The missionary and his daughter were on the beach attended by a number
of natives, among whom was the chief, so lately a fierce heathen, now
deeply affected at the thought of parting from his friend. As the boat
drew near, they all knelt down and offered up prayers, reminding me
forcibly of the departure of Paul the apostle from Miletus. It was a
deeply interesting sight. In the centre was the venerable missionary
with his silvery hair, his daughter kneeling by his side, while around
were the king and other chiefs and people, with many women and children.
My men without my orders lay on their oars till the prayers had ceased.
We then pulled in, and my friends embarked, when the natives burst
forth into a hymn, and as we rowed away from the land, we continued to
hear it still growing fainter and fainter, till the sound was lost in
the increasing distance. We then set our sails and glided swiftly and
pleasantly over the sparkling waters. I felt very happy. I would not
think of the separation to take place, and determined to enjoy the
society of my friends to the utmost. This, perhaps, prevented me from
observing as carefully as I might have done the signs of a change in the
weather. I believe, however, that Mr Bent, who had more experience as
a seaman in this ocean than I possessed, had perceived but he said
nothing. The wind suddenly dropped, then it sprung up again, then once
more dropped, and the boat scarcely moved through the water. At last it
fell altogether, and the sun's rays struck down with intense violence.
My men, however, willingly took to the oars, and we proceeded slowly on
our course. Still the island was far away, and I lost all hopes of
reaching it before dark, though I could not persuade myself that there
was any danger to be apprehended. Mr Bent, however, more than once
cast a look round the horizon, anxious more on his daughter's account
than his own. We had lowered the sail, for it was useless keeping it
set. Suddenly Mr Bent exclaimed, "Here it comes, round with her head,
David." I looked up, and saw a foam-covered sea rolling towards us. I
placed the boat's head so as to receive it, while the men pulled on
steadily as before. The question was whether they would be able to
continue so doing. The gale was coming from the west, and should it
blow with the same fury for any length of time, we might be driven far
away to the east without falling in with any land where shelter could be
found. I was thankful that my friends were not on board a native canoe.
It would have fared much worse with them. We had the means of finding
our way, and might beat back when the weather moderated. Mary behaved
with beautiful composure when the sea came seething and hissing up
alongside us. "This is only one of the trials and dangers to which
missionaries are exposed," she observed. "We should bear it patiently
and trustfully."
"Trustfully!" How seldom employed, how still less frequently made a
practical use of. That one word described much of her character.
The gale soon reached its height; the sea, lashed into fury, seemed one
mass of foam, and broke over us so frequently that every instant I
expected the boat to be swamped. Two men baling could scarcely keep her
free. Our only chance was to run before it, for the strength of the
crew no longer availed to keep our small craft's head to wind. The
danger of getting her round was very great; should a sea strike her on
the beam, it would have rolled her over helplessly. I gave exact orders
what was to be done--one man to hoist the foresail, two to pull round
with the starboard oars, the rest to spring aft so as to throw the
greatest weight into the stern of the boat, thus allowing her head to
come round more rapidly. I waited till a heavy sea had rolled past, and
then before we had sunk to the hollow I gave the word. For the first
time Mr Bent and his daughter turned pale. The boat flew round, and
seemed to be climbing up the ascent towards the crest which had just
hissed by, and then on we darted with the small patch of sail we could
show to the gale.
On, on we went, the huge seas rolling up astern of us, and appearing as
if they would come down and overwhelm us. During all my nautical career
I had never been in an open boat exposed to such a gale, though
frequently in a big ship, and even then I have felt the helplessness,
the nothingness of man. Still more sensibly now was it brought before
me--"He commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the
waves thereof. They mount up to the heaven, they go down to the depths;
their soul is melted because of trouble. Then they cry unto the Lord in
their trouble, and He bringeth them out of their distresses." The
missionary was repeating those lines, which come so home to the
Christian sailor's heart; and at his exhortation, we offered up our
united supplications for protection in our sore distress. To the few
solemn words which he spoke, the seamen listened earnestly. They knew
that at any moment they might be summoned away. I felt an unusual
calmness. I may say that I had no fear: I knew the danger, and yet I
believed that we should be preserved.
On, on we drove, farther and farther to the east, our view now confined
to the sides of the two seas, in the dark trough between which we
floated, seemingly about to be swallowed up, and now lifted on the
summit of a foam-crested billow to the tumultuous mountain masses of
water which madly leaped and danced one beyond the other till lost in
the line where the murky sky sunk over the seething caldron. We had an
abundance of provisions on board, but for many hours anxiety prevented
any one of us from wishing to partake of them, even the rough seamen
seemed indifferent about the matter. At length, however, Mr Bent and I
agreed that Mary ought to take some food, which, after a blessing had
been asked for, she did, the rest of the party following her example.
We all felt wonderfully refreshed, and hope revived in the hearts of the
most desponding. Still we could scarcely dare to conjecture by what
means we should be saved. We could not conceal from ourselves that the
gale might continue to blow for many days, and that we might be driven
far away to the east, whence a long time would be occupied in returning,
or that we might be thrown on one of the numberless coral reefs of those
seas, or hurled against some rocky shore and be dashed to pieces, while
we knew that any moment some cross sea might strike us and send us to
the bottom. I have heard of people's hair turning grey in a single
night. The anxiety I began to feel the moment I allowed myself to dwell
on our too possible fate would quickly have turned my hair grey, and yet
directly I turned my gaze upward, and put my trust in Him who said to
the waves, "Peace, be still," all my anxious fears vanished, and hope
came back strong as ever. The missionary all the time maintained the
most perfect and beautiful equanimity, not speaking much, but
occasionally offering a few words of encouragement to his daughter. She
looked up in his face and smiled.
"I have no fear," she said, calmly. "We cannot be separated, dear
father. Should the ocean overwhelm us, we shall together begin a joyful
eternity. You have taught me that our Redeemer liveth. `I know in whom
I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I
have committed unto Him against that day.'" This hope gave her courage
when others would have shrieked with fear.
The gale continued, the boat driven before it. The night approached.
Darkness came down on the face of the waters. Oh, the horrors of that
night. The sea roared and hissed, and we knew that those mountain waves
were following us as before, though the sight could scarcely distinguish
the vast watery masses which, in the obscurity, seemed doubled in
height. That a delicate girl should exist through the time appeared
indeed surprising; yet, anxious as I was, I could discover no failing of
strength or energy in her.
When the sun went down, the missionary had called on us all to join in
prayer. At midnight he did so again, thereby comfort and consolation
being brought to the souls, I believe, of all of us. He then offered to
take the helm, to allow me a short sleep, which nature much required.
The instant my hand was off the helm, I dropped down and was fast
asleep, too soundly even to dream. I was awoke by a cry from the men,
and starting up, I beheld a sight sufficient to alarm the stoutest
heart. Before us in the direction the men were gazing, as we rose to
the summit of a sea, appeared in the grey light of morning a long row of
breakers unbroken apparently for miles, the sign of a coral reef. The
sea, hurled against it, rose to a height so great in a wall of foaming
water that it was impossible to see beyond whether there was land or
not; indeed that was a matter of indifference I felt, as the boat must
be dashed to pieces and overwhelmed the instant it reached those fearful
breakers. These were the thoughts which flew rapidly through my mind as
with the first impulse of waking I looked ahead. My next was to turn
round, when I saw the venerable missionary standing up on the after seat
gazing earnestly ahead, while his daughter clung to his legs in her
anxiety lest he should be thrown overboard with the violent movement of
the boat.
I could not help being struck, even at that moment, with the appearance
of the old man, so calm and collected, and so earnest as he kept his eye
fixed on some object ahead. "Courage, courage, friends! God will find
us a way to escape," he cried out, at length. "An opening appears in
the reef; yes, yes, the boat is heading in for it." As he spoke, I
observed a dark spot in the wall of foam which an unpractised eye would
not have discovered. As we rushed on towards the breakers, it increased
in width till I felt assured that it was indeed an opening, and now
beyond it appeared the tops of palm, pandanus, and other trees of those
regions, giving us the assurance that we should find land and a haven
where we might rest secure from the storm. Still, humanly speaking, our
peril was fearful. The greatest skill and judgment were required to
guide a boat in a direct course across the tumultuous sea on which we
floated. But looking up at the calm countenance of the missionary, as
he called me to his side, I had no doubt about the result. On we flew.
On either side appeared those walls of foam; one narrow space alone was
to be seen where the waves rushed in unbroken by the resistance of the
reef. We mounted to the summit of a vast billow--it seemed as if it
were about to hurl us on the reef. In another instant we must be
struggling helplessly amid that foaming mass of water I heard a cry of
despair from more than one of my men. But no, the boat's head again
turned towards the opening, and gliding down the billow we dashed
through it, and saw on either side a comparatively smooth lagoon
extending between the reef and the shore. The sheet was immediately
hauled aft, and we ran along parallel with the beach in search of a
favourable place for landing. We could scarcely judge of the size of
the island, but we supposed it to be about three miles in length, and a
mile or two in width, but Mr Bent did not know its name nor the
character of its inhabitants.
The question now arose as to whether they were the treacherous savages
and cannibals most of the islanders of those seas were till the
introduction among them of Christianity, and would attempt our
destruction as soon as we landed, or whether they would receive us with
kindness and hospitality. As yet we had seen neither houses nor people;
but a smooth beach appearing, with a natural quay of rocks, we resolved
to land. We stood in towards the shore, and soon found a calm dock,
into which we ran the boat and secured her. With thankful hearts we
stepped on the dry land, when the missionary exclaimed, "Let us, dear
friends, return thanks to God for the merciful deliverance He has
vouchsafed us." Following his example, we all knelt in prayer, bursting
forth at the end in a hymn of thanksgiving. While we were thus engaged
a sound made me look up, and I saw emerging from among the cocoa-nut
trees a band of unclad Indians with long hair and beards, and armed with
spears, and bows, and clubs. That they were still savage heathens there
could be no doubt. However, as emerging from the wood they saw us
kneeling, they stopped, apparently watching us with the greatest
astonishment. Not till we rose from our knees did they again advance.
Flourishing their weapons, however, with frightful gestures, they rushed
towards us. Happily they did not shoot their arrows. Mr Bent called
out to them, but so loud were their shrieks and cries that his voice was
not heard. We had a couple of muskets and a fowling piece in the boat;
but so completely wetted had they been, that I doubted if they would go
off, even had there been time to get them. We waved our handkerchiefs
and lifted up our hands, to show that we were unarmed, and desired their
friendship; but they disregarded all our signs, and came rushing on.
Our destruction appeared inevitable.
"It's hard lines to lose our lives by these savages, after escaping all
the dangers of the seas," exclaimed one of my men near me.
"Friend, God knows what is best for us," said the missionary, calmly.
"His will is never really hard, though we may think it so. Trust in
Him."
Mary was clinging to her father's arm, ready to share his fate. I stood
by her side, resolved to defend her to the last. The savages were close
upon us, when another person appeared from the wood, flying at full
speed towards us, shouting at the same time in a loud voice to the
savages. He was fully clothed in native fashion, and at first I thought
that he was a chief, till, as he came nearer, I recognised in him our
missing friend Vihala, the Christian teacher. The natives stopped when
they became aware of his approach, and, finding that we made no
resistance, contented themselves with standing around us, till he,
rushing through them, cast himself down at the feet of the missionary,
sobbing with joy at again seeing him. He then turned round to the
natives, telling them that we were their greatest friends, and had left
our homes and come from a far-off land to do them good. He spoke in a
manly, authoritative tone, and greatly to our relief the savages at once
retired, watching us at a distance. Mary's first inquiry was for Alea,
in whom she took a great interest. "She is here, and safe," answered
Vihala; and he then briefly recounted the way in which they had been
brought to the island.
When first escaping, their intention had been to visit Mr Bent, and to
get him to intercede with Alea's father, and to try and conciliate the
heathen chief to whom she was betrothed: but the small canoe in which
they had embarked being driven out of its course, they were unable to
find their way back, and finally reached this island. The weather had
greatly moderated before they got near it, or their frail canoe would in
all probability have been dashed to pieces on the reef. They found a
passage similar to that by which we entered, and with fear and
hesitation approached the beach. Still they had no choice; their water
and food was expended, they were suffering from hunger and thirst, and
their limbs were cramped and chilled, and they must land or perish.
Their chief hope was that the island was not inhabited; for they knew
too well the savage character of the people of most of the islands
surrounding their own to have much hope of escaping without being either
killed or made slaves. They had little doubt that there were
inhabitants, from the fertile appearance of the country, and as their
canoe touched the beach a number of savages darted out of the wood and
surrounded them. They cried out that they had come with no evil intent,
and that they had some news of great importance to announce to them.
Notwithstanding this, the savages showed an inclination to maltreat
them, and were proceeding to rifle their canoe, when another party
appeared on the stage. Vihala at once saw that they were chiefs or
people of consideration, and immediately thereupon cried out, and
entreated that their lives might be spared. The chiefs, for such they
were, came forward, and with some interest asked numerous questions in
their native tongue, and soon there commenced a most affectionate
rubbing of noses all round, and Vihala discovered with great
satisfaction that the chiefs were his own relatives, who had left their
native island some years previously, and were supposed to have been
lost. Alea, as the daughter of the king, they treated with even more
consideration than Vihala.
Most providential was the influence the young people were thereby
enabled to gain over their savage countrymen; nor did they fail to
endeavour immediately to exercise it for good. This was clearly one of
God's ways of working, and one which has been more than once employed in
Polynesia. They had glorious tidings to give,--to describe the new and
beautiful religion brought to them by people from a far-off country, who
had left their native land, their homes, and their families for love of
their souls, in obedience to the loving, merciful God whom they served.
Some listened, rejoicing in the news; others would not understand, and
many turned aside altogether. A small band had, however, been taught by
the Spirit to acknowledge Jesus as their Saviour, and they now welcomed
heartily the missionary who had at first brought the glad news into that
region. Vihala was able to repeat many of the words of truth, which
were dropped as seeds in the hearts of the people. The conduct of Alea,
even in her living in a different part of the island from Vihala,
excited their curiosity and gained their attention. So admirable an
example had they set, and assiduously had they laboured, that many of
those who had become Christians were already well instructed in the
faith, and could give a reason for the hope that was in them. Even the
heathen party appeared to have no enmity towards them; when they heard
that we were people of peace, and anxious only to do them good, they
showed their friendly disposition by bringing us provisions, and in
preparing a house for our reception under the direction of Vihala.
Alea was on the other side of the island when we arrived, so that we had
been on shore some time before she appeared. The meeting between Mary
and her was very affecting. She threw herself into Mary's arms, and
sobbed aloud with joy, exclaiming, "Oh, my sister, my sister,--my more
than sister,--my teacher, my mother, my soul's friend!--and have I found
you again? Do I once more hear that dear voice,--do I once more kiss
those sweet lips which have told me such holy truths? Ah me! I have
gone through much pain and terror, and sorrow and suffering of the
spirit, and I have done very wrong, I fear; but I think that I am
forgiven, because that I am allowed once more to see you in this
wonderful way."
Often have I since thought of the words uttered by that young
unsophisticated child of nature, so lately a child of Satan, and the
remarks made by the venerable missionary to me:--"`My soul's friend!'
Do we, with all our learning, and knowledge, and religious privileges,
thus measure the value of our friends? How many of our friends are our
soul's friends? Oh, as we value our souls, let us try and find out and
cling to those which are so. Do we value most the lips which tell us
holy truths or those which speak to us pleasant words,--flattering
words? Let us seek, my friend, those only whose lips ever speak to us
holy truths,--who will tell us of our faults,--who will not flatter with
their tongues."
I will not repeat more of his remarks, but I may mention that, like all
faithful pastors of the Lord's flock, he never lost an opportunity of
inculcating the truth, of exhorting of advising. He knew the value of a
soul in his Master's sight. The chiefs assured us that our boat would
be safe; so having unloaded her, we hauled her up on the beach, and left
her in charge of some natives, with whom it was arranged my men should
lodge till we were again able to put to sea. I took one of them with me
well armed, as I was myself; for I own that I did not like altogether to
trust the missionary and his daughter alone among the savages, the
greater number of whom were still heathen in all their notions and
customs.