WE BUILD A HUT.
My old tutor at Eton used to say, quoting some "wise saw," that "a
lazy boy made a lazy man, just as a crooked sapling makes a crooked
tree."
It was fortunate for me, however, while on the island of Alphonso,
that my habits were those of activity, and that I was never lymphatic
by nature.
After dawn next morning we set about the erection of a hut, though we
had no other tools than a small hatchet and our clasp-knives. With
these we cut or tore down a great number of large branches, and stuck
them in the earth, selecting a place where two angles of impending
rock conveniently enough formed two solid walls for our edifice,
leaving us but two others to erect.
As Tom Lambourne said, "the fellow who cannot use a hammer or axe, is
only _half a man_," so we all worked hard with such implements as we
had, until our hut was complete.
We left an entrance next the rocks by which to creep in and out, and
then thatched or built over the intertwisted branches with turf, torn
up by our hands, and with broad plantain leaves, creepers, and all
kinds of tendrils that had toughness and consistency woven to form a
roof.
At the erection of this most primitive wigwam we toiled the whole
day, save during the scorching interval of noon, and ere nightfall it
was complete, with piles of dried leaves and seagrass for couches and
bedroom furniture.
Therein we placed all our provisions--the three bags of bread, two
kegs of rum (which by unanimous consent were placed under the sole
supervision of Hislop); our four casks of water were also brought
ashore, though there was no lack of pure springs on the island.
In this wigwam were also placed our blankets, the sails and tackle of
the longboat, and then the succeeding days were spent in accumulating
provisions (as we looked forward with dread to our last biscuit), and
a signal-post was erected on the mountain.
With Probart the carpenter, and Henry Warren (two of our stoutest
hands), Tom Lambourne and I went upon this duty.
Alternately carrying on our shoulders or dragging in our hands the
studding-sail boom, we toiled through wild and untrodden wastes,
toward the summit of the great and yet nameless conical mountain that
rears its lonely scalp to the height of five thousand feet above the
waves of the Southern sea.
The hope that on reaching its summit we _might_ descry a sail, was an
additional incentive to toil up the steep slope without lingering by
the way.
On leaving a flat savanna of sedge-grass we reached a series of
wooded ridges which form the base of the mountain, at every step
rousing clouds of birds, especially a species of blackcock, and twice
in the jungle we came upon the lair of wild boars of great size and
such ferocity of aspect that we were glad to shrink astern of
Tattooed Tom, who carried the hatchet.
This jungle was exceedingly difficult of penetration, owing to its
density, the number of wild aloes, with creeping plants, prickly
pears, and other tropical weeds, of what kind I know not, twined
about them. It was a literal wilderness of serrated grass blades,
yellow gourds, and great squashy pumpkins like gigantic vegetable
marrows, all woven into an inextricable network of leaves, tendrils,
and branches.
In other places we had to force a passage through thickets of richly
flowered shrubs and tall plants with mighty leaves, the general
greenery of the landscape being increased by the many runnels of fine
spring water which poured down the fissures of the mountain into the
plain we had left.
By the sides of these runnels, we frequently paused, and making a cup
of a large leaf, filled it with the cool, limpid water that gurgled
over the rocks, to quench our constant thirst; and for a time such
vegetable cups were the only drinking vessels we had while on the
island of Alphonso.
At last we gained the summit of the mountain, and with mingled
satisfaction and anxiety in our hearts, swept the horizon with eager
eyes.
Not a sail was in sight!
Far as our eyesight could reach around us, in a mighty circle, rolled
the waters of the Southern Atlantic, almost tepid with heat, and pale
and white, as they seemed to palpitate under the rays of the
unclouded sun.
At our feet lay the whole isle of Alphonso and its two rocky
appendages, with the encircling sea boiling in the narrow chasms
between them, with a fury which was the result of contrary currents,
and which formed a singular contrast to its calmness elsewhere.
After a brief rest we prepared to set up the signal-post.
Tom took off his shirt, and drawing from his pocket a piece of
spunyarn, which a seaman is seldom without, he lashed his
under-garment to the end of the studding-sail boom, and by the aid of
the hatchet and our hands, we scraped a hole sufficiently deep in
which to erect the spar, and then jammed it hard and fast with
stones. As the shirt was blown out flag fashion upon the wind, we
hoped it would prove a sufficient indication to a vessel approaching
from any quarter that there were people on the island in want of
succor.
For some hours we lingered on the mountain-top, in the fond hope of
seeing a sail, and then returned slowly downward to the beach, where
our shipmates awaited us at the wigwam which now formed our home, and
which we jocularly designated the capital city of Alphonso.