_Discovery of a new Island not to be found in our Maps._
Therefore forty of us (among which I was one) declared our
inclination of reconnoit’ring this island: It was rocky, sandy, and
therefore desart, which we supposed to be the reason of it’s being
never noticed by seamen; for as the Arches are a kind of a serpentine
walk on the sea, a Dedalean labyrinth, it is more than possible,
it is morally probable, that one thousand mariners in one thousand
years, might never be obliged by storm, course, chance, or accident
to have entered into the narrow ferry, or ferries, dividing it from
forty others, insignificant as itself, which surround it. So that
we were not surprized that after searching all the maps, charts,
gazetteers, and even the great geographical dictionary for this
island, we found all our attempts to find it entirely fruitless and
abortive; on the hazard of reconnoit’ring the island, which was not
seemingly more than two leagues in length and one in breadth, we took
four rounds of cartridge, that in case of an attack, we might be
able to facilitate our retreat to the boats; we went up about half a
mile into the country, when we could plainly espy without glasses,
a great number of the inhabitants on a hill who seemed flocking
together to observe our motions, not without seeming apprehension
of an invasion, which notwithstand from their numbers compared to
ours, they must have laughed at; however, we made friendly signals
of distress to invite them down, which they seemed, either not to
understand, or to disregard; we then took courage, thinking that they
could be no more than a parcel of peasants, or at best a raw militia,
so we proceeded to the foot of the hill, but on our advancing so far,
and looking forward, instead of having the least retrospect towards
the ground we had passed, our small corps was quite surrounded, and
made prisoners of war. They took from us our arms, without entering
into any discourse with us, and taking the barrels out of the stocks
with more dexterity than a gun-smith, they planted them on a rising
ground, and returning us the empty stocks, pointed to the artillery
they had just planted, with the greatest solemnity and presence
of mind, and then making signs that we should depart, dismissed
us, still pointing to our gun-barrels, significantly expressing
by their silence, (for they said not a word) that our own arms
should be pointed against us, if we dared come there again; we were
very well satisfied with this discharge, since as there appeared
several thousand of them against us poor forty, we prudently did not
discharge one piece at them, which might have irritated them to such
a degree, as to cut us to pieces; so we made a fine expedition of
it, and returned in safety to our boats, which conveyed us on board,
where when we appeared with our empty stocks without barrels, we were
heartily laughed at by our ship-mates.
Here _Hugh of the Borough_ interrupted _Tom Traveller_, by asking
him, what manner of people the natives of the island were,
seeing they were so grave, reserved, and silent, to which _Tom_
replied, will you believe me, _Hugh_, every mother soul of them
_Monkeys_.—_Monkeys_, I assure you upon the word of a traveller, and
ever since from our journal of observations, we have marked down
the place, and given it the name of _Monkey-Island_, and it is well
known in a true and correct map, since engraved and published.—Now
as we cannot attest the truth of this last part of _Tom Traveller_’s
relation, concerning either the discovery of this new island, or the
circumstantial particulars of their being disarmed, yet this we are
sure of, that there are several miraculous events, and as equally
unknown islands set down in the maps, charts, journals, voyages, and
travels of very grave and credible writers both ancient and modern,
whom, nevertheless we do not pretend to discredit, nor do presume
to dis-authenticate, since they, bear an equal shew of probability
with the relation of _Tom Traveller_, who by his name has a right to
stretch as well as those worthy voyagers or map-makers. Here ended
his narrative, however, and upon that sole account here endeth the
twelfth chapter of our history.