cliff; but then, perhaps I might come back. I could not tell. Perhaps
I should have to give up the idea of building the boat, and then it
might be years before I was rescued. I might, indeed, spend my entire
life here alone; but this thought I put away from me.
My preparations for leaving the mountain were easily made. I left the
house under the cliff exactly as it was, save the closing, securely, of
the door; and one morning as the sun came up out of the sea, and the
lovely island verdure lit up with a gorgeous blending of green, purple
and gold, I took a farewell look all around the horizon from the peak,
and, with my gun, arrows and bag of provisions, dressed in the rudely
made cocoanut-cloth garments, I started down the mountain, taking, as
nearly as I could, a northeast course toward the coast.
The ground was yet sufficiently damp to render it pleasantly springy and
cool to my feet, and the freshness of the verdure of the forest and bush
which I traversed imparted to the air a pleasant coolness, even though
the sun shone fierce and hot. Birds were flitting like iridescent gems
through the trees, and tittering curious discordant cries. Not since
the beginning of my exile had I been conscious of such cheerfulness and
light-heartedness as on this morning--and, with all, I had the feeling
of going home, as, indeed, I was.
Crossing the valley at the foot of the first mountain peak, I ascended
the lower spur and descended its side toward the level country which lay
between it and the coast. In general appearance, the bush here did not
materially differ from that to the southwest, traversed during my march
from the coast months before.
Shortly after entering the belt of virgin forest which skirted the base
of the mountain range, I emerged into an opening, perhaps two acres in
extent. It was covered with thick grass, green and luxuriant after the
rains. The grass was not tall, perhaps two feet high, apparently a new
growth, and I started to cross it. A tall cactus, a veritable tree,
stood alone near the centre of the grassland, and toward this I took my
way, thinking that I would like to examine it closely, as it was the
largest one I had seen on the island.
After examining this giant of the tropics, I continued my way across the
intervening space toward the bush on the other side. I was nearly out
of the grass, when a strange sound caused me to stand still and look
about me.
The sound came in a series of short, angry grunts, like "woof! woof!"
and, a short distance to the left I saw the grass violently agitated,
while the noise came nearer to me.
I at once decided that some animal was coming toward me, whether to
attack me or not, I could not tell. But I quickly decided that the most
sensible thing for me to do would be to seek safety. Naturally I
thought of the bush, and ran toward it. The moment I started to run the
"woof, woof!" followed me, and I increased my speed as fast as I could,
hampered as I was by the thick grass. The terrible, guttural sound
gained upon me as I plunged on, but at last I reached the bush, and,
seeing a large tree with branches near the ground, just ahead of me, I
dropped my gun and bag of provisions, and grasped the lower limb.
Quickly I climbed up to what I considered to be a safe distance, and
then looked down to see what sort of a beast my pursuer would prove to
be.
I had but a second or two to wait, for soon, not one but three shot out
of the grass and rushed to the foot of the tree. I could not mistake
them. They were pigs, wild pigs.
They looked up at me with little, cruel looking eyes, and one, the
largest, which had probably led the chase, snapped his jaws, showing
long, white tusks, ran around the tree and continued the "woof, woof!"
throwing up his head and, as he apparently grew more angry because I was
above his reach, flecks of foam were flung from the ugly jaws. This one
was, without a doubt, the boar. The other two were smaller, and seemed
to be taking matters more coolly.
They were villainous-looking beasts, gaunt, with long legs and sharp,
pointed heads; and their color was a sort of rusty-red. Feeling
perfectly safe, the question which naturally first occurred to me was,
"how long shall I be besieged in this position?" There seemed to be but
one course to follow, at present, and that to await developments. The
pigs had not appeared to notice my paraphernalia.
After a while the boar grew calmer, and finally all three lay down near
the foot of the tree. I made myself as comfortable as possible, and
looked down at them.
The day dragged along monotonously, while I was able to change my
position so frequently that I was not cramped; but I began to get very
hungry, having eaten nothing since early in the morning. The pigs
continued to remain on guard, the boar now and then getting up and
regarding me contemplatively, until the sun sank behind the forest.
Then the pigs moved away into the grass. It was soon dark, and the
moon, which was near its full, came up over the mountains; but I was not
long able to distinguish the movements of the pigs in the uncertain
moonlight.
Patiently I waited, until the moon was directly over the clearing.
There was no sound of the pigs, and, after a little, I slid to the
ground and, cautiously gathering up my gun and provision bag, moved
noiselessly away into the bush. The moonlight favored me, and I hurried
on for several miles, when I was brought to a halt by a small stream.
Feeling safe from the pigs, I decided to camp here until daylight. I did
not dare make a fire, so, after satisfying hunger with a portion of a
pigeon which I had roasted before setting out, and an orange, I sat down
by a large tree and, leaning against the trunk, was soon asleep.
*CHAPTER XII.*
_*Return to the Coast; A Mangrove Swamp; Fever*_*.*
When I awoke it was morning, and the sun was fully an hour up. Taking a
hasty bath in the cool water of the stream, and after a hurried meal,
crossing the stream on the stones that were not submerged, I set off
along the east bank. The stream flowed in a northerly direction. By
keeping close to the edge of the forest I made rapid progress. Nothing
occurred to distract my attention, except the sight of a small flock of
pigeons, one of which I killed. I encamped for the night in the edge of
a thicket, and made a fire to roast the bird which I plucked while
waiting for a bed of coals.
At daylight in the morning I continued my course down the stream which
was now much wider and deeper. Its edge was thickly fringed with
bamboo, and the idea came to me that I might construct a raft from them,
and float down stream to the coast; but then, the stream was apt to
become suddenly shallow in places, and it contained many large stones,
and after delaying for several days while constructing the raft, it
might prove to be time and labor lost.
At the close of the fourth day, as the sun was declining behind the palm
trees, I was astonished, on emerging from a thicket, to see the ocean,
blue and calm, stretching out before me. I had failed to note the fact
that I had followed a more direct course from the coast than when I
marched toward the interior, and that the mountains were much nearer the
north coast than the west. For the last two days I had noticed that the
cocoanut palms were more plentiful, as were also the bamboos along the
stream, both of which should have reminded me of my approach to salt
water. I had reached the coast sooner than I expected.
Knowing that I would probably not be able to cross the stream at its
mouth, I found a place where a few stones rose above the water, and
managed to cross to the other bank. The mouth of this stream differed
from that of either of the other two streams that I had seen. It was
broad and muddy, covering a wide expanse, and what seemed the strangest
to me was that trees were growing from the water, covering the entire
area of the mouth of the stream. Each tree rested upon the apex formed
by a cluster of roots, which rose from the water, looking like gigantic
spiders or devil-fish. I could see under the whole aquatic forest, a
tangle of slimy roots above the dark water. The air was permeated by an
indescribable stench; and around the edge of the dark recess, black,
hairy crabs crawled about, or lay by the festering pools. I concluded
that this was one of the famous mangrove swamps, and I decided to retire
from such an undesirable locality.
Accordingly I proceeded along the beach until I was free from the smell
of the swamp, where I made camp for the night beneath some spreading
trees near the water's edge, making a fire and roasting yams, and
broiling a pigeon which I had killed just after crossing the stream.
When I awoke in the morning I felt that a change had come over me. I
felt dazed, the back of my head was aching, and I had a burning fever.
After a few moments I remembered the swamp. The air which I had been
breathing must be laden with fever. I staggered to my feet and, without
stopping to get breakfast, I started along the beach, my course now
being toward the west.
I felt very weak and walked with great difficulty. I was obliged to stop
frequently to rest, and toward mid-day I managed to eat the remainder of
the pigeon that I had broiled the night before. Once I saw some orange
trees, but the fruit was both sour and bitter. I sucked some of the
juice, however. The bitter and the acid seemed to allay my fever a
little, and I soon felt less weak. I camped at sundown, and went to
sleep with confidence that my condition would be improved in the
morning, as I was at a safe distance from the swamp.
For two days more I marched along the shore, finding sweet orange-trees
frequently, and plenty of pigeons whenever I chose to make a short
detour into the forest.
At last a high mound appeared ahead where the shore seemed to take a
sharp sweep toward the south, and, hurrying forward, I was soon standing
at the top of it and, to my great joy, looking down upon the bay where I
had been cast ashore.
Crossing the familiar little stream, I hastened toward my house. It was
with a feeling of relief that I saw that everything was apparently as I
had left it.
*CHAPTER XIII.*
_*A Feathered Companion; Making a Fish-Trap*_*.*
Everything about my house was as I had left it. Nothing had been
disturbed, the overflowing stream not having reached it. The vines
around the stockade now completely covered it, and the yams that I had
planted in front of the stockade-gate were thick and luxuriant, the
great, bean-like leaves completely concealing the entrance.
The effects of the fever were fast leaving me, and I grew strong
rapidly. There was much to do, now that I was settled down at home. I
dug up the yams in front of the stockade-gate and stored them in the
house for future use. Then I carried out the couch and made a new one
of fresh branches and grass, more comfortable than the first had been.
I also made two fire-places, mere enclosures for keeping the coals in
place. These consisted of circular enclosures of stones brought from
the stream, each about three feet in diameter and one foot high, one
being in a corner of the house for use during rainy weather, and the
other in the enclosure of the stockade, near the gate.
My next thought was to plant yams by the trunks of all the trees near
the house. This would furnish me an inexhaustible supply, and of a
superior quality, as the vines would have plenty of chance to climb, up
and around the tree trunks.
One day while walking through the bush in search of pigeons, having
succeeded in killing two, I came across several cocoanut palms of much
smaller size than any I had yet seen. They were not more than fifteen
feet high to the base of the leaf heads, and their tops were very
spreading, much more so in proportion to the length of the trunks than
in the case of the larger trees. But these all bore great bunches of
nuts, and I began to wonder how the unripe nuts would taste, and whether
they contained more water than the ripe ones.
With but little difficulty I climbed one of them, and with my knife
clipped the stems of several of the nuts, which went tumbling to the
ground.
Descending, I cut off the husk of the end opposite the stem, until I
could make a hole through the shell. The latter was very thin and soft,
and the knife went through it easily. My knife was always in excellent
condition, kept so by frequent sharpening on the stone which I used for
striking fire to the tinder.
Raising the nut as though it were a canteen, I drank the water. It was
somewhat different from that of a ripe nut, much sweeter, more limpid
and very cool and refreshing. After the water was drained from the nut
I out it open, when I found the whole inside lined with a whitish,
translucent pulp, of the consistency of solid jelly. This I found to be
delicious, but, after having eaten a little, rather sickish. However, I
carried several of the unripe nuts to the house, and soon became very
fond of them. I made frequent trips to the young palms and the water
became my principal beverage, while my only dessert was the jelly, for
which I carved a rude spoon from a piece of hard wood.
I noticed that the parrots were not so noisy as they had been before I
left for the interior, and for several weeks I was at a loss to account
for it. But one evening, while returning from the water-cocoanut palms,
I espied two diminutive parrots fluttering through the bush. They were
young ones and not quite able to fly, though nearly fledged. They would
launch out from a limb, sometimes falling short of their next perch, and
sometimes striking against a limb, when they would flutter to the
ground, making small, parrot-like cries. They were a beautiful green,
with red wing feathers and red breasts and necks. The parent birds all
the while remained near-by, as though encouraging the little ones in
their attempts to fly.
I tried to catch one of them, but they were sufficiently active to evade
me successfully. I felt a great desire to capture one and teach him to
talk, for I sometimes longed for a companion to speak to. Finally I
evolved a plan for catching one. I set to work to construct a net, for
a snare would injure them. I prepared a great quantity of fibres from
the cocoanut cloth, and with it wove a purse-shaped net, perhaps two
feet in length. This was to be suspended to a limb of a tree, and
baited with a piece of roast yam suspended over the mouth of the bag in
such a manner that, when the young parrot reached for it, he would be
almost sure to lose his balance and fall in. Its weight, together with
the fluttering of the bird, would draw the mouth of the bag together and
prevent its escape.
This net cost me several weeks of work, but it was at last finished and
ready to set. This I did very carefully, selecting a low limb in what
seemed a favorite place for the parent birds to give flying lessons to
the little ones.
For several days the net remained undisturbed, and every morning I
supplied it with a fresh, white piece of yam.
One morning, just at daylight, I was awakened by a great outcry of
parrots, and, feeling sure that one of the young birds had fallen into
the net, I hastened toward it. Sure enough, the net had done its work,
for it was bobbing about and swaying from the limb, while muffled little
shrieks came from the nearly-closed mouth; and from the trees around
there arose a perfect babel of discordant cries of parrots, old and
young. The two parent birds were perched on the limb over the net, when
I arrived, but on my approach they flew away a short distance, hurling
cries of defiance at me. Carefully I cut the net clear of the limb and
carried it to the house, the belligerent little parrot all the time
fluttering and shrieking, and striking at my hand whenever it was near
the opening. I reproached myself for not thinking to make a cage for it
when captured, and I was obliged to secure the opening and deposit the
net in the house, while I made a cage for my future companion. This was
not a difficult task. Going to the brook where the wild canes grew, I
cut a quantity of them and, cutting them to the required length, I stuck
them into the ground, leaving spaces about two inches wide. The canes
formed a small yard about two feet square. The top was covered with a
piece of cocoanut cloth, the edges being tied all around to the upright
canes.
How to get the fighting little bird out of the net and into the cage was
the next question. I did not exactly relish the idea of putting my hand
into the net, so finally I decided to lift one corner of the cocoanut
cloth on the top of the cage, and, loosening the mouth of the net,
insert it under the cloth, at the same time reversing the net. The
scheme worked perfectly and the little parrot tumbled into the cage, his
feathers all ruffled. He was a curious little thing and I laughed aloud
as, without uttering a sound, he proceeded to smooth his feathers, and
then to circumnavigate the cage. He then retired a little from the bars
and regarded me with the utmost seriousness, canting his head, looking
at me first with one eye and then the other. Then he began to dress his
feathers, evidently resolved to make the best of it all, and to feel
perfectly at home from the first.
I made my pet a little run-way outside the wall of the house,
constructing it in the same manner as I had the cage, covering it half
with cloth and the remainder with canes so he could have both sun and
shade. This enclosure I connected with the cage by cutting a square
hole through the wall of the house.
As the weeks passed, the parrot grew, his wing and tail feathers
developed, and he became very beautiful. He enjoyed his new home,
apparently, spending a part of his time outside, and part inside. He
enjoyed the sunshine, but would never remain long in it. He preferred
the shade of the cloth covered portion. Nights, he always passed
inside, and I made a perch for him to sleep on. It was simply a cane
passing through the cage and securely fastened to a bar on each side.
Hours and hours he would spend, swinging on this bar over and over,
holding on with his claws, and then with his stubby beak. I fed him on
yams, bananas and oranges, but the banana was his favorite food.
Every day I talked to him, telling him all about the ship-wreck,
discussing with him the various tasks that occupied me, and the
probability of my rescue. I named him Puff Ball on account of his shape
when captured, and then I called him simply "Puff." Puff listened
patiently to all I had to say, frequently interjecting a sharp comment.
Sometimes he would interrupt me by setting up a loud screeching, and I
always had to cease talking when Puff had the floor.
For weeks he did not appear to attempt to imitate my words, and I began
to despair of teaching him to talk, when one morning, as I lay awake for
a few minutes before arising, I heard him softly chattering to himself.
I listened and heard him say "Puff," "Puff," very distinctly. I was
delighted and, going to the cage, I complimented him on his first
attempt.
Once while bathing in the stream, I noticed, for the first time, several
fish gliding through a quiet pool. From the momentary glance I had of
them they appeared to resemble the white perch of the lakes at home.
This opportunity to add to my larder could not be neglected, and I set
to work to devise a plan for capturing them. I thought, at first, of
making a hook from thorns; but this idea was abandoned as not apt to be
practical, and I hit upon a plan for making a net. The first
inspiration gradually developed into a trap, and took definite shape as
I revolved the matter in my mind. It was a simple device, but I spent
much time and patience in perfecting it.
First selecting one of the supple vines, about half an inch in
thickness, I bent it into the form of a hoop, two feet in diameter,
uniting the two ends by lashing them with smaller vines. Then, with the
aid of a sharp thorn and thread from the fibre of the cocoanut, I sewed
together pieces of the cocoanut cloth so as to make a bag three feet
long, with an opening of the same diameter as the hoop. Then I sewed
the edge of the opening of the bag firmly to the hoop, which kept the
bag rigidly open.
Next, from more vines, I wove a funnel-shaped basket, the larger end
fitting inside the hoop, while the smaller end, which was inserted into
the bag, had an opening about six inches in diameter. The larger end of
this basket, which was like an inverted cone, was lashed to the hoop,
all around.
This was my fish-trap, and as soon as it was ready I took it to the
brook. The water was normally low and, finding the narrowest place in
the current, I built across it a wall of stones, having an opening in
the centre of the wall, in width just a little less than the diameter of
the hoop. The trap was then set into this opening, with the mouth
pointing up-stream, the gentle current keeping the bag distended, while
the hoop projecting across the edges of the opening in the wall held the
bag in position.
I expected that the fish, swimming downstream, finding no other passage,
would enter the opening of the bag and pass through the small opening in
the lower end of the cone, thereby becoming imprisoned. From similar
devices that my brother and myself had made and used in the brooks at
home, I knew that, once inside, the fish would huddle in the lower end
of the bag and make no effort to repass through the opening in the end
of the cone.
*CHAPTER XIV.*
_*Another Exploring Trip; Tropical Fruits*_*.*
The morning following the setting of the trap I removed it and, allowing
the water to drain out through the meshes in the bag, I found three
beautiful silvery fish, not unlike the white perch of the northern
waters. Cleaning them, I broiled them over the coals, and found them to
be delicious, delicate and fine flavored. After that I had no lack of
fresh fish.
Puff, meantime, had made rapid progress in the art of talking and could
carry on quite a conversation--and many were the hours I spent assisting
him in adding to his vocabulary. He insisted upon following me
everywhere I went, always walking and never making any attempt to fly,
his instructions in the use of his wings having been neglected since his
capture. When walking through the bush in search of pigeons and other
provisions, I always carried Puff perched upon my shoulder, and he never
made any attempt to escape. He seemed as perfectly satisfied with my
society as I was with his, and we kept up a continuous conversation.
My supply of salt becoming nearly exhausted, I procured a large supply,
enough to last me many months, by the same process as had been employed
on the first experiment while marching along the coast. This I sealed
securely in joints of bamboo.
Having no particular task on hand, one afternoon I proceeded to prepare
a supply of provisions, roast pigeon, fish, yam, a few oranges and half
a dozen green cocoanuts, preparatory to setting off, the following
morning, to explore along the bank of the stream, which flowed almost by
my door, toward its source. I knew that this was a separate stream,
independent of the other two that I had met with. I remembered that I
had not crossed a third stream on my march from the mountains, and I was
curious as to its source. Certainly it must be much shorter than the
other two.
Seeking my couch early in order that I might set off by daylight, before
going to sleep I remembered that I needed a new supply of arrows. This
would necessitate delaying another day, and in the morning I set to
work, and before sunset I had several dozen of much better made arrows
than the first ones.
With my quiver and provision bag slung across my back and with Puff on
one shoulder and the bow-gun on the other, I set out just as the sun was
rising above the palm trees. I kept to the left bank of the stream, and
soon passed "Bamboo Pool" where I had first discovered these useful
plants.
I walked along rapidly, stopping only to refresh myself and Puff. The
way was easy, for there were very few shrubs or thorn bushes along the
bank. But I had to occasionally turn aside to avoid inhospitable cactus
plants, and the sharp, dagger-like plant which grew plentifully almost
everywhere.
Just as I was thinking about seeking a good place to camp in order that
I might make myself and Puff comfortable before dark, I was brought to
an abrupt stop, where I stood transfixed with surprise; for I had
reached the source of the stream, less than a day's journey from my
house.