“We had been more than an hour under the tree, when I heard cries again;
but this time I was not alarmed, for I distinguished the voice of the
disconsolate mother, and I knew that I could comfort her. Her grief
brought her back to the spot where she thought her child had been
devoured; she wished, as she afterwards told us, when we could
understand her, to search for some remains of him,—his hair, his bones,
or even a piece of the bark that bound him; and here he was, full of
life and health. She advanced slowly, sobbing, and her eyes turned to
the ground. She was so absorbed in her search, that she did not see us
when we were but twenty yards from her. Suddenly, Sophia darted like an
arrow to her, took her hand, and said, ‘Come, Minou is here.’
“Canda neither knew what she saw nor what she heard; she took my
daughter for something supernatural, and made no resistance, but
followed her to the fig-tree. Even then she did not recognize the
little creature, released from his bonds, half-clothed, covered with
flowers, and surrounded by three divinities, for she took us for such,
and wished to prostrate herself before us. She was still more convinced
of it when I took up her son, and placed him in her arms: she recognized
him, and the poor little infant held out his arms to her. I can never
express to you the transport of the mother; she screamed, clasped her
child till he was half-suffocated, rapidly repeating words which we
could not understand, wept, laughed, and was in a delirium of delight
that terrified Minou. He began to cry, and held out his arms to Sophia,
who, as well as Matilda, was weeping at the sight. Canda looked at them
with astonishment; she soothed the child, and put him to her breast,
which he rejected at first, but finally seized it, and his mother was
happy. I took the opportunity to try and make her comprehend, that the
great animal had brought him here; that we had found him, and taken care
of him; and I made signs for her to follow me, which she did without
hesitation, till we reached the grotto, when, without entering, she fled
away with her infant with such rapidity, that it was impossible to
overtake her, and was soon out of sight.
“I had some difficulty in consoling my daughters for the loss of Minou;
they thought they should see him no more, and that his mother was very
ungrateful to carry him off, without even letting them take leave of
him. They were still weeping and complaining, when we saw the objects of
our anxiety approaching; but Canda was now accompanied by a man, who was
carrying the child. They entered the grotto, and prostrated themselves
before us. You know Parabéry; his countenance pleased and tranquillized
us. As a relation of the king, he was distinguished by wearing a short
tunic of leaves; his body was tattooed and stained with various colours;
but not his face, which expressed kindness and gratitude, united with
great intelligence. He comprehended most of my signs. I did not succeed
so well in understanding him; but saw he meant kindly. In the mean time
my daughters had a more intelligible conversation with Canda and Minou;
they half-devoured the latter with caresses, fed him with figs and
honey, and amused him so much, that he would scarcely leave them. Canda
was not jealous of this preference, but seemed delighted with it; she,
in her turn, caressed my daughters, admired their glossy hair and fair
skin, and pointed them out to her husband; she repeated Minou after
them, but always added another _Minou_, and appeared to think this name
beautiful. After some words with Parabéry, she placed Minou-Minou in
Sophia’s arms, and they both departed, making signs that they would
return; but we did not see them for some time after. Sophia and Matilda
had their full enjoyment of their favourite; they wished to teach him to
walk and to speak, and they assured me he was making great progress.
They were beginning to hope his parents had left him entirely, when they
came in sight, Parabéry bending under the weight of two bear-skins, and
a beautiful piece of matting to close the entrance to my grotto; Canda
carried a basket on her head filled with fine fruit; the cocoa, the
bread-fruit (which they call _rima_), pine-apples, figs, and, finally,
a piece of bear’s flesh, roasted at the fire, which I did not like; but
I enjoyed the fruits and the milk of the cocoa-nut, of which Minou-Minou
had a good share. They spread the bear-skins in the midst of the grotto;
Parabéry, Canda, and the infant, between them, took possession of one
without ceremony, and motioned to us to make our bed of the other. But
the bears having only been killed the evening before, these skins had an
intolerable smell. I made them comprehend this, and Parabéry immediately
carried them off and placed them in the brook, secured by stones. He
brought us in exchange a heap of moss and leaves, on which we slept
very well.
“From this moment we became one family. Canda remained with us, and
repaid to my daughters all the care and affection they bestowed on
Minou-Minou. There never was a child had more indulgence; but he
deserved it, for his quickness and docility. At the end of a few months
he began to lisp a few words of German, as well as his mother, of whom I
was the teacher, and who made rapid progress. Parabéry was very little
with us, but he undertook to be our purveyor, and furnished us
abundantly with everything necessary for our subsistence. Canda taught
my daughter to make beautiful baskets,—some, of a flat form, served for
our plates and dishes. Parabéry made us knives from sharp stones. My
daughters, in return, taught Canda to sew. At the time of our shipwreck
we had, each of us, in her pocket, a morocco housewife, with a store of
needles and thread. By means of these we had mended our linen, and we
now made dresses of palm-leaves. The bear-skins, washed in the stream,
and thoroughly dried in the burning sun, have been very useful to us in
the cold and rainy season. Now that we had guides, we made, in the fine
season, excursions to different parts of the island. Minou-Minou soon
learned to walk, and being strong, like all these islanders, would
always accompany us. We went one day to the sea-shore. I shuddered at
the sight, and Canda, who knew that my husband and child had perished in
the sea, wept with me. We now spoke each other’s language well enough to
converse. She told me that a _black friend_ (Emily bowed to Mr. Willis)
had arrived in a neighbouring island, to announce to them that there was
a Being, almighty and all-merciful, who lived in Heaven, and heard all
they said. Her comprehension of this truth was very confused, and I
endeavoured to make it more clear and positive.
“‘I see very well,’ said she, ‘that you know him. Is it to Him that you
speak every morning and evening, kneeling as we do before our king
Bara-ourou?’
“‘Yes, Canda,’ said I, ‘it is before Him who is the King of Kings, who
gave us our life, who preserves it, and bestows on us all good, and who
promises us still more when this life is past.’
“‘Was it he who charged you to take care of Minou-Minou, and to restore
him to me?’ asked she.
“‘Yes, Canda; all that you or I do that is good, is put into our hearts
by Him.’
“I thus tried to prepare the simple mind of Canda for the great truths
that Mr. Willis was to teach her.”
“You left me little to do,” said Mr. Willis. “I found Parabéry and
Canda prepared to believe, with sincere faith, the holy religion I came
to teach—the God of the white people was the only one they adored. I
knew Parabéry, he had come to hunt seals in the island where I was
established, and I was struck by his appearance. What was my
astonishment to find, that when I spoke to him of the one true God, he
was no stranger to the subject. He had even some ideas of a Saviour, and
of future rewards and punishments.
“‘It was the white lady,’ said he, ‘who taught me this; she teaches
Canda and Minou-minou, whose life she saved, and whom she is bringing up
to be good like herself.’
“I had a great desire,” continued Mr. Willis, “to become acquainted with
my powerful assistant in the great work of my mission. I told Parabéry
this, who offered to bring me here in his canoe; I came and found, in a
miserable cave, or rather in a bear’s den, all the virtues of mature age
united to the charms of youth; a resigned and pious mother, bringing up
her children, as women should be brought up, in simplicity, forbearance,
and love of industry; teaching them, as the best knowledge, to love God
with all their heart, and their neighbour as themselves. Under the
inspection of their mother, they were educating the son of Parabéry.
This child, then four years and a half old, spoke German well, and knew
his alphabet, which Madame Hirtel traced on the floor of the grotto; in
this way she taught her daughters to read; they taught Minou-minou, who,
in his turn, teaches his parents. Parabéry often brings his friends to
the grotto, and Madame Hirtel, having acquired the language, casts into
their hearts the good seed, which I venture to hope will not be
unfruitful.
“Finding these people in such a good state, and wishing to enjoy the
society of a family, like myself, banished to a remote region, I decided
to take up my abode in this island.
“Parabéry soon built me a hut in the neighbourhood of the grotto; Madame
Hirtel compelled me to take one of her bear-skins. I have by degrees
formed my establishment, dividing with my worthy neighbour the few
useful articles I brought from Europe, and we live a tranquil and
happy life.
“And now comes the time that brought about our meeting. Some of our
islanders, in a fishing expedition, were driven by the wind on your
island. At the entrance of a large bay, they found a small canoe of
bark, carefully moored to a tree. Either their innate propensity for
theft, or the notion that it had no owner, prevailed over them, and they
brought it away. I was informed of this, and was curious to see it; I
recognized at once that it was made by Europeans: the careful finish,
the neat form, the oars, rudder, mast, and triangular sail, all showed
that it had not been made by savages. The seats of the rowers were made
of planks, and were painted, and what further convinced me was, that I
found in it a capital gun, loaded, and a horn of powder in a hole under
one of the seats. I then made particular inquiries about the island from
whence they had brought the canoe; and all their answers confirmed my
idea that it must be inhabited by a European, from whom they had
perhaps taken his only means of leaving it.
“Restless about this fancy, I tried to persuade them to return and
discover if the island was inhabited. I could not prevail on them to
restore the canoe; but, seeing me much agitated, they resolved secretly
to procure me a great pleasure as they thought, by returning to the
island and bringing away any one they could meet with, whether he would
or not. Parabéry, always the leader in perilous enterprises, and who was
so attached to me, would not be left out in one which was to produce me
such pleasure. They set out, and you know the result of their
expedition. I leave it to your wife to tell you how she was brought
away, and pass on to the time of their arrival. My people brought them
to me in triumph, and were vexed that they had only found one woman and
a child, whom I might give to the white lady. This I did promptly. Your
wife was ill and distressed, and I carried her immediately to the
grotto. There she found a companion who welcomed her with joy; Francis
replaced her own lost Alfred, and the two good mothers were soon
intimate friends. But, notwithstanding this solace, your Elizabeth was
inconsolable at the separation from her husband and children, and
terrified at the danger to which you would expose yourself in searching
for her. We were even afraid she would lose her reason, when the king
came to take away Francis. He had seen him on his arrival, and was much
taken with his appearance; he came again to see him, and resolved to
adopt him as his son. You know what passed on this subject; and now you
are once more united to all those who are dear to you.
“Bless God, brother, who knows how to produce good from what we think
evil, and acknowledge the wisdom of his ways. You must return all
together to your island; I am too much interested in the happiness of
Emily to wish to detain her; and if God permits me, when my missions are
completed, I will come to end my days with you, and to bless your
rising colony.”
I suppress all our reflections on this interesting history, and our
gratitude for the termination of our trials, and hasten to the recital,
which, at my particular entreaty, my wife proceeded to give us.
* * * * *