perhaps my turn would come some day; meanwhile we had as yet discovered
no way of moving the canoe, unless we tried Billy's plan of laying a
kind of roadway of poles from the cliff to the sea, and we supposed we
should have to do that, arduous as the work would be. We left it for
that day, and for the next, too, being loath to begin a task we did not
like; and then we saw another way of achieving our purpose, which I
wonder we had not thought of before. We had rigged up over the hole in
the floor leading to the cavern a sort of windlass, by means of which
we lowered provisions into our store-room, and it was when we were
letting down a basketful of yams that the idea came into my head.
Could we by any means devise a windlass which would give us a
sufficient purchase to haul the canoe to the sea?
"'Course not," said Billy, when I put it to him. I never knew Billy's
like for the seeing of difficulties. "Nothing but oaks would be strong
enough."
[Sidenote: Launching the Canoe]
But I was by no means satisfied that the plan was impossible, and I
went down to the shore at low tide to look about me. I ought to say
that the windlass in the house was a very simple machine. We had stuck
two young stout saplings into the ground, one on each side of the hole,
having shortened their stems so that the fork where the lowest branches
were stood about three feet above the earth. Across these forks we
laid a short round pole for the drum of the winch, at one end of this
we lashed two slighter poles for the handle, and about the drum we
wound and unwound the rope by which we lowered things. Now it was
quite certain that we could not move our heavy canoe unless we had a
contrivance very much stronger than this, and the difficulty was that a
windlass for this purpose must be erected on the sand, and below
low-water mark, or it would not bring the canoe to the water. There
were certainly no trees of any kind growing in the sand, so that it
seemed that any contrivance of the kind must be made there by our own
hands.
But as I was walking along the beach, endeavouring to see my way
through this difficulty, I observed a rock, not above three feet high,
which had a deep jagged groove across the top of it, resembling in some
degree the fork of a tree. I looked about for a companion rock near at
hand, but all that I saw were flatter and much smaller, not one having
any groove to match the other. But why should we not rig up, I
thought, something that should serve as well? After a great deal of
consideration I hit upon a plan, which Billy and I proceeded at next
low tide to carry out. We got two stout poles, and drove them into the
sand with the pummet, one across the other, so that the tops of them
made a big letter V, the point of which was at the same height as the
groove in the rock. We next laid a stout pole across from the V to the
groove, smearing it at the resting-places very plentifully with fat, so
that it would turn easily: this made a drum. Then we plaited a thick
and long rope, and wound one end about the drum and knotted the other
end to the nose of the canoe through a hole we made with our axes.
Last of all, we fastened a handle to the drum in the same way as we had
done with the small windlass in the hut.
When this rough piece of machinery was ready we began to turn the
handle, both of us heaving at it, because the canoe was so heavy that
it needed all our strength. At first, indeed, we could scarcely move
it, and feared that all was again for nought; but when we had greased
the drum again with pork fat where it fitted into the supports, we
managed to turn it a very little way, and that giving encouragement, we
persevered, and had the joy of seeing the canoe coming inch by inch,
with much creaking and groaning of our machine, nearer to the water.
If the canoe had had a keel, I doubt whether we could have moved it,
for it would almost certainly have ploughed into the sand and stuck;
but being rounded and not pointed, it slid down, though slowly and with
many checks. And so, having drawn it down to a spot where the depth of
water when the tide came in would be sufficient to float it, we let
forth a shout of delight and went home to dinner with cheerful minds
and keen appetites, I do assure you.
We had left our mooring-rope attaching the canoe to the rock, so that
it should not float away while we were at dinner; and when we had
finished the meal we went down to the shore again, very impatient to
try the vessel's buoyancy. The tide was not yet come near high enough
to float it, and we waited for a good while, watching the ripples
crawling up over the sand, every moment a little higher. At last the
water was washing around the canoe; then it floated, and no sooner did
it float than Billy pushed it out with a great shove into deeper water
and leaped aboard, and I laughed heartily at what ensued, for he turned
a somerset and went souse into the sea, and the canoe filled and sank.
Billy came up spluttering, and the first words he said were, "What's
the good of the silly thing!" And, indeed, I saw that maybe the matter
was not one for amusement, for if the vessel toppled over, or turned
turtle, as they say at sea, whenever we tried to board her, we should
have had all our labour in vain. However, we could but wait until the
tide fell again, when she would be left high and dry, and meanwhile we
went back to the house, as well to dry Billy's clothes (what there was
now left of them) as to consider how we might improve the stability of
the vessel on which we set such store.
[Sidenote: The Outrigger]
I remembered that when we were on the island where we sojourned for a
time (how long ago it seemed!) we had seen some strangely-shaped canoes
which very much moved my curiosity. There were cross-pieces of wood
let into the side of the canoe, and bent over, being fastened at the
lower extremity to a pole or plank which floated on the water. This
odd contrivance I had heard the seamen call an outrigger, and the
purpose of it was to keep the vessel on an even keel, as one may say,
though having no keel it would be better to say plainly, to keep it
steady. I was now much more alive to the benefit of this contrivance
than when I had merely seen it as a spectator; things do take on very
different aspects according as we are personally interested or not; and
we immediately set to work to fashion an outrigger for our vessel,
which took us two or three full working days to make, and another day
to adjust. When it was done, we floated the canoe once more, and got
into her, and felt exceeding pleased with ourselves for the space of
perhaps a minute, and then our complacency received a wound, for by
some shifting of our position the balance of the vessel was altered,
the outrigger rose up and made best part of a circle in the air, and
Billy and I were cast into the water. It was plain that the outrigger
was too light, and we made another one, using this time the heavy wood
of the cocoa-nut palm, which being very hard, too, gave us a deal of
trouble to fashion to the right shape; but we managed it at last, and
when we fixed this new outrigger to the canoe, we found that we could
sway from side to side without any danger of capsizing. Billy was
greatly uplifted at this, and wanted to set off there and then on a
voyage; he even said that perhaps we might rig up a sail and voyage to
England; but I told him that we had not yet proved the vessel, and did
not even know whether she would ride through a sea of any roughness;
and as for England, it was impossible to think that we could ever cross
the immense ocean in so clumsy a craft, though the mention of it set me
a-longing, and I felt more miserable than I had done for many a day.
We had not yet made any paddles for propelling our canoe; Billy very
sensibly saying that 'twas no good wasting time on them until we had
proved whether our vessel would float. However, now that we were
assured of this, we made some paddles, finding it a pretty hard job,
for we had no means of splitting planks from the trees, and we had to
content ourselves with short poles, with blades made in the following
manner. To one end of the pole we lashed a thin flexible rod, bent to
the shape of a circle, and we made a kind of basket-work on this by
crossing and re-crossing with threads of cocoa-nut fibre, which we drew
as tight as we could. When we had coloured it red with the sap of the
redwood tree of which I have spoken before, we had a very serviceable
paddle, and not ill-looking either. We paddled about in shallow water
near the sandy beach, not venturing to go further out as yet, from fear
of capsizing where we might be snapped up by a shark. Our vessel
behaved very well, though with no grace of movement, to be sure, and we
found after a little practice that we could sit on the crosspieces of
the outrigger, which joined the sides of the canoe, and work our
paddles very well.
I asked Billy what we should call our vessel.
"Blackamoor, that's what I say," said he.
"But she's only black inside," said I; "her outside is fair enough; and
now I come to think of it, we can paint her and make her look better
still."
[Sidenote: Naming the Vessel]
Accordingly we did this, expressing oil from the candle-nuts of which I
have spoken, and mixing this with sap from the red-wood tree. We made
a paintbrush of thin spines, and with this we painted the sides of the
vessel, which took us above a fortnight, I should think, for it was
wonderful what a prodigious quantity of paint we used, and what a
prodigious number of nuts we pressed before we got enough oil for our
purpose. When the painting was finished, Billy said that we ought to
call the vessel _Painted Sally_, or some such name; but I thought she
deserved a more respectful appellation, and suggested _Esperanza_, a
name which I had come upon somewhere in my reading, and which I thought
had a pleasant sound. However, Billy would not hear of it.
"It's French, that I warrant you," he said, "and I can't abide 'em.
Besides, what's it mean? I suppose it means some rubbish or other."
"Well, I think it means 'hope'," I said, "and I think it a much
prettier word."
"I don't," says Billy bluntly; "it's too soft like."
"And therefore it suits our vessel," I said, "for you know, Billy,
ships are always given ladies' names."
"Yes, and the _Lovey Susan_," says he, "she went to the bottom, and
_her_ name was soft enough, and I don't believe any boat with the name
_Esperanza_ would ever have the strength to ride through a storm. I
likes a plain straightforward name, I do, like my own; you won't find
any man," says he, "with a better name than Billy Bobbin."
"Well, shall we call her Billy?" I asked.
Billy looked very serious at this, and after considering for a minute
he said he wasn't going to be called a "her" or a "she" for anybody,
not even on a boat, and then added, "Call her plain _Hope_ and settle
it, master, and never mind about your _Esperanzas_."
"Fair Hope would suit a lady better than Plain Hope," I said very
gravely, and Billy, who was quite unconscious of the verbal point
('twas a very small one, I own), agreed that _Fair Hope_ wasn't bad;
and so we got some powdered charcoal and mixed it with oil, and printed
the name in black letters on the larboard bow, as Billy called it, and
having done this, we thought we might now venture to make a short
expedition up the coast.
[Sidenote: We go Sailing]
It was a fair bright morning when we set out on this our first voyage,
and we were very much excited, as you may imagine. We had been by my
reckoning, which was pure guess-work, above two years on the island,
and though we had become pretty reconciled to it, regarding it indeed
as our home for the rest of our lives, there were times when our lot
seemed to be that of prisoners, and the prospect of getting beyond our
bounds, though ever so short a distance and for ever so short a time,
seemed like the loosening of fetters and the removing of prison bars.
This made me think what a blessed thing is liberty, and when I
remembered unfortunate people whom I had read about as falling into
captivity I compared our lot with theirs, and saw how much we had to be
thankful for.
However, to return to our voyage. We had been taught a certain caution
by sundry incidents that had already happened in our life on the
island, so we put some food and two or three pots of fresh water in the
bottom of the vessel, and our spears, axes, and bows and arrows as
well. While Billy carried these things down to the vessel, I went up
to our watch-tower, to see whether any canoes were in sight, for we
should have been very sorry if we had run among a fleet of savage
vessels. However, there was not a speck to be seen, only the low dusky
line on the western horizon that we believed to be the coast of some
island. Accordingly we set off in perfect ease of mind, and paddled
slowly along, keeping close to the shore, and following its
indentations as well as the rocks and shoals would permit us.
The seaward aspect of the familiar parts of the island was very
interesting to us, and we amused ourselves with guessing what places in
the interior were opposite to us when the cliffs hid them from sight.
For some distance we passed beneath low cliffs; then the shore took a
great curve inward, making the bay we had called by Billy's name; the
head of this bay we judged to be the point of the shore nearest to our
hut, which was not itself visible from any part of the sea, lying as it
did in a hollow. We paddled out to the nearest of the big rocks that
stood like sentinels guarding this side of the island, and found a
great quantity of clams upon it, some of which Billy insisted on taking
into the boat, to see if they tasted any different from those we found
on our own shore, and in reaching over he pretty nearly upset the
vessel. From thence we went on to the second rock, some little
distance out to sea, and Billy wanted to get out and climb the rock,
which stood almost perpendicular, but with jagged sides, so that
climbing was possible; but the base of it was so thickly covered with
slimy seaweed that it would have been difficult to maintain a footing,
so I persuaded Billy to forego the enterprise. Leaving this rock, we
continued on our course, and came by and by to the rocky spar that was
what may be called the land's end of this part of the island. Here the
cliffs were very steep, indeed, almost perpendicular, as we had
discovered before when we had tried to walk round the coast, and found
our way blocked. When we had turned the corner, we found another
little bay, but no beach, except a very small strip of sand at the foot
of the cliffs. We saw a great quantity of driftwood on this beach, and
when we paddled up to it, a huge eel darted away from beneath a
water-sodden log, on which Billy made a great lamentation because we
had not brought our fishing lines and hooks. Among the driftwood we
saw two or three very old planks, worm-eaten and covered with moss, and
we wondered whether they were planks of the boat of the _Lovey Susan_,
which we might have had now if we had been more thoughtful. We took
them on board, not that they would be of any use to us, but that we
might keep them as mementoes.
[Sidenote: The Cave]
Paddling out of this bay, we were coasting along by more high cliffs
when we came all of a sudden to an immense opening, which appeared to
run a great way into the shore, though we could not tell how far, for
its depths were very black.
"A cave, master!" cried Billy, full of excitement, and I was excited
too, there being I know not what of mystery and fascination about a
cave. "Let us go in," says he.
You may think it strange, but I felt a great reluctance to paddle into
that gloomy place; my imagination, more active than Billy's, saw it
peopled by sea-urchins and hobgoblins, and I could fancy I already
heard strange noises, the fruit, I suppose, of my reading that
wonderful play of Shakespeare, _The Tempest_. However, I could not
show the white feather before Billy, so we paddled into the entrance,
finding a considerable depth of water there, and so for twenty or
thirty yards, there being more light in the cave than we had thought
when outside, because it was lofty, and the water threw up reflections.
But when we had come some twenty yards into it, it made a sudden bend
to the right, and at the same place became very much darker, so that
though we peered in we could see but a few yards in front of us. We
stayed for a little, looking about us, and seeing nothing but what
appeared to be considerable patches of seaweed floating on the water;
nor did we hear any noises, but all was as still as death, so that even
Billy was oppressed by the silence, and even more by the hollow echo
when he spoke.
"I don't much like the look of this place, master," he said.
I did not tell him that my feeling was the same, but affected to laugh
at him, though at the same time I dipped my paddle to bring the vessel
round with her head pointing to the opening. As I did so, I observed a
sort of heaving and undulating movement in one of the patches of
seaweed, and marvelled at it, for there was no current on the surface,
and the vessel was perfectly steady. But supposing there must be an
under-current of some kind, I paid no more heed to it, but continued to
paddle, and we soon brought the vessel out of the cave and among a
little labyrinth of rocks, partly above the surface and partly
submerged. We had but just got there, however, when we found our
vessel begin to lose way and our paddles to stick in the seaweed, as we
supposed, which was now very thick on the surface, and which was the
greater impediment to us because of the outrigger. We strove as hard
as we could to force the vessel through, but it was like tugging at a
rebellious slip-knot; the harder you tug the more you tie yourself up.
We were thinking of backing the vessel, so as to go round about the
obstacle, when all of a sudden, as I took notice of how the tendrils of
the seaweed were clinging about the outrigger and curling up towards
the side of the canoe, I was seized with the horrid suspicion that we
had not to deal with seaweed at all, but with a monster, or maybe
several, like to that terrible creature which had almost dragged me
down when we were searching for eggs, as I have related. This thought
made me shudder with a sickening apprehension, especially when the
notion struck me, as it did at that moment, that this cavern could not
be very far from the steep and rugged cliff by which we had descended.
Even before I could whisper my dread thought to Billy, some of the
tentacles, as I had now no doubt they were, were creeping over the
side, and one of them touched my leg and immediately held fast. For an
instant I was perfectly overcome with horror, as I was on the cliff,
and, as it were, paralyzed in my will; but then, making a great effort,
I jerked myself free, at the same time calling aloud to Billy and
chopping with my axe, which I had seized, at the tentacles that held
the canoe in their grip and had altogether stopped its motion.
[Sidenote: A Shoal of Monsters]
"The monster, is it?" cries Billy, who hated the thing with the same
aversion as I did, but seemed to be quite exempt from its fascination.
"I'll monster him," says he, and he dropped his paddle and took up his
axe and began hacking away with all his might at the horrid feelers
that were crawling over the vessel. There were the two of us, then,
slashing and chopping with desperate energy, running, or rather
creeping as quickly as we could, from end to end of the canoe whenever
a tentacle showed itself above the gunwale, with the result that the
grip of the creature (or creatures, for we knew not whether we had to
do with one or many)--the grip of it, I say, relaxed, and we thought we
could leave our axes and take to the paddles again. But we had not
gone above two yards when the vessel was brought up again, and this
time the paddles themselves were seized, and though I struggled with
all my strength, my paddle was drawn out of my hands and I saw it no
more. Billy was more lucky, and kept his, but he had to drop it into
the bottom and take to his axe again, as I did to mine, and so we fell
to it again, slashing and chopping at these hideous tentacles that came
up over the side, parts of them falling into the bottom of the vessel
as we severed them and writhing there. Once more we beat off the enemy
thus, and then I seized Billy's paddle in feverish haste, and plied it
with all my might, Billy doing what he could also with two spears held
together. And this time we got clear of the rocky labyrinth, to my
unutterable relief, though with some scraping of the outrigger, for you
may be sure we were in so great a hurry to get away that we could not
stop for nice steering; and we kept on paddling hard for some minutes
after we were a fair distance along the shore, and, indeed, did not
cease until we found ourselves in the channel between the island and
the red rock, and then we had another alarm, but of a different kind,
for our vessel was caught in the mighty current which rushed through
the narrow passage, and was swept on as if it had been a cork, we
gripping the thwarts and fearing every moment that we should either be
dashed against the rocks on one side or the other, or be totally
submerged in the boiling torrent. However, we came out at the further
end safe, though very wet and terrified, and were carried on, though
not so violently, past the place where the cascade fell from the
mountain, and so on towards the long spit of land that had the natural
archway at its end.
[Sidenote: The End of the Voyage]
We still had cause for alarm, for as yet we had no mastery of the
vessel, and feared we should be carried by the current right out to
sea. But by dint of great efforts, Billy with the paddle, which he had
taken from me, being the more muscular, and I with the spears, we
managed to take the vessel across the current and towards the land on
our right hand, and by and by got into pretty calm water near the
archway. Here, in the steep wall of the cliff, we saw a small cove,
where we might have beached the canoe; but after what we had come
through we had little disposition to linger, and so we paddled through
the archway and turned the corner, and went along by the lava beach
until we came at length to the sandy beach whence we had started. We
were fairly worn out, I assure you, as well with our frights and
terrors as with our exertions, and besides, we had eaten nothing since
the morning, though we had provisions with us, having had too much to
think about otherwise. Never did mariners land with more thankfulness
than we did. When we had tied up our vessel we went to our house and
built a roaring fire, to cheer our spirits as well as to dry our
clothes; and when we had eaten a comforting meal and fell a-talking, we
spoke of our satisfaction in the seaworthiness of the Fair Hope, and
also in having circumnavigated the island.
"I'd like to kill that monster," says Billy, as we talked about that
part of our adventure; "and I will, too, if he'll come out of that cave
where we can see him proper."
"I think we had better leave him in possession undisturbed," I said,
with the horror of the creature still upon me. "Perhaps there is a
shoal of the monsters there; the rocks we saw would make a very good
home for them. And I don't think we'll go that way again, Billy; I
seem to see those dreadful tentacles crawling all about me, and the
leathery feel of them when I chopped makes me shudder still."
"Cheer up, master," says Billy. "After all, we did 'em more damage
than they did us, and taught 'em a lesson, I warrant you."
CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH
OF OUR VOYAGE TO A NEIGHBOURING ISLAND, AND OF OUR INHOSPITABLE
RECEPTION BY THE SAVAGES
We did not take another voyage for some days, for my dreams were
haunted by visions of the monster, and I felt a shuddering reluctance
even to look at the canoe, upon which I seemed to see tentacles
writhing. And when we did again embark, it was only to paddle out to
the fishing-ground I have mentioned, though by and by, when the
recollection of the monster had become somewhat dimmed, we cruised
about the coast sometimes for the mere pleasure and exercise of it, and
to make ourselves more expert in the management of our vessel. After a
time the notion came to us of rigging up a mast and sail, and trying
what we could do in real navigation. We had some difficulty in
stepping the mast, which was a straight pine sapling; but the way we at
length hit upon was as follows: we fastened two straight logs athwart
the canoe, setting them parallel, and just so far apart as gave room
for the mast. Having set up the mast between them, we lashed two more
logs, but shorter, crosswise upon the first two, close up against the
mast, which was then, as you perceive, gripped pretty firmly by the
four logs. The sail gave us little trouble, for we had become expert
by this time in weaving, and we wove a sort of huge mat with long
grasses, which we found to serve excellently well. Spars and cordage
were also easily made, though they took a prodigious time, and we one
day hoisted our sail to see how our contrivances would act.
[Illustration: Our Canoe]
[Sidenote: Rigging]