Was the hut deserted, or was the person whom Peter had seen waving his
hands as the canoe drove past still its occupant? The hut was rudely
built, partly of pieces of coral but chiefly of drift-wood, and thatched
with the broad leaves of the pandanus, a species of palm growing on the
island. Charley entered:--yes, it was inhabited. On a rough bed of
dried leaves lay a young man; his cheeks were pale and hollow, his eyes
sunken, but he breathed. "Water, water," he muttered; "oh mercy,
water!"
Happily, Charley had brought a flask with some weak brandy-and-water; he
poured a few drops down the sufferer's throat, while the men dispersed
to try to find water on the island. Charley repeated his remedy, and by
the time the water was found the sufferer was able to sit up long enough
to take a refreshing draught of it. He looked around him with a
surprised and bewildered air. "Who are you all?" he asked at length, in
a low voice. "Where do you come from? I thought that I was left alone
to die."
"Friends and countrymen; but don't speak," answered Charley, for though
he was burning to learn if the sufferer was Jack Askew, he saw that he
was in so weak a state from famine and sickness that any agitation might
prove fatal. Suppressing therefore his curiosity, his great wish was to
get him on board the _Good Hope_, where such food as was best fitted for
his weak state could be procured. Still it seemed very important to
give him some hot food before an attempt was made to remove him.
"I will manage it," exclaimed Elton, producing a calabash. "Let us get
a fire lighted first, and see if any shell-fish or crabs, or perhaps
even a young turtle may be found; I will make some soup, and though it
may be blackish, it will not be the less wholesome."
As soon as the fire was lighted, while the men went to search for the
fish, Elton collected a number of clean rounded stones from the beach
and placed them in the midst of it. He then half-filled the calabash
with water, into which, by means of a cleft stick which served the
purpose of tongs, he put the red hot stones, and quickly made the water
boil. By the time this was done the men returned with a very
respectable sized turtle, which they had caught in a pool, into which he
had been unwittingly washed. Some strips were immediately cut off him
and put into the boiling pot. As soon as their goodness was supposed to
be extracted, they and the stones were taken out with the cleft stick,
and hotter stones and fresh strips put in. In a very short time a thick
and nutritious soup was formed, which, though it would have been
improved with salt, pepper, lemon, and a few other condiments, was well
calculated to restore the vital energies, aided with small doses of
brandy-and-water. Such, at all events, were the only means that Charley
and Elton could think of for giving the sufferer the strength he
required. Whether or not the turtle soup would have served the purpose
without the spirit, or the spirit without the soup, it may be difficult
to determine; at all events, the two combined had a most beneficial
effect.
In the course of two or three hours he was able to sit up of his own
accord, and then, gazing earnestly at those surrounding him, he asked,
"What made you come to look for me? I have watched several ships pass,
but no one saw me; no one thought that on this little island there was a
human being longing to be at home with his friends, who must have long
thought him dead, perhaps forgotten him altogether."
Charley saw that now was the time to speak, and that if the stranger
should prove to be Jack Askew, the news he brought would do him good.
"But, my friend, do you think that a fond mother so easily forgets her
sailor son?--do you think a young loving sister forgets her brother?--do
you suppose that an old sailor father does not know that a person may be
cast on shore on a desert island in these little-known seas, and remain
for years undiscovered?"
"Why do you ask those questions?" asked the lad, leaning forward with
earnest eyes, and eagerly seizing Charley's arm--"How do you know that I
have a sailor father, a fond mother, and a young sister?"
"If you are Jack Askew I know it very well, for your parents and dear
little sister Margery have never ceased to think of you," answered
Charley.
"I am! I am!" exclaimed the lad, throwing his arms round Charley's
neck. "You tell me that they are alive still, father and mother, and
Margery--dear, dear Margery! And are they well?--do they ever expect to
see me?--can they believe that I am alive? All you tell me nearly turns
my head with joy, but it won't kill me; I must live to go back to them."
Charley assured Jack that all were well, and that the only drawback to
their happiness was his absence.
"And Margery! dear, dear little Margery; you must tell me all about
her," exclaimed Jack, after a lengthened pause. "Is she grown?--is she
as fair and bright and beautiful as she was? You don't know how I loved
that little girl. I have often dreamed of her as an angel coming to
look for me and take me home; and I have thought that she was flying
away with me, holding my hand, over the sea and over the land; and oh,
how bitter was the disappointment when I awoke and found that I was
alone."
"You see, Jack, that she was constantly praying for you, and going in
spirit to look for you, and her prayers were heard in heaven, as I am
sure that sincere prayers, rightly prayed, are heard," observed Charley.
"But you must not talk any more just now; have a little more soup, and
go to sleep, if you can, for a short time, and then we will go on
board."
"Thank you; you are very kind indeed, quite like a brother; and I want
to know more about you--who you are, and why you came to look for me?"
said Jack.
"Time enough for that when we get on board," answered Charley; "we have
a somewhat long voyage before us, and it will be well to keep something
in store to talk about."
Jack made no reply, he was indeed too weary to speak. Charley even now,
as he watched over him, felt far from sure that he would ultimately
recover, he was so thin and wan, and when he slept he looked more like a
dead person than one alive.
Two or three anxious hours passed away, and every moment, as Charley
watched the poor lad, he dreaded to see him heave his last sigh; but the
food he had swallowed began to take effect permanently on his system--a
slight colour spread slowly over his cheeks, his breathing became more
regular, and when he awoke there was a brightness in his eye and a
cheerfulness in his voice which Charley had not before observed. He
wished that they could remain some days longer on the island, that Jack
might regain more strength before going on board; but the weather was
uncertain, and a gale might spring up and drive the schooner off, or
perhaps wreck her; and, besides this, Jack entreated that he might be
taken on board, and that no time might be lost in commencing their
homeward voyage.
Hugh Owen was feeling somewhat anxious at the long delay of the boat,
and was standing close in shore with the schooner to look for her, when
she emerged from the passage through the reefs. His delight at seeing
Jack was very great, and he declared that he could scarcely believe his
senses when he found that what they had been so long talking about had
really come true. By standing to the south they should be able to touch
at one of the Harvey or Society Island groups, where they were certain
of a hospitable reception, and of obtaining such provisions as they
might require.
To refit the schooner properly, and to obtain stores for their long
voyage home, it would be necessary to touch at Valparaiso, or some other
port on the coast of Chili. It was a satisfaction to feel that wherever
they touched among the groups of islands which have been mentioned, they
would find civilised men and Christians ready to welcome them as
friends, instead of as formerly savages, who would have taken every
opportunity of murdering them and plundering their vessel. Still, as
the noble-hearted Elton observed, as they looked over the chart of the
Pacific and noted the numberless islands which dotted it in often
thick-clustering groups, there must still exist a great deal of work to
be done, and that he trusted to be able to engage in doing it.
Some days passed before Jack was able to speak much, and even then not
beyond a whisper, or to listen to the account Charley had to give him of
his expedition, and the way it had been brought about. Then, of course,
he also wanted to hear of the doings at Stormount Tower, and how Margery
had been carried off by the smugglers, and how Charley and Tom had
recovered her. "Tom, dear old Tom, how I shall like to wring his horny
fist again; it's as honest a palm as any in England!" cried Jack. "And
you, Charley, what a fine fellow you are; I don't like to talk of giving
Margery to any one, but I would rather give her to you, when the time
comes, than to anybody else in the world; and I suspect that she
wouldn't say nay if she was asked."
Charley said that he hoped so, and turned the conversation.
And now Jack was asked to narrate his own adventures, for hitherto the
subject had been avoided, and he seemed in no way inclined to allude to
it.
"It has been a terrible time indeed, as you may guess," he observed;
"but now that it is over, I ought to think of it with gratitude to the
good God who has preserved me safe through all my dangers. You know how
I sailed in the _Truelove_ with Captain Summers, and how, after touching
at Callao, we steered westward, to visit various islands on our way to
Japan. We were in high spirits, for we thought nothing of the dangers
of the voyage, and only of seeing so many beautiful and strange islands
and their inhabitants. A good look-out was always supposed to be kept
ahead, and we were running one night, in the first watch, believing that
the whole of our voyage would be as prosperous as the commencement, when
the cry arose, `Breakers ahead! Breakers on the starboard bow!'
followed by `Breakers on the port bow!' The helm was put down, the
sheets hauled flat, but before the ship could by any possibility come
about, she struck--then forged ahead, to strike again more heavily.
"Directly every one on board knew that there was not the slightest hope
of saving the ship, scarcely of escaping with our lives. We had a long
night before us, and the wind was increasing. The order was given to
lower the boats, but two were swamped and the hands in them carried
away. We heard their shrieks, but could not help them; besides, we knew
that their fate would soon probably be ours. Then the sea began to beat
over the ship, and soon made a clean breach across the waist, washing
away the captain and the first mate and several more of the men. Just
then a bright light burst forth to the north-east; two or three of the
men who were clinging to the taffrail with me thought that it was a ship
on fire, but after watching it for some minutes we became convinced that
it was a burning mountain. We argued that if there was a mountain there
was land; and I had heard that such lands were generally the most
fertile, and so we hoped that if we could reach it we should find
support.
"There was a light burning in the cabin, and the captain's supper was on
the table; I managed to reach the companion-hatch, and slipped down
below. I quickly snatched up whatever provisions I could find--a
compass, a quadrant, and navigation book, and returned with them on
deck. A small boat hung astern; two of the men, David King and another,
agreed to lower her, for the water astern appeared occasionally to be
comparatively smooth, and we fancied that she might swim where a larger
boat might be swamped; at all events, we believed that the ship was
about to break up, and that this would be the only chance of saving our
lives. There was no time to be lost; we put everything necessary we
could find into the boat, and, jumping in, lowered her down. As she
touched the water, the other man, crying out that we should be swamped,
swarmed up the falls, and in an instant King and I were carried far away
from the ship. I thought his words would come true, but we were driven
on right through the surf, and once more floated in smooth water.
"What would happen next we could not tell, so we lay on our oars,
waiting till daylight. It was very long of coming; we thought that it
never would come--at least that we should never see it. When it broke,
we could no longer see the burning mountain, nor any land in that
direction; nor could we have reached it had we seen it, for the wind was
blowing strong from the quarter in which the light had appeared. Still
more anxiously we looked for the ship; not a portion of her remained
entire, but the numerous pieces of wreck which floated about near us,
told us plainly what had become of her and our shipmates. We looked
about, hoping that some of them might be floating on bits of the wreck,
but no living being was to be seen. In the distance we observed the
bodies of two poor fellows; we pulled up to them, knowing from the first
that they were dead; they were those of two men who had been holding on
to the ship when we left her.
"It would not do to remain where we were, and as we could not sail in
the direction we proposed, we agreed to run before the wind till we
could fall in with some island on which we could land. For four anxious
days we ran on, till some palm-trees appeared ahead rising out of the
water, and we knew that we we approaching a coral island. The wind had
happily fallen, but the surf ahead showed us our danger in time, and
putting down our helm we stood to the southward till we came to the end
of the island; keeping away again we found a passage through the reef,
by which we safely entered the lagoon.
"Here, for the present, we were safe from the dangers of the sea; the
island was uninhabited, and we found a spring of water, but provisions
were not likely to be plentiful. There were cocoa-nuts for one part of
the year, and turtle and their eggs occasionally, and roots and
shell-fish; and after a time it occurred to King that we might be able
to catch some fish. Having walked round and round the island, or
rather, almost round and back again, and considered how we should
procure food, our next care was to build a hut to shelter ourselves from
the sun by day, and the dews by night.
"And now commenced a solitary life, the end of which we could not see.
Years might go by before a vessel might pass that way, and if one should
pass, what little chance was there of our being seen! Still, I do not
think a day went by without our talking on the subject, and looking out
for a sail. King, poor fellow, was not much of a companion, as we had
few ideas in common; but we never grew tired of talking of the
probability of our getting away. He had a wife and family in England
whom he longed to see, as much as I did my friends. How many months or
years went by while he was with me I could not tell, for our life was a
very monotonous one.
"We had kept our boat in as good repair as possible, not with the hope
of making our escape in her, for she was too small for that, but for the
purpose of putting off to get on board any ship which might appear. We
were, therefore, chary of using her, but occasionally we went out
fishing in her, when the supply we could get in the lagoon or from the
shore ran short. One day I was ill, and King said that he would go out
by himself. I warned him not to go, for from the appearance of the sky
I thought bad weather was coming on. He laughed at my fears, said that
he would bring me back a good dinner, and rowed round to the eastward of
the island.
"He had not been gone long before my prognostications were verified; the
wind began to rise. I went to the beach and beckoned him to return, but
he was busy hauling up fish and did not see me, or observe the altered
state of the weather; I shouted, but my voice did not reach him. He had
already drifted out farther than usual; suddenly the movement of the
boat as she got into rough water made him look up. By some carelessness
one of his oars slipped overboard, and before he could recover it the
squall had caught the boat, and whirling it round had sent her far from
it. I saw his frantic gestures as he endeavoured to scull the boat back
toward the island. Now he tried to paddle her with his remaining oar as
an Indian does a canoe, but in vain. Every instant the gale was
increasing and driving her farther and farther away.
"I watched her with a sinking heart growing less and less to my sight,
till she was lost among the foaming seas in the distance. I then for
the first time felt with full force my lonely position; I wrung my hands
like a child; I burst into tears; I bemoaned my hard fate, and thought
that I was forsaken of God and man. Not only was my companion taken
from me, but the only means that I saw by which I could effect my
escape. He might possibly reach some other shore; I should never leave
that on which I was drawing out my weary existence. I see now, from
what you tell me, how short-sighted I was; that our kind Father in
heaven chooses His own way in carrying out plans for our benefit, and
that what I thought was my ruin would ultimately prove the means of my
rescue.
"For several days after King had gone I could neither eat nor sleep, or
if I slept I dreamed that I saw him floating away, and tried to follow
and could not. By degrees I recovered a portion of my tranquillity.
Still I watched more eagerly for any passing ship. It might have been
nearly a year afterwards, one morning as I arose a sail hove in sight.
My heart leaped within me: I thought in my folly that those on board
were coming to look for me. Oh how eagerly I watched her as her masts
rose out of the water! On she came; I could see that she was a ship, a
large ship, a man-of-war by her square yards. She must have sighted the
island, and I thought that she would approach to survey it more
carefully, when suddenly--perhaps some reef unknown to me intervened--
she turned aside, and after hovering in the distance to tantalise me the
more, she slowly stood away to the northward. I was almost as much
overcome as when poor King was blown off the island. I now passed my
days in a dull state of apathy; I had no books, no writing materials.
Had I, as I might when I visited the cabin, brought away a Bible I saw
on the captain's table which he had been reading for the last time, what
a blessing and a comfort it would have, proved to me! I had a knife and
an axe, and I often began to make various articles, but I had not the
heart to finish them, for I always thought--`No one will see them, of
what use will they be?' So the days passed on. Two other vessels
appeared at long intervals, but passed at too great a distance to see
me. One of them was becalmed off the island for some hours, and had I
still possessed the boat I could without difficulty have pulled off to
her. At length I fell sick; I had long been ailing, and it is my belief
that had you not appeared at the moment you did, my career on earth
would soon have been over."
"God, who in His kind mercy had resolved that you should be saved, so
directed our movements for your speedy rescue; so that you owe us no
gratitude," observed Elton. "But I am surprised at the description you
give of your sensations, I had thought that a solitary life on an island
might be made very pleasant and satisfactory."
"Oh, no, no!" cried Jack, "do not believe any such thing. We are not
born to live alone, of that I became convinced. An older man might have
found the life less irksome, but when I took it into my head that I
should never get away it became perfectly terrible. Even had I not been
ill, I do not think that I could have survived many weeks longer."
Such was the outline Jack gave of his life on the island, but when once
he had begun the subject he described many adventures and other details
which showed that there had been rather more variety it his existence
than he had at first led his hearers to suppose, and that had he had
books and paper and pens, he might probably have kept up his spirits
better than he appeared to have done.
"Still, all is well that ends well!" exclaimed Jack, after he had one
day been talking on the subject. "I now feel sure that what I have gone
through was for my ultimate benefit, and I can thank God for the
merciful way in which He has dealt with me."
The _Good Hope_ touched at several islands, the entire population of
which had become Christians not only in name but in deed, as they
evinced by their lives and their totally changed characters. She got a
thorough refit at Valparaiso, on the coast of Chili, to prepare her for
her voyage round Cape Horn, and five months after Jack got on board she
sighted the shores of Old England. Captain Blount felt sure that he
could pilot her safely into Stormount Bay, but the wind fell somewhat,
and the shades of evening came on before the schooner could beat up to
it. Just then a fishing-boat was sighted, and a signal was made to her
that a pilot was wanted. She was soon alongside, and a stout,
middle-aged man stepped on board.
"Can you pilot us into Stormount Bay, friend?" asked the captain.
"I should think I could, since I've sailed in and out of it, man and
boy, for pretty nigh forty years," answered the man. "It makes no
matter night or day to us now either. You see that bright light just
now, beaming out from the top of the cliff it seems? That's the light
the lady who lives in the tower burns every night, that (as they say)
her lost son who went away to sea and has never since been heard of, may
see it when he comes up Channel, and find his way into the bay. Poor
lad, I'd give pretty nigh all I'm worth to see him come back, for I was
the main cause, I fear, why he was sent away; and bless his honest old
father, he has never owed me a grudge for it, but on the contrary, has
done me all the kindness in his power,--he has taught me to be an honest
man."
The fisherman might have run on much longer had not Jack, who overheard
him, exclaimed, "Nor do I owe you a grudge, Dick Herring; but tell me,
old friend, how are my father and mother, and sister Margery, and old
Tom, good old Tom?"
"Why, bless my heart! Master Jack, is it you? Well, it's hard to
believe my senses,--and you to be alive all this time!" exclaimed Dick
Herring, seizing Jack's hand and wringing it nearly off. "They're all
well, every one on 'em, and they will be glad to see you, that they
will."
Dick now recognised Charley, and right proud he was to pilot the _Good
Hope_ into Stormount Bay, nor would he receive a shilling reward, not
even a glass of grog to drink Jack's health, for since he had given up
smuggling and all its accompanying sins, he had become a strict
temperance-league man.
"No, Master Jack, I won't drink your health, but I'll pray for it, and
that'll do us both more good," he observed.
Little did Mrs Askew suppose whose vessel her lantern was guiding into
Stormount Bay that night. The schooner's anchor was dropped and her
sails furled before nine o'clock. The voyagers had purposed waiting
till the morning before going on shore, but Jack's impatience would
brook no delay. Charley went first and announced himself to Becky, who
immediately exclaimed under her breath, "Is he come, Master Charles?"
"Never mind," answered Charley, "Do you go in and say Charley Blount has
come."
Somebody heard his voice, and that somebody, forgetting that he was not
Jack himself, rushed into his arms. "Has Jack come? has Jack come?
Dear Charley, have you brought him?" exclaimed Margery.
"I can't keep you in suspense, my sweet Margery, he has come, and is not
far off," answered Charley and before he could say more, Tom, who had
followed Becky to the door, darted out into the darkness, and was soon
heard exclaiming, "Come in, come in, my dear boy, joy does no harm to no
one!"
Mrs Askew, who had been sitting at her work opposite Captain Askew, who
was reading the newspaper by a bright light, hearing an unusual
commotion, rose from her seat, as he also did from his.
"What is it all about, Margery?" cried the captain, stumping to the
door.
"Good news, father, good news!" cried Margery. "Charley has come back
safe, and he has--"
"Has he brought our boy--has Jack been found?" asked the captain, his
voice trembling with eagerness.
"Yes, dear father, he has, he has!" cried Margery.
"Then let me have him here, and thank God!" cried the old sailor,
stretching out his arms; and Jack, who had been hauled in by Tom,
overheard him, and in another second, bounding up the stairs, was folded
in those arms, with his mother and Margery clinging to his neck and
weeping tears of joy.
The evening was indeed a happy one, and not till a late hour did any of
the inmates of Stormount Tower think of retiring to rest.
While Mrs Askew lived, the light in the Tower was always, as before,
lit at night, and on her death a lighthouse was built in its place.
Charley Blount at a very early age, got command of a fine trader to
India and Australia, and on the death of her parents Margaret Askew
became his wife, while Jack was chief mate with Captain Blount for many
years; and when the latter came to live on shore, Jack took command of a
fine ship he had built, called _The Stormount Tower_.