Now it happened that one morning at about eight o’clock when the fishermen were about to launch out into the deep in their regular quest for food that a sudden cry of “Sail ho!” was raised and re-echoed until all the islanders heard it. A large sailing ship was standing in towards the bay with the obvious intention of communicating, and immediately everybody was on the alert. For in spite of their happy care-free life, which left little to be desired by them, there were certain needs which they had inherited, such as clothes, tea, sugar, flour, and tools, which the presence of a ship always brought vividly to their remembrance. And in consequence they were always ready to barter their simple commodities: fruit, vegetables, eggs, fowls, pigs, fish, etc., for whatever they could induce the visitors to part with except liquor and tobacco.
So a boat was hurriedly launched, manned by the stoutest rowers, with Philip at the steer oar, and C. B. at the stroke, while the rest of the islanders busied themselves collecting such produce as they hoped the ship might be in want of. Fowls and eggs and fruit and milk and pigs, fresh food such as ships in that day were so often glad of. As the boat dashed alongside in splendid style the rowers noted that the ship was thronged with passengers of a curious type to them, hundreds of yellow faces peeredover the side and an incessant high pitched babblement of voices went on, utterly unintelligible to the islanders. Philip grabbed a rope thrown to him and was about to spring on board when he caught sight of those rows of parchment-like faces and paused, looking doubtfully at his boat’s crew.
The captain, however, gazing cynically down upon him, said: “What’s the matter with you? Afraid of a few Chinamen, are ye? Come on board and don’t be such a fool.”
Philip flushed darkly under his tan, and then saying quietly, “Don’t make the warp fast,” swung himself lightly on board, where, standing on the rail holding on by the main top-mast backstays, he surveyed the strange scene beneath him on the vessel’s deck. She was crowded with yellow men, who wandered aimlessly about or squatted in groups gibbering away. To add to the confusion there were hundreds of canaries in cages which were hung about, and they were all singing at once, each doing his little best to drown the clamour of his neighbours.
Raising his voice almost to a shout the captain addressed Philip with the question: “Have you godly beach-combers got any fresh provisions to sell? I’m fifty days out from Macao bound to Callao, and my passengers are beginning to die like flies. I don’t know what’s the matter with ’em, unless it is the foul grub that was put aboard for ’em by the compradore, though I never heard before that any grub was foul enough to poison a Chink.”
Philip replied calmly: “We have plenty of produce, sir, which we shall be glad to exchange with you for tools, clothes, books or anything of that sort. But we don’t want money, it’s of no use to us.”
And he recapitulated the articles available for supply at once, to which the captain replied: “Allright, come on aft and I’ll have some stuff brought up to show you.” So Philip most willingly sprang down on the deck and followed the captain aft to the cabin. Here he was first offered some rum, which he courteously refused, much to the captain’s amusement. Then in obedience to the captain’s commands a heap of clothing was brought up out of the slop chest and a few rusty tools of various sorts, including half a dozen coal shovels, at sight of which Philip’s eyes glistened, for these were sorely needed on the island. There were no books available at all, only a heap of old newspapers which Philip did not look twice at, for what did the news of the world matter to these children of Nature?
Then having selected such goods as they needed as far as the limited supply before him would allow, Philip suggested that they should be put in his boat and that the captain should accompany him ashore and see what they had got to offer in exchange, which goods they would bring back with the captain to the ship. To this the captain answered that he should prefer Philip to bring such stuff as he had ready, pass it on board and make his bargain there, as he, the captain, did not want to leave the ship.
Philip rose and looking the captain steadfastly in the face, said: “No sir, on several occasions when we, trusting that other people would act as we always do to one another, have brought our produce on board a passing ship, we have been compelled to take whatever the captain has chosen to give us or nothing at all, because we were completely at his mercy. Now we are always ready to give of our substance to help ships in distress, expecting no payment, but we are sorely in need of certain things, and can only get them by selling our stuff. And if we are cheated it is hard for us to bear, knowing as wedo that we would never cheat anybody for any consideration whatever.”
At this modest and dignified remark the captain flew into an assumed rage and cried, “You stuck up hypocritical half nigger, half mutineer, how dare you talk to an English gentleman like that! I’ve half a mind to have you flung overboard, only I know you can’t be drowned. Don’t come any of your palaver over me, for it won’t do. I understand you fellows through and through.”
Philip smiled sadly, but without showing a trace of surprise or fear, then saying, “I’m sorry, sir, that we can’t come to terms,” turned to leave the saloon.
This was too much for the captain, who roared “Here! where ye goin’, ye black thief?” (Many a bronzed Englishman is darker than Philip was.) “Come back here!”
But Philip strode to the deck, leapt on the rail, and shouting, “Let go, boys,” plunged feet foremost into the sea. In a moment the boat, released, was at his side and he had climbed on board.
Overhead, the captain, standing on the rail, was crying, “Don’t be silly, I was only trying to bluff you, it’s all in the way of business. Come up alongside; I’ll come with you and bring the stuff ashore. Good heavens! what a rum lot these Kanakas are, to be sure.”
By this time Philip had taken hasty counsel with his friends and had decided to take the captain on shore if he would come, but that none of them would board that awful ship again under any pretence. So they sheered alongside, caught again the rope that was flung them and received a heap of goods, the captain and two men following. Then they headed for the beach with a sigh of relief, for the very proximity of the ship was hateful to them. Theysoon reached the landing place, the captain and his two henchmen looking very white as the ably handled boat was deftly guided stern foremost over the immense breakers, and stepping ashore uncertainly as the ready arms of the islanders were held out to them.
But no sooner had they landed than the captain and his two men began to swagger and ogle the women and girls who crowded down to the beach intent upon welcome. C. B. was close beside the skipper as he reached forward to clasp a beautiful girl near him by the waist. Lithe as a leopard the boy sprang between the maiden and the captain, crying as he did so: “That’s my sister, sir, and anyhow you mustn’t touch our girls; you are not good enough!”
Well, wasn’t that foolish man angry? he made a sweeping motion with his arm as if to brush an insect from his path, but C. B. seized him by both hands and held him so firmly that he was unable to move, saying at the same time, “Please behave yourself, sir; we won’t hurt you, but you must not go on ugly like this.” The two men who were with the captain looked frightened—for they were thinking of massacres in the South Seas of which they had often heard and doubtless expected something of the kind. The skipper however knew better, and acted worse, for he raged like a madman, the islanders standing round looking grave and stem while all the women folk slipped away. When he had cursed himself out of breath C. B. spoke again: “Now, sir, if you are ready we’ll take you back to your ship. We want to trade badly enough, but it’s almost paying too dearly for the privilege, having men like you among us. We are very sorry for you, but wish you would go.”
No one of the islanders added anything, for they felt as if C. B. had exactly expressed what they would say and for a few moments there was a dead silence. Then the captain said in a curiously subdued voice: “I don’t know but what you’re right after all, young fellow, whoever you are, and I apologize. I didn’t intend to act so ugly, believe me. And now if you’ll bring along your produce we’ll trade, for I ought to be getting back to my ship.” Immediately following upon his words, and without an order being given, there was a dispersal of the islanders, who soon reappeared laden with all the things they had to sell: vegetables, fruit, eggs, fowls and pigs, all that sailors most eagerly desire after a long voyage.
It was an easy market, for there was practically no haggling, and when all the goods that the captain had brought were exhausted, the kindly folk presented him with the rest of the produce which was left, an act of generosity which deepened the tan on his face as he, even he, realized what a contrast there was between his behaviour and theirs. But I do not know that he was so very much to blame after all, for it was probably the first time he had come across practical primitive Christianity in full operation. However, as he turned to leave the beach again he held out his hand to C. B., saying: “Youngster, I’m ashamed of myself, that’s all I can say. I shall remember to-day as long as I live. And I want to tell that splendid fellow the same, the man whom I spoke so badly to in my saloon.”
“Oh, you mean my father,” said C. B. “Here he is!” and Philip stepped forward, a gentle smile on his face, and his hand outstretched, saying as he came, “Don’t bother about me, sir, I’m only sorry that you should be afflicted with such a hasty temper and disbelief in the goodness of anybody. But pleasesay no more. If you are ready to go on board we are ready to take you.”
“Ah, I don’t wonder you want to get rid of me,” murmured the skipper sorrowfully; “how you’ve put up with me so long I don’t know. All I know is that you’ve made me feel as I’ve never done before, and I’d love to stay here and take a few lessons from you good folks how to live. But I must get back to the hog-trough again, I suppose. Come along, the sooner I get aboard the better,” and he strode firmly towards the boat.
Philip and his son looked at each other for a moment irresolutely, the same thought in each of their minds, should they ask him to stay and see their dear old pastor who would speak words of comfort to his tortured soul? But the time had passed, all hands were in the boat save the steersman, and Philip sprang to his place while the waiting crowd ran the buoyant craft out into the foaming surf and the long oars drove her strenuously through the tormented waters, forcing her out to the smooth sea beyond. Once out of the surf the rowers settled down into the long, regular swing of deep sea oarsmen, and they rapidly neared the vessel. She lay lazily rolling to the heavy swell with her mainyard to the mast, but not a sign of life about her, for all the crowd on board. But as the boat swung alongside the mate sprang on to the rail and shouted his orders, a rope was flung, the side ladder lowered and the skipper climbed aboard, saying as he did so, “Come up, Mr. Boat-steerer, and I’ll treat ye different, see if I don’t.”
But Philip gravely declined. He did not care to run any such risks, knowing from much previous experience how soon such impressions as the captain had received are apt to change with a different scene.And the captain did not repeat his invitation. Turning to the mate he ordered all dispatch to be made in getting the stores on board, then abruptly left the side and the boat’s crew saw him no more. In a very few minutes the boat was cleared and as soon as she was empty Philip shouted, “Cast off that rope.” It was done and with a powerful sweep of the steer oar they swept away from the ship’s side, and shipping their oars bent to them with a will, every man of them feeling glad to put an increasing distance between them and the hive of evil they felt the ship to be.
And as they did so they saw the mainyard swing, heard the wailing cries of the sailors as they trimmed the sails to the light breeze and with a sense of utter relief watched her glide off towards the open sea. Then Philip raised his beautiful voice in the grand old song of satisfaction: “O God, our help in ages past,” in which his crew joined, as was their wont, in sweetest concord. By the time she reached the beach the ship was almost hull down on the horizon and never, as far as log-books or signalling stations can tell, was she reported again.
That night there was another great family gathering of the islanders, first for equitable division of the articles bought, and next for the usual thanksgiving in that they had suffered no harm at the hands of their visitors. For even these gentle, happy children of love were suspicious of all contact with the outer world, they always feared the worst, knowing how utterly foreign to their ideas of brotherly love and unity of heart were the majority of even the few people who touched at their island. How hard it is for us, who, whether we like it or not, are bound to feel doubtful of professors of Christianity, when we realize the deeds and hear the words of so many of them, tounderstand the feelings of this primitive people, among whom the commandment to love one another had become an ingrained principle. Many of us with the best will in the world to believe in them find ourselves saying, “Ah well, they are exceptionally favoured by their situation and history. If they only lived as we do, among civilized heathen, professing to be Christians and yet denying the power of God to do His will among us they would be as lukewarm and half hearted as most of us are.”
Something of this kind must have entered into C. B.’s thoughts that night. For after the young ones had gone to sleep he and his father and mother sat on the stoop in front of their house discussing in their simple way the events of the day and their bearing upon what they knew of life until suddenly the young man said, “Mother, sometimes I think that it’s all very well for us to be as happy and loving and fond of God as we are here where everybody is like-minded, but what if one of us should be suddenly flung out of this among people like those we’ve seen to-day? How should we stand it, do you think? I don’t quite know how to put it, but what I mean is, are we good because we are shut in with goodness and have no temptations to be had, or are we good because we really love good and hate evil? And should we be thus good if everybody around us was bad?”
His gentle mother made answer, “Dear son, why worry your head about such things. If I understand God’s word at all it tells me that if I live for God and with Him for the present the future has nothing to do with me. But I believe that wherever He puts me He will provide me with grace to meet every form of evil. I do not find, though, that if I go voluntarily where there is evil I get anypromise of being made proof against it. At any rate I know that I love God and all His ways as far as I know anything, and I can’t imagine myself happy in any other condition. And I am quite content with that, blessing Him for putting me where I am, in the midst of people who love Him also.”
Philip who had been sitting, as was usual with him when unemployed, gazing into vacancy with his thoughts far away, suddenly aroused himself and said in a dreamy voice—
“I don’t believe that all the people who don’t know God are unhappy, but I’m sure that most of them are, judging from those I’ve mixed with on my travels. And I’m quite sure that if people were taught in Christian lands as we are here, if they were brought up to look upon God as a personal Friend always near, and one that no one who knows Him could be afraid of, there would be an enormous number of people more loving Him and knowing Him than there are. I kept my eyes open and listened also while I was in America and Australia, and I went to all sorts of places where they said God was worshipped, and I got entirely bewildered.
“For it seemed to me that what they called religion was a thing which hadn’t anything to do with their lives at all. They went to church or chapel or meeting on Sundays, and said so many prayers or listened to what the preacher had to say, not at all because they loved God, but because they thought that if they didn’t do these things they would be punished for ever and ever by being in a place called hell, always burning and never burnt up. As for loving God as a man loves a good father or mother, or loving Jesus as one loves a dear elder brother who has always been our ideal man since we were toddlers, the thing didn’t seem to strike them in any way.And in some of the churches I went into I could hardly help laughing, it all seemed so funny, all a big show to please God who made all the glorious world we live in and the wonders in heaven above. When I asked them if they thought God minded how they dressed or walked or smelt (I didn’t like the smoky smelly stuff at all), they got angry and said I was an ignorant heathen, which of course didn’t hurt me a bit because I knew I wasn’t. But I did try to show them in the Bible how plainly God had said as to little toddling children that all this outward show was of no value in his sight, that it was the heart and life that really mattered. Only they said then that I was so stupid it was waste of time arguing with me.”
C. B. did not remember ever having heard his father talk for so long a time without stopping before, and he was tremendously impressed by what he had heard. Nevertheless, there was a growing, deepening desire in his mind to go and see this curious world, to test the reality of his own love of God in contact with the extraordinary conditions which his father said obtained in the great struggling masses of people who belonged to professedly Christian countries. He felt, in fact, like the inhabitant of another planet in the old story who was smitten with a strong desire to come to earth and see for himself whether what he had heard was true, and if there were even stranger things to be found in this wonderful little world than he had heard of.
No word of this growing craving escaped the young man, but daily, almost hourly, in the midst of his simple toils, he thought over the possibilities of his getting personally acquainted with the outside world, until the longing to do so was the strongest factor in his life. He grew graver, more self-centred, and allhis intimates noticed it, for it was so complete a change from his previous liveliness. Still, nobody mentioned the matter to him, none felt it their business to interfere with him, more especially as he was if anything more energetic than ever in performing his share of the work, and if it may be said, where all alike were kind and unselfish, was more thoughtful of others than ever he had been.
So the days and weeks and months glided away in most uneventful fashion among the happy islanders. There were births hailed with decorous joy and earnest praise for God’s good gifts, two or three deaths, met by all as the natural termination of an earthly probation and the commencement of real life. As such these events were no occasions for wild outbursts of grief. Tears were shed of course when the bereaved ones remembered that in this life the dear companion would be seen no more, but these were speedily dried at the thought of the short time which would pass before reunion came, and then separation would be an impossibility. For these people, strange as it may seem to us, acted as if what they believed were real to them, and not some cunningly devised fable, in which they had to profess belief in order to hoodwink God into letting them into Heaven. A Heaven, by the way, which they believed to be a glorified earth wherein there should be no physical, moral, or mental evil.
For of all three of these, although they themselves were in so wonderful a measure free from them, they had experience from without. As, for instance, when one day after a long spell of perfect peace, not a sail being sighted nor any whaling done, the lookout man on the cliff reported something in the offing, either a dead whale, a boat, or a piece of wreckage. In any case something quite well worth whileinvestigating, and so a boat with C. B. as boat steerer put off to see what the waif might be. It was an hour’s strenuous pull before they reached the object, but some time before C. B.’s eyes had made it out to be a boat, apparently derelict.
But when they drew up alongside of the wanderer a simultaneous groan of pity burst from them, for the sight they saw chilled their blood. There were four ghastly objects lying across the thwarts that had once been men but now looked like mummified corpses. Burnt black by the sun, every bone showing clearly beneath the strained withered skin, hair and beards like weeds, and lying in the bottom of the boat sundry awful fragments of humanity that told their own horrible tale of cannibalism. And a foul stench arose from the boat which befouled the pure air and made the visitors feel deathly sick.
It was no time, however, to give way to any weakness of that sort, especially as they had nothing with them in the way of restoratives, supposing that any life remained in these pitiful relics of human beings. So they made the strange boat fast to their own, and turning shoreward laid to their oars with all their might. Fortunately it was an almost perfectly calm day, so that the passage through the breakers was accomplished with little difficulty, and when they reached the beach there were scores of willing hands ready to help. They lifted the poor wrecks ashore tenderly, finding that two of them still breathed, and immediately carried them off to where hot milk and the juice of fresh fruit could be administered to them. Very gently and patiently they strove to coax back the fast departing life into those frail bundles of bones, and were at last rewarded by hearing some words in a tongue that noneof them could understand issuing from the cracked lips of one of the men.
Their curiosity was restrained, however, by the absolute necessity of keeping the poor creatures quiet if the flickering sparks of life were to be kept glowing, and presently they were delighted by seeing both the rescued ones fall into a deep sleep. Then they turned their attention to the burial of the dead in their little graveyard with all the sweet and simple solemnity they used in their own interments. But the dreadful evidences of cannibalism in the boat could not be forgotten, much as they tried to excuse and extenuate, for all of them felt that nothing would ever have induced them to act in the same manner. Still, these children of peace would not condemn, despite their horror, and their pity was immense.
Long and earnest were the consultations and speculations on the circumstances which had led to the casting away of these poor waifs, but when the time had come for retiring for the night only one possible solution of the mystery had been arrived at—that these were survivors of some terrible shipwreck, and all thanked God that such a frightful experience had never been theirs. And so in this good and peaceful atmosphere of peace and love the little community went to their happy rest.
With the first streak of dawn, as was their wont, all the islanders were astir, and their first thoughts were for the rescued ones. The news soon spread throughout the community that the two men had awakened, mightily refreshed, and that one of them could speak a few words of English. All ordinary tasks were neglected, and practically the whole village flocked to the house where they, the rescued ones, had been sheltered for the night. And there they saw their guests gaunt, wild-eyed and scared-looking, holding quite a levee, and one endeavouring to explain how they came to be there.
It was a difficult task, for his English was of the feeblest and his pronunciation of the words he did know so extraordinary that it required many repetitions of even the simplest phrases and great patience on the part of the listeners to gather the sense of what he said. At last, however, they learned that these two were the sole survivors of ten men, who, after killing two of their guardians, had escaped from New Caledonia, the French convict island. Four weeks had elapsed since they had seen the last of that awful place of their imprisonment, four weeks of such horror that the scanty words of English possessed by the spokesman could only give the barest outline of them. But quite enough was told to satisfy them that such an experiencesavoured of that place of torment of which they never spoke but in whispers, and they wondered much whether the men who had succumbed early in the struggle were not the more fortunate. And gradually, as they grew more and more accustomed to the curious speech of the man who was trying to explain, they learned of doings within the narrow compass of that boat adrift helplessly upon the great lone sea that made their flesh crawl upon their bones, which made them involuntarily shrink from the narrator, whose utter unconcern as he told in baldest words the story of his adventures, fascinated them while it frightened them. For none of them had ever realized such a depth of callous depravity as was now manifested before them.
Only the sacred laws of hospitality, nowhere more firmly held to and observed than here where everything was held in common, as became the primitive Christianity of the people, restrained them from isolating the strangers as if they were suffering from frightful disease both contagious and infectious. Occasionally a gentle attempt to show their disapproval of the foul terms used by the narrator in telling his story was made, but quite in vain, for it is a lamentable fact that picking up a language colloquially, as one does among the workers of the world, it is always the vilenesses of the language which are first acquired, because they are most frequently used, and by some devilish twist of memory they are always the expressions which stick.
However, the older men among the islanders met and determined that, God helping them, this new and bad element of evil must not be permitted to spread among the younger folk, and the word was passed quietly around that while the strangerswere to be treated with every courtesy and kindness, they were not to be associated with indiscriminately; intercourse with them was to be confined to a very small body of the older men, all of whom had known something of the evil of the world without, and were all unlikely to be affected now by anything they might hear, however vile.
Nevertheless, it was felt throughout the settlement that there had come into their peaceful midst an appalling danger, and the subject came into their prayers continually. The strangers, having made a rapid recovery, swaggered about the little settlement as if they were the lords of it, rather enjoying the whole-hearted terror of them evinced by the younger folk, and yet cursing vigorously what they were pleased to call the inhospitable way in which they were being treated. By this time the islanders had discovered that they were harbouring two criminals of the blackest dye, men from whom the least vestige of goodness was absent, whose thoughts were only evil, and that continually. Worse still, it seemed as if the island was likely to be cursed with their presence for an indefinite time, for upon the suggestion that they would be able to leave by the first ship that called at the island the two desperadoes avowed with awful words that they were not going to risk their liberty in any ship whatever. They were quite contented, they said, in their present position, and proposed to marry and settle down.
What that prospect meant to the islanders can hardly be realized unless the readers have entered into the spirit of this happy community. The advent of a couple of man-eating tigers in some peaceful, lonely village here in England could not cause as much terror, because sportsmen wouldspeedily be forthcoming who would slay the beasts, and these human beasts, though far more dangerous than tigers, could not be destroyed in the same manner. And day by day those patient, peaceful people watched and waited and prayed, yet feared what they could not help feeling was the approaching tragedy.
It is not too much to say that the whole course of life in that lovely island home was embittered by the presence of these two degenerate children of French civilization, who prated and bragged of their superiority to all law, and being Anarchists and free, professing indeed much the same principles that some of our legislators do to-day, although the latter are hardly prepared as yet to carry those principles to their logical conclusion.
Deliverance from this terrible incubus came in dramatic fashion. By some means, during an extra busy time, the two miscreants had escaped from the almost ceaseless watchfulness of those set apart for that purpose. And as they were always planning evil of a certain kind, and were only waiting fitting opportunity to carry out those plans, they seized this, to them, favourable chance to attempt a crime which I will not hint at. It happened that at this very time C. B. had been up the mountain side after honey, having some days before located a hive. He was heavily burdened with spoil, and having tramped a good many miles was feeling healthily weary, when he heard a piercing shriek. It was the first time in his life that he had ever heard such a sound, but it focussed all his fears and apprehensions, and for one moment paralyzed all his energies.
Then the brave blood surged back from his heart, he dropped his burden and plunged furiously in thedirection of the sound, actuated by he could not tell what terrible thoughts. A stifled scream spurred him on, like a buffalo he crashed through all obstacles, arriving presently in the open of a little glade amidst the thick boscage to find his sister, his darling Jenny, four years younger than himself, faintly struggling in the grasp of the two ex-convicts. He was transformed for the moment into a savage, and leapt upon the nearest with a yell that would have quite become one of his dusky ancestors. The wretch upon whom he fell, taken by surprise, had no chance at all, for C. B. snatched him up as one does a filthy rag and hurled him with tremendous force against a tree hole, which he struck with a dull crash and fell limp and motionless.
The other scoundrel, letting go the trembling girl, rushed off into the bush, but C. B., full of fury, plunged after him, caught him in a dozen strides, and battered him with fists and feet in so furious a manner that in a very short time he was reduced to a helpless lump of inanimate flesh. Then C. B. desisted, panting, but beginning to feel compunction for the fury he had been led into, as well as fear that he had killed one or both of the wretches. But I am truly thankful to say that such a feeling was only momentary, justification of himself as being bound to act in the way he did or be unfit to live quickly succeeded, and he drew himself up again to the full stature of his grand young manhood. And then he thought of his poor young sister; but she, as soon as she was released from her savage assailants, had fled with the swiftness of an antelope to the settlement, nor stayed until she had found a group of men, to whom she told her story.
So as C. B. was puzzling himself as to how he should secure his prisoners—for, of course, he soregarded them—three stalwart men, one of whom was his father, came crashing through the undergrowth and greeted him warmly. He said little but pointed to the evidence of his prowess. Both of the villains were just recovering from the shocks they had received, and were looking almost as if they had been dragged along under a harrow. They were very subdued, and regarded C. B. with a great deal of respect, making no attempt at resistance as they were led away toward the village.
By this time the news of the affair had spread, and the whole community were gathering with looks of horror and consternation at the two wretches who had thus repaid, or attempted to repay, the loving-kindness to which they owed life and health. But little was said, and that only in whispers, as the prisoners were led to the house of the old patriarch who was at once minister and dispenser of law, the latter function indeed being quite a sinecure among this people whose love of righteousness was inbred and fostered in every imaginable way.
Arriving there, they were consigned to as near a substitute for a prison as the island afforded, a strongly built outhouse, their hurts being attended to and food and drink supplied them. Then they were left under guard, being informed that any attempt on their part to break loose would be followed immediately by their being tied up, for as they had chosen to behave as wild beasts, they must look to be treated as dangerous, and every precaution taken against them. Thoroughly cowed for the time by the rough handling they had received, the only argument they could understand, they attempted no protest against their confinement, but sullenly accepted what was given them and done for them like men accustomed to bow submissively to theinevitable. And thus they were left to themselves, the guard keeping close watch outside.
Meanwhile the conduct of C. B. came under strong discussion. No one attempted to suggest that he had acted wrongly, for all were agreed that it was a matter of deepest thankfulness to God that he had arrived so opportunely and acted as promptly as he had done, and yet there was something disquieting, not merely to the community, but to himself, in the fact that he had given way to such an outburst of savagery. And all felt how terrible a thing it would have been if he had slain either or both of the villains, as he would most likely have done had he carried a weapon. He attempted no justification, showed no repentance for his action, but frankly admitted that he was horrified to find that he had so much of the savage in him. And strange as it may seem, though all looked upon him as quite a hero, it is no less true that with their admiration was mingled another feeling which they could not conceal, a feeling which made them hold themselves slightly aloof from him and the sense of which cut him to the quick.
This, added to his previous unrest of spirit, decided him in his half-formed idea of leaving the island at the first opportunity and seeing the world. There was just a trace of bitterness in the thought that his resolution should have been fixed by an event of which he could not but feel proud, and could not help thinking should have made all his acquaintances proud of him too. But there it was, and no amount of meditation or self-examination would avail to alter it. So at the earliest opportunity when he was alone with his parents he told them of his resolve. For a few minutes neitherspoke, and then his still beautiful mother broke the silence, saying—
“Have you consulted the Lord about it, dear boy?”
“Yes, mother,” he replied truly, “but I have not asked for any guidance in the matter, for I feel, I have long felt, led to go. And I don’t believe that such a strong inclination as I have towards something that certainly is not wrong can be of the evil one. Besides it is not my own pleasure I am seeking, neither am I tired of my lovely home, but—well, I must go, that’s all.”
Thereafter his father and mother regarded the matter as settled, only mother like, Grace hoped that it might be a long time before an opportunity came—she wanted to keep her boy as long as possible. But it fell out that only a fortnight afterwards an extraordinary event for the islanders occurred: two vessels arrived off the landing place in one day and hove-to, one the British war-vesselThetis, and the other the American whale-shipEliza Adams, of New Bedford. Joyfully the boats’ crews sprang into their craft and pulled out to the vessels, one visiting the man-o’-war to convey the respects of the whole community to the representative of the country they loved so well, and the other, steered by C. B., to the whale-ship to inquire after their wants.
As soon as Philip, who was in charge of the first boat, had climbed on board and had saluted the deck, he inquired for the captain, and first, in time-honoured fashion, begged him to consider the resources of the island at his disposal and to do them the honour of paying them a visit to the shore in their boat. The captain having gravely accepted the latter invitation and declared his intention ofpaying for whatever produce they might supply, Philip informed him that they had a favour to ask which they earnestly hoped he would see his way to grant, and then proceeded to tell him the story of their undesirable visitors, assuring him that the peace of the island had been destroyed since their arrival, and that now matters were worse than ever, since the miscreants must needs be watched day and night lest they should escape and do some fiendish deed in revenge, adding that on their own showing they were capable of any villainy. The captain listened patiently, and as soon as Philip had done talking replied in cheery tones—
“Make your mind easy, Mr. Adams; it’s not only a pleasure to grant your request to take these scoundrels off your hands, but my duty. I have been officially warned of their escape by the authorities and told to look out for them, and I shall be only too glad to rid you of them.”
Philip thanked the captain and requested the loan of a couple of pairs of handcuffs, saying that he would not put the captain to the trouble of sending a boat for them but would bring them off. The captain immediately assented, and in five minutes’ time the boat was flying shoreward with the captain and two of his officers seated in the stern sheets, quite glad of the opportunity afforded them of visiting this wonderful little community whose fame as a model settlement had spread all over the English-speaking world.
But the joy of the islanders who can depict, when Philip told them of their approaching deliverance from the misery under which they had laboured. Do not think them selfish or unmindful of their obligations to their fellow-men because they wereglad to get rid of these undesirables. Had the latter been amenable to kindness or at all to be influenced by goodness so palpably manifested towards them, things would have been quite different. Every effort had been made, more by practice even than precept, to soften those flinty natures, but all such attempts had been met by the most brutal and hideous language as well as threats, of diabolical revenge if ever the chance came. It delighted those foul creatures to see the islanders wince at the awful words and blanch at what they were by no means inclined to regard empty threats, although it was happily impossible for them to realize fully the significance of some of the worst of them.
Most of the islanders were on the strand ready to welcome the captain of theThetiswhen he stepped ashore, and he and his officers were reverentially borne off to the magistrate’s house, and offered the best that the island afforded in the way of refreshments. On the way thither the news flew from lip to lip that they were to be freed from the prisoners, and the air resounded with songs of thanksgiving. Being a man of prompt action, Captain Thurston, as soon as he was comfortably installed at the magistrate’s, asked for the two prisoners to be brought before him, and as soon as the handcuffs had been put upon them his wish was obeyed.
When they were brought he addressed them in French, but was answered by a flood of foulest abuse, language that made even his tanned cheek flush and his hand seek the sword at his side. But he quickly mastered his rising temper and ordered them to be taken away and held in readiness for carrying on board. Turning to his host, he said quietly—
“I think you are to be congratulated in that you have escaped serious injury at the hands of these ruffians, for I don’t think they would hesitate to commit any crime that lay within their power if the fit seized them.”
To which the dear old man made answer—
“We have never ceased thanking God for that He saved us from such a calamity as that would have been, and we have now the answer to our prayers that He would send a British man-o’-war to take them away from our midst lest our vigilance should relax and they break out among us like two ravening wolves in a flock of sheep.”
But we must return to C. B. on his separate mission to the whaler. As he swung his boat around and came alongside of her in true whaling fashion he was conscious that all hands were watching him, from the four pairs of keen eyes at the mastheads to the captain on top of the little monkey poop. But he was well trained and in no way shy, so he swung himself on board, being met by the mate and greeted cordially. All hands were gathered in the waist, separate, of course, according to their station, and admiring glances were cast upon their magnificent young visitor, who towered nearly a head and shoulders over the tallest man there. His simple garb of shirt and trousers, the former buttonless and with sleeves cut off above the elbow, and the latter rolled up to the knees, set off his splendid proportions to the best advantage, while his noble head, bare save for clustering curls, and with a face of rare open beauty, apparently fascinated every one there.
The mate in particular was almost stupefied, but pulled himself together quickly, saying—
“Come aft, young man, an’ see th’ capt’n;we’re in want of fresh provisions, an’ we hope that there war canoe won’t scoff the hull amount befo’ we can get a look in.”
C. B. turned on him a dazzling smile, showing two perfect rows of teeth as white as curd and remarked—
“That isn’t our fashion, sir. Whatever we have to dispose of, be sure you shall have your share of it. I will guarantee that.”
The mate muttered something which sounded like “Sure enough white man, any way;” and, confronted with the skipper, introduced the visitor.
Captain Taber was a man whose aspect alone was sufficient to win confidence from any one not absolutely beyond the pale. He was one of the grand old Quaker type who dare do anything but lie or cheat, inflexibly just but tenderly merciful also where mercy was not a cruelty. You could not look into those deep grey eyes and mistrust him, the firm curves of the closely shut mouth and the huge benevolent nose spelt good man in characters that those who ran might read. He wore the old typical Yankee beard with clean shaven upper lip, and his garb was a long grey coat and broad-brimmed grey felt hat. Grasping his visitor firmly by the hand, he said, “Welcome, young man, aboard th’Eliza Adams. I’m glad to see you, and indeed it isn’t every day one’s eyes light upon so fine a specimen o’ mankind as you be. Now what ha’ ye got to trade? We’re in want of fresh provisions of all kinds if you can make the price to suit us.”
“If you have ever been here before or to Pitcairn, captain,” replied C. B., “you’ll know that dollars mean nothing to us. Clothing, dress material, tools and books, are our chief need, and we arealways prepared to deal liberally with everybody or not at all. We may not be able to supply you as amply as we would like to-day because of the arrival of the warship, but as I told your mate, we shall show the strictest impartiality in dividing what we have to sell.”
For a moment the captain gazed at C. B. in silence, and then turning to his mate, said—
“Say, Mr. Winsloe, it ain’t often you find the contents match the casket, is it? But here’s a feller ez handsom’ as a statoo, an’ talkin’ like an angel. Well, he’s a phenomenon.” Then, turning to C. B., the old man said—
“Excuse me, I forgot my manners; you see we don’t come across men like you every day.”
C. B. smiled shyly and answered, “It’s all right, sir, I was hardly noticing. In fact, I was just then thinking of asking you whether by any chance you might have a vacancy aboard for a boat-steerer?” The skipper’s face was a study as he stood transfixed with astonishment and then burst into a roar of happy laughter, while the big tears ran down his russet cheeks. When at last he recovered his breath he gasped—
“Well, now, if that don’t beat all. Ben short of a harponeer goin’ on three months since poor Diego got chawed up, and here’s one ready made for us, that is if he can handle an iron like he can a steer-oar. Can ye now by any happy chance?” he inquired almost wistfully of the young man.
“If you’ll let me try, sir, with one of the irons in the waist-boat I’ll show you,” replied C. B.
The skipper nodded assent, and C. B., shouting to one of his boat’s crew to throw him up the baling gourd, sprang into the waist-boat with it, and when he had bent on a lance warp or short line to aharpoon he flung the gourd well away from the ship into the sea. Then poising the heavy weapon he balanced himself for a moment, a perfect model for a sculptor, and hurled it at the tiny object. The harpoon described a regular parabola and fell, splitting the gourd in half, while an involuntary cheer went up from the crew.
“That’s as good as I want,” muttered the skipper, and then aloud to C. B.: “Had any experience on whale?”
“Oh yes, sir,” brightly responded the young man, “we do considerable whaling here. In fact, we’ve got about thirty barrels of humpback oil here now; we’d be glad to trade with you if we can come to terms.”
“All right,” returned the captain, “we’ll talk about that later; the thing now is to get you. Half the cruise is over, that is I can engage you for about two years at the fiftieth lay and three hundred dollars a ton for sperm oil, market price for black. An’ if you’re willin’, I’ll put you on the articles now.”
“I came principally for that purpose,” replied C. B. with sincerity, and within ten minutes he was enrolled as captain’s boat-steerer of the shipEliza Adams, presently cruising for sperm whales in the Pacific Ocean with some twenty-two months of her voyage to serve.
I cannot say that C. B. felt excited or uplifted at this accomplishment of his desires, but he certainly felt that satisfaction which arises from the banishment of uncertainty, and with a contented face he took his position in his boat again ready to pilot the skipper in, who was lowering his own boat. A very few words sufficed to convey to his friends in the boat the news of his step, but they were enough to reduce the warm-hearted fellows totears. For the departure of any one from that happy community, where all were related and where all were friends, was looked upon by everybody in the nature of a personal bereavement, and indeed was considered much more serious than death, because when any one died those remaining really believed that the departed one had entered into a far happier state of life than could be possible on earth, and that sorrow for them was unnatural and wrong.
But no word was spoken as they sped towards the beach, the seasoned hands in the skipper’s boat straining every nerve to keep up with them. A bit of skilful piloting was needed, but the skipper was an old hand at surf boating, and handled his boat with consummate skill. And as soon as she touched the beach there were twenty willing hands ready to grab her and run her up until the wave receded, when all hands jumped out and assisted to drag her high and dry.
In five minutes the news had spread to every member of the community that C. B. was going away, and great were the lamentations. Indeed, it was fortunate that the captain of theThetisdemanded their attention as he had to hurry away, as that took the edge off somewhat. C. B.’s boat with a fresh crew was requisitioned to carry off the huge load of fresh fruit, meat and vegetables that had been collected, while the captain with the two desperadoes would go off in a boat free from a hampering load of provisions. Glad as they were to get rid of the terrible creatures that had worried them so long, and also that they had been of service to a man-o’-war, there were few of the usual demonstrations as the boats pushed off, for their hearts were very heavy at the loss of C. B., in spite of all they had felt lately.
Now that this momentous time in our hero’s life had arrived, all the affection felt for him by every member of the community welled up, and the slight reserve, manifested in spite of all efforts to hide it, because of his furious onslaught upon the savage strangers, melted away, leaving not a trace behind. He was hardly left alone a minute; both men and women crowded around him as if eager to see everything they could of him as long as they could. Many of the girls wept copiously, for he had been secretly worshipped by a goodly number of them, although he was quite fancy free, and had never singled one out for special notice. He might have been affianced to any girl he chose, for he possessed all the qualities that make a man beloved, but by some curious twist, the delights of love for the other sex had never appealed to him—as yet the love of one Christian for another, fostered by the love of God as it should be, had been found all sufficient for the needs of his heart.
At all this display of affection Captain Taber looked on amazed, for he had never seen anything like it before. In his experience people were shy of showing how much they loved a popular favourite, but these simple children of the sun believed in showing their love and were in no wise ashamed of doing so. He kept close by C. B.’s mother, whoexercised a sort of fascination over him, and in response to her repeated entreaties that he would be good to her boy, replied—
“My dear lady, for lady you are of the greatest, I regard your son as a holy trust. He’s just the finest man to look at and hear speak I ever set eyes on, and as far as I am concerned, you may take it that he’ll do well. I have no favourites; as long as a man does his duty on board my ship he’s entitled to and gets the best treatment I can give him, and I take care that he isn’t put upon by anybody. But be comforted, marm, your son’s bound to make his way anywhere. He’ll get imposed upon, of course, until he learns that people such as you are very scarce outside this island. But that won’t do him much harm, I take it. Hallo! what’s this?”
Thiswas the gathering together of the entire population of the island, including the temporary visitors, upon an open grassy knoll almost in the centre of the settlement, which was quite near to where Captain Taber and Grace were standing. As the people disposed themselves in picturesque attitudes upon the grass, Grace said to the captain—
“They are about to hold a prayer meeting to commend my son to the care of God while he is absent from us. We always do it when any one leaves the island, for we know how lonely they will feel but for the fellowship of Jesus.”
The captain bowed his head gravely, but did not trust himself to say anything. For one thing he felt sad and ashamed, knowing how careless and lax in respect to spiritual things he had long been, although his innate kindliness and sweet temper had preserved him from much evil.
The captain of theThetisdrew near and exchangeda cordial handshake with his American compeer, saying as he did so—
“We are apparently about to witness a peculiar sight—a whole people at prayer who all believe in what they’re doing. It is a moving spectacle.”
There was no time for more conversation, for all had arrived, and without further delay the white-haired old patriarch took up his parable, saying to his assembled flock—
“My beloved ones, let us in accordance with our valued custom commend our brother Christmas Bounty Adams to our loving Father. He goes out from us for a time into a world where we have heard that the name of God is lightly esteemed, where the worship of God is performed at stated intervals, but the life that has God for its centre and circumference is known to and lived by but a very few. But our God is able to keep our dear brother as he kept Philip his father, and we send him away full of confidence that he will live so as to show every one with whom he comes in contact that he is a Christ’s man and that it is a good and pleasant thing to be so. Now let us sing our favourite hymn, ‘O God of Bethel, by whose Hand.’”
The two captains turned pale under their tan, and their frames trembled with emotion as the glorious burst of human melody, unaided by any instrument, rose upon the still air. Never had they imagined anything like it, nor could they hardly believe their eyes when they saw the tears streaming down nearly every face. And when at last the sweet strains ceased, it seemed as if a certain beauty had suddenly left the world. Then the grand old leader’s voice arose in tenderest, most intimate intercourse with their Friend and Father. Nothing of the stereotyped, pumped-uporation, utterly misnamed prayer, so often heard in pseudo prayer meetings, but the close confidence of beloved children with a Father whose love was known and proved hourly throughout life. When he had finished, Philip stood up in touching simplicity and blessed God for his son’s strength and beauty and good life, held him up in his spiritual arms as it were, and gave him to the Father as Abraham did Isaac. Grace followed in an even deeper, sweeter strain, and then as her voice faltered and died away, as if at a preconcerted signal, all the gathering broke out in the majestic strains of St. Ann’s to “O God, our help in ages past,” followed immediately by the Old Hundredth.
The two captains were close together all the time, but neither spoke, hardly breathed, so impressed were they by the simple yet tremendous scene. When all was over, Captain Taber said sententiously—
“This just lays over all my experience. I’ve been to camp meetin’s before now and they begun quiet enough, but before they got far there was mor’en half of ’em just crazy, jumping mad, howlin’ and screechin’ like ’sif they was possessed with devils, as the Scripture says. But these folks seems full of earnestness, yet quiet and reverent all the time.”
“Yes,” responded the British captain, “though I’ve never been to a camp meeting, I’ve been to some other meetings in England where the behaviour of the folks has made me blush all over my body. And then again I’ve been to other meetings where everything was so formal and perfunctory that I could not think that any of them believed what they were saying or what they were hearing.”
Just then the old patriarch came up and claimedhis guest, the British captain, but the latter said that he must rejoin his ship at once if the stuff was ready that he had purchased. He was amazed to find that during his stay ashore one heavy boatload had already been taken aboard, inquiring as he did so if his two passengers were ready and he would see them put on board. They were brought along helpless to hurt anybody, but using their foul tongues to their full power. The captain had serious thoughts of gagging them, but exercised his patience, remembering that once in the cells on board of his ship they might curse themselves dumb and hurt nobody’s ears.
So he departed, never to forget that visit and never to be forgotten by the people whom he had relieved, and in an hour’s time theThetisturned on her heel and sped seaward on her way to Sydney. Then came C. B.’s turn. All his farewells were said, his exceedingly scanty wardrobe was packed in a mat, and all being snugly stowed in the whaleship’s boat, he, at the captain’s request, took the steer oar, while willing, loving hands ran the boat out on the crest of a departing roller and, the oars being handled with the usual skill, she shot out into the smooth beyond, amidst a chorus of farewells rapidly growing fainter as she receded.
Reaching the ship the ample load of fresh provisions was taken aboard with the usual smartness, and the boat hoisted into her place, while the new-comer gazed with keenest interest as the sails were trimmed and the ship filled away. For it must be remembered that for all his skill in handling a boat, whether under sail or oars, and his many visits to vessels, he had hitherto never been on board one of them while she was being handled, and consequently the whole business was of thenewest and strangest to him. And here I must say that in all my conversations with landsmen about the sea life, I have ever found it one of the hardest tasks to explain that even the most experienced sailors, upon first going on board ship, have some considerable difficulty in becoming acquainted with her details. To the untrained eye she may look precisely the same as the ship our sailor has just left, but to the man who has to find in the blackest depth of night the gear about the deck by means of which the sails high over head are worked, there are certain to be many acute differences leading to much blundering and botherment until he gets used to them.
But this is very technical and needs much more space than can be spared to elucidate it properly, and even then I doubt very much whether the result would be considered worth while. So I fall back upon the fact that C. B., grand fellow as he undoubtedly was, stood and looked at what was going on, as theEliza Adams’yards were trimmed for standing off to sea, with a sense of utter bewilderment, which went far to dispel the admiration that his fine physique had excited among the crew in the morning—especially among his fellows, the other harponeers, who were all Portuguese, all full of enthusiasm for their business as well as of skill in carrying it on, but absolutely destitute of the finer feelings of humanity, ruthless and cruel beyond belief, and only restrained from excesses among their boats’ crews while on a whale by a wholesome respect for the strong man who ruled them.
These men bore no good will towards C. B. as a stranger and an interloper, and besides, they were jealous of the favour with which the skipper regarded him. Therefore, when he exhibited his ignorance ofthe handling of the ship, they were unrestrained in their jeering at him, and used their coarse limited English to its full extent in letting him see how they regarded him. But he only looked at them thoughtfully and wondered why they thus spoke to him, seeing that he had not offended them in any way as far as he could tell. And then the ship being fairly on her course for the south-east the mate, Mr. Winsloe, came to him and said—
“Now then, C. B., you had better see your quarters and make yourself acquainted with your shipmates. I can see you know but dern little about a ship, but I guess you’ll learn mighty quick. Come along.”
He led C. B. below to the narrow apartment on the port side where the harponeers, the carpenter and cooper, cook and steward lived together in a certain state, waited upon by a mulatto lad, and fed in precisely the same way as the captain and officers. Here Mr. Winsloe introduced him to the senior harponeer, a huge black Portuguese from Terceira, saying—
“Pepe, just take this chap in hand and show him the ropes. I believe he’s a boss whaleman, but a ship’s strange to him, and we want him to get used to her as soon as may be. And say”—here his voice dropped to a whisper—“just pass the word to the other fellows that there’s to be no fool hazing of this chap. He’s too good for it and we don’t want him spoiled. Besides, he’s quite up to acting ugly, and if he does and gets a knife between his ribs there’s going to be big trouble with the old man, an’ a joke ain’t worth all that.”
Fortunately C. B. heard nothing of this, but he noted the deep scowl on Pepe’s face as he replied—
“All right, sir. But you don’t ’spects me to look after him ’n keep d’other fellows from hazin’ ’im, do ye? Kaze if ye do I cain’t say as I thinks it far an’ reasonable, specially as he’s such a greenie.”
“Now, that’s enough er that guff, Pepe,” returned the mate warningly; “I know all about you and you know all about me.” Then turning to C. B. the mate went on—
“Now, young man, this is your home and this man is the boss of the show, not but what you’re all equal in theory; but there, you’ll find out what I mean quick enough, and I hope you’ll learn how to take a good-natured joke if you don’t know already.” And he departed on deck again, leaving the two men face to face.
For a while they eyed each other in silence, each apparently engaged in taking the other’s measure; but while C. B.’s gaze was full of kindly consideration, Pepe’s looked full of scowling hatred. At last Pepe muttered some foul remark and turned away somewhat discomfited. He could not understand the calm untroubled gaze, and he was far too good a judge of men not to know that the young giant that stood before him would be much too big a handful for even him to manage, big as he was, if it came to a rough and tumble. This in itself was enough to make him dislike the new-comer, for no man likes being suddenly deposed from a position of supremacy over his fellows.
Then the other harponeers came trooping down to supper, followed by the carpenter and cooper, who were both taciturn Down East Yankees of a good type, but, like most of their kind, utterly callous and godless, although splendid workmen and brave men. In the babel that ensued C. B. could not but notice that there were many blasphemousremarks levelled at him obliquely, although no one spoke to him direct. And this was in truth a fiery ordeal, seeing that he had never in his life heard anything of the kind except a few broken words that the two escaped prisoners used so freely, and they were scarcely intelligible to him. But far harder to bear than that, he noted with surprise, was the air of enmity aroused by his presence; he who was so sensitive that even the slight reserve manifested towards him after his outbreak in defence of his sister had cut him to the very soul.
But his father had warned him that he might expect something of the sort and that he must steel his heart against it, be strong to endure and rest in the Lord, like the three holy children before the king of Babylon. So he breathed an inward prayer for strength, and drawing up to a vacant place at the table, helped himself to some food. From life-long habit he bowed his head over his plate in thanks to the Giver for a moment, and there burst out a roar of harsh laughter. But this created a diversion, for the cooper growled—
“Shet up, ye heathen, an’ don’t jeer a better man than yerselves when he’s asking a blessin’. Doan’t ye take no notice of ’em, youngster; they don’t know no better.”
C. B. gave him a grateful glance and bravely attacked his food, having a perfectly healthy appetite, and the meal proceeded in silence. But when all hands lit pipes and corn cob cigarettes, the reek of the place immediately sickened him, and turning deathly pale he hurried on deck for air. The smell of the place, full as it was of the odours of stale oil, the smoke from the lamp and the effluvia of bilge-water, was bad enough to lungs that had alwaysbeen accustomed to pure air, and the added fumes of tobacco made the combination unbearable.
On deck it was beautiful; a strong breeze was blowing, and the sturdy ship under easy sail was making good way through the water. Under the brilliant moon the bold outlines of his island home were fast fading into indistinctness, and for all his high resolves he felt a pang as he thought of all that he had left and the unknown troubles he was going to meet. And then a deep kindly voice behind him said—
“Well, Mr. Man, feeling a bit homesick, are ye? That’ll wear off mighty sudden, but in the meantime you’ve got to have some clothes. Come down into the cuddy and I’ll fit ye up.”
It was the captain who had sought him out, knowing how easy it is for these islanders to get a chill when first leaving the genial climate of their home for the wide keenness of the sea, and knowing too how scantily his new recruit was provided with clothes. So together they went down into the little cabin, where, aided by the steward, Captain Taber produced a complete outfit of clothes including boots, which C. B. looked dubiously at and then shook his head merrily, saying—
“I’ve never had a boot on in my life, captain, and I’m afraid I shouldn’t be able to walk in them now.”
“True, my boy, I’d forgotten that,” laughed the skipper. “Well, we’ll cut the boots out, and now your account is twenty-two dollars, so you’d better pray for whale to enable you to pay off your score. Cart your dunnage below and get off to ye’er bunk, for I guess you’ve got the middle watch.”
C. B. gathered up his bundle of clothes and carried them to his berth, where he found several ofhis berth-mates had already turned in, but they were all smoking furiously. So he could only stay below long enough to get into some warm clothing, and then, feeling sick and silly, he climbed on deck again, a blanket on his arm, to seek a spot where he might sleep without fear of being suffocated. This experience of knowing not where to lay his head was totally unexpected by him, for it was the one thing his father had omitted to mention as being among the hardships of a seafaring life. And he began to wonder whether in all his career he should meet with anything harder to bear, being by nature a perfect lover of pure air.
However, he found a corner which struck him as being out of the way, and laid himself down upon the planks, drew the blanket over himself and commended himself to God, and like a perfectly healthy animal was almost immediately fast asleep. He was roughly aroused at midnight by one of the harponeers, who inquired caustically whether he thought he was going to be a passenger and have all night in. He at once sprang up and asked what his duties were, but his interlocutor turned away with a mocking laugh, muttering—
“Ef yew fink Ise goin’ t’ be yer nuss yous way off.”
So he went aft, where his instinct told him he should find the officer of the watch, and when he discovered that functionary, a thickset taciturn Yankee from Providence, Rhode Island, he courteously asked him if he might be told what to do. Mr. Spurrell gave a snort, being in a middle-watch humour, but he was a man of the most inflexible justice, and his leading principle compelled him to answer the honest question straightforwardly, instead of as so often happens overwhelming the novice with contumely for asking. Heinformed C. B. that his only duty was to keep on the alert, going forward occasionally to see if the lookout was being properly kept by the man, and if any sail-trimming had to be done to try and master the details of it, the how and why, so that presently in case of an emergency he might be able to take the watch himself.
C. B. thanked the officer gravely, and then, a happy thought striking him, asked if he might put in his first watch on deck learning to steer the ship. Steering a boat he was as we know an adept at, but using a ship’s wheel and compass is a very different matter, and he was unwilling to remain ignorant of anything for a moment longer than was necessary for him to learn it. Fortunately there was an able Kanaka from Samoa at the wheel, who spoke reasonably understandable English and was delighted to show C. B. all he knew. Thus it came about that at four bells, that is at the end of the Samoan’s trick at the wheel, C. B. could steer almost as well as his teacher. For there are some men born helmsmen, who learn with astounding ease and rapidity, others who to the last day of their lives never seem to be able to keep a ship, a sailing ship that is, anywhere near her course. Of course steering steamships is, like so many other things at sea in steamers, a purely mechanical process, and if a man does not do it well it argues that he is careless or lazy or both.
The wind held steady, so that the new-comer had no opportunity of learning anything about sail handling this watch, but it had passed away very rapidly and pleasantly, and when eight bells struck C. B. felt more contented than he had been since coming on board. Also he recognized how much he would have to learn, and was correspondinglyeager to get on with that learning. But now he had to face the hole below, for the work of cleansing the ship for the day was beginning, theEliza Adamsbeing, like all those old-time south-seamen from New England, kept as spick and span as any yacht, quite contrary to generally accepted notions, and also in great contrast to the condition in which our English whalers used to be allowed to remain.
The foul atmosphere caught him by the throat as he entered, but he set his teeth and persevered, climbing into his bunk and lying there suffering until he went off into an almost drugged slumber. From this he was aroused at seven bells, 7.20 a.m., to breakfast, which was good and plentiful; but he was not able to eat a morsel, and had to rush on deck for relief. As soon as he appeared the captain saw him, and immediately noticed that there was something wrong with him. Calling him, the skipper inquired in kindly fashion after his health, and on being told what was the matter, raised his eyebrows wonderingly, for the complaint was new to him. And indeed it is nothing short of miraculous to me how men could live at all in such foul dens, reeking with stench and disease-laden air as they were. But of course the poisoning process did not go on long enough to kill, and the strong pure air of heaven when they came on deck soon acted as an antidote to the evil in the blood. A greater mystery still is the way in which our peasantry deliberately choose thus to poison themselves. Working all day in the strong pure breath of the fields, they will go to their cottages and, in company with a large family, close up every cranny whereby a little fresh air can creep in, and soak in that foul fug until the morning. Ugh!