SAGACIOUS AND MORAL REMARKS IN REGARD TO LIFE--A SAIL!--AN UNEXPECTED
SALUTE--THE END OF THE BLACK CAT--A TERRIBLE DIVE--AN INCAUTIOUS
PROCEEDING AND A FRIGHTFUL CATASTROPHE.
Life is a strange compound. Peterkin used to say of it that it beat a
druggist's shop all to sticks; for whereas the first is a compound of
good and bad, the other is a horrible compound of all that is utterly
detestable. And indeed the more I consider it, the more I am struck
with the strange mixture of good and evil that exists, not only in the
material earth, but in our own natures. In our own Coral Island we had
experienced every variety of good that a bountiful Creator could heap on
us. Yet on the night of the storm we had seen how almost, in our case--
and altogether, no doubt, in the case of others less fortunate--all this
good might be swept away for ever. We had seen the rich fruit-trees
waving in the soft air, the tender herbs shooting upwards under the
benign influence of the bright sun; and the next day we had seen these
good and beautiful trees and plants uprooted by the hurricane, crushed
and hurled to the ground in destructive devastation. We had lived for
many months in a clime, for the most part, so beautiful that we had
often wondered whether Adam and Eve had found Eden more sweet; and we
had seen the quiet solitudes of our paradise suddenly broken in upon by
ferocious savages, and the white sands stained with blood and strewed
with lifeless forms, yet among these cannibals we had seen many symptoms
of a kindly nature. I pondered these things much, and while I
considered them there recurred to my memory those words which I had read
in my Bible: "The works of God are wonderful, and His ways past finding
out."
After these poor savages had left us we used to hold long and frequent
conversations about them, and I noticed that Peterkin's manner was now
much altered. He did not, indeed, jest less heartily than before, but
he did so less frequently; and often there was a tone of deep
seriousness in his manner, if not in his words, which made him seem to
Jack and me as if he had grown two years older within a few days. But
indeed I was not surprised at this when I reflected on the awful
realities which we had witnessed so lately. We could by no means shake
off a tendency to gloom for several weeks afterwards; but as time wore
away, our usual good spirits returned somewhat, and we began to think of
the visit of the savages with feelings akin to those with which we
recall a terrible dream.
One day we were all enjoying ourselves in the Water Garden preparatory
to going on a fishing excursion, for Peterkin had kept us in such
constant supply of hogs that we had become quite tired of pork and
desired a change. Peterkin was sunning himself on the ledge of rock,
while we were creeping among the rocks below. Happening to look up, I
observed Peterkin cutting the most extraordinary capers and making
violent gesticulations for us to come up; so I gave Jack a push and rose
immediately.
"A sail! a sail--Ralph, look--Jack, away on the horizon there, just over
the entrance to the lagoon!" cried Peterkin as we scrambled up the
rocks.
"So it is--and a schooner, too!" said Jack as he proceeded hastily to
dress.
Our hearts were thrown into a terrible flutter by this discovery, for if
it should touch at our island, we had no doubt the captain would be
happy to give us a passage to some of the civilised islands, where we
could find a ship sailing for England or some other part of Europe.
Home, with all its associations, rushed in upon my heart like a flood;
and much though I loved the Coral Island and the bower which had now
been our home so long, I felt that I could have quitted all at that
moment without a sigh. With joyful anticipations we hastened to the
highest point of rock near our dwelling and awaited the arrival of the
vessel, for we now perceived that she was making straight for the island
under a steady breeze.
In less than an hour she was close to the reef, where she rounded-to and
backed her topsails in order to survey the coast. Seeing this, and
fearing that they might not perceive us, we all three waved pieces of
cocoa-nut cloth in the air, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing them
beginning to lower a boat and bustle about the decks as if they meant to
land. Suddenly a flag was run up to the peak, a little cloud of white
smoke rose from the schooner's side, and before we could guess their
intentions, a cannon-shot came crashing through the bushes, carried away
several cocoa-nut trees in its passage, and burst in atoms against the
cliff a few yards below the spot on which we stood.
With feelings of terror we now observed that the flag at the schooner's
peak was black, with a Death's-head and cross-bones upon it. As we
gazed at each other in blank amazement, the word "pirate" escaped our
lips simultaneously.
"What is to be done?" cried Peterkin as we observed a boat shoot from
the vessel's side and make for the entrance of the reef. "If they take
us off the island, it will either be to throw us overboard for sport or
to make pirates of us."
I did not reply, but looked at Jack, as being our only resource in this
emergency. He stood with folded arms, and his eyes fixed with a grave,
anxious expression on the ground. "There is but one hope," said he,
turning with a sad expression of countenance to Peterkin. "Perhaps,
after all, we may not have to resort to it. If these villains are
anxious to take us, they will soon overrun the whole island. But come,
follow me."
Stopping abruptly in his speech, Jack bounded into the woods, and led us
by a circuitous route to Spouting Cliff. Here he halted, and advancing
cautiously to the rocks, glanced over their edge. We were soon by his
side, and saw the boat, which was crowded with armed men, just touching
the shore. In an instant the crew landed, formed line, and rushed up to
our bower.
In a few seconds we saw them hurrying back to the boat, one of them
swinging the poor cat round his head by the tail. On reaching the
water's edge he tossed it far into the sea, and joined his companions,
who appeared to be holding a hasty council.
"You see what we may expect," said Jack bitterly. "The man who will
wantonly kill a poor brute for sport will think little of murdering a
fellow-creature. Now, boys, we have but one chance left--the Diamond
Cave."
"The Diamond Cave!" cried Peterkin. "Then my chance is a poor one, for
I could not dive into it if all the pirates on the Pacific were at my
heels."
"Nay, but," said I, "we will take you down, Peterkin, if you will only
trust us."
As I spoke, we observed the pirates scatter over the beach, and radiate,
as if from a centre, towards the woods and along shore.
"Now, Peterkin," said Jack in a solemn tone, "you must make up your mind
to do it, or we must make up our minds to die in your company."
"Oh Jack, my dear friend!" cried Peterkin, turning pale, "leave me; I
don't believe they'll think it worth while to kill me. Go, you and
Ralph, and dive into the cave."
"That will not I," answered Jack quietly, while he picked up a stout
cudgel from the ground.--"So now, Ralph, we must prepare to meet these
fellows. Their motto is `No quarter.' If we can manage to floor those
coming in this direction, we may escape into the woods for a while."
"There are five of them," said I; "we have no chance."
"Come, then!" cried Peterkin, starting up and grasping Jack convulsively
by the arm; "let us dive. I will go."
Those who are not naturally expert in the water know well the feelings
of horror that overwhelm them, when in it, at the bare idea of being
held down even for a few seconds--that spasmodic, involuntary recoil
from compulsory immersion which has no connection whatever with
cowardice; and they will understand the amount of resolution that it
required in Peterkin to allow himself to be dragged down to a depth of
ten feet, and then, through a narrow tunnel, into an almost pitch-dark
cavern. But there was no alternative. The pirates had already caught
sight of us, and were now within a short distance of the rocks.
Jack and I seized Peterkin by the arms.
"Now, keep quite still--no struggling," said Jack, "or we are lost!"
Peterkin made no reply; but the stern gravity of his marble features,
and the tension of his muscles, satisfied us that he had fully made up
his mind to go through with it. Just as the pirates gained the foot of
the rocks, which hid us for a moment from their view, we bent over the
sea and plunged down together, head foremost. Peterkin behaved like a
hero. He floated passively between us like a log of wood, and we passed
the tunnel and rose into the cave in a shorter space of time than I had
ever done it before.
Peterkin drew a long, deep breath on reaching the surface, and in a few
seconds we were all standing on the ledge of rock in safety. Jack now
searched for the tinder and torch which always lay in the cave. He soon
found them, and lighting the torch, revealed to Peterkin's wondering
gaze the marvels of the place. But we were too wet to waste much time
in looking about us. Our first care was to take off our clothes and
wring them as dry as we could. This done, we proceeded to examine into
the state of our larder, for, as Jack truly remarked, there was no
knowing how long the pirates might remain on the island.
"Perhaps," said Peterkin, "they may take it into their heads to stop
here altogether, and so we shall be buried alive in this place."
"Don't you think, Peterkin, that it's the nearest thing to being drowned
alive that you ever felt?" said Jack with a smile. "But I have no fear
of that. These villains never stay long on shore. The sea is their
home, so you may depend upon it that they won't stay more than a day or
two at the furthest."
We now began to make arrangements for spending the night in the cavern.
At various periods Jack and I had conveyed cocoa-nuts and other fruits,
besides rolls of cocoa-nut cloth, to this submarine cave, partly for
amusement, and partly from a feeling that we might possibly be driven
one day to take shelter here from the savages. Little did we imagine
that the first savages who would drive us into it would be white
savages--perhaps our own countrymen! We found the cocoa-nuts in good
condition, and the cooked yams; but the bread-fruits were spoiled. We
also found the cloth where we had left it, and on opening it out, there
proved to be sufficient to make a bed--which was important, as the rock
was damp. Having collected it all together, we spread out our bed,
placed our torch in the midst of us, and ate our supper. It was indeed
a strange chamber to feast in; and we could not help remarking on the
cold, ghastly appearance of the walls, and the black water at our side
with the thick darkness beyond, and the sullen sound of the drops that
fell at long intervals from the roof of the cavern into the still water,
and the strong contrast between all this and our bed and supper, which,
with our faces, were lit up with the deep-red flame of the torch.
We sat long over our meal, talking together in subdued voices, for we
did not like the dismal echoes that rang through the vault above when we
happened to raise them. At last the faint light that came through the
opening died away, warning us that it was night and time for rest. We
therefore put out our torch and lay down to sleep.
On awaking, it was some time ere we could collect our faculties so as to
remember where we were, and we were in much uncertainty as to whether it
was early or late. We saw by the faint light that it was day, but could
not guess at the hour; so Jack proposed that he should dive out and
reconnoitre.
"No, Jack," said I; "do you rest here. You've had enough to do during
the last few days. Rest yourself now, and take care of Peterkin, while
I go out to see what the pirates are about. I'll be very careful not to
expose myself, and I'll bring you word again in a short time."
"Very well, Ralph," answered Jack; "please yourself. But don't be long.
And if you'll take my advice, you'll go in your clothes; for I would
like to have some fresh cocoa-nuts, and climbing trees without clothes
is uncomfortable--to say the least of it."
"The pirates will be sure to keep a sharp lookout," said Peterkin; "so,
pray, be careful."
"No fear," said I. "Good-bye."
"Good-bye," answered my comrades.
And while the words were yet sounding in my ears, I plunged into the
water, and in a few seconds found myself in the open air. On rising, I
was careful to come up gently and to breathe softly, while I kept close
in beside the rocks; but as I observed no one near me, I crept slowly
out and ascended the cliff, a step at a time, till I obtained a full
view of the shore. No pirates were to be seen--even their boat was
gone; but as it was possible they might have hidden themselves, I did
not venture too boldly forward. Then it occurred to me to look out to
sea, when, to my surprise, I saw the pirate schooner sailing away almost
hull down on the horizon! On seeing this I uttered a shout of joy.
Then my first impulse was to dive back to tell my companions the good
news; but I checked myself, and ran to the top of the cliff in order to
make sure that the vessel I saw was indeed the pirate schooner. I
looked long and anxiously at her, and giving vent to a deep sigh of
relief, said aloud, "Yes, there she goes; the villains have been balked
of their prey this time at least!"
"Not so sure of that!" said a deep voice at my side, while at the same
moment a heavy hand grasped my shoulder and held it as if in a vice.