Ho! for PITCAIRN
IN THE meanwhile two families had returned to their old home. The
superior advantages enjoyed in their new home, the greater household
conveniences, the larger educational privileges, the easier access to
and communication with the outside world, all failed to weigh as much
with them as the wish to see once more the place that they loved as
_home_. The families consisted of Moses Young, his wife and five young
children, and Mayhew Young, who had married the widow of Matthew McCoy,
their infant daughter, and six other children by the woman’s first
husband. These made up the first return party, sixteen souls in all,
four males and twelve females. Three daughters of the former Mrs. McCoy
remained on Norfolk Island, the two elder ones with their husbands,
and the youngest to be married. Had the children been consulted in the
matter, every one old enough to think would have chosen to remain, but
the only alternative was to obey and follow their parents.
A much larger party had at first decided to return, and had already
conveyed their goods on board the vessel that was to bear them away,
but the tears and persuasions of the friends from whom they were about
to part were more than they were able to resist, so they did not leave,
as they had at first intended. The parting was sad. One last gathering
in the church where they had worshiped for two years, one last mingling
of their voices together in the parting song, which was falteringly
sung, while sobs choked the utterance and tears dimmed the sight, and
then the final prayer was uttered in tremulous tones and with tender
earnestness by the lips of their faithful pastor, Mr. Nobbs, commending
the departing company to God’s care. Thus was the first separation
effected between the people that for sixty years had been dwelling
together like one family, sharing each other’s joys and sorrows—the
first separation, that held out no hope of ever meeting again. The
schooner _Mary Ann_, which took them away, left on the second day of
December, 1858, and reached her destination on the seventeenth day of
the following month, January, 1859, making a passage of forty-six days.
The few men that first landed from the schooner had been but a short
time on shore when they saw a boat, well manned, approaching the
landing place at Bounty Bay. The boat’s crew, as they soon discovered,
belonged to a French vessel, the _Josephine_.
[Illustration: FAMILY GROUP OF NATIVES.]
Closely following the first boat came another, but, meeting with some
accident at the landing place, the boats soon returned to their ship,
and she sailed away, much to the relief and satisfaction of the two
families who had come to stay, and who were not a little dismayed at
the thought of the stranger being so near to them.
The two families and their belongings were soon safely landed. An
inspection of the deserted village showed unmistakable proofs that
the island had been inhabited by someone for a short time, at least,
subsequent to the removal of the former inhabitants. A keg of salt,
some old crockery gathered from the deserted houses, and sundry other
household articles had been brought together, evidently for the use of
someone in need. Some of the houses had been destroyed by fire, while
others had been broken down. These were all so many evidences that the
island had been lately occupied. The matter, however, was soon cleared
up. A slate was picked up in the schoolroom whereon was written with
some iron instrument the names of some men who had found an asylum on
the island, after having lost their ship on Oeno, a low-lying coral
island, surrounded by reefs, some eighty miles northwest of Pitcairn
Island.
Further particulars were afterwards obtained, first, from an American
sailor who was left on the island by the captain of the whale ship
_Hiawatha_, and later from a copy of the _Friend_, sent to the island
by the people’s faithful friend, the Rev. Samuel C. Damon, of
Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands. In the _Friend_ was the account of the loss
of the _Wildwave_ on Oeno Island. The ship was under command of Captain
J. N. Knowles, who, in the early part of 1858, was on a voyage from San
Francisco to one of the Eastern States, and who, having lost his ship,
came with such of the crew as were willing to Pitcairn Island, where
they stayed until a boat had been constructed of such materials as the
island afforded, to convey them to Tahiti, whence a passage home could
be found.
About twenty-three years afterwards one of the lads who had returned
with the first party, now grown into a middle-aged man, was in San
Francisco. While there he called at the office of Captain Knowles, and
heard from that gentleman’s own lips the following interesting account
of their enforced detention on Pitcairn Island:—
The _Wildwave_ was outward bound from San Francisco, when she became a
wreck on the reefs of Oeno Island. Besides the captain, officers, and
crew, there were ten passengers, numbering in all about thirty-seven
persons, all of whom landed safely on the island. The remains of
a brother of Captain Knowles, which were being carried home for
interment, were also taken on shore and buried. The headstone that
accompanied the body was also set to mark the last resting place of the
dead. When everything that could contribute to their comfort had been
landed, the shipwrecked men proceeded at once to make the best of the
circumstances. Abundant food supplies had been brought ashore from
the ship, and if that should fail before help could come, the large
numbers of birds, as well as of fish, were sufficient to keep them from
starvation.
But the captain felt that some immediate action must be taken, and so,
as speedily as possible, a boat was made ready and provisioned, and
himself, Mr. Bartlett, the first mate, the carpenter, and four seamen
bade good-by to the thirty men left on Oeno, and came on to Pitcairn
Island, to obtain if possible help for themselves and their companions.
The captain, by a wise forethought, had, before leaving, taken the
second mate and others to mark the spot where three or four birds were
sitting on their eggs. These birds were then secured and taken along
with the party in the boat, to be their news carriers in the event of
their reaching their destined place in safety. This they did. They
landed on the west side of the island, and the boat was drawn up only a
few yards from the water’s edge, as it was the captain’s intention to
return as soon as possible to Oeno. This plan, however, was frustrated
by an unlooked-for calamity.
The captain’s and mate’s first care after dragging the boat to the
place where it was to be left, was to take out from it all their
nautical instruments, and then, taking the birds in their hands, they
started on their way up the high hill leading to the village. Strips
of leather had been prepared on which to send the message of their
safe arrival to their companions on Oeno. These missives having been
securely fastened to the birds, they were let go, and the party
stood somewhat anxiously watching them take their flight. At first
the unusual encumbrance seemed likely to impede their progress, and
the watchers saw them “turn round and round as if stunned a little,”
but they soon regained their wonted manner, and the men had the
satisfaction of seeing the birds take their way in the direct line
whence they had come. In time the men on Oeno had the pleasure of
learning of the safety of the little band who had gone to Pitcairn, but
the hope of soon seeing them again was not realized, and many months of
weary watching passed ere further word reached them.
Meanwhile, the seven men, after seeing to the safe flight of the birds,
proceeded on their way. Arriving at the top of the hill, they looked
down on the little village of thatched cottages nestling among orange
trees. These trees, even at that distance, were seen to be loaded with
golden fruit. The sight was a very pleasant one to the shipwrecked
men, but no rising smoke gave evidence that the place was inhabited.
A few minutes’ quick walking brought them down to the silent houses,
where not a human being was seen. For a day or two they remained in the
deserted village, intending soon to return to their companions on Oeno;
but the mate, having occasion to go over to the west side, found to his
dismay that the boat, which had been left too near the water, had been
not only reached by the heavy surf that had arisen in their absence,
but was broken beyond repair.
This unlooked-for disaster was the cause of grave anxiety, and all that
could be done was to go to work and construct another boat. This was
a very difficult matter, as materials and tools were scant and poor.
To obtain nails some of the houses were broken down, and others were
burned. Trees were cut down, and as the men had no saws, the ax was
made to do duty for both saw and ax, thus occasioning great loss of
time and material. But in spite of the many drawbacks, the work went
steadily and bravely on.
At length the boat was finished. The sail of the broken boat, and such
odds and ends as could be found in the houses, made up the rigging
of the little craft, which was named the _John Adams_. The trappings
of the old pulpit in the church supplied the red, and a bit of blue
calico taken from off an old bedstead served for the ground, on which
were arranged the white stars of the American flag; and so, with the
stars and stripes to float from the mast of their small vessel, it was
launched, after months of weary, anxious work and waiting, rendered
doubly anxious by the knowledge that the loved ones at home were pining
in suspense and uncertainty regarding their fate.
Two of the men, afraid of venturing in the boat they had helped to
build, stayed behind until help from a more reliable source could
come to them. Owing to adverse winds, Captain Knowles did not return
to Oeno, as he had at first intended, but steered for Tahiti instead,
making a brief call at the island of Nukahiva on the way. At Tahiti
they found the U. S. sloop-of-war _Vandalia_. The story of the
shipwreck and subsequent facts was soon told, and the _Vandalia_ went
at once to the rescue. Mr. Bartlett, the mate of the _Wildwave_, also
went with the rescuing party, who in due time reached Oeno, where they
found all the thirty men alive and well. These having been received on
board, the _Vandalia_ went to Pitcairn Island, where the other two men
of the crew were, both of whom were enjoying excellent health, but glad
to leave the place that was so lonely and isolated.
After Captain Knowles had reached Tahiti, he did not delay to take the
first opportunity to go home, as he was extremely anxious about his
wife, an anxiety which was only too well founded, for the poor lady had
died of hopeless grief and suspense concerning the fate of her husband.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]