thought of getting a
glimpse once more, of the smoky chimneys of Glasgow! Finally, I have
nearly caught the infection myself, and unless I escape out of the
moonlight presently, I dare say I also shall become quite
lack-a-daisical, and commence a poetical apostrophe to my native village
of Hardscrabble--or rather to plump little Susan Somers, my first love,
at the `madam's' school, who affected my weak mind and susceptible heart
to that extent, that in her bewildering presence my tongue clave to the
roof of my mouth, while I grew red in the face like a perplexed turkey
gobbler. But what _can_ have become of Arthur and the rest? Unless
something had happened to them, they must have returned before now."
A little before midnight we retired to the cabin to sleep, having first
agreed, that in the morning three of us should proceed up the stream
again, to make a thorough search for our companions, the fourth
remaining behind until near noon, when, if the absentees had not yet
returned, he should set out to join the others at the islet below the
falls, which we fixed upon as the rendezvous.
In the morning, lots were drawn to determine which of us should remain
at the cabin, and that duty fell to Morton. The rest of us, having
armed ourselves, and prepared a supply of taro and bread-fruit,
sufficient, as we supposed, for several days, set out, soon after
sunrise. Our progress was much more rapid than it had been when we
first went over the ground, as we now had a definite object in view, and
pressed steadily forward, without allowing any thing to interrupt or
delay us. In an hour and a half after starting, we came in sight of the
islet. Opposite it was the stake which Browne had planted in the sand,
just as we had left it. We pushed on up the stream to the cascade, and
crossing to the right bank, we began to skirt the base of the rocky wall
on that side, looking carefully around for some traces of our
companions.
We had proceeded in this way, about one hundred yards from the brook,
when I picked up one of Johnny's arrows in a tuft of fern. This was
conclusive evidence that we were upon the right track. A little farther
on, was a piece of marshy ground, and here we made a startling
discovery. In the soft soil, several foot-prints could be plainly
distinguished. Some were coarse, shapeless impressions, precisely such
as would be made by the rude moccasins worn by Arthur and Johnny.
Others were the prints of naked feet, and some of these were of far too
large a size to be made by either of the three. This discovery affected
us for the moment like an electric shock, and we stood looking at one
another without speaking, and scarcely breathing, while the very beating
of our hearts might be heard.
Browne was the first to recover himself, when he commenced a close
examination of all the tracks. The piece of ground upon which they
could be traced, extended some thirty yards, and after a careful
scrutiny of the whole of it, we became convinced that at least four
persons, besides our three companions, had recently passed over it. All
the tracks were not in the same direction, and from finding those of
precisely the same size lying in opposite directions, we inferred that
some of these persons, at least, had passed and repassed the spot.
The most distressing surmises as to the cause of the disappearance of
our companions, now began to suggest themselves. We were so astounded
by this decisive evidence of the presence of strangers upon the island,
that we scarcely knew what to do next, but at last concluded to return
to the islet and await Morton's arrival, being anxious to avoid the risk
of any further division of our numbers. We accordingly retraced our way
thither: supposing that Morton would have set out before we could reach
the cabin, and that we might pass each other on the way without knowing
it, if we should proceed down the stream to meet him, we remained
quietly at the islet, keeping a vigilant and somewhat nervous look-out
on every side.
He arrived about noon, having started rather sooner than had been agreed
upon. On being informed of the tracks which had been discovered, he
said that we ought at once to trace them as far as we were able. "We
must not rest," said he, "until we know something more of this, even if
we have to traverse every inch of ground on the island."
Browne was inclined to infer from the foot-prints, that the interior,
and the eastern part of the island, of which we as yet knew nothing,
were inhabited, and that our companions had fallen into the hands of the
natives.
"Let us, in the first place, find, if possible, where they are. We can
then judge what is to be done, if indeed we can do any thing," said
Morton, "and now for the place where the tracks you speak of are to be
seen."
Grasping our weapons, which were no longer to be regarded as a useless
incumbrance, we once more proceeded up the brook, and soon reached the
piece of low ground before mentioned. We again narrowly inspected the
tracks: Morton measured them with a twig, and concluded, as we had
previously done, that these were the foot-prints of at least seven
persons--there being that number of clearly different sizes. Three of
these were without doubt the tracks of Arthur, Johnny, and Eiulo. The
impressions made by the moccasins of the two former led only in one
direction, (_from_ the stream), while those of the naked feet, (or of
some of them), were in two opposite directions. Following these tracks
eastward along the rocky ridge, we soon came to firm dry ground, where
footsteps could no longer be traced. But by a minute scrutiny, we were
still able to detect slight but decisive indications of the course of
the party whose trail we were endeavouring to follow.
In one place, a bunch of spreading ferns had been trodden down, and the
long graceful fronds bruised and broken: in another, a cluster of
crushed wild-flowers betrayed a recent footstep. A little further on,
we came to a wide, meadow-like expanse, where the grass and weeds grew
rank and tall, and through this the path of a considerable party could
be readily traced. Gradually becoming accustomed to this species of
minute investigation, as we continued carefully to practise it, we soon
grew so expert and skilful, that things very slight in themselves, and
which would ordinarily have altogether escaped notice, sufficed to guide
and direct us.
The path trodden through the meadow, led to the foot of an ascent, up
which we followed the trail slowly and with difficulty, the soil being
hard, and the vegetation scanty. On gaining the top, we found that we
had reached the eastern, or south-eastern extremity of the island, and
the sea spread before us, almost at our feet. The trail led directly
towards the edge of a steep bank, just above the shore, near which we
lost it altogether. Morton leaped down the bank some ten or twelve
feet, while the rest of us were looking round for easier and more
gradual means of descent. Finding a stunted tree springing from the
lower ground, close against the bluff, I leaped among its spreading
branches, and climbed down its trunk to the shore, where I found Morton
searching for some traces of the party which we had tracked almost to
the edge of the height.
In a moment we were joined by Max and Browne, who had clambered down the
face of the bank by the assistance of the shrubs and bushes growing upon
it.
"It is useless," said Browne, "to look here for the trail we have lost.
If they descended to the shore, it must have been in some place where
Johnny and Eiulo could have got down."
"The track seemed to lead directly to the sea," said Morton, "and you
must consider that a party of savages would not find much of an obstacle
in such a bank as this, and would scarcely be as careful as ourselves of
the safety of Johnny and Eiulo. In fact, I suppose they would hand or
drop them down such a height, without scruple or ceremony. What I now
begin to fear is, that our unfortunate companions have fallen into the
hands of a party of savages, landing here for some transient purpose,
and have been carried off by them."
At this moment an exclamation from Max, who had walked a little way
along the beach, announced some discovery, and turning round we saw him
beckoning to us.
"What is that?" said he, when we had joined him, stooping down, and
pointing towards a clump of stunted trees, growing in an angle or
indentation, where the bluff fell back for a short distance from the
shore, "is it not a canoe drawn up under the trees?"
It was not easy to distinguish the object clearly, on account of the
thickness of the foliage. After waiting a moment, and looking carefully
about, being satisfied that there was no one in the vicinity, we
approached the spot. Max was not mistaken; a large canoe, capable of
holding fifteen or twenty persons, was lying among the bushes, where it
had evidently been placed for concealment. In the bottom were a number
of carved paddles, a mast wound about with a mat-sail, several
calabashes containing water, and some cocoa-nuts.
Having hastily noted these particulars, we withdrew to a short distance,
behind a rock detached from the bank, and surrounded by a dense growth
of tangled shrubbery, to hold a consultation.
From the position in which we found the canoe, with no dwelling near
that we could see, and from the circumstance of its containing water and
provisions, we inferred that it did not belong to persons inhabiting the
island, or this portion of it at any rate. There was at least a
probability of its belonging to the party which we had tracked so nearly
to the spot, and that they were now somewhere in the neighbourhood.
"This canoe must be destroyed," said Morton, after a moment of silence,
"and we had better set about it at once."
This proposition seemed a bold and a somewhat strange one. Browne
demanded the object of such a proceeding.
"Unless we do this," answered Morton, "our companions, if they are still
alive, and in the power of the savages, may be carried away from the
island before our eyes, and separated from us for ever. As long as they
are here, within our reach, there is hope of our being able to rescue
them; if not by force, then by some device or stratagem. At the worst,
we only run some unnecessary risk, by what I propose. Could we ever
forgive ourselves if Arthur should be carried off through our having
omitted a precaution calculated to prevent it?"
Morton's decision and earnestness prevailed; while he undertook the work
of destroying the canoe, Max, Browne, and I, stationed ourselves at
different points around the spot, so as to give timely notice of the
approach of any person. He devoted himself to his task with such
vigour, that in a very few moments he had completely broken up the
bottom of the canoe, by repeated blows of a stone as heavy as he could
lift in both hands. Not content with this, he disengaged the outrigger,
and threw it, together with the mast and sail, into the sea.
CHAPTER THIRTY.
THE RENCONTRE.
THE TWO LEADERS--AN UNEXPECTED MEETING--THE COUNCIL OF WAR--AND WHAT
FOLLOWED.
"Now screw your courage to the sticking point."
"With many a stiff thwack, many a bang,
Hard crab-tree and old iron rang;
While none who saw them could divine
To which side conquest would incline."