By sunrise the following morning the gale had pretty nearly blown itself
out. The heavy masses of clouds had rolled away, and a bright sun was
shining on the smooth water of the bay. Outside, the ocean was still
boiling and seething under the influence of the late heavy gale, but the
waves, though tipped with foam, were rolling sluggishly, as if tired
with their wild efforts.
The "Halcyon," late her Majesty's brig "Torch," did not look by any
means the same vessel that had sailed from Quillimane. Neither of her
masts were wholly standing. The main-topgallant mast with yards and
gear was gone; the fore-topmast with all above it had disappeared, while
the bowsprit looked a naked stump, and the splintered white edge of the
smashed bulwarks fully attested the violence of the ordeal she had gone
through. Not a regular trader, and being fitted out for a long cruise,
Captain Weber was in no hurry to make a port. Having little cargo, and
that selected for trading purposes, the brig was well provided with
spare spars and sails, and, with the exception of Santa Lucia Bay on the
coast of Natal, a better harbour for refitting her could hardly have
been found. The rigging was covered with wet clothing, shaking about in
the breeze. From the able seaman's tarpaulin and long boots to the
captain's pea-jacket, and Donna Isabel's drenched cloak, all were there
drying in the sunshine. The "Halcyon" rode with her bows to seaward,
while astern lay the beach shaped like a crescent, and composed of fine
sand glittering in the beams of the morning sun. The luxuriant forest
growth swept down nearly to the water's edge, and the long straight
stems of the cocoa-nut trees, with their tufts of thin leaves, shot up
here and there like giants from among the lower growth. The crew, with
the exception of two men, had been sent below, the brig being
land-locked, or nearly so, and no possible danger apprehended, and as
these men had been regularly relieved during the darkness, both crew and
passengers had enjoyed a good night's repose.
It was about eight o'clock when Captain Weber appeared on the
quarter-deck; walking aft, he looked at the now useless compass, and
then glanced aloft, from a seaman's habit.
"Let the men have their breakfast, Mr Lowe, comfortably, and then we'll
go to work."
"We have a spare topmast and topgallant mast, Captain Weber; but I have
been rummaging over the spars, and can find nothing that will do for the
main-topgallant mast."
"Is there any stick that will serve for a jib-boom?"
"Yes, sir; there is a spare fore-yard, which the carpenter thinks may
do."
"Very good. The moment the men have done breakfast get the boats into
the water. We will carry out an anchor astern, and keep the jade a
close prisoner, to teach her not to pitch the spars out of her. Call me
when they are towing astern." And Captain Weber dived down to finish
his toilet.
Below, all marks of the late gale had disappeared. The steward and his
mate had been busy since daylight, and the more than ordinarily
comfortable though small cabin was in perfect order, when the passengers
sat down at the breakfast table at nine o'clock. Of course the brig had
not the slightest motion; in fact, she was as though in dock.
"Rather a difference this from yesterday, Dom Maxara," said Wyzinski, as
that nobleman appeared coming from his cabin.
"A difference for the better. Will you oblige me by explaining to our
captain," continued the old gentleman, "that my daughter, Donna Isabel,
begs to be excused from joining the party? She is still suffering from
the shock of late emotions."
A ceremonious bow followed the interpretation, on the part of the
Portuguese, the Englishman replying with his mouth full.
"Ay, ay, signor, and small blame to her. It is not every day the fishes
get the picking of so tight a lad and thorough-bred a sailor as poor
Blount."
"How long do you propose lying here, Captain Weber?"
"A couple of days will set us all a-tanto again, and give us time to
overhaul the standing and running gear."
"I suppose there is not any danger here?" asked Hughes.
"Danger!--how can there be? Let it blow as hard as it likes, and from
what quarter it chooses, we are protected," replied Weber, thinking only
of the weather.
"I meant from the natives, not from the elements," remarked Hughes.
"I know no more of Madagascar than you do," replied the captain. "It is
the first time my anchor ever had hold of the island."
"Then let me tell you, I do," ejaculated Wyzinski. "The same
circumstance which brought this bay to my knowledge, taught me that the
natives here are treacherous and wily. You will have them round you
before sunset."
"Let them come," replied the sailor; "we have small arms, besides two
guns."
"Do you think we can land with prudence, Wyzinski?"
"I should strongly advise putting the brig in a state to resist if
attacked, and the arms handy if wanted. As for landing, we might pitch
our tent under the trees yonder; but I should deprecate any straggling
away."
"Very well, gentlemen. I hear the boats being lowered; I am going to
carry out an anchor astern, so as to moor the ship safely. The
arm-chest shall be hoisted out, and placed at the foot of the mainmast.
The two guns, and the small arms I will place in your charge, if you
will honour me by serving as a marine, Captain Hughes."
"In which capacity the Light Infantry drill will be useless," remarked
Wyzinski, laughing.
"The boats are alongside, and the men on deck, Captain Weber," said Mr
Lowe, who at that moment appeared at the cabin-door.
"Very well. Get the stream-anchor into the pinnace, and rouse out a few
fathoms of cable," replied the captain.
"Ay, ay, sir," was the mate's reply.
"And, Mr Lowe," called out the captain, "send the arm-chest on deck.
Is there any one who understands an armourer's business?"
"Well, sir, there's Jackson, who was a blacksmith's apprentice before he
ran away and joined the brig at Liverpool."
"He'll do; place him at the disposal of Captain Hughes."
"Ay, ay, sir," again replied the mate as he went up the hatchway.
"And now, gentlemen, I must look after the brig. So soon as I have
moored her head and stern, you can have one of the boats, only I can't
spare you any other hand except Jackson."
There were plenty of muskets to arm the whole crew, but they had need of
much overhauling. The two guns were of respectable size, carrying a
nine-pound ball; and what with the necessary cleaning, the making
cartridge, and swinging the guns with their carnages, one on to the
quarter-deck the other on to the forecastle, the day wore on. The man
Jackson turned out a willing, handy fellow, and, understanding his
business, was of great use. Neither Dom Maxara nor his daughter
appeared on deck.
In the meantime the stream-anchor had been dropped astern, and the cable
hove upon until quite taut; the shears had been got on deck; the
carpenter was busy with his axe. The remains of the fore-topmast had
been removed, for it had broken off short, leaving the head of the
foremast uninjured, and already the spare topmast had been swayed aloft
and pointed through. The men worked cheerfully and well. Not a sign of
life had been seen on shore, and with the exception of the gulls, which
were wheeling and circling round the brig, and the Mother Carey's
chickens which were dipping over the boats now veered astern, all
outside the vessel was perfectly still. The sound of the breaking surf
came with a hollow dull thud at intervals on the breeze, which was
gradually dying out, and nothing could present a greater contrast than
the quiet, peaceful sheet of water, with its fringes of cocoa-palms, and
beach of white shining sand, with the still waters of the bay, to the
noise, bustle, and labour going on all day long on board the brig.
The missionary's fears had not been realised, and night came on quietly
and serenely after a day of toil. The wind had quite died away, and the
stars were shining brilliantly; indeed, so still was the air that the
noise of the river could be heard as it fell into the sea, about the
centre of the bay.
The night was warm and oppressive, and on shore the woods seemed filled
with enormous fireflies, floating here and there. They were in great
quantities, and would settle on the trees, lighting them with myriads of
tiny lights, and making them look like pyramids of sparkling diamonds.
Some would come floating off towards the brig, the little lights dancing
over her decks and settling on her rigging. The scream of the parrots
among the trees had ceased, and save occasionally the quack of the ducks
feeding in the river, all was still. Silence now reigned on the brig's
decks, for the day had been one of toil. The night was hot, and the men
lay thrown about carelessly, wrapped in cloaks, sails, or anything they
could find, among the loose spars. On her forecastle two men alone kept
watch, one of whom was the mate, Mr Lowe. Aft a small awning had been
rigged, and the passengers were enjoying the beautiful tropical night.
Cushions had been brought up from the cabin, the smell of the Portuguese
tobacco floated on the air, and the coffee-cups lay here and there. The
sound of the bell forward, as a seaman rising struck four bells, came
ringing over the waters. Drawing her mantilla over her, and speaking
languidly and slowly, as if the dreamy influence of the tropical night
affected her, Isabel broke the silence, just as the last tone of the
bell quivered over the sea.
"We hear none of the noises of the African plain here; all seems still
and calm."
"There are no lions or noxious animals in the island," replied the
missionary. "Oxen of great size are plentiful, wild asses, and sheep
with enormous tails; goats, and wild boar, too, are numerous. The sloth
exists here, and I have made many a good meal on a species of bat, of
which there are plenty and very good. Hedgehogs, too, and locusts are a
usual dish."
"I pity the Queen of Madagascar if that's her only food," said Hughes,
rolling a cigarette.
"Oh, there is plenty other. If you choose to take a shot-gun to-morrow
you will find pintado, pigeons, parrots, ducks and geese abundant, only
beware of the caiman, for the rivers literally swarm with them. There
are plenty of fowls, and singularly enough one of the objects of
veneration is a white cock. In the mythology of the country there
exists a great giant powerful for evil, called `Denafil,' and all white
cocks are sacred to him."
"You seem to know the country, senhor?" asked the noble.
"I passed nearly twelve months there," replied the missionary.
"And promised to give us a history of your life among the Hovas. What
better time than the present? That cabin is stifling, and I am sure
none of us wish to go below," said Isabel, in her silvery and persuasive
tones, Dom Maxara being engaged with his cigarette, and Hughes in
wishing the starlight was even brighter than it actually was, for the
folds of the mantilla looked dim and indistinct under the feeble light.
The missionary was silent for a few minutes as if recalling his
recollections.
"I cannot say I will fulfil my promise with pleasure, but I will fulfil
it," he replied. "I have already mentioned whence we sailed and how we
reached this bay. The first night we landed we encamped on the banks of
this very river, which is called the `Onglaki,' the vessel that brought
us sailing for Tamatave. We were four missionaries under the guidance
of one of our brethren, who had lately come from England, and who was
named Willis.
"He had been in the island before, and, as we afterwards found, his
object was partly political. The queen, by her terrible cruelties, had
alienated the love of her subjects, and her son, Prince Rakolo, had
allied himself with a Frenchman named Lambert, who had gone to France to
solicit protection and assistance in his efforts to dethrone the queen.
"The Christian religion was once spread throughout the land; but now it
is almost extinct, and the few Europeans left lead a life nearly, if not
quite, as dissolute as the natives. Our chief's object was to divulge
and counteract the policy of the French and of Prince Rakolo; ours was
to establish a mission among the Hovas at Tamanarivo. The country is
rich, abounding with game of many kinds, and free from noxious animals;
we journeyed along good roads towards the capital, sojourning in many
villages, and carrying out our work as best we could. It is a beautiful
country," continued the Missionary; "the low lands produce a tree called
by the Malgache Bavinala, with bunches of long leaves looking like a
lady's fan. This tree is very useful, for of its wood houses, plates,
spoons are made; of its fibres, cloth, and a kind of linen; while its
seeds give oil, and its sap when the tree is tapped produces a pleasant
drink. The sagontin, or sago-tree, abounds on the plains; sandal wood
and ebony are plentiful; but the tree which struck me most was the
ravensara, the nuts and leaves of which perfume the air around, and from
which a delicious scent is distilled. Oxen, fowls, and sheep abound;
rice is cultivated, and the sugar-cane grows wild."
"And the people?" asked Isabel.
"Are steeped in idleness, dissolute, and licentious. Under King
Badama's reign the English had missions in Madagascar; but these
disappeared in 1830, and the country now governed by Queen Banavola is
fast falling into misery and ruin. To cut a long tale short, we arrived
at Tamanarivo, and were received by the queen. Her majesty's taste is
for blood, and it is said that fifteen thousand men perished in building
her palace, and that thousands of people are put to death yearly by her
orders. Our reception was an unfavourable one, and we were as yet in
ignorance of the political nature of our leader's mission.
"The town of Tamanarivo is situated on a height; it has one long
straggling street, where the houses of the richer class are situated.
Here is the queen's palace, surrounded by enormous columns in wood,
brought with great labour from fabulous distances. Five thousand men
were employed in transporting one single pillar, and the greater part of
them died from fever and disease, caught in the low-lying forest land,
where the mighty tree grew. Near the palace is the tomb of King Radama,
whose intelligence was the means by which the Hovas race emerged from
darkness; and near it stands a second palace, richly ornamented with
silver, which sparkles in the sun, and belongs to the queen's heir. On
three sides the mountain is scarped, forming awful precipices; on the
fourth it slopes gently down to the plain, and on these slopes the
little houses of the poorer people are erected, and here we were
assigned a hut.
"Among our number was a missionary named Maurice. Young, ardent and
enthusiastic, he would make no allowance for the prejudices of others,
and seemed to brave death, and even court martyrdom, in his incessant
endeavours to make proselytes. Strict orders had been given by the
queen that we were not to prosecute our religious rites, but Maurice
could not be restrained. Whilst we waited, hoping that the queen's mood
might change, our brother went forth among the people, boldly preaching
the Gospel, and openly defying the queen.
"He planted the cross on the heights of the mountains, he assembled the
people under the forest trees, and there with the sweet odour of the
ravensara floating around, he told them that cheating and lying, though
taught as virtues, were in reality crimes. He told them that the souls
of their chiefs were not migratory, that the crocodiles were not once
men, that the good genius of the world was not Zanhahar, and the evil
one Angetch, and what was a still worse crime, that the ombioche or
priests were only pretended sorcerers.
"He made many converts, but he raised up a host of enemies."
"You speak of him ever in the past," remarked Hughes; "he must have been
a noble fellow. Did he pay the penalty of his zeal?"
"You shall hear," continued the missionary. "One morning our hut was
surrounded with soldiers, our chief, Willis, was seized, and at once
sent under escort to Tamatave. Rice, manioc, and a kind of potato
peculiar to Madagascar, were supplied us, and for nearly a month we
remained close prisoners. Of what was passing around us we knew
nothing, but during this time the `ombioches,' against whose pretensions
Maurice had preached, were employed finding out all those who had
attended his meetings or received him.
"At the end of the thirtieth day we were led forth, as we thought, to
death. In a large, empty piece of ground, near the palace, about twenty
men were huddled. They were quite naked, and many of them cruelly
maimed. These were the Christians, and they were surrounded by
soldiers. We were placed on a height near where we could see what
passed. Armed with sticks and knives, the soldiers were loosed upon the
prisoners. The scene was a heart-rending one. Driven gradually towards
the brink of the precipice, the screams of the terrified victims became
fearful, as goaded on by the sharp knives, and the cruel thongs, one
after another took the fatal leap, and the next moment lay mangled,
shapeless masses on the sharp rocks below."
"Santa Maria, how terrible!" exclaimed Isabel. "I wish we were away
from this horrible but beautiful island; and you, how did you escape?"
"You shall hear. The massacre finished, we thought our turn come; but
no, we were led back to our hut, and the next day the scene was enacted
again, and this continued for eight days, until some five hundred
corpses lay festering on the rocks.
"The mode of punishment was however varied; for the eighth day, some of
the head men were reserved for death, and these men were pinioned and
placed in narrow graves, where boiling water was slowly poured over
them; many were poisoned, and every day the list of the condemned was
read over and approved by the queen.
"The morning of the ninth day came, and we were brought forth, and
conducted before the cabare or council to be judged. We were English,
had come for a purpose; but we had disobeyed the queen's command, and
merited death. Satiated for the time with blood, the queen pardoned us,
ordering us to leave the land. Mischief enough had been done, but it
did not end here, for Maurice could not be kept quiet. Rising, he
addressed the council, and he spoke the language fluently. He pointed
out their errors, he exposed the fallacy of their doctrine; he grew
eloquent and excited, and ended by denouncing the queen, and calling
upon her head the just retribution her crimes merited. He was sentenced
to death. We never saw him more; for that night we were marched towards
the coast. It was the month of January, and that is the hottest month
of the year in Madagascar; the deadly fever of the country ravaged the
plains through which we marched, and I alone of those who pitched their
tents under the trees that line the river yonder survived to tell the
tale. Willis had already sailed for the Mauritius, completely foiled in
his mission."
"And your poor friend, Senhor," asked Isabel; "did you never hear of him
again?"
"Yes, through the agency of Monsieur Lambert, a resident in the island.
There are," continued the missionary, "three modes of death much
practised at Madagascar. The one, by poison extracted from a tree, is
called `tangui.' This tree is so deadly that the birds avoid it, and
the snakes will not go near. The poison consists of a small portion of
the nut in powder. It kills in about an hour, and the agony endured is
fearful. In ordinary cases it is used as an ordeal, and sometimes, when
it induces vomiting, the person taking it gets better.
"The second mode is by throwing the condemned into a river where the
caiman abound. If he is not devoured after the third immersion, he is
allowed to go free.
"The third is by fastening the condemned to a rock bathed by the sea.
If the waves, splashing up against the rocks, do not sprinkle any water
on his body, the condemned is liberated; if a drop of water touches him,
a dozen lances at once finish him."
"The last seems to me the most merciful death, though all are horrible,"
said Isabel.
"After we were violently separated from him, Maurice was kept guarded
for twenty-four hours, without food of any kind, not even a drop of
water being allowed him. His sufferings under that hot sun must have
been terrible, but even then his faith was unshaken, and he made
constant endeavours to convert his guards. His days and nights were
passed in prayer. On the evening of the second day, he was taken to the
ombachie's hut. Here he met with the `sampi tanguine,' or poisoner, and
here life and liberty were offered him by the priest if he would
publicly avow his errors and acknowledge their power. He was but a
young man, and had lately married. He had left a wife, who was at that
moment probably a mother, hoping to rejoin him. The temptation was
strong, as the black poisoner stood before him with the deadly powder
ready."
"And did he yield?" eagerly asked Hughes.
"Not for a moment. Half an hour afterwards he was writhing on the floor
of the hut in agonising convulsions, the ombachie and the `sampi
tanguine' standing over him. He died pardoning his persecutors, and his
body was thrown over the precipice."
"Poor fellow! Madre de Dios, what a melancholy tale! And the poor
wife?" asked Isabel.
"I never heard," replied Wyzinski. "A missionary should not marry, in
my opinion."
"There goes eight bells, and here comes the captain to take his watch,"
exclaimed Hughes.
True to the old instinct, Captain Weber's first impulse was to walk to
the binnacle, and then to glance aloft at his dismantled masts and
rigging.
Isabel seemed struck with the missionary's melancholy tale. She rose
and took the arm of the old seaman, who looked fondly into her face as
she walked by his side. The moon had not risen, but there was a strong
light over the sea, and before saying good night the girl gazed over the
brig's stern at the dark line of forest land and the myriads of dancing
fireflies. She then turned, but seemed struck with something. "I did
not know that there were rocks in the bay," she said, pointing to the
entrance.
Captain Weber did not understand French, but his eye followed the
direction of the girl's finger. There, sure enough, broad on the brig's
starboard bow lay three black points looking like rocks, but rising and
falling on the waves.
Dropping the girl's arm, he ran forward. "Mr Lowe, turn the hands up,
quickly and silently," he said, in a hoarse whisper; "arm the men at
once. Look handy! The Malays are upon us."
Volume 2, Chapter IV.