IN CANNIBAL ISLANDS.
The crew of the derelict brig _Resolute_ had certainly not been idle
during the year and a half and over they had been prisoners on the
cannibal islands. It was perhaps a lucky day for the natives when
their boats drew up upon the beach with the sailors, more dead than
alive, without arms or clothes, except what they wore, completely at
the mercy of the naked and fierce-looking savages that crowded round
them.
Here was a chance for these islanders, such as might not occur again
in a score of years. Nothing could be more to their taste than the
programme mapped out by their chief, and to be carried out on the
following day.
First, Revenge. For they could not forget that long ago a white
man's ship had cast anchor in this very bay, and that they had
treated the men who landed with kindness and hospitality, albeit they
would have preferred picking their bones. They remembered that
event, and they did not forget either that in return for their
hospitality those white fiends stole their women and their little
ones, and put out to sea. Revenge is sweet.
Secondly, a short but bloody massacre of these innocent white men.
And thirdly, a glorious feast of roasted flesh to follow--a feast of
white men's flesh, that they should look back to with satisfaction
and delight as long as they lived.
So next morning the island had been all _en gala_. Huge fires were
built on which to roast the sailors whole, and big round stones made
hot to place in their insides, so that both outside and inside they
might be done to a turn.
But, lo! when they had dragged the miserable sailors out of the
compound, and everybody was itching to club them, they had found they
were little more than skin and bone and grief.
This would never do; they must be fed and fattened. So they were
penned in the king's own compound. But somehow they couldn't or
wouldn't fatten; and besides, the king began to be mightily
entertained with them. Seeing that this was the case, not only the
Yankee skipper himself, but his nine men--all the rest of his crew,
by the way, had been drowned--set themselves to please. They danced,
they sang, and they even boxed with each other, all for this sable
and savage King Ota's delectation.
Ota soon found out he had drawn a real prize in the lottery of life,
and would now no more have consented to kill and eat his prisoners
than you, reader, would your pet and expensive pigeons.
But meanwhile another savage king on another island had heard of
Ota's luck, and sent to beg for half the white men, that he too might
be tickled and amused. Ota replied, saying he would see the other
king skinned first.
Well, there was some skinning after this; for that other king invaded
Ota's island, and the battle on the beach raged fierce and bloody for
many a long hour. The Yankee skipper and his merry men had been
obliged to join the fight on Ota's side, and victory was at last
obtained. The other king's men fled seaward in their boats, leaving
more than a hundred dead and wounded on the beach. But the dreadful
cruelties to the prisoners, and the awful orgies that were carried on
for many days afterwards, I have no language to describe.
When all the killed were eaten, the bones were taken to "ornament"
the kraal of the king, round which the savage soldiers danced and
howled for days and nights to the unearthly music of tom-toms and
conch-shells, accompanied by rattles made of the dead men's skulls
with pebbles in them, and much yelling and brandishing of spears.
This feast, from first to last, was so terrible that the hair of
several of the sailors turned white before it ended.
But peace ever since then had reigned in King Ota's island, and he
had even become friendly again with the king who lived on the other
side of the water. However, Ota would never permit his white men to
go on the sea in a boat or canoe. They were too useful to risk.
They built him a whole cottage, and taught his people to do many
wonderful things. They laid out gardens even, in which yams and
sweet potatoes, with cassava root and many other vegetables,
flourished most luxuriantly.
But for all the king's kindness to them--and in a savage kind of way
he really did treat them well--the poor white men pined, and longed
to see a ship appear on the horizon.
Every morning of their lives when they left the huts in which they
slept, guarded as prisoners, they betook themselves towards the
hill-top.
They told Ota they went thither to pray. Well, to their credit be it
said, they did pray; but many was the wistful glance they cast
seawards in hopes of catching sight of the coming ship.
* * * * * *
One morning the ship did heave in sight.
That ship was the little _Island Queen_.
Just an hour after she had first been sighted, Ota, the king, called
his prisoners before him.
A translation of the speech he made then would read somewhat as
follows:
"White men people. King Ota is the biggest king in all the wide
world. There is no end to his greatness or his glory. He has
destroyed his enemies in many a bloody battle both by sea and land,
and cooked and eaten them afterwards. Even the birds of the air fly
round the head of King Ota when he takes his walks abroad, and scream
their worship in his large and willing ears. And the dark frigate
bird, the _eewaoo_, carries the story of King Ota's glory to the
utmost regions of the earth. King Ota's arm is very strong, but King
Ota's heart is as big and soft as a _jeetee_ (the jelly fish). When
Ota saw the poor white sailors land on his shore, his first thought
was to club and eat them, after smearing his wives and little ones
with their bright red blood. But his soft _jeetee_ heart forbade; so
he has kept them, and is very kind to them. But now behold a white
man's ship has appeared in the bay, and they may want to take the
king's dear prisoners away. But they must not know they are here. I
must hide them in the innermost shades of the forest, and keep them
secure until the ship departs. Away with them guards, and if they
attempt to escape kill them, and we will feast ourselves on their
bodies."
This was a sad sentence, but there was no relenting in King Ota, so
they were marched away into the depths of a dark wood, and imprisoned
in a bamboo hut, which was guarded by the spearsmen of the savage
king.
* * * * * *
"Now, Frank," said Fred, "what is to be done first?"
That is what Captain Arundel, of the model yacht _Island Queen_ said,
as soon as the anchor was let go in the beautiful bay off the Isle of
Ota.
"That's what I should like to know, Fred," was Frank's reply. "I'm
ready to obey you in everything, and fight for you, and stick by you
to the last; but, faith, Fred, I'm a poor hand at giving advice."
"I should say," said Mac, "we'd better first try to make friends with
these black beggars."
"They don't look very friendly," said Frank.
This was true; for though many dug-outs had shoved off from the
shore, they kept severely aloof from the little yacht.
Quambo was sent down below to question the two captured savages, whom
it was thought advisable for the present to keep out of sight.
The savages assured Quambo that this really was Ota's island, but
that he would doubtless not permit the white men to appear. If they
could lure the crew of the _Island Queen_ on shore, they would, said
they, kill and eat them, but they would not attack the vessel till
nightfall.
This was a rather gloomy outlook, and as no white men could be seen
on the beach, Fred could only come to the conclusion that they were
hidden away somewhere. He determined, however, that he would not be
deterred from landing and seeking an interview with the king on the
beach.
So Fred, with Quambo and Mac, lowered the boat, and boldly proceeded
to row towards the shore. Quambo was to act as interpreter.
The boat was fully armed with revolvers and rifles, with spears also,
lest they might have to come into close quarters with the cannibals.
The canoes certainly did not scatter in all directions at the
approach of the white men's boat, but they drew sullenly off.
When within thirty yards of the shore they lay on their oars, and
immediately afterwards the beach swarmed with spear-armed,
wildly-gesticulating savages. Among them was a personage arrayed in
an old pilot jacket, and nothing else, so that with his long black
legs sticking out from under he had anything but a very imposing
appearance.
He had a spear in his right hand, and by a string in the other was
leading along a good-sized pig, of all creatures in the world.
Conversation was at once opened up, and proceeded somewhat as follows:
_Quambo_. "Are you the king of this island?"
_Ota_. "I am King Ota, the greatest king in all the world."
_Quambo_. "And we are poor white men who want food and water."
_Ota_. "I have brought this pig to make you a present of. How much
will you pay me for this pig?"
"That's a queer way of making a present," said Fred, when the king's
words were interpreted. "Tell him we will give him a beautiful
jacket and a pair of white duck trousers to hide his dirty black
legs. Hold up the garments."
_Quambo_ (holding up the trousers and blue jacket). "Here, O great
and good king, we have brought you a coat for your brave body, and a
pair of white ducks for your lovely legs!"
_Ota_. "Land and leave them."
_Quambo_. "No, leave the pig, and we will land and exchange; but you
must retire."
Fred now determined to bring matters to a crisis. These savages had
never seen or heard of fire-arms, so now raising a rifle to his
shoulder he took aim and fired, and, lo! Ota's pig dropped dead at
his feet. The smoke had hardly cleared away till, with terrible
shouts and shrieks, the savages had fled in all directions. For just
one brief moment the greatest king in all the world stood looking
down at poor piggie weltering in its gore, then with an eldritch
scream he too fled away.
"Pull on shore quickly now, lads," cried Fred, and the boat was
quickly beached. The pig was lifted on board, the jacket and
trousers laid on the sands, and off they shoved again, and were soon
once more safely on their own quarter-deck.
In an hour's time, however, they had the satisfaction of seeing King
Ota come down to the beach, dress in the new clothes, then stride
gallantly away, followed by all his sable suite.
Instead of lying at anchor all night, and probably thus courting an
attack, it was thought advisable to put out to sea, where they could
bid defiance to a whole fleet of armed canoes.
The king presented himself on the beach next day, but he had no pig.
It was noticed too that not a woman or child was permitted to appear;
and this Quambo assured Fred was a certain sign that these savages
meant to fight.
Now fighting was no part of Fred's policy. With all his courage and
daring it would be ruinous not only for his party, but for those he
sought to rescue, to go to war with these savages. Against such
numbers he could only act on the defensive, and this but for a very
short time. So he determined to make friends by every means in his
power. He once more, therefore, drew near to the beach and held
parley with King Ota, or King Breeches, as Magilvray called him.
Fred informed him that he came now on a friendly mission; that he
desired everlasting peace between the white men and the blacks; and
that in proof of this if he, King Ota, would venture on board he
should be treated kindly and receive many more presents, even a
fire-stick such as he, Fred, had slain the pig with the day before.
The offer of a gun was certainly a great temptation, but it evidently
was not great enough to induce King Ota to risk his sacred person on
board the _Island Queen_.
"Would the white man leave the fire-stick on the beach and go away?"
he asked.
"No; the white man would do nothing of the sort."
"Would the white man then kill something else?"
To this Fred made reply, that if the greatest king in all the world
wanted a pig for his own dinner, and would bring one to the beach,
the white man would kill it.
On this the king seemed suddenly to be struck by a happy thought. He
held communication with his dusky warriors; a few of them retired to
the bush, and after a while re-appeared dragging along a poor woman.
She was stationed on the fore-shore, and stood there with drooping
head patiently waiting for the death she expected. The king and his
warriors stood aside at a safe distance. Then pointing to the woman
Ota hailed the boat. "That is the pig that the greatest king in all
the world wants to eat for dinner, make fire, quick, quick."
Fred felt strangely tempted to give the king himself a shot. So
inhuman a monster he had never before held communication with.
At this moment a huge black-brown kite came wheeling round his dusky
majesty's head; slowly it sailed tack and half tack.
Now Mac had been the best shot in the _San Salvador_. Fred gave him
the rifle.
"Bring down that bird," he cried. "Pray don't miss."
Steady was the aim Magilvray now took. Bang went the rifle. The
king's eyes were turned towards the poor woman, his face beaming with
fiendish delight in the expectation of seeing her fall. Instead of
that there alighted on his royal head a huge mass of blood and
feathers. He uttered a yell that could have been heard a good mile
off, and threw himself struggling on the ground.
It was a rash thing for Fred to do; but there was no help for it now,
and almost before Quambo and Magilvray could get way on the boat
spears were hurled after them, and a wild rush made towards the
canoes.
That was indeed a race for life; but Quambo and Mac made the gig fly
and skip across the water, and not only were they aboard, but the
boat was hauled up, before the savages in their clumsy canoes could
get alongside.
"Shake out the mainsail. Get the anchor up." These were the orders
now.
Just one volley was fired at the advancing canoes, which staggered
and sent them back, and before they had recovered from their
consternation the sails were set, and the _Island Queen_ stood
steadily out to sea.
But the shooting of that foul bird had ruined everything, as far as
peace was concerned.