A blazing, tropic sun shone in mid-heaven upon the motionless waters of
the deep, land-locked bay in which the Ceres lay, with top-mast struck
and awnings spread fore and aft. A quarter of a mile away was the beach,
girdled with its thick belt of coco-palms whose fronds hung limp and hot
in the windless air as if gasping for breath. Here and there, among
the long line of white, lime-washed canoes, drawn up on the sand,
snowy white and blue cranes stalked to and fro seeking for the small
thin-shelled soldier crabs burrowing under the loose _débris_ of leaves
and fallen palm-branches to escape the heat.
A few yards back from the level of high-water mark clustered the houses
of the native village, built on both sides of the bright, fast-flowing
stream which here, as it debouched into the sea, was wide and shallow,
showing a bottom composed of rounded black stones alternating with rocky
bars. Along the grassless banks, worn smooth by the constant tread of
naked feet, grew tall many-hued crotons, planted and carefully tended
by their native owners, and shielded from the rays of the sun by the
ever-present coco-palms. From either side of the bank, looking westward
towards the forest, there was a clear stretch of water half a mile in
length, then the river was hidden from view, for in its course from the
mountains through the heavily-jungled littoral it took many bends and
twists, sometimes running swiftly over rocky, gravelly beds, sometimes
flowing noiselessly through deep, muddy-bottomed pools and dank, steamy
swamps, the haunt of the silent, dreaded alligator.
At the head of the straight stretch of water of which I have spoken
there was on the left-hand bank of the river an open grassy sward,
surrounded by clumps of areca and coco-palms, and in the centre stood
a large house, built by native hands, but showing by various external
signs that it was tenanted by people other than the wild inhabitants of
the island. Just in front of the house, and surrounded by a number of
canoes, the boat belonging to the _Ceres_ was moored to the bank,
and under a long open-sided, palm-thatched shed, were a number of
brown-skinned naked savages, some lying sleeping, others squatting on
their hams, energetically chewing betel nut.
As they talked and chewed and spat out the scarlet juice through their
hideous red lips and coaly black teeth, a canoe, paddled by two natives
and steered by Mallet, the mate of the _Ceres_, came up the river. The
instant it was seen a chorus of yells arose from the natives in the long
hut, and Mary Corwell came to the open doorway of the house and looked
out.
“Wake up, wake up, Jack!” she cried, turning her face inwards over her
graceful shoulder, “here is Mallet.”
Her voice awoke her husband, who in an instant sprang from his couch and
joined her, just as Mallet--a short, square-built man of fifty--stepped
out of the canoe and walked briskly towards them, wiping his broad,
honest face with a blue cotton handkerchief.
“Come inside, Mallet. 'Tis a bit cooler in here. I'm sorry I sent you
down to the ship on such a day as this.”
Mallet laughed good-naturedly. “I didn't mind it, sir, though 'tis a
powerful hot day, and the natives are all lying asleep in their huts;
they can't understand why us works as we do in the sun. Lord, sir! How
I should like to see old Kingsdown and Walmer Castle to-day, all a-white
with snow. I was born at Deal.”
Mary Cornell brought the old seaman a young coconut to drink, and her
husband added a little rum; Mallet tossed it off and then sat down.
“Well, sir, the ship is all right, and those chaps aboard seem content
enough. But I'm afeared that the worms are a-getting into her although
she is moored right abreast of the river. So I took it on me to tell
Totten and Harris to stay aboard whilst I came back to ask you if it
wouldn't be best for us to bring her right in to the fresh water, and
moor her here, right abreast o' the house. That'll kill any worms as
has got into her timbers. And we can tow her in the day after to-morrow,
when there will be a big tide.”
“You did quite right, Mallet. Very likely the worms have got into her
timbers in spite of her being abreast of the river's mouth. I should
have thought of this before.”
“Ah, Jack,” said his wife, with a smile, “we have thought too much of
our gold-getting and too little of the poor old _Ceres_.”
“Well, I shall think more of her now, Mary. And as the rains will be
on us in a few days--so the natives say--and we can do no more work for
three months, I think it will be as well for us to sail the _Ceres_ over
to that chain of lagoon islands about thirty miles from here. I fear to
remain here during the wet season, on account of the fever.”
After further discussion it was decided that Jack and Mallet, with some
natives, should make an early start in the morning for their mining
camp, six miles away, at the foot of the range, and do a long, last
day's work, returning to the house on the following day. Meanwhile a
message was to be sent to Harris and Totten to bring the vessel into the
creek as soon as the tide served, which would be in forty-eight hours.
Then, whilst she lay for a week in the fresh water, so as to kill the
suspected _teredo navalis_ worms, which Mallet feared had attacked her,
she was to be made ready for the short voyage of thirty miles over to a
cluster of islands enclosing a spacious lagoon, where Corwell intended
to beach her till the rainy season was over, when he would return to
work a very promising stream in another locality. Already he and his
men, aided by the natives, had, in the four months that had passed since
they arrived, won nearly five hundred ounces of gold, crude as were
their appliances.
“Jack,” said his wife, “I think that, as you will be away all day and
night, to-morrow I shall go on board and see what I can do. I'll make
the men turn to and give the cabin a thorough overhauling. Marawa, the
chiefs wife, has given me a lot of sleeping-mats, and I shall throw
those old horrible flock mattresses overboard, and we shall have nice
clean mats instead to lie on.”
* * * * *
At daylight Mallet aroused the natives who were to accompany him and the
captain, and then told off two of them to make the boat ready for Mrs.
Corwell. Then he returned to the house and called out--
“The boat is ready, sir.”
“So am I, Mallet,” replied Mary, tying on her old-fashioned sun-hood.
Then she turned to her husband. “Jack, darling, this will be the very
first time in our married life that I have ever slept away from you, and
it shall be the last, too. But I _do_ want to surprise you when you see
our cabin again.”
She put her lips up to him and kissed him half a dozen times. “There,
that's a good-night and good morning three times over. Now I'm ready.”
Corwell and Mallet walked down to the boat with her and saw her get in.
She kissed her hand to them and in a few minutes was out of sight.