CHAPTER XLII.

"SAIL O! SAIL O!"

ALL through the remainder of that night I lay wide awake keeping watch,

my noble little dog lying near me with ears alert. Early in the morning

friends came weeping around us. Our enemies were loudly rejoicing. It

had been finally resolved to kill us at once, to plunder our house and

then to burn it. The noise of the shouting was distinctly heard as they

neared the Mission premises, and our weeping, friendly Natives looked

terror-struck, and seemed anxious to flee for the bush. But just when

the excitement rose to the highest pitch, we heard, or dreamed that we

heard, a cry higher still, "Sail O!"

We were by this time beginning to distrust almost our very senses; but

again and again that cry came rolling up from the shore, and was

repeated from crowd to crowd all along the beach, "Sail O! Sail O!"

The shouts of those approaching us gradually ceased, and the whole

multitude seemed to have melted away from our view. I feared some cruel

deception, and at first peered out very cautiously to spy the land. But

yonder in very truth a vessel came sailing into view. It was the _Blue

Bell_ Captain Hastings. I set fire to the reeds on the side of the hill

to attract his attention. I put a black shawl as a flag on one end of

the Mission House and a white sheet on the other.

This was one of the vessels that had been to Port Resolution, and had

sailed past to Aneityum some time ago. I afterwards saw the mate and

some of the men wearing my shirts, which they had bought from the

Tannese on their former visit. At the earnest request of Messrs. Geddie

and Copeland, Mr. Underwood, the owner, had sent Captain Hastings to

Tanna to rescue us if yet alive. For this purpose he had brought twenty

armed men from Aneityum, who came on shore in two boats in charge of the

mate, the notorious Ross Lewin. He returned to the ship with a boat-load

of Mr. Mathieson's things, leaving ten of the Natives to help us to pack

more and carry them down to the beach, especially what the Missionary

thought most valuable.

The two boats were now loaded and ready to start. It was about two

o'clock in the afternoon, when a strange and painful trial befell us.

Poor dear Mr. Mathieson, apparently unhinged, locked himself all alone

into what had been his study, telling Mrs. Mathieson and me to go, for

he had resolved to remain and die on Tanna. We tried to show him the

inconsistency of praying to God to protect us or grant us means of

escape, and then refuse to accept a rescue sent to us in our last

extremity. We argued that it was surely better to live and work for

Jesus than to die as a self-made martyr, who, in God's sight, was guilty

of self-murder. His wife wept aloud and pleaded with him, but all in

vain! He refused to leave or to unlock his door. I then said, "It is now

getting dark. Your wife must go with the vessel, but I will not leave

you alone. I shall send a note explaining why I am forced to remain; and

as it is certain that we shall be murdered whenever the vessel leaves, I

tell you God will charge you with the guilt of our murder." At this he

relented, unlocked the door, and accompanied us to the boats, in which

we all immediately left.

Meantime, having lost several hours, the vessel had drifted leeward;

darkness suddenly settled upon us, and when we were out at sea we lost

sight of her and she of us. After tumbling about for some hours in a

heavy sea, and unable to find her, those in charge of the boats came

near for consultation, and, if possible, to save the lives of all. We

advised that they should steer for Port Resolution by the flame of the

volcano--a never failing lighthouse, seen fifty miles away--and there

await the vessel. The boats were to keep within hearing of each other by

constant calling; but this was soon lost to the ear, though on arriving

in the bay we found they had got to anchor before us. There we sat in

the boats and waited for the coming day.

As the light appeared, we anchored as far out as possible, beyond the

reach of musket shots; and there without water or food we sat under a

tropical sun till midday came, and still there was no sign of the

vessel. The mate at last put all the passengers and the poorest seamen

into one boat and left her to swing at anchor, while, with a strong crew

in the other, he started off in search of the vessel.

In the afternoon, Nowar and Miaki came off in a canoe to visit us. Nowar

had on a shirt, but Miaki was naked and frowning. He urged me to go and

see the Mission House, but as we had seen a body of men near it I

refused to go. Miaki declared that everything remained as I had left it,

but we knew that he lied. Old Abraham and a party had slipped on shore

in a canoe, and had found the windows smashed and everything gone except

my books, which were scattered about and torn in pieces. They learned

that Miaki had sold everything that he could sell to the Traders. The

mate and men of the _Blue Bell_ had on my very clothes. They boasted

that they had bought them for a few figs of tobacco and for powder,

caps, and balls. But they would not return a single shirt to me, though

I was without a change. We had all been without food since the morning

before, so Nowar brought us off a cocoanut each, and two very small

roasted yams for the ladies. Those, however, only seemed to make our

thirst the more severe, and we spent a trying day in that boat under a

burning sun.

Nowar informed me that only a few nights before this, Miaki and his

followers went inland to a village where last year they had killed ten

men. Having secretly placed a savage at the door of every house, at a

given signal they yelled, and when the terrified inmates tried to

escape, they killed almost every man, woman, and child. Some fled into

the bush, others rushed to the shore. A number of men got into a canoe

to escape, but hearing women and children crying after them they

returned, and taking those they could with them, they killed the rest,

lest they should fall alive into Miaki's hands. These are surely "they

who through fear of death are all their lifetime subject to bondage."

The Chief and nearly his whole village were cut off in one night! The

dark places of the Earth are "full of the habitations of horrid

cruelty." To have actually lived amongst the Heathen and seen their life

gives a man a new appreciation of the power and blessings of the Gospel,

even where its influence is only very imperfectly allowed to guide and

restrain the passions of men. Oh, what it will be when all men in all

nations love and serve the glorious Redeemer!

The Story of John G. Paton; Or, Thirty Years Among South Sea Cannibals · 第 42 / 91 章