ON A CORAL ISLAND.
“Fortunately for us it is calm,” said Tom, when, after two or three
hours’ paddling, Seaman and myself began to complain that the land
seemed to remain as far away as ever. “Never mind; pull on my boys,”
said Tom.
“Why so, Tom?” I asked.
“Can’t you see how as we’ve been having the south-east trades regular
till about a week ago; and they may set in again at any time, and then
instead of creeping toward land, we should be blown away to leeward?”
Certainly Tom Arbor was right, and that we might soon expect the trades
to be blowing from their accustomed quarter was evident by the long
swell which was rolling up from the south-east; and the idea of being
blown away from the land, which was already in sight, was quite enough
to make us toil away at our paddles without flagging or complaining.
When the sun was high over our heads at mid-day, we were obliged to stop
for a short spell, and begged for water; and though Tom at first
refused, as he said we were not yet on shore, after much begging he
relented and gave us a half-pint pannikin full each.
Refreshed by this, we took to our paddling with renewed vigour, though
we were somewhat dismayed to find that during our short rest we had
drifted back a part of our hard-won distance.
“Never mind, my boys,” said ever-cheery Tom; “pull away, and as we get
closer we shall be protected by the island from the current.” And, as
the event proved, his words were true, for after paddling for another
hour and a half we came to a bit of broken water where the current,
which was divided by the coral island, met again, after passing through
which we found we made good progress, and at about half-past four we
found ourselves close to the shore.
On the side we approached there was no surf, and we were able to beach
the boat in safety, and carrying the anchor up we buried it in the
ground, and securing the cable to it we were able to leave the boat
safe.
We were glad indeed to find ourselves ashore, and went up to the
cocoanut palms which we had seen to look for some fallen nuts, but our
attention was soon drawn to the peculiarities of the place. The island
was in the form of a circle, enclosing a lagoon about a mile and a half
in diameter, while the width of the encircling reef, for it was little
more, was not over a hundred and fifty yards. On the outside the edges
went sheer down, but inside they sloped away gradually, and on the
weather or south-eastern side a heavy surf was breaking.
We soon found some cocoanuts, and hacking off the outside covering with
a hatchet, we cut through the shell, and enjoyed a refreshing draught of
the sweet, cool milk, and then splitting them open we ate the kernels.
Bill and I now proposed to take our belongings out of the boat, and make
a tent out of the sail.
“Not so quick,” answered Tom. “I know all these reefs have an opening
somewhere on the lee-side, through which the lagoon can be entered. Now
I will take a musket and go one way, and you two take another and go the
other way, and whichever finds an entrance will fire; and then we shall
all come back to the boat, and bring her in.”
This was soon settled, and seeing that the boat was properly secured, we
started off, Bill and I going towards the south, and Tom towards the
north. Every step seemed to give new life to Bill and me; for we both
agreed that to be on an uninhabited island was one of the most
delightful things that could possibly happen, and that it was indeed a
happy change after the cruel treatment to which we had been subjected on
board the _Golden Fleece_. Along the sand ran multitudes of crabs,
which, as we approached, dodged into their burrows, emerging again as
soon as we had passed. Seaweeds of strange form and colour were
scattered about, and among the cocoanut palms were grasses and plants
the like of which we had never seen before, while besides seabirds of
many kinds we were delighted to see pigeons flying about, larger than
those we are accustomed to in England, and of brighter plumage.
“I say, Sam Hawse,” said Bill to me after we had been walking about a
quarter of an hour, “this is a jolly place. See, there’s a pigeon on
that trunk. Give me the gun, and let’s have a shot.”
“No, no, Bill,” I answered; “wait, for that would bring Tom running back
to us, and I know he would be angry. Let’s find the entrance if we can.”
Scarcely were the words out of my mouth when we heard Tom Arbor’s
musket, and turning back we hurried towards the boat, which we reached
just after he did.
“Bear a hand, my hearties,” he cried, as soon as he saw us. “Look there
to the westward; there’s another of the same squalls as the one we lost
the _Golden Fleece_ in coming up; that’s why the trades aren’t blowing.
We must get the boat inside before it comes, or she’ll be knocked to
pieces here.”
No words on his part were necessary to make us hurry, for the whole
western horizon was banked up with heavy clouds; and lifting the anchor
we put it in the boat, and then launched her off the narrow beach.
We gave way with a will along the shore, and soon came to the entrance
which Tom had found, which was some thirty feet wide and ten deep.
“There are others farther on,” said Tom, “so we must pull back some
little way to get good shelter;” and finding, after pulling along on the
inside for five minutes or so that the reef seemed higher there than
elsewhere, we determined on landing.
Accordingly we put the boat ashore, and hauling her up as high as we
could, we ran out the cable and made it fast round the stem of a
cocoanut tree, and then began to make our preparations for the night.
“To-night,” said Tom, “as there’s no time to build a hut, we can use the
sail for a tent; so, Bill, you bring it ashore, while Sam and I lash the
mast to those two palms for a ridge pole.”
The rising of the clouds warned us that we had no time to lose, so as
quickly as we could we rigged up our tent and tied the sail down to
small palm trees to prevent its being blown away; and then we brought
our muskets, ammunition, and all other belongings, including the
trade-box, up, and arranged them under its shelter, and Bill and I were
soon quite delighted at the appearance of our little tent.
However, we had not much time for looking about, for the rain came down
heavily on us, and was soon followed by a squall of wind, which levelled
our tent with the ground, burying us under the folds of the wet canvas.
We scrambled out as quickly as we could, but such was the fury of the
blast that we could scarcely keep our feet, and we could hear the crash
of falling palms all around us, while the feathery heads of those that
stood could be seen waving wildly by the lurid light of the flashes of
lightning, which were accompanied by peals of deafening thunder.
We did all we knew to prevent the sail being blown away, as once or
twice seemed more than probable; for the wind, getting under a corner,
lifted it up and almost tore it from our grasp. Indeed, we were dragged
along by it for some little distance, when it came against a palm that
stayed it, and soon the palm with the canvas wrapped around it fell, and
effectually secured it.
Ere long a new terror was added to our situation, for by the glimpses
given us of our island refuge by the lightning, we saw that the reef
both to the right and left of us was entirely under water, and that the
spot we had chosen for our camp seemed as if it might be submerged at
any moment.
“The boat!” cried I; “let’s get into her sooner than stay here to be
drowned.”
But that hope of refuge was cut off from us, for as we started towards
her we saw her driven from her moorings and blown away towards the other
side of the lagoon.
I know I lost heart, and began to wring my hands and to cry out that we
should die, and Bill Seaman told me since that he was quite as
frightened as I was. Tom Arbor, however, kept his presence of mind, and
said, “Don’t be frightened, lads; the Lord, who preserved us in the boat
and brought us here, will not desert us ashore. Let us pray to Him now.”
Suiting his action to his words, Tom knelt down, and amid the driving
rain and spray offered up a prayer, and Bill and I followed his example.
The words may not have been according to formula, but I am sure they
were meant reverently; and as if in answer to our prayer, the wind fell,
and the rain ceased, and the stars shone brightly, while the water
subsided from the surface of the reef.
We instantly set to work to look after our belongings, and found that
the mast had been snapped in two and the sail torn, but that no real
harm had happened to anything else.
We felt very cold and shivery, and Bill’s teeth rattled like a pair of
castanets, and he said, “I wish we could make a fire; but there’s
nothing to burn. Everything is soaking wet with the rain.”
“Rain can’t soak all the way through the husk of a cocoanut,” said Tom,
“and there are plenty of old ones about. Now set to work to look for
them, while I find a hatchet to split them up.”
We soon found not only a lot of nuts which were withered, and on being
split open gave us lots of dry fibre, but also we found that many of the
fronds which lay about had been so protected from the rain and spray by
others that lay upon them that they were fit for fuel; and from the
net-like shield or spathe of the base of the fruit-stalk we easily made
kindling; and not more than half an hour after the end of the storm we
had a fire blazing brightly, and were broiling turtle steaks over it and
drying our clothes, laughing and talking as if we had not just escaped
from death by the fact of our having chosen a bit of reef a few feet
higher than the rest for our camping-place.
After a time I said, “I wonder if this island has a name. I think we may
as well give it one. What do you say to Ring Island? It is just in the
form of one, and where we came in is like where the stone is set.”
The other two laughed at me, and Tom said, “We want something more
practical than a name; though, if you like, we will call it Ring Island.
We have to think how we are to live, and how we are to get away; for I
for one do not wish to stop for ever here.”
“Certainly not,” chimed in Bill and myself; “but what are your ideas?”
“I’ve had no time to think yet; but I have one, and that is that we had
better go to sleep now, and then to-morrow we must explore the island,
and see if we can find our boat or what remains of her.”
Bill said he did not feel sleepy; but Tom argued that if we did not
sleep now, we should want to sleep in the daytime, when we should be
working, and that sleep we must in order to live.
We all laughed at this, and piling fuel on the fire we made ourselves a
nest of dry leaves near it, and were soon all sound asleep.
I was awaked the next morning by Tom shaking me by the shoulder, and
opening my eyes found it was broad daylight. Bill Seaman was sitting up
yawning, and saying he did not think he had been to sleep at all.
“Nonsense,” said Tom; “I’ve been up half an hour and got some breakfast
ready. See here,” and he pointed to a tin plate full of turtle steaks,
which he had cooked. “Now make haste, both of you, and eat your
breakfasts, and then we’ll start off.”
We needed no bidding to make us fall to; but when we came to drinking, I
said, “It’s all very well drinking cocoanut milk; but I think we may get
tired of that, and the island does not seem big enough for a river.”
“I’ve been looking about,” said Tom, “before I woke you, and close by I
found some pools of rain-water; so we can fill our beakers and the
trade-chest, for that’s water-tight; and lest the water should dry up or
leak away, we had better do so at once.”
This was soon done, and then, having covered up all our belongings with
leaves, we each took a musket and some cartridges, a cocoanut shell full
of water to drink, and some turtle to eat, and set out on our journey of
discovery.
As we left our camp we found that the cocoanut palms had been levelled
all along the reef, except where we had been, and on the side of the
lagoon opposite; and we soon found that to get round the island by
toiling through and across the prostrate trunks, which lay strewn in
inextricable confusion, would be more than we could do in one or even
two days.
How were we to manage to get round to the other side, was now a question
to be solved; and after some consultation we determined to return to our
camp and set to work to build some sort of raft or catamaran, in which
we might navigate the lagoon enclosed by the reef, a proposition on
Bill’s part that we should wade and swim along the shore being decidedly
negatived by the appearance of a huge, hungry-looking shark, that looked
as if it would have been only too glad to make a meal off us.