In us was exemplified the old adage, "that man is but the creature of
circumstances." Who could have foretold that in two short weeks we
should think so differently, and yet in that fortnight of dark anxiety,
undefined dread and forebodings, more distressing than reality itself,
we had seemed to live years of misery. The bodily sufferings we had
endured from the heat and burning fever of the scorching sun seemed as
nothing in comparison with the horrors we afterwards underwent, and it
was almost impossible to imagine that we had ever deprecated the bright
beams or complained of the genial warmth now so grateful to our
feelings.
What happiness it was to hear the joyous voices of the young ones, as
each, in their different manner, expressed their delight at the
beautiful change. The gentle Zoe clasped her hands with excited joy;
Felix flew into his dear Smart's arms, exclaiming "that the sun was
shining most stunningly;" Oscar came softly behind me, and with one arm
round my neck, whispered "Dear mama, surely we are saved now;" Lilly and
Winny ran from one end of the vessel to the other, singing, in clear
ringing voices, the morning hymn; while each and all gazed on the
surrounding scene with happiness and delight, worn out as we were with
aching arms, blistered hands, and utter weariness, we could not be
insensible to the beauty of the little island we were now approaching.
It was seemingly so long since we had seen land that even if it had been
a barren rock, we should have hailed it with delight. Yet, with all our
love for La Luna, with all our experience of her goodness, beauty,
strength, and worth, not a heart beat on board of her, I fear, that did
not pant to be on shore. It seemed as if this little island had risen
out of the sea for the sole purpose of affording us the rest and peace
our shattered condition and worn-out frames demanded. And yet it was
curious and half alarming to see this little spot of earth rising so
lonely and yet so beautiful in the middle of the sea: like an emerald
gem on the vast extent of water it lay calm and alone, no other land in
sight, no other object to divide our attention with it. The nearer we
approached, the more we became absorbed in our inspection. It grew
larger, it appeared higher, we distinguished cliffs or rocks, we noticed
ravines, and beheld small bays. The roaring of the breakers was
distinctly heard, and the rolling billows, collecting foam as they
advanced, seemed to spend their force against the reef of rocks, while
they lightly and gently swept on towards the little island, breaking so
softly on the sanded shore that they seemed to regard it as a favoured
child, whose solitary condition demanded protection and indulgence.
Slowly and heavily the laden ship advanced; suddenly we seemed, as it
were, to pass a corner of the island, and came upon a view so lovely in
its quiet beauty, so unexpected in its richness and colour, so
delightful in its homelike appearance, that one cry of admiration burst
from all. How exquisite! How lovely! What rocks! What trees! Look, look,
a gushing stream, a lovely waterfall! I see birds, bright birds, and
beauteous flowers, I am sure! What colours! What a lovely bay! What blue
water! What golden sands! Was ever such a scene beheld before by mortal
eyes! Such and many more were the exclamations heard on all sides. There
hung, in vast variety, gigantic trees, stretching their huge limbs in
every direction on the face of the cliff, as if clinging for support.
Every here and there verdant spots appeared, like mossy resting places
for the weary climber, from whence hung creeping plants, wonderful to us
for their size and beauty. In the right side of the bay, the cliffs
seemed suddenly rent asunder, and through the opening gleamed a silvery
thread, which, advancing to the edge, fell in a rich stream of water
from rock to rock, dispersing into a thousand sparkling dancing rills,
sometimes lost, then again bursting forth, now shadowed by a huge old
tree, then deepening into a quiet smiling pool, until at last tossed,
tumbled, and thrown from a descent of a hundred feet, it reunited its
troubled waters on the sand, and flowed in tranquil beauty to the sea.
The cliffs shelved up higher almost immediately beyond the waterfall,
and rounding abruptly on either side towards the sea, they formed a bay
or harbour, scarcely half a mile from point to point, though it must
have been some miles round it. High on the right hand, which in fact was
the sort of corner we had passed, rose abruptly from the sea a gigantic
rock separated from the mainland; it had an archway, apparently hollowed
by the sea, quite through it, and was curiously picturesque and strange
to view. On the left, the bay was also sheltered by rocks, filled with
caves and hollow places, but none separated from the mainland. Our
captain had been occupied taking soundings ever since we had neared the
land, and amidst all our exclamations arose regularly the man's deep
voice, proclaiming the depth of the line, with a melodious cadence
peculiar to the cry.