he sat down and began making another out of some broad leaves which grew
close at hand. While thus employed, and thinking over what he should
do, he recollected that he had not prayed, nor thanked God for
preserving him; so, having put on his clothes, he knelt down in the thin
shadow of a tall palm, and prayed as he had never prayed before. After
doing this, he felt greatly supported; yet his condition was indeed a
forlorn one. He rose from his knees, and looked around. He felt
thirsty, but not very hungry--sufficiently so, however, to remind him
that he must look out for food. He was not aware of the difficulties of
procuring it, so that his mind was not troubled on that score. His
first idea was to survey the island, so as to learn to a certainty
whether any of his shipmates might have been cast on it. He found a
piece of timber on the sand, which served him for a walking-stick, and,
supported by it, he set off to walk round the island.
He first climbed up to the top of a rock near him, from which, between
the trees, he could look across the island, and he thought that it could
be little more than half a mile wide. How long it was he could not so
well judge. He walked on and on, looking about for signs of
fresh-water, for he knew that he must not drink that of the sea. He
could find none. He became more and more thirsty; his tongue was
parched, and his throat dry: still he would not give up. He dragged his
weary feet along, helped by his stick. Some rocky mounds, scarcely to
be called hills, appeared in the distance, and he hoped that water might
be found near them. This gave him fresh strength to drag himself along.
The mounds were not so high even as he had fancied, and were much
nearer. Again he was disappointed. He paced round and round them; all
was stony and dry.
Ben was very nearly giving way to despair, when he espied, scarcely
fifty yards off, a group of tall trees with large round fruit hanging
from them. At once he knew them to be cocoa-nuts, and he went on, eager
to quench his thirst with the pure milk they contained. Yet, weak as he
was, how could he climb up to the top of those trees? He had often seen
the natives do it with a band round their waists. If he were strong, he
might do it in the same way, could he but find the band; but, in his
weak state, that was impossible. Again he was doomed to disappointment,
he feared, and was about to pursue his exploring tour, when he saw, not
far off, a nut on the ground. He ran eagerly and picked it up. It had
been blown off during the recent gale. After stripping off the husk, he
soon broke in the end; and, though he spilt a little, there was
sufficient milk in it to quench his now burning thirst. He then more
slowly ate pieces of the fruit, which he cut out with his knife. Here
was one means of supporting life, and Ben's elastic spirits again rose.
At his age the thoughts of the future did not press heavily on him. He
had, too, `a conscience void of offence towards God': not that he did
not feel and know himself to be a sinner; but he felt himself to be a
pardoned one, as a sincere believer in Christ. That was the secret of
his light-heartedness. Still he had a longing for pure water. He knew,
too, that he could the better cook any fish he might obtain if he could
find it. How was he to light a fire, however? Just before the gale
came on, the cook had sent him below to get his tin-box of matches, and
after the cook had taken one out, Ben had put it into his pocket. There
it was, and, the lid fitting tightly down, the matches were uninjured.
"I must cherish them carefully, however," he thought; "when they are
gone, I shall be unable to light a fire." He looked about and found
several other cocoa-nuts, which he collected, and piled up where he
could again find them.
Much refreshed, Ben continued his walk. At last he saw the end of the
island. For a quarter of a mile or more it was low and barren, hard
rock washed apparently by the sea; so he turned round and went back by
the other shore. The island was, altogether, nearly two miles long; but
there were not many cocoa-nut trees on it,--nor much soil indeed, which
was the reason probably that it was not inhabited. He might now
exclaim, though sadly, "I am monarch of all I survey;" but he would
rather have been the meanest subject of a small kingdom, with civilised
companions, than a king and all alone on that nearly barren reef. Still
he had no fear of starving; shell-fish he saw on the rocks in abundance.
During the calm, too, some of the natives had been fishing over the
side of the vessel, and he also had got some hooks and a long line.
These he had put into his pockets. He might, he hoped, find some roots,
and thus be able to vary his diet. As the sun rose, the horizon became
very clear, and he thought that he could distinguish land in one
direction; it was at all events a long way off, and it was so faint that
it might be only a cloud just rising above the horizon. He should be
able to judge better after watching it for a day or two.
As Ben walked on, his eye was continually roving about for signs of
water. How gladly would he have welcomed the sight of even a little
mossy pool, or some moisture in the crevice of a rock! He did not
despair. He had hitherto only explored the shore; water might rise in
the interior, and be lost in the sand before it reached the beach. "One
thing I ought to have before night," he said,--for he had got into the
way of talking aloud,--"that is, shelter. I must build myself a hut;"
and so he set to work. There were canes, and bushes, and broad leaves
of the pandanus and other trees in abundance. He did not require a very
spacious mansion; still he wanted one high enough to sit in. He worked
on till he was tired and hungry. He had left his cocoa-nuts some way
off, and had to go for them. He brought as many as he could carry back
to his hut. Knocking a hole in the end of one of them, and carefully
scraping out the fruit after he had drunk the milk, he waded into the
water, and cut some mussels off the rocks. His cocoa-nut he filled with
salt-water. Coming back, he lighted a fire in a hole a little way from
his hut. Would he put his cocoa-nut on it? No; he was too wise for
that; but he made some stones red-hot, and kept tumbling them into the
water till the mussels were sufficiently cooked. Others he toasted
before the fire, but he liked the boiled ones best. He thus made a
tolerably substantial meal. To keep in his fire, he built up a wall of
stones round it, and put on a quantity of green sticks, which would burn
slowly, hoping in that way to save the expenditure of another match.
"I will finish my hut, and then I will go and have another hunt for
water," he said to himself, as he began working again. He had placed
his hut against a tree, with the opening turned away from the wind.
There were plenty of dry leaves about, which he collected for his bed.
He did not require furniture; that he would make by and by. While
hunting in his pockets for the matches, he found a number of thin flat
seeds. He recollected having saved them from a fruit of the gourd
species, which had been used on board the schooner. He carefully dried
them and put them by, remembering that such things grow very rapidly.
"There will be no harm sowing them; if I do not use them, others will.
I am thankful I found them," he thought. Once more he set out to look
for water. The exertion he had gone through, and the heat, made the
milk of the cocoa-nut insufficient for quenching his thirst. The ground
was rough; but he eagerly clambered over it, backwards and forwards,
hoping thus to find a spring if one existed. The sun was sinking low,
when he thought that the trees and shrubs, in a hollow he saw some way
before him, looked greener and more luxuriant than those in other
places. "Water makes leaves and grass green," he said to himself; "I
hope so, for I don't think that I could live many more hours without
water, not through another day in this hot sun. Oh dear! oh dear! how
very, very thirsty I am! What would I give if there should be water
there, even though I should only get one good drink of it! Ay, but I
shall want it another day--for many days, or months, perhaps, as long as
I live on this island. I don't think that God will have put only a
little there. If there is any, there will be a good supply for me, more
than this cocoa-nut full, I am certain." He had brought a cocoa-nut
shell with him to fill with water, that he might take some back to his
hut.
Ben almost shouted for joy when he found a spring of pure water bubbling
up from under a big rock. It ran a little way between rocks, and then
lost itself in a sandy bed. He scooped a hole in the ground, into which
he put his cocoa-nut shell, which quickly filled with water. How sweet
and pure it tasted! He felt that he could never take enough. At last,
however, his thirst was quenched, so he filled his cocoa-nut shell, and
directed his steps to the sea-shore; but he had not gone far before he
was tempted to put the shell to his lips. He soon drained it, and then
he went back for more. His great fear was that he should not again find
the spring. He marked the spot with the greatest care, and noted each
tree and mound as he took his way towards the beach. Night was coming
on, as it does in those latitudes, very rapidly; and Ben had to hurry on
for fear of not finding his hut, and at the same time to be very
cautious not to spill the water out of his cocoa-nut. Oh that people
would be as eager for the Water of Life, as little Ben was for the
spring in that desert island, and would be tempted to return to it again
and again to drink afresh of its pure source! Ben was thankful when he
saw the glow from his fire, which continued smouldering gently. Without
it he might have passed his hut. He could not manage by its light to
read more than a few verses from his Testament; but even those few gave
him comfort and hope. With a heart truly grateful for the mercies
bestowed on him, he knelt down and offered up his simple prayer to God.
The last thing he did was to make up his fire afresh, and then he crept
into his hut and in a few moments was fast asleep.
The sun had risen before Ben awoke. He felt that he had a great deal to
do. He could not tell how long he might have to remain on the island.
It might be not only for months, but for years. Much depended on his
own sense and energy whether he would retain his health, or indeed life
itself. He began the day with prayer and reading the Testament. He
knew that that was the best way at all events to save himself from
turning into a savage. He then made his breakfast off cocoa-nut and
shell-fish. "I must catch some fish, however," he said to himself, as
he finished the last clam; "this food will not do to live on always. I
may find some roots and berries, and perhaps turtles' eggs. I heard
some wild-fowl cry last evening; I may find their eggs too, and trap
them or some other birds, or get a turtle itself. The first thing I'll
now do is to carry my hut nearer to the water, instead of having to
bring the water all this way to the hut. That won't take long. I can
carry the whole of it in two journeys, and quickly put it up. I must
take the fire after it. That will keep in for many hours, I see, with
the help of this rotten wood. If I go working on in these clothes, I
shall soon wear them out. I must see what I can do to make others out
of the bark of the paper-mulberry, as the natives do; I thought I saw
some of those trees yesterday. I daresay I shall not succeed at first,
but there is nothing like trying. There is a piece of open ground near
the spring which will just do for the gourd-seeds. I'll sow them
therein forthwith. The fruit is very wholesome, I know; and the dried
gourds will furnish me with basins and pots and pans in abundance."
Ben put all his plans into execution in a methodical, regular way. He
became, indeed, perfectly happy, and almost contented with his lot,
except when he thought of his mother and Ned--poor Ned, still
undiscovered, living among savages, or on a desert island, like himself.
His own fate made him hope more than ever that Ned had escaped.
Now and then the course of his plans was interrupted by something else
which occurred to him to do. One idea was to erect a beacon at each end
of the island, to attract the attention of those on board any passing
vessel. He had nothing of which to make a flag, so a flagstaff would
have been of no use. It then struck him that a cross would be more
remarkable than anything else, and he devoted a part of each day to the
work. It was a very heavy task. He chose a tree towards the end of the
island, where he proposed erecting the first cross. He had only a stout
pocket-knife, but he could employ fire, and that only required constant
watching. A large sharp stone helped him. When he had thus felled the
tree, he had to cut off the branches, and to drag it to the end of the
island. With great labour he partly burned, and partly cut, a deep
notch, into which he fixed the cross-beam, securing it with wedges. He
had observed a cleft in the rock: in this he placed the butt-end, and
gradually raised it with far more ease than he could otherwise have
done. Some large stones placed round it kept it secure. The other
cross was erected much in the same manner.
His fishing was very successful, and he was soon able to catch an ample
supply for his daily food. He found, too, some roots which were
perfectly wholesome. When cultivated by the natives, they formed one of
their chief articles of food. He was not disappointed in finding, after
a time, some turtles' and sea-fowls' eggs; indeed, he had an abundance
of nutritious food, gained, however, by his own exertions and
perseverance. It might have been possible for a person to have died of
starvation on the island, simply on account of not looking for the means
of subsistence which it afforded. Ben not only collected for present
use, but preserved what he could for the future, knowing that at certain
seasons the turtle and wild-fowl would cease to lay eggs, that the fish
might leave the coast, or that stormy weather might prevent his catching
them; that the cocoa-nuts would dry up, as might the roots, and that the
wild-fowl might become more wary. He was thus never idle, from morning
till night; and though, of course, he thought very often of home and
Ned, and of how he should get away, yet he never was unhappy or out of
spirits. He was as fond as ever of saying, "Do right, whatever comes of
it, and trust in God."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
ESCAPE: AND THE END OF BEN'S HISTORY.
Ben had recollected the day of the week on which, he was cast on the
island. By means of a stick which he notched regularly, a plan he had
often heard of being adopted under similar circumstances, he kept an
exact note of the days as they passed. Sunday he made a day of rest.
It was not, however, a day of weariness. He read much more than usual
of his Testament, and, recollecting the way the natives had repeated
portions of it, he set to work to commit some of its chapters to memory.
This he found a delightful occupation. When doing so, he spent many
hours walking up and down on the smooth sea sand, with shoeless feet,
looking out every now and then on the blue ocean, and thinking what a
beautiful world it is we inhabit, and how grievous that man should mar
it by his evil temper and wicked deeds. Then he would occasionally sing
all the hymns he knew at the top of his voice, from very joyfulness of
heart. In the week-days, when at work, he would repeat over what he had
learned on the Sundays. Thus five months, by his calculation, passed
away.
One Monday forenoon, as he was going out to the end of a reef to fish,
on looking in the direction where he had frequently seen what he
supposed to be land, he saw an object moving over the water. It was not
white, like the sail of a vessel. It must, then, be the mat-sail of a
large double canoe. Thinking no more of his fishing, he ran up to the
highest rocky hill in the neighbourhood to watch its progress. It was
drawing nearer the island, and yet apparently not steering directly for
it, rather, as it were, to pass at some distance.
"I wonder what sort of people are on board," he thought. "Perhaps
savages--cannibals. Then it will be much better if they do not come
here. If they are Christian natives, then I shall be very glad to go
with them, as they of course are on their way to some civilised island
where ships are likely to call."
The wind was light, the canoe moved slowly, and Ben's anxiety increased.
At last it seemed clear that the canoe would not come nearer to the
island. He heaved a deep sigh, and sat silent and sad for some time.
Then he recollected that he was going to fish. He got up, and again
worked his way towards the end of the reef. He cast in his line, and
had hooked a fish, when, just as he landed it, on looking up for an
instant, he saw the canoe gliding towards the island. It was steering
for the point on which stood the cross, there could be no doubt about
that. He watched it eagerly, anxious to ascertain who was on board. If
they were savages, should he hide himself, and trust to their going away
again? "Yet even if they are savages, they will not hurt me," he said
to himself. "They will see at once that I cannot do them any harm. I
will run and meet them, and welcome them. That will be the best way, I
am sure. I will take a branch in my hand, and wave it as the natives
do, to show that I wish to be friendly with them."
Saying this, Ben drew up the fish he had hooked,--a fine large one,--
retreated along the reef over the rocks, cut a branch, and ran along the
beach as fast as his legs could carry him towards Cross Point. He got
there before the canoe, for the wind was light. He could see a number
of people on it as it drew nearer. Were they savages? They were all
clothed. Yes, and some of them were dressed as English sailors. There
was a glitter of gold-lace on the coat of one of them. In the bow stood
a young sailor lad. Gradually the faces began to grow distinct. How
his heart leaped with joy! There were Tom Martin and Mr Manners, and
several of the prize crew he had long thought in their ocean graves, and
there were also a good number of the natives, busy in lowering the huge
mat-sail of the canoe. They were the very men who had been on board the
schooner.
Ben was at first almost beside himself with delight. He waved his hands
and shouted wildly; then he ran down and showed them the best place for
bringing the canoe to shore. The natives cried out to him, but neither
Tom Martin nor any of the English seamen seemed to know him. "I wonder
what that little savage wants," he heard Tom say to one of the men. "He
looks to me as if he was out of his senses."
"No, I am not, Tom Martin, I can assure you," cried Ben, running up to
him and putting out his hand; "only very, very glad to see you again,
and to find that you are all alive."
"Well, indeed, I am also glad to find you were not drowned, Ben,"
answered Tom, wringing his shipmate's hand till it seemed as if he would
wring it off. "I felt certain that you were drowned, and was very sorry
for you, that I was!"
"He speaks truth, Ben," observed Jem Stokes, a seaman who had always
stood Tom's friend. "The lad took so ill when he thought that you were
lost, that we thought he would have slipped his cable altogether; but
Mr Manners spoke to him, as he did to all of us, and told him that if
you had left this world you had gone to a better."
Jem's remarks were cut short by Mr Manners, who had now come on shore.
Ben was not aware, till he observed the surprised look with which his
officer regarded him, of the odd figure he cut. He then recollected
that he wore a suit of his own home-made clothes: a hat of leaves, in
shape between an extinguisher and an umbrella; a cape of mulberry-tree
cloth, and a kilt of the same, reaching down to his knees. With shoes
he had learned to dispense, that he might have a good pair to go away
in. He had worn them, however, on Sunday mornings, when he had put them
on, with the rest of his best suit. Ben explained to Mr Manners why he
was dressed in that curious fashion, and the young officer highly
approved of his reasons, and complimented him on his ingenuity in their
manufacture.
The whole party then collected round him while he gave a brief account
of the way he had been preserved, and how he had managed to subsist
during his sojourn on the island. He, in return, was informed how his
friends had escaped. The schooner, from having no cargo in her, did not
sink as soon as was expected, but drove on to another reef, where she
stuck fast. The gale falling soon after, those on board had time to
construct a raft, on which, with the aid of one of the boats, they
reached an island which they had seen five or six miles off. They were
able to save a small quantity of provisions; but the larger portion,
being under water, could not be got at. The island was of considerable
size, and, thanks to the knowledge possessed by the natives, they had
not experienced much difficulty in procuring food. The schooner soon
broke up, so that very little more was got out of her, and only a few
articles of value were washed ashore. Mr Manners at once proposed
building a vessel; but the carpenter's mate, who had come in the
schooner as carpenter, had been lost when the vessel went on the rocks,
and none of the other men knew anything of ship-building. The natives,
on hearing the wish of the English officer, offered to construct a large
double canoe, three or four professional canoe-builders being among
them. They were far more ingenious than the civilised Englishmen.
Their tools they made out of stones, and flints, and shells; the fibre
of trees served them instead of nails; their sails were made out of
dried grass. It was a work, however, of great labour; night and day
they toiled at it. At length, aided by the Englishmen, it was
completed. They had preserved and stored all the food they could
collect and spare for their voyage; but their great difficulty was to
carry enough water. The water on the island was bad, and they had not
sufficient receptacles for it. Still, they hoped to reach some island
where they might replenish their stock; but that was very uncertain.
"Indeed, the possibility--or, I may say, the probability--of our running
short of water is the greatest cause of anxiety I have for our dangerous
voyage. If that was over, I should have fewer cares on my mind,"
observed Mr Manners.
"Then, sir, I think that I can certainly relieve you of that care,"
answered Ben. "There is a spring of excellent water in the middle of
the island, and near it I planted, on the second day of my arrival, some
gourd-seeds. The plants grew up very fast, and the fruit has now become
of great size, and is perfectly ripe. Each of them would, I should
think, when dried, hold a large quantity of water; and I am sure that
the pulp is very good and wholesome, for I have felt much better since I
lived on it. Besides, I have already dried a number of the outsides, so
that we may judge how they hold water."
"That is indeed providential, Ben," observed Mr Manners. "God, I
believe, never allows anything to be done without an object; and it
seems very clear that you were thrown on this island, not only that your
own life might be saved, but that you might be the means of preserving
all our lives. Had it not been for you, we should not have known that
there exists water on the island; and we certainly should not have had
the means of carrying it away. Let us at once examine the gourds, that
we may see what can be done."
Mr Manners now called Marco, and begged him to set off at once with
Ben, and examine the gourds, with a few of the other natives, while the
rest dispersed on the island to collect roots, cocoa-nuts, and, indeed,
any other food that they could find.
Ben could not help feeling proud at the commendation which Mr Manners
bestowed on his hut and its internal arrangements; still more so on his
plantation of gourds. The little seeds which he had brought to shore in
his jacket-pocket had now become large plants, producing gourds twice
the size of a man's head. As he had wisely planted them at a distance
from each other, they had all grown to their full size. Marco selected
thirty, at least, each of which would hold several quarts of water;
while their pulp was a welcome addition to the food of those who had
been for so long living on the produce of the sea, and roots, and
cocoa-nuts.
Three days were spent in drying the gourds and in filling them, and in
replenishing the other receptacles on board the canoe with the pure
water from Ben's fountain. One or two defects in the canoe were also
made good, and a considerable addition to their supply of provisions was
taken on board.