I can hardly describe to the reader the effect which these conversations
with Jackson had upon me at first. If a prisoner were removed from a
dark cell, and all at once introduced into a garden full of fruit and
flowers, which he never before had an idea were in existence, he could
not have been more filled with wonder, surprise, and pleasure. All was
novelty and excitement, but at the same time, to a great degree, above
my comprehension. I had neither language nor ideas to meet it, and yet
I did, to a certain degree, comprehend. I saw not clearly, but
sometimes as through a mist, at others through a dark fog, and I could
discern little. Every day, however, my increased knowledge of language
and terms gave me an increased knowledge of ideas. I gained more by
context than I did by any other means, and as I was by degrees
enlightened, so my thirst for information and knowledge became every day
more insatiable.
That much that I considered I understood was erroneous, is certain, for
mine was a knowledge, as yet, of theory only. I could imagine to
myself, as far as the explanation I received, what such an object might
be, and, having made up my ideas on the matter, I was content; further
knowledge would, however, incline me to think, and occasionally to
decide, that the idea I had formed was incorrect, and I would alter it.
Thus did I flounder about in a sea of uncertainty, but still of exciting
interest.
If any one who has been educated, and has used his eyes in a civilised
country, reads an account of people and things hitherto unknown to him,
he can, from the description and from his own general knowledge, form a
very correct idea of what the country contains. But then he has used
his eyes--he has seen those objects between which the parallel or the
difference has been pointed out. Now I had not that advantage. I had
seen nothing but the sea, rocks, and sea-birds, and had but one
companion. Here was my great difficulty, which, I may say, was never
surmounted, until I had visited and mixed with civilisation and men.
The difficulty, however, only increased my ardour. I was naturally of
an ingenious mind, I had a remarkable memory, and every increase of
knowledge was to me a source of delight. In fact, I had now something
to live for--before I had not; and I verily believe, that if Jackson had
been by any chance removed from me at this particular time, I should
soon have become a lunatic, from the sudden drying up of the well which
supplied my inordinate thirst for knowledge.
Some days passed before I asked Jackson to continue his narrative,
during which we lived in great harmony. Whether it was that he was
deceiving me, and commanding his temper till he had an opportunity of
revenge, or whether it was that his forlorn and helpless condition had
softened him down, I could not say; but he appeared gradually to be
forming an attachment to me; I was, however, on my guard at all times.
His wounded wrist had now healed up, but his hand was quite useless, as
all the tendons had been severed. I had therefore less to fear from him
than before. At my request that he would continue his history, Jackson
related as follows:--
"After sailing in vessel after vessel, and generally dismissed after the
voyage for my failing of intemperance, I embarked on board a ship bound
to Chili, and after having been on the coast for nearly a year, we were
about to proceed home with a cargo, when we anchored at Valdivia,
previous to our homeward voyage, as we had some few articles to ship at
that port. We were again ready for sea, when we heard, from the
captain, that he had agreed to take two passengers, a gentleman and his
wife, who wished to proceed to England. The cabin was cleared out, and
every preparation made to receive them on board, and in the evening the
boat was sent on shore for the luggage. I went in the boat, as I
thought it likely that the gentleman would give the boat's crew
something to drink; nor was I wrong--he gave us four dollars, which we
spent immediately in one of the ventas, and were all more or less
intoxicated. It had been arranged that the luggage should first be
carried on board, and after that, we were to return for the passengers,
as we were to sail early in the morning. We pulled off with the
luggage, but on our arrival on board, I was so drunk, that the captain
would not allow me to return in the boat, and I knew nothing of what had
passed until I was roused up the next morning to assist in getting the
ship under weigh. We had been under weigh two or three hours, and were
clearing the land fast, when the gentleman passenger came on deck; I was
then coiling down a rope on the quarter-deck, and as he passed by me, I
looked at him, and I recognised him immediately as your father. Years
had passed--from a stripling he had grown a man; but his face was not to
be mistaken. There he was, apparently a gentleman of property and
consideration; and I, what was I? A drunken sailor. All I hoped was,
that he would not recognise me. Shortly afterwards he went down again,
and returned escorting his wife on deck. Again I took a furtive curious
glance, and perceived at once that she was that Miss Evelyn, whom I had
once so loved, and by my folly had lost. This was madness. As they
stood on the deck, enjoying the cool sea breeze, for the weather was
delightfully fine, the captain came up and joined them. I was so
confused at my discovery, that I knew not what I was about, and I
presume was doing something very awkwardly; for the captain said to
me--`Jackson, what are you about, you drunken hound? I suppose you are
not sober yet.' At the mention of my name, your father and mother
looked at me, and as I lifted up my head to reply to the captain, they
eyed me earnestly, and then spoke to each other in a low tone; after
which they interrogated the captain. I could not hear what they said,
but I was certain they were talking about me, and that they had
suspected, if they had not recognised me. I was ready to sink to the
deck, and, at the same time, I felt a hatred of your father enter my
heart, of which, during his life, I never could divest myself. It was
as I supposed; your father had recognised me, and the following morning
he came up to me as I was leaning over the gunwale amid ships, and
addressed me,--`Jackson,' said he, `I am sorry to find you in this
situation. You must have been very unfortunate to have become so
reduced. If you will confide your history to me, perhaps I may, when we
arrive in England, be able to assist you, and it really will give me
great pleasure.' I cannot say that I replied very cordially. `Mr
Henniker,' said I, `you have been fortunate, by all appearances, and can
therefore afford compassion to those who have not been so; but, sir, in
our positions, I feel as if pity was in reality a sort of triumph, and
an offer of assistance an insult. I am content with my present
position, and will at all events not change it by your interference. I
earn my bread honestly. You can do no more. Times may change yet.
It's a long road that has no turning to it. I wish you a good morning.'
So saying, I turned from him, and walked away forward, with my heart
full of bitterness and anger. From that hour he never spoke to me or
noticed me again; but the captain was more severe upon me, and I
ascribed his severity most unjustly to your father. We were about to go
round Cape Horn, when the gale from the S.E. came on, which ended in the
loss of the vessel. For several days we strove up against it, but at
last the vessel, which was old, leaked so much from straining, that we
were obliged to bear up and run before it, which we did for several
days, the wind and sea continuing without intermission. At last we
found ourselves among these islands, and were compelled occasionally to
haul to the wind to clear them. This made her leak more and more, until
at last she became water logged, and we were forced to abandon her in
haste, during the night, having no time to take anything with us; we
left three men on board, who were down below. By the mercy of Heaven we
ran the boat into the opening below, which was the only spot where we
could have landed. I think I had better stop now, as I have a good deal
to tell you yet."
"Do then," replied I; "and now I think of it, I will bring up the chest
and all the things which were in it, and you shall tell me what they
are."
I went down and returned with the clothes and linen. There were eight
pair of trousers, nine shirts, besides the one I had torn up to bandage
his wounds with, two pair of blue trousers, and two jackets, four white
duck frocks, some shoes, and stockings. Jackson felt them one by one
with his hands, and told me what they were, and how worn.
"Why don't you wear some of them?" inquired I.
"If you will give me leave, I will," replied he. "Let me have a duck
frock and a pair of trousers."
I handed the articles to him, and then went back for the rest, which I
had left on the rocks.
When I returned, with my arms full, I found that he had put them on, and
his other clothes were beside him. "I feel more like a Christian now,"
said he.
"A Christian," said I, "what is that?"
"I will tell you by-and-bye. It is what I have not been for a long,
long while," replied he. "Now, what have you brought this time?"
"Here," said I, "what is this?"
"This is a roll of duck, to make into frocks and trousers," replied he.
"That is bees'-wax." He then explained to me all the tools,
sailing-needles, fish-hooks, and fishing-lines, some sheets of
writing-paper, and two pens, I had brought up with me. "All these are
very valuable," said he, after a pause, "and would have added much to
our comfort, if I had not been blind."
"There are more things yet," said I; "I will go and fetch them."
This time I replaced the remaining articles, and brought up the chest.
It was a heavy load to carry up the rocks, and I was out of breath when
I arrived and set it down on the cabin floor.
"Now I have the whole of them," said I. "Now, what is this?"
"That is a spy-glass--but, alas! I am blind--but I will show you how to
use it, at all events."
"Here are two books," said I.
"Give them to me," said he, "and let me feel them. This one is a Bible,
I am quite sure by its shape, and the other is, I think, a Prayer-book."
"What is a Bible, and what is a Prayer-book?" replied I.
"The Bible is the word of God, and the Prayer-book teaches us how to
pray to him."
"But who is God? I have often heard you say, `O God!' and `God damn'--
but who is he?"
"I will tell you to-night, before we go to sleep," replied Jackson,
gravely.
"Very well, I shall remind you. I have found a little box inside the
chest, and it is full of all manner of little things--strings and
sinews."
"Let me feel them."