Chapter Eighteen.

Chapter Eighteen.Mr Scott accompanied me to the house of the Resident, that I might state my case; and on our way we met Captain Cloete, who volunteered to join us. The Resident received me most kindly, and promised to do all in his power to facilitate my object. He said that strict enquiries should be made on board all vessels coming to the port, whether a brig answering the description of theEmuhad been met with; and he also engaged that the same inquiries should be made in Batavia and throughout all the ports belonging to the Dutch.I was much indebted to the influence of my friends, and the warm interest they took in me, and for the alacrity displayed by the Resident; but I felt that this was no reason why I should in any way relax in my own exertions. The schooner could not be got ready for sea in less than three weeks, in spite of all Fairburn’s exertions; and I considered how I could best employ the time to forward my object. It must not be supposed that I had forgotten the widow Van Deck and little Maria. Fairburn and I had still our duty to perform, in seeing them placed in safety with their friends; but as his presence was essential in attending to the fitting out of the vessel, I resolved to undertake the office of their conductor, having already engaged to pay their expenses. They were both now sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey up the country, to a place where an uncle of the widow resided, as Assistant Resident.I was, however, very unwilling to leave Sourabaya in the chance of obtaining any further news of theEmu, and had hopes of being able to send to their relations to induce some one to come down and receive them, when the point was decided for me. The heat and excitement of the town was already telling on me, and Mr Scott made me consult a medical man, who urged me at once to go up to the highlands of the interior, to regain my strength before I went to sea.The widow Van Deck expressed herself much satisfied with the arrangement, and very grateful for the care taken of her, while little Maria seemed highly delighted at finding that I was to accompany them on the journey. Captain Cloete’s first lieutenant, Mr Jeekel, also arranged to join the party, of which I was very glad, as he was a very well informed man, and a most amusing companion. We engaged a carriage, with two inside seats for the widow and Maria, and two outside for Mr Jeekel and me. Mr Scott kindly urged me to take care of myself and get well. Fairburn promised to get on with the schooner’s outfitting; and just as we were starting, Captain Cloete came and put a sum of money into the hands of the widow.“There,” he said, “sailors should always help each other; so I and a few other friends have collected that little sum to defray the expenses of your journey; so that you need not feel yourself a burden to your young friend here, while you will have something in your purse when you present yourself to your relatives.”The tears came into the widow’s eyes as she received this unexpected kindness, and her feelings almost checked her expressions of thanks.The evening before our departure, as I was sitting with the widow and little Maria, the former observed—“You may be surprised, Mr Seaworth, at my thinking it necessary to give you so much trouble about my return to my relations; but I must confess to you that I offended them very much by marrying Captain Van Deck, whom they looked upon as my inferior in rank, and I am full of doubts as to my reception. Had he been alive, I should not have ventured to return; but now that he is in his grave, I trust that their anger may be softened. I have no one else to depend on. I cannot obtain my own livelihood; but they would not, I trust, allow a relation to beg in the streets. If they will once receive me, I hope, by my conduct, to gain their affection, which before I married I did not, through my own fault, possess; and I therefore do not in any way complain of their treatment of me. I have had, I assure you, a great struggle with the rebellious spirit within me; but I have conquered, and am happier even than I ever expected to be.” In reply, I assured her that I thought her relations would, after she had spent a little time with them, rejoice at her return; for in the frame of mind to which she had brought herself, I felt sure she would very soon gain their regard; and I thought that little Maria could not fail of attaching to herself every one who knew her.I have not space to afford a full account of our journey. Indeed, I cannot do more than give the general result of my observations. We had passports, without which we could not have proceeded; and we were obliged to obtain leave from each Resident to pass through his district. We had four good little horses; and for many miles proceeded along the plain, on a fine broad hard road, raised two or three feet above the level of the country. The post houses are about six miles apart, and at each of them there is a large wooden shed, stretching completely across the road, to shelter the horses and travellers from the sun while the horses are changed. The country, as we proceeded, became very rich and highly cultivated; and between the groves of cocoa-nuts and areca palms, and other trees, which bordered the road, we got glimpses of a fine range of mountains, which increased its interest. The crops were sugar-cane, and maize and rice. The rice-fields are divided into many small plats or pans, about ten yards square, with ridges of earth eighteen inches high, for the purpose of retaining the water, which is kept two or three inches deep over the roots of the grain, till it is just ready to ripen. A number of little sheds stood in the fields, with a boy or girl stationed in each, who kept moving a collection of strings, radiating in every direction, with feathers attached to them, for the purpose of keeping off the flights of those beautiful little birds, called Java sparrows, hovering above. From these plots the rice, or paddy, as it is called, is transplanted into the fields, each plant being set separately. How our English farmers would stare at the idea of transplanting some hundred acres of wheat! Yet these savages, as they would call them, set them this worthy example of industry. We passed a market crowded with people. There were long sheds, in some of which were exposed European articles, such as cutlery and drapery; in others, drugs or salt-fish, or fruit and confectionery; while at some open stalls the visitors were regaling themselves with coffee, boiled rice, hot meat, potatoes, fruit, and sweetmeats. We stopped at a large town on the coast, called Probolingo, where there was an excellent hotel. There was also a square in it, with a mosque on one side, the house of the Resident on another, a range of barracks on the third, and a good market-place, where I saw piles of magnificent melons, for which the neighbourhood is celebrated. It is a place of some trade; and we were told that there were in the storehouses coffee and sugar sufficient to load twenty large ships. Broad roads, bordered by fine trees, with native villages, and large European houses, surround the town.As we continued our journey on the following day, we began to meet with coffee plantations, which are neatly fenced in, and consist of some twenty acres each. They are pleasant-looking spots, as the shrubs are planted in rows, with tall trees between each row to shelter them from the sun. Sometimes, too, we came upon a species of Banian tree, a noble, wide-spreading tree, with drooping branches, under which might be seen a waggon laden with paddy, and a group of people with their oxen resting by its side. I remarked that coffee was carried in large hampers on the backs of ponies. We used to lunch sometimes at the bamboo provision stalls, under the shade of tall trees near the kampongs, where we found hot tea and coffee, sweet potatoes, rice cakes, and a kind of cold rice pudding.The Javanese delight in a sort of summer-house, which is called a pondap; it is built to the height of sixteen feet or so on stout pillars, with a raised floor, and covered with a thatch made of the leaves of the palm. It is open at the sides, except a railing of netting three feet high, and sometimes blinds of split cane are rolled up under the eaves, and can be let down to exclude the sun or rain.I must describe a “passangerang,” or guest-house, at several of which we stopped for the night. It was a large bamboo-house, standing on a raised terrace of brick, and with a broad verandah running all round it. There was a centre hall to serve as the grand saloon, and several well-furnished bedrooms on either side. The view was very beautiful. The ground on every side undulated agreeably: on one side it sloped down to a shining lake, bordered by a thick belt of wood, with a silvery brook escaping from a narrow ravine, foaming and leaping into it; while beyond arose the stately cone of the burning mountain of the Lamongan, some four thousand feet in height, a wreath of white smoke curling from its summit, from its base a green slope stretched off to the right, whence, some twenty miles distant, shot up still more majestically the lofty cone of the Semiru, a peak higher than that of Teneriffe; then, again, another irregular ridge ran away to the north, among which is the volcano of the Bromo. On another side could be seen the sea gleaming in the far distant horizon, while over all the country near was a lovely variety of cultivated fields, and patches of wood, and slopes of thealang-alang, a long green grass with a very broad leaf, and here and there a native kampong half concealed by its groves of fruit-trees. Everything, both in form and colour, looked beautiful as it glittered in the hot sunshine, while a fresh breeze from the south tempered the heat, and reminded me of a summer day in England. A table was spread in the verandah with a snow white tablecloth, and all the conveniences of glass, plate, and cutlery, and covered with dishes of poultry, and meats, and rice, and curries, pilaus, and soups, all well cooked, with attendants doing their best to please us.Little Maria was enchanted—she had seen nothing in her life before like it; and all the sickness and perils she had gone through were forgotten. Lieutenant Jeekel and I were much pleased also; and had I not had my important enterprise in view, I should have liked to have spent many days there. As we strolled out in the evening at dusk, we found two men following us with spears; and when we inquired the reason of their attendance, they said that they came to defend us from tigers. We laughed at this, but they assured us that tigers were very abundant, and that they often carried off men to eat them, and sometimes even came into the houses when hard pressed by hunger. No one will venture out at night without torches to keep them at a distance. We afterwards found that their fears were not exaggerated, for a man from a village close to us going out to work before daybreak was carried off by a tiger from between two companions, who in vain endeavoured to save him. After this we took care not to expose ourselves to the chance of forming a supper for a tiger. The next evening I was nearly stepping on a snake, the bite of which is said to be certain death. I mention these circumstances merely to show that, fertile as is the country and magnificent the scenery, it has its drawbacks. While we were in the high country, it rained generally from two till four o’clock, and then the weather became as fine as ever. It always rained in earnest, and never have I seen more downright heavy pours. The inhabitants of the mountains are far superior in stature and independence of manners to those of the plains. Their houses are, however, inferior in many respects; they are built of planks roughly split from trees with a wedge, while their posts are formed of the camarina equally roughly squared. The roof is composed of reeds or shingles. The interior consists of but one room, with a square fireplace of brick at one end, and seats round it; the bed-places of the family are on either side; and overhead are racks to hold spears and agricultural instruments, the whole blackened with the constant smoke, which has no other outlet besides the door and window. The houses of the peasantry on the plains are composed almost entirely of bamboo; the posts and beams of the stoutest pieces of that plant, and the walls of split bamboo woven into mats, the roof being covered with leaves of thehissahpalm.We were now approaching the end of our journey, and the widow began to be very nervous as to the reception she was likely to meet with from her relations. The lieutenant, especially, tried to keep up her spirits; and it appeared to me, whatever the arguments he used, that he succeeded very well.I am afraid that, in my descriptions, I have not done full justice to the beauty of the scenery, the high state of cultivation of the country, the excessive politeness of the people—I might almost call it slavish, were not the natural impulses of the Javanese so kind—the luxurious provisions, the comfort of the passangerangs or guest-houses, the purity of the air, and the deliciousness of the climate of the hills. We did not encounter a beggar of any description, and we saw no people in a state of what could be called poverty; so, although the Dutch rule most despotically, this system apparently tends to secure the creature comforts of the lower orders. But, as I have already observed, it does no more—it regards these frail bodies, but totally neglects their immortal souls.One day we turned off from the high road, and took a path apparently but little used, as it was a complete carpet of short green turf, which led us across a gently undulating champaign country; passing now through patches of beautiful forest, now through open rice-fields or small plains of alang-alang. Here and there was a rocky isolated hill crowned with clumps of noble trees, while sparkling brooks and rills seemed to cool the air, while they refreshed our sight, their murmuring sound reaching constantly our ears. Many of the rills were artificial, leading from one rice field to another. The industrious inhabitants were guiding their ploughs or otherwise in their fields, while here and there a grove of fruit-trees, with cocoa-nuts, areca palms, and clusters of bamboos rising among them, showed the situation of the villages. Nearly surrounding this beautiful country swept a semicircle of magnificent mountains of the most picturesque description, one out-topping the other, while in the far distance the stately Semiru raised his lofty cone into the blue sky.As we had now arrived close to the residence of the widow’s relations, we thought it advisable to forward a letter, which the lieutenant undertook to write, giving an outline of what had occurred, and announcing our arrival. The letter was composed, but we were not quite satisfied with it; and at last our worthy friend volunteered to ride forward himself to prepare the way, suggesting that his rank, and his acquaintance with a large number of people, might have some little influence in softening matters. We in the meantime remained at the passangerang awaiting his return. Two hours passed away and he did not appear, and the widow began to be anxious; a third had elapsed, and no Lieutenant Jeekel was to be seen.“My uncle and his family are away, or he may be dead, or he will not listen to our friend,” sighed the widow.We were sitting in a sort of raised summer-house, in the shape of a tower, built of bamboo. From our elevated perch we commanded a view of the road.“No, I feel that I am discarded for ever, and must be content to live on the charity of strangers,” continued the widow, soliloquising. “For myself I care not; but for you, my sweet child, it is a hard lot.”“Do not vex yourself about me, my dear aunt,” answered little Maria. “But ah! see, who is that coming along the road?”We all looked out of the balcony, and observed two horsemen, with long spears glittering in the sun, advancing slowly towards us. A little beyond them was a larger party, one of whom was evidently a chief with his officers, from the turbans on their heads, their blue cloth jackets, and rich shawls round their waists, with highly ornamented krisses stuck in them; the blue and red cloth over their saddles, and the silver trappings to their horses. Two Europeans were with them: one we soon recognised as the lieutenant; the other, a middle-aged, gentlemanly-looking man, was a stranger to me; but the widow, as she watched him, exclaimed—“It is—yes, it must be my uncle!”The Javanese seemed to pay him great respect. He threw himself from his horse, which one of them held, and with the lieutenant ascended the stairs. On entering the room he hurried up to the widow, and to her no little surprise gave her a warm embrace.“Well, my dear niece, I am glad to hear from your friend here, that you placed reliance on the affection of your relatives,” he began, as he handed her to a chair in an affectionate manner. “Let the past be forgotten; and now let me ask you to make me known to the young gentleman who has acted so generously to you. Mr Seaworth, I understand.”Whereupon I shook hands, and made a suitable answer; and then little Maria was introduced, and we were all in a few minutes on the best terms possible. I thought Mr Jeekel’s eye twinkled, but he said nothing; and I was somewhat surprised, after all the difficulties we expected to experience, at the facility with which the reconciliation had been accomplished. But the cause was soon explained.“I conclude, my dear niece,” said her uncle to her on a sudden, “you have received due notice of the good fortune which has befallen you.”“No!” answered the widow, surprised, as well she might. “I have been prepared only for misfortunes. What do you mean?”“Allow me then to congratulate you sincerely,” he replied. “I have great satisfaction in being the first to announce to you that your great-uncle, M. Deikman, who died a year ago, has left you heiress to all his property, amounting to twenty thousand rupees a year; and you may at once take possession of it.”I will not stop to describe the contentment of the widow at her change of fortune, the joy of little Maria, and the satisfaction of the lieutenant. I spent four days at the house of her uncle, who was very attentive to me; and I need scarcely say that, when the time for my departure arrived, I was very sorry to leave her with the prospect of never again seeing her; and still more so my young friend Maria. I am happy to say that prosperity did not appear to have made the widow forget the good resolutions she had formed in adversity. She insisted on repaying me the money I had spent on her account; and I had reason afterwards to know that she was not ungrateful. It was arranged that Lieutenant Jeekel was to accompany me, and that we were to travel on horseback, by which mode we should be able to diverge oftener from the high road, and to see more of the country than we had been able to do coming. Little Maria cried very much as I wished her good-bye.“You are going away, and I shall never—never—see you again, my dear, dear Mr Seaworth!” she exclaimed, as she held my hands, and looked up affectionately into my face. “Now, promise me, if you succeed in finding your dear little Eva—and I am sure you will find her—that you will come back and show her to me. I so long to see her, and to love her, and to tell her how kind you have been to me. I will pray every night and morning that she may be restored to you, and that she may live to reward you for all your trouble in looking after her. You will promise then, my dear Mr Seaworth; I know you will.”“Indeed, I should be very sorry if I thought I was not to see you again,” I replied, completely won by her artless manner. “If I possibly can—if I am so blessed as to find my sister—I will come and introduce her to you.”With this answer the little girl was satisfied. At length we started. I had a very pleasant journey, and collected a great deal of information as to the manners and customs of the Javanese. We saw several tigers, and deer, and wild hogs, and monkeys innumerable, and snakes and other reptiles; but had no adventure worth recording, and reached Sourabaya in safety.

Mr Scott accompanied me to the house of the Resident, that I might state my case; and on our way we met Captain Cloete, who volunteered to join us. The Resident received me most kindly, and promised to do all in his power to facilitate my object. He said that strict enquiries should be made on board all vessels coming to the port, whether a brig answering the description of theEmuhad been met with; and he also engaged that the same inquiries should be made in Batavia and throughout all the ports belonging to the Dutch.

I was much indebted to the influence of my friends, and the warm interest they took in me, and for the alacrity displayed by the Resident; but I felt that this was no reason why I should in any way relax in my own exertions. The schooner could not be got ready for sea in less than three weeks, in spite of all Fairburn’s exertions; and I considered how I could best employ the time to forward my object. It must not be supposed that I had forgotten the widow Van Deck and little Maria. Fairburn and I had still our duty to perform, in seeing them placed in safety with their friends; but as his presence was essential in attending to the fitting out of the vessel, I resolved to undertake the office of their conductor, having already engaged to pay their expenses. They were both now sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey up the country, to a place where an uncle of the widow resided, as Assistant Resident.

I was, however, very unwilling to leave Sourabaya in the chance of obtaining any further news of theEmu, and had hopes of being able to send to their relations to induce some one to come down and receive them, when the point was decided for me. The heat and excitement of the town was already telling on me, and Mr Scott made me consult a medical man, who urged me at once to go up to the highlands of the interior, to regain my strength before I went to sea.

The widow Van Deck expressed herself much satisfied with the arrangement, and very grateful for the care taken of her, while little Maria seemed highly delighted at finding that I was to accompany them on the journey. Captain Cloete’s first lieutenant, Mr Jeekel, also arranged to join the party, of which I was very glad, as he was a very well informed man, and a most amusing companion. We engaged a carriage, with two inside seats for the widow and Maria, and two outside for Mr Jeekel and me. Mr Scott kindly urged me to take care of myself and get well. Fairburn promised to get on with the schooner’s outfitting; and just as we were starting, Captain Cloete came and put a sum of money into the hands of the widow.

“There,” he said, “sailors should always help each other; so I and a few other friends have collected that little sum to defray the expenses of your journey; so that you need not feel yourself a burden to your young friend here, while you will have something in your purse when you present yourself to your relatives.”

The tears came into the widow’s eyes as she received this unexpected kindness, and her feelings almost checked her expressions of thanks.

The evening before our departure, as I was sitting with the widow and little Maria, the former observed—“You may be surprised, Mr Seaworth, at my thinking it necessary to give you so much trouble about my return to my relations; but I must confess to you that I offended them very much by marrying Captain Van Deck, whom they looked upon as my inferior in rank, and I am full of doubts as to my reception. Had he been alive, I should not have ventured to return; but now that he is in his grave, I trust that their anger may be softened. I have no one else to depend on. I cannot obtain my own livelihood; but they would not, I trust, allow a relation to beg in the streets. If they will once receive me, I hope, by my conduct, to gain their affection, which before I married I did not, through my own fault, possess; and I therefore do not in any way complain of their treatment of me. I have had, I assure you, a great struggle with the rebellious spirit within me; but I have conquered, and am happier even than I ever expected to be.” In reply, I assured her that I thought her relations would, after she had spent a little time with them, rejoice at her return; for in the frame of mind to which she had brought herself, I felt sure she would very soon gain their regard; and I thought that little Maria could not fail of attaching to herself every one who knew her.

I have not space to afford a full account of our journey. Indeed, I cannot do more than give the general result of my observations. We had passports, without which we could not have proceeded; and we were obliged to obtain leave from each Resident to pass through his district. We had four good little horses; and for many miles proceeded along the plain, on a fine broad hard road, raised two or three feet above the level of the country. The post houses are about six miles apart, and at each of them there is a large wooden shed, stretching completely across the road, to shelter the horses and travellers from the sun while the horses are changed. The country, as we proceeded, became very rich and highly cultivated; and between the groves of cocoa-nuts and areca palms, and other trees, which bordered the road, we got glimpses of a fine range of mountains, which increased its interest. The crops were sugar-cane, and maize and rice. The rice-fields are divided into many small plats or pans, about ten yards square, with ridges of earth eighteen inches high, for the purpose of retaining the water, which is kept two or three inches deep over the roots of the grain, till it is just ready to ripen. A number of little sheds stood in the fields, with a boy or girl stationed in each, who kept moving a collection of strings, radiating in every direction, with feathers attached to them, for the purpose of keeping off the flights of those beautiful little birds, called Java sparrows, hovering above. From these plots the rice, or paddy, as it is called, is transplanted into the fields, each plant being set separately. How our English farmers would stare at the idea of transplanting some hundred acres of wheat! Yet these savages, as they would call them, set them this worthy example of industry. We passed a market crowded with people. There were long sheds, in some of which were exposed European articles, such as cutlery and drapery; in others, drugs or salt-fish, or fruit and confectionery; while at some open stalls the visitors were regaling themselves with coffee, boiled rice, hot meat, potatoes, fruit, and sweetmeats. We stopped at a large town on the coast, called Probolingo, where there was an excellent hotel. There was also a square in it, with a mosque on one side, the house of the Resident on another, a range of barracks on the third, and a good market-place, where I saw piles of magnificent melons, for which the neighbourhood is celebrated. It is a place of some trade; and we were told that there were in the storehouses coffee and sugar sufficient to load twenty large ships. Broad roads, bordered by fine trees, with native villages, and large European houses, surround the town.

As we continued our journey on the following day, we began to meet with coffee plantations, which are neatly fenced in, and consist of some twenty acres each. They are pleasant-looking spots, as the shrubs are planted in rows, with tall trees between each row to shelter them from the sun. Sometimes, too, we came upon a species of Banian tree, a noble, wide-spreading tree, with drooping branches, under which might be seen a waggon laden with paddy, and a group of people with their oxen resting by its side. I remarked that coffee was carried in large hampers on the backs of ponies. We used to lunch sometimes at the bamboo provision stalls, under the shade of tall trees near the kampongs, where we found hot tea and coffee, sweet potatoes, rice cakes, and a kind of cold rice pudding.

The Javanese delight in a sort of summer-house, which is called a pondap; it is built to the height of sixteen feet or so on stout pillars, with a raised floor, and covered with a thatch made of the leaves of the palm. It is open at the sides, except a railing of netting three feet high, and sometimes blinds of split cane are rolled up under the eaves, and can be let down to exclude the sun or rain.

I must describe a “passangerang,” or guest-house, at several of which we stopped for the night. It was a large bamboo-house, standing on a raised terrace of brick, and with a broad verandah running all round it. There was a centre hall to serve as the grand saloon, and several well-furnished bedrooms on either side. The view was very beautiful. The ground on every side undulated agreeably: on one side it sloped down to a shining lake, bordered by a thick belt of wood, with a silvery brook escaping from a narrow ravine, foaming and leaping into it; while beyond arose the stately cone of the burning mountain of the Lamongan, some four thousand feet in height, a wreath of white smoke curling from its summit, from its base a green slope stretched off to the right, whence, some twenty miles distant, shot up still more majestically the lofty cone of the Semiru, a peak higher than that of Teneriffe; then, again, another irregular ridge ran away to the north, among which is the volcano of the Bromo. On another side could be seen the sea gleaming in the far distant horizon, while over all the country near was a lovely variety of cultivated fields, and patches of wood, and slopes of thealang-alang, a long green grass with a very broad leaf, and here and there a native kampong half concealed by its groves of fruit-trees. Everything, both in form and colour, looked beautiful as it glittered in the hot sunshine, while a fresh breeze from the south tempered the heat, and reminded me of a summer day in England. A table was spread in the verandah with a snow white tablecloth, and all the conveniences of glass, plate, and cutlery, and covered with dishes of poultry, and meats, and rice, and curries, pilaus, and soups, all well cooked, with attendants doing their best to please us.

Little Maria was enchanted—she had seen nothing in her life before like it; and all the sickness and perils she had gone through were forgotten. Lieutenant Jeekel and I were much pleased also; and had I not had my important enterprise in view, I should have liked to have spent many days there. As we strolled out in the evening at dusk, we found two men following us with spears; and when we inquired the reason of their attendance, they said that they came to defend us from tigers. We laughed at this, but they assured us that tigers were very abundant, and that they often carried off men to eat them, and sometimes even came into the houses when hard pressed by hunger. No one will venture out at night without torches to keep them at a distance. We afterwards found that their fears were not exaggerated, for a man from a village close to us going out to work before daybreak was carried off by a tiger from between two companions, who in vain endeavoured to save him. After this we took care not to expose ourselves to the chance of forming a supper for a tiger. The next evening I was nearly stepping on a snake, the bite of which is said to be certain death. I mention these circumstances merely to show that, fertile as is the country and magnificent the scenery, it has its drawbacks. While we were in the high country, it rained generally from two till four o’clock, and then the weather became as fine as ever. It always rained in earnest, and never have I seen more downright heavy pours. The inhabitants of the mountains are far superior in stature and independence of manners to those of the plains. Their houses are, however, inferior in many respects; they are built of planks roughly split from trees with a wedge, while their posts are formed of the camarina equally roughly squared. The roof is composed of reeds or shingles. The interior consists of but one room, with a square fireplace of brick at one end, and seats round it; the bed-places of the family are on either side; and overhead are racks to hold spears and agricultural instruments, the whole blackened with the constant smoke, which has no other outlet besides the door and window. The houses of the peasantry on the plains are composed almost entirely of bamboo; the posts and beams of the stoutest pieces of that plant, and the walls of split bamboo woven into mats, the roof being covered with leaves of thehissahpalm.

We were now approaching the end of our journey, and the widow began to be very nervous as to the reception she was likely to meet with from her relations. The lieutenant, especially, tried to keep up her spirits; and it appeared to me, whatever the arguments he used, that he succeeded very well.

I am afraid that, in my descriptions, I have not done full justice to the beauty of the scenery, the high state of cultivation of the country, the excessive politeness of the people—I might almost call it slavish, were not the natural impulses of the Javanese so kind—the luxurious provisions, the comfort of the passangerangs or guest-houses, the purity of the air, and the deliciousness of the climate of the hills. We did not encounter a beggar of any description, and we saw no people in a state of what could be called poverty; so, although the Dutch rule most despotically, this system apparently tends to secure the creature comforts of the lower orders. But, as I have already observed, it does no more—it regards these frail bodies, but totally neglects their immortal souls.

One day we turned off from the high road, and took a path apparently but little used, as it was a complete carpet of short green turf, which led us across a gently undulating champaign country; passing now through patches of beautiful forest, now through open rice-fields or small plains of alang-alang. Here and there was a rocky isolated hill crowned with clumps of noble trees, while sparkling brooks and rills seemed to cool the air, while they refreshed our sight, their murmuring sound reaching constantly our ears. Many of the rills were artificial, leading from one rice field to another. The industrious inhabitants were guiding their ploughs or otherwise in their fields, while here and there a grove of fruit-trees, with cocoa-nuts, areca palms, and clusters of bamboos rising among them, showed the situation of the villages. Nearly surrounding this beautiful country swept a semicircle of magnificent mountains of the most picturesque description, one out-topping the other, while in the far distance the stately Semiru raised his lofty cone into the blue sky.

As we had now arrived close to the residence of the widow’s relations, we thought it advisable to forward a letter, which the lieutenant undertook to write, giving an outline of what had occurred, and announcing our arrival. The letter was composed, but we were not quite satisfied with it; and at last our worthy friend volunteered to ride forward himself to prepare the way, suggesting that his rank, and his acquaintance with a large number of people, might have some little influence in softening matters. We in the meantime remained at the passangerang awaiting his return. Two hours passed away and he did not appear, and the widow began to be anxious; a third had elapsed, and no Lieutenant Jeekel was to be seen.

“My uncle and his family are away, or he may be dead, or he will not listen to our friend,” sighed the widow.

We were sitting in a sort of raised summer-house, in the shape of a tower, built of bamboo. From our elevated perch we commanded a view of the road.

“No, I feel that I am discarded for ever, and must be content to live on the charity of strangers,” continued the widow, soliloquising. “For myself I care not; but for you, my sweet child, it is a hard lot.”

“Do not vex yourself about me, my dear aunt,” answered little Maria. “But ah! see, who is that coming along the road?”

We all looked out of the balcony, and observed two horsemen, with long spears glittering in the sun, advancing slowly towards us. A little beyond them was a larger party, one of whom was evidently a chief with his officers, from the turbans on their heads, their blue cloth jackets, and rich shawls round their waists, with highly ornamented krisses stuck in them; the blue and red cloth over their saddles, and the silver trappings to their horses. Two Europeans were with them: one we soon recognised as the lieutenant; the other, a middle-aged, gentlemanly-looking man, was a stranger to me; but the widow, as she watched him, exclaimed—

“It is—yes, it must be my uncle!”

The Javanese seemed to pay him great respect. He threw himself from his horse, which one of them held, and with the lieutenant ascended the stairs. On entering the room he hurried up to the widow, and to her no little surprise gave her a warm embrace.

“Well, my dear niece, I am glad to hear from your friend here, that you placed reliance on the affection of your relatives,” he began, as he handed her to a chair in an affectionate manner. “Let the past be forgotten; and now let me ask you to make me known to the young gentleman who has acted so generously to you. Mr Seaworth, I understand.”

Whereupon I shook hands, and made a suitable answer; and then little Maria was introduced, and we were all in a few minutes on the best terms possible. I thought Mr Jeekel’s eye twinkled, but he said nothing; and I was somewhat surprised, after all the difficulties we expected to experience, at the facility with which the reconciliation had been accomplished. But the cause was soon explained.

“I conclude, my dear niece,” said her uncle to her on a sudden, “you have received due notice of the good fortune which has befallen you.”

“No!” answered the widow, surprised, as well she might. “I have been prepared only for misfortunes. What do you mean?”

“Allow me then to congratulate you sincerely,” he replied. “I have great satisfaction in being the first to announce to you that your great-uncle, M. Deikman, who died a year ago, has left you heiress to all his property, amounting to twenty thousand rupees a year; and you may at once take possession of it.”

I will not stop to describe the contentment of the widow at her change of fortune, the joy of little Maria, and the satisfaction of the lieutenant. I spent four days at the house of her uncle, who was very attentive to me; and I need scarcely say that, when the time for my departure arrived, I was very sorry to leave her with the prospect of never again seeing her; and still more so my young friend Maria. I am happy to say that prosperity did not appear to have made the widow forget the good resolutions she had formed in adversity. She insisted on repaying me the money I had spent on her account; and I had reason afterwards to know that she was not ungrateful. It was arranged that Lieutenant Jeekel was to accompany me, and that we were to travel on horseback, by which mode we should be able to diverge oftener from the high road, and to see more of the country than we had been able to do coming. Little Maria cried very much as I wished her good-bye.

“You are going away, and I shall never—never—see you again, my dear, dear Mr Seaworth!” she exclaimed, as she held my hands, and looked up affectionately into my face. “Now, promise me, if you succeed in finding your dear little Eva—and I am sure you will find her—that you will come back and show her to me. I so long to see her, and to love her, and to tell her how kind you have been to me. I will pray every night and morning that she may be restored to you, and that she may live to reward you for all your trouble in looking after her. You will promise then, my dear Mr Seaworth; I know you will.”

“Indeed, I should be very sorry if I thought I was not to see you again,” I replied, completely won by her artless manner. “If I possibly can—if I am so blessed as to find my sister—I will come and introduce her to you.”

With this answer the little girl was satisfied. At length we started. I had a very pleasant journey, and collected a great deal of information as to the manners and customs of the Javanese. We saw several tigers, and deer, and wild hogs, and monkeys innumerable, and snakes and other reptiles; but had no adventure worth recording, and reached Sourabaya in safety.

Chapter Nineteen.We entered Sourabaya in the evening, when the streets were still crowded with the mixed population of the town, in their varied and picturesque dresses, each speaking their own language, or uttering the various cries of their respective trades. I directly rode to the hotel in the hopes of finding Fairburn there, as I was eager to learn how he was progressing with the schooner. He had not returned; and I was setting off to the docks when I met him coming in.“How do you get on?” I exclaimed, as soon as I saw him. “Are we likely soon to be able to start?”“We have gone ahead more rapidly than I expected,” he answered. “What by good wages and encouragement, and constant supervision, the carpenters and riggers have got on so well, that I expect she will be ready for sea in a few days. The more I see of the little craft, the more I like her; for she is a beauty, I can assure you, and will sail well too.”“I am delighted to hear it, and thank you for all your exertions in my cause,” I answered. “I long to be fairly under weigh. But have you gained any more information about theEmu?”“Nothing of importance,” he answered. “A Dutch merchantman came in here a few days ago, and she reports that some months since, on her outward voyage, she was chased by a strange brig, which showed no colours; but, by carrying all sail, she got away from her. If that was theEmu, it shows that she has taken regularly to piracy, and that we must be prepared to encounter her.”To this I agreed; but the thought that my sister and Mrs Clayton were among wretches who were pursuing such a course made me feel very wretched. The next morning I accompanied Fairburn down to the vessel. I was indeed surprised with the appearance she presented. Indeed, she required little more than to get her sails bent and her stores on board to be ready for sea. She mounted four carronades, and one long brass gun amidships, besides numerous swivels on her bulwarks, to enable her to contend in every way with any piratical prahus we might encounter. Besides these, her arm-chests contained a good supply of muskets, pistols, and cutlasses.“I have engaged also the best part of our crew,” said Fairburn. “They are all staunch fellows, or I am much mistaken. It is important that we should be well manned. There are eight Englishmen, four Dutchmen, two Americans, and six Javanese. The last are fine fellows, and, well treated, will labour hard; and if well led, and they can see that they may trust to their officers, they will prove as brave as any men in the world. See how they all go about their work. If I was a stranger to them, I should say they were the men to trust to. They have found out already that I chose all good men, and that there are no skulkers among them.”We were standing on the quay at the time, and as he spoke he pointed to the schooner where all hands were actively employed in various avocations, setting up the rigging, bending sails, and hoisting in stores.“And what sort or officers have you engaged?” I asked.“Two; and both good. One is a Dutchman, and the other is English. I had some difficulty in arranging the papers, and in getting permission to carry arms but, thanks to the assistance of Mr Scott and the kindness of the Resident, the affair has been settled. I cannot however, go as master of the schooner.”“You not master!” I exclaimed. “Who, then, is to be?”“The Dutchman, M. Van Graoul. He is a very good fellow in spite of his name,” he answered, laughing. “The fact is, he is nominally captain, and is answerable for our good behaviour—that we will not turn pirates, or commit any other little irregularities. I am to have charge of the vessel, and he is to obey me in all things lawful; indeed, he is to act as my mate except on certain occasions, when we are to change places. The arrangement is perfectly understood between us, and is not at all unusual.”I replied that I was satisfied if he was, and thought that the arrangement would not inconvenience him.“You are aware, also, that you must sail under the Dutch flag,” he continued. “It is better known than the English in these seas, and so far that is an advantage; but I daresay you would rather, as I should when it comes to fighting, have our own glorious standard waving over our heads.”I agreed with him there also; but I found that I was much indebted to the Dutch authorities, as so very strict is the government in all matters of the sort, that it was only in consequence of the peculiar circumstances of the case that I was allowed to fit out the vessel at all, many regulations being relaxed in my favour. I forgot to say that the schooner was called theFraulein, which is the Dutch, or rather German, ofyoung lady; and I thought the name pretty and appropriate. Behold me, then, the owner of the schoonerFraulein, Captain Van Graoul, just ready for sea, and as complete a little man-of-war as ever floated. I was going to call her a yacht; but she was fitted more for fighting than pleasure, except that there was one cabin which, with a confidence I scarcely had a right to, I had had prepared for Eva and Mrs Clayton.Our papers were all in order, and we had cleared out regularly. I had taken leave of the Resident and other authorities, and thanked Mr Scott to the utmost of my power for his liberality and confidence in me; and I had wished all the other friends I had formed good-bye, except Lieutenant Jeekel, who told me he intended to come and see the last of me on board. I felt that I had at length commenced my enterprise; my hopes rose with the occasion. There was an elasticity in my spirits, a buoyancy in my step, which I had never before experienced, as I walked the deck of theFraulein, as she lay in the roads just before getting under weigh.“There is a loaded boat coming off, and I think I see Lieutenant Jeekel in her,” said Captain Van Graoul, who had been looking through his glass towards the shore.He was right; in a short time my friends came alongside in a boat laden with provisions and fruits, and luxuries of every kind and description which the country could produce. While I was welcoming him on board, the things were being handed up on deck.“Oh, you must not thank me for anything there,” he exclaimed, with a smile, as he saw me looking at what was going forward. “I have but performed a commission for a friend of ours, who charged me to see it executed, or not to venture into her presence again.”“Oh, I understand,” I replied, laughing significantly. “Pray, whenever you are tempted back to her neighbourhood, express my gratitude, and assure her and Maria that I will not forget them, or the last mark of their kindness.”I suspected that it would not be long before my message was delivered, if the lieutenant could get leave from his ship, which was then refitting. He gave me also a satisfactory piece of intelligence, to the effect, that as soon as his brig was ready for sea, she was to be sent to cruise in search of theEmu, should her piratical career not yet have terminated.I was very unwilling to have to go so far out of my way as Batavia; for I felt certain that my search should be carried on among the wilder and less frequented islands lying to the east of Java, where the pirates would have little fear of being surprised. At the same time, I might obtain important information at Batavia; and I knew the necessity of beginning my search systematically.Everybody on board was in high spirits, and they all having had the object of the cruise explained to them, seemed to enter into it with a zeal and alacrity which was highly gratifying to me. We had a complete little Babel, as far as a variety of tongues are concerned, in theFraulein; but, thanks to Fairburn’s admirable arrangements, aided by Van Graoul, perfect harmony instead of discord was produced.I have not yet described Van Graoul. He was a stout man with a placid, good-humoured expression of countenance, and was content, provided he could enjoy his well-loved pipe, and an occasional glass of schiedam, to let the world take its way without complaining. He wore light-blue trousers, with enormous side-pockets, into which his hands were always thrust; a nankeen jacket, and a wide-brimmed straw hat, with a bright yellow handkerchief round his neck. He was a very good seaman in most respects; and was so perfectly cool in danger, that it was difficult to believe he was aware of the state of affairs. He did not, however, make a good master, as he was subject to fits of absence, when he was apt to forget the object of his voyage. The junior mate was a young Englishman, of the name of Barlow, a very steady, trustworthy person. Then, there was a boatswain, a gunner, a carpenter, and other petty officers; and I must not forget to mention Hassan, the young Malay, and Kalong the Dyak, who considered themselves our immediate attendants, while Ungka was a favourite with all.As it was impossible to say where theEmumight be, we were constantly on the look-out for any vessel answering her description. It was agreed that if we did fall in with her, we must endeavour to take her by surprise, or to capture her by boarding, as, were we to fire at her, our round shot might injure those we were in search of. We had a very short passage to Batavia, and anchored in the roadstead. The town being built on a swamp, and planted with trees, was entirely concealed from our view. I immediately went on shore, my boat being tracked up the river against a strong current.I was struck by the immense number of alligators which infest the river. They are held sacred by the Javanese, who will not destroy them; and it is said that they treat their brown skins with equal respect, but have no compunction about eating a white man. They live upon the number of dead animals and offal which come floating down the river. They are useful as acting the part of scavengers to the stream they inhabit. The streets of Batavia run for the most part in a north or south direction, are kept in neat order, regularly watered, and planted with rows of trees in the Dutch style. Formerly canals intersected the streets in all directions, rendering the city the most pestilential place within the tropics; but by the orders of Sir Stamford Raffles, while the English had possession of the island, they were all filled up, except the Grand Canal and its tributaries. The city is still far from healthy, and no one who can help it remains there; the government officers and merchants all going out to their country houses in the afternoon. My stay in Batavia was so short, that I had not time to make many remarks about the place. In consequence of the recommendations I had received from Sourabaya, the Resident forwarded my views in every way, giving me passes to facilitate my search throughout all the Dutch settlements I might visit.Fairburn and Van Graoul were in the meantime making inquiries among the masters of all the trading vessels in the harbour, whether they had seen or heard of a vessel which might prove to be theEmu. They, however, could only obtain rumours of her, and no one was met who had actually been attacked by her. For some time past it appeared that she had not even been heard of; and the opinion was, either that her career had by some means or other been brought to a close, or that she had altogether quitted those seas and gone to commit her depredations in another quarter of the globe. This last idea was the most distressing, because, if such was the case, I could not tell for what length of time my search might be prolonged. As, however, Timor was the last place she had been known to touch at, I determined to proceed there, and thence to steer a course as circumstances might direct.We were once more at sea. It is very delightful to sail over the ocean when the breeze is fresh, and sufficiently strong to send the vessel skimming along over the water, and yet not sufficiently so to throw up waves on the surface. Many such days I remember, and many nights, when the moon, in tranquil majesty was traversing the pure dark-blue sky, her light shed in a broad stream of silver across the purple expanse on which the vessel floated, a mere dot it seemed in the infinity of space. Had I been free from anxiety, the life I spent on board theFrauleinwould have been most delightful; but my mind was always dwelling on Eva, and thinking how she was situated; and my anxiety to rescue her prevented me from enjoying the present.We had been two weeks at sea, having experienced chiefly calms and light winds, when one morning at daybreak, while on the right of the island of Lombok, the lofty cone of its volcano rising blue and distinct against the sky, a square-rigged vessel was descried in the north-east quarter. She was apparently standing on a bowline to the southward, so that, by continuing our course, we should just contrive to get near enough to speak her. There was considerable excitement on board, for we had not spoken any vessel since we were out. She might give us some information respecting theEmu; or it was just possible that she might be theEmuherself. We stood on till we made her to be a low black brig, with a somewhat rakish appearance. This answered the description of theEmu. We had now to consider how to approach the stranger without exciting her suspicions. We first hoisted the Dutch ensign, and out flew, in return from her peak, the stars and stripes of the United States.“He is not afraid of showing his colours,” said Van Graoul, looking at the brig through his glass. “But ah! see there! He does not like our look. He has put his helm up, and away he goes before the wind.”So it was. The stranger altered her course, and away she stood to the eastward, pretty briskly setting her studding-sails and royals; by which we calculated that she had a good many hands on board. This behaviour of the stranger increased our suspicions of her character; and we accordingly made all sail in chase. We were now to try the speed of the littleFraulein. The breeze freshened, and away she flew over the water; but the brig was much larger, and soon showed us that she had a fast pair of heels. Do all we could, indeed, we could only continue to hold our own with her. Sometimes we even fancied that she was distancing us, and then after an hour had passed, we did not appear to have sunk her hull in the water.“Oh that we could but come up with her!” I exclaimed. “My sweet little Eva, we would soon liberate you from the power of these ruffians.”Van Graoul had his eyes upon the brig, as he said quite calmly, as if he had been thinking over the matter, “Has it not struck you, Mr Seaworth, that yonder stranger may have as bad an opinion of us as we have of her; and that seeing a piccarooning little craft, no offence to theFraulein, standing towards her, she thought the safest thing she could do would be to keep out of our way?”This was one mode of accounting for the flight of the stranger; still I did not like the idea of giving up the chase. Van Graoul’s notion might be correct; but yet it was possible that she was, after all, theEmu. At last the sun went down; but the night was so clear that we could still see the chase, and most perseveringly we followed her. The morning dawned, and there she was just ahead of us; and so well defined did every spar and sail appear in the clear atmosphere, that I could scarce persuade myself that she was far beyond the range of our guns. She had, indeed, rather increased than diminished her distance from us. At the same rate, unless the breeze failed her, and favoured us, she must finally escape from us. Approaching the evening, some low wooded land appeared ahead, towards which she was steering.“What can she intend to do now?” I asked of Fairburn.“She intends to run between a number of low coral islands, which form the land you see ahead, and so expects to escape us,” he answered. “The navigation is very difficult, and very dangerous for a stranger; but Van Graoul knows them well, and if she goes in we can follow.”“By all means, let us follow them,” I exclaimed. “Everything makes me think that must be theEmu.”“I wish that I could be certain,” said Fairburn. “We have a longer cruise before us.”I asked Van Graoul the name of the islets scattered about in a long line before us.“They are called the Pater Nosters, because strangers are apt to say their Pater Nosters when they happen to find themselves among them in bad weather,” he answered.The day was clear and the sea smooth; but I could suppose that in thick weather they must be very dangerous. The brig stood boldly on, with all sail set; and as we saw her, she seemed about to run directly on shore. Our glasses were continually fixed on her. One moment she was before us—the next she had disappeared. An exclamation of surprise escaped from many of the crew.“Hello! where’s the stranger?” cried one.“Why, if she don’t beat theFlying Dutchman!” exclaimed another.“I thought no good of her when I saw her up-helm and run away from us as she did,” said a third, a Yankee, who was one of the oracles of the crew.Van Graoul laughed. “We shall soon get a sight of her again,” he said; “she will get becalmed among the trees, or will find the wind baffling, when we, with our fore and aft sails shall have the advantage.”The breeze still held, and my heart beat quick at the thoughts of what was going to occur. At last we approached the land, or rather the islands. They stretched away for miles before us on either side, for we appeared to be near the centre of the group. The highest were not more than five or six feet out of the water; but the greater number were only two or three feet, and some were scarcely as many inches above it, and it seemed extraordinary that the waves should not wash completely over them. That they did not do so, even in rough weather, was evident from the thick groves of cocoa-nut, palm, and other tropical trees, which grew on them, while a bright sand, on which were strewed numberless beautiful shells, fringed their borders.Van Graoul now showed some of his good qualities. Hands were stationed at the bowsprit end, each fore-yard arm, and the mast-head, to keep a bright look-out for the coral ridges, which had not yet shown themselves above water, while he stood forward where he could be seen by the helmsman, ready to direct him in the devious course we were about to pursue. I had had too recent a lesson of the dangers of coral reefs not to feel anxious as I found myself again among them. Coral islands have always struck me as one of the most interesting curiosities of nature. A minute marine insect builds up from the bottom of the sea the solid foundation. The waves break the summit into sand. The birds of the air come and rest there, and bring seeds, which in time spring up and decay, till a soil is formed to give nourishment to more lofty trees, such as we now saw before us. We shot in between a narrow opening with the water of the deepest blue on either side. All hands were at their stations. Fairburn acted as quarter-master, ready to repeat our pilot’s signals. It was a nervous time: now we seemed rushing on against a bank of trees, and directly we turned to the right hand or to the left, through another opening, the termination of which was completely hidden from our sight; and had I not felt confidence in Van Graoul, I should have fancied that we were running into a blind passage, without another outlet. On looking out astern, I found that we had completely lost sight of the sea, and thus were on every side surrounded by trees and reefs. A stranger would, indeed, have found no little difficulty in getting out of the place, had he ever by any wonderful chance managed to get into it. Still on we flew.“Now,” exclaimed Van Graoul triumphantly, “we shall see directly; and if I mistake not, we shall not be far astern of her.”Soon after he spoke we shot past a thickly-wooded point, and emerged into open, lake-like expanse. I saw his countenance fall. The stranger was nowhere to be seen.

We entered Sourabaya in the evening, when the streets were still crowded with the mixed population of the town, in their varied and picturesque dresses, each speaking their own language, or uttering the various cries of their respective trades. I directly rode to the hotel in the hopes of finding Fairburn there, as I was eager to learn how he was progressing with the schooner. He had not returned; and I was setting off to the docks when I met him coming in.

“How do you get on?” I exclaimed, as soon as I saw him. “Are we likely soon to be able to start?”

“We have gone ahead more rapidly than I expected,” he answered. “What by good wages and encouragement, and constant supervision, the carpenters and riggers have got on so well, that I expect she will be ready for sea in a few days. The more I see of the little craft, the more I like her; for she is a beauty, I can assure you, and will sail well too.”

“I am delighted to hear it, and thank you for all your exertions in my cause,” I answered. “I long to be fairly under weigh. But have you gained any more information about theEmu?”

“Nothing of importance,” he answered. “A Dutch merchantman came in here a few days ago, and she reports that some months since, on her outward voyage, she was chased by a strange brig, which showed no colours; but, by carrying all sail, she got away from her. If that was theEmu, it shows that she has taken regularly to piracy, and that we must be prepared to encounter her.”

To this I agreed; but the thought that my sister and Mrs Clayton were among wretches who were pursuing such a course made me feel very wretched. The next morning I accompanied Fairburn down to the vessel. I was indeed surprised with the appearance she presented. Indeed, she required little more than to get her sails bent and her stores on board to be ready for sea. She mounted four carronades, and one long brass gun amidships, besides numerous swivels on her bulwarks, to enable her to contend in every way with any piratical prahus we might encounter. Besides these, her arm-chests contained a good supply of muskets, pistols, and cutlasses.

“I have engaged also the best part of our crew,” said Fairburn. “They are all staunch fellows, or I am much mistaken. It is important that we should be well manned. There are eight Englishmen, four Dutchmen, two Americans, and six Javanese. The last are fine fellows, and, well treated, will labour hard; and if well led, and they can see that they may trust to their officers, they will prove as brave as any men in the world. See how they all go about their work. If I was a stranger to them, I should say they were the men to trust to. They have found out already that I chose all good men, and that there are no skulkers among them.”

We were standing on the quay at the time, and as he spoke he pointed to the schooner where all hands were actively employed in various avocations, setting up the rigging, bending sails, and hoisting in stores.

“And what sort or officers have you engaged?” I asked.

“Two; and both good. One is a Dutchman, and the other is English. I had some difficulty in arranging the papers, and in getting permission to carry arms but, thanks to the assistance of Mr Scott and the kindness of the Resident, the affair has been settled. I cannot however, go as master of the schooner.”

“You not master!” I exclaimed. “Who, then, is to be?”

“The Dutchman, M. Van Graoul. He is a very good fellow in spite of his name,” he answered, laughing. “The fact is, he is nominally captain, and is answerable for our good behaviour—that we will not turn pirates, or commit any other little irregularities. I am to have charge of the vessel, and he is to obey me in all things lawful; indeed, he is to act as my mate except on certain occasions, when we are to change places. The arrangement is perfectly understood between us, and is not at all unusual.”

I replied that I was satisfied if he was, and thought that the arrangement would not inconvenience him.

“You are aware, also, that you must sail under the Dutch flag,” he continued. “It is better known than the English in these seas, and so far that is an advantage; but I daresay you would rather, as I should when it comes to fighting, have our own glorious standard waving over our heads.”

I agreed with him there also; but I found that I was much indebted to the Dutch authorities, as so very strict is the government in all matters of the sort, that it was only in consequence of the peculiar circumstances of the case that I was allowed to fit out the vessel at all, many regulations being relaxed in my favour. I forgot to say that the schooner was called theFraulein, which is the Dutch, or rather German, ofyoung lady; and I thought the name pretty and appropriate. Behold me, then, the owner of the schoonerFraulein, Captain Van Graoul, just ready for sea, and as complete a little man-of-war as ever floated. I was going to call her a yacht; but she was fitted more for fighting than pleasure, except that there was one cabin which, with a confidence I scarcely had a right to, I had had prepared for Eva and Mrs Clayton.

Our papers were all in order, and we had cleared out regularly. I had taken leave of the Resident and other authorities, and thanked Mr Scott to the utmost of my power for his liberality and confidence in me; and I had wished all the other friends I had formed good-bye, except Lieutenant Jeekel, who told me he intended to come and see the last of me on board. I felt that I had at length commenced my enterprise; my hopes rose with the occasion. There was an elasticity in my spirits, a buoyancy in my step, which I had never before experienced, as I walked the deck of theFraulein, as she lay in the roads just before getting under weigh.

“There is a loaded boat coming off, and I think I see Lieutenant Jeekel in her,” said Captain Van Graoul, who had been looking through his glass towards the shore.

He was right; in a short time my friends came alongside in a boat laden with provisions and fruits, and luxuries of every kind and description which the country could produce. While I was welcoming him on board, the things were being handed up on deck.

“Oh, you must not thank me for anything there,” he exclaimed, with a smile, as he saw me looking at what was going forward. “I have but performed a commission for a friend of ours, who charged me to see it executed, or not to venture into her presence again.”

“Oh, I understand,” I replied, laughing significantly. “Pray, whenever you are tempted back to her neighbourhood, express my gratitude, and assure her and Maria that I will not forget them, or the last mark of their kindness.”

I suspected that it would not be long before my message was delivered, if the lieutenant could get leave from his ship, which was then refitting. He gave me also a satisfactory piece of intelligence, to the effect, that as soon as his brig was ready for sea, she was to be sent to cruise in search of theEmu, should her piratical career not yet have terminated.

I was very unwilling to have to go so far out of my way as Batavia; for I felt certain that my search should be carried on among the wilder and less frequented islands lying to the east of Java, where the pirates would have little fear of being surprised. At the same time, I might obtain important information at Batavia; and I knew the necessity of beginning my search systematically.

Everybody on board was in high spirits, and they all having had the object of the cruise explained to them, seemed to enter into it with a zeal and alacrity which was highly gratifying to me. We had a complete little Babel, as far as a variety of tongues are concerned, in theFraulein; but, thanks to Fairburn’s admirable arrangements, aided by Van Graoul, perfect harmony instead of discord was produced.

I have not yet described Van Graoul. He was a stout man with a placid, good-humoured expression of countenance, and was content, provided he could enjoy his well-loved pipe, and an occasional glass of schiedam, to let the world take its way without complaining. He wore light-blue trousers, with enormous side-pockets, into which his hands were always thrust; a nankeen jacket, and a wide-brimmed straw hat, with a bright yellow handkerchief round his neck. He was a very good seaman in most respects; and was so perfectly cool in danger, that it was difficult to believe he was aware of the state of affairs. He did not, however, make a good master, as he was subject to fits of absence, when he was apt to forget the object of his voyage. The junior mate was a young Englishman, of the name of Barlow, a very steady, trustworthy person. Then, there was a boatswain, a gunner, a carpenter, and other petty officers; and I must not forget to mention Hassan, the young Malay, and Kalong the Dyak, who considered themselves our immediate attendants, while Ungka was a favourite with all.

As it was impossible to say where theEmumight be, we were constantly on the look-out for any vessel answering her description. It was agreed that if we did fall in with her, we must endeavour to take her by surprise, or to capture her by boarding, as, were we to fire at her, our round shot might injure those we were in search of. We had a very short passage to Batavia, and anchored in the roadstead. The town being built on a swamp, and planted with trees, was entirely concealed from our view. I immediately went on shore, my boat being tracked up the river against a strong current.

I was struck by the immense number of alligators which infest the river. They are held sacred by the Javanese, who will not destroy them; and it is said that they treat their brown skins with equal respect, but have no compunction about eating a white man. They live upon the number of dead animals and offal which come floating down the river. They are useful as acting the part of scavengers to the stream they inhabit. The streets of Batavia run for the most part in a north or south direction, are kept in neat order, regularly watered, and planted with rows of trees in the Dutch style. Formerly canals intersected the streets in all directions, rendering the city the most pestilential place within the tropics; but by the orders of Sir Stamford Raffles, while the English had possession of the island, they were all filled up, except the Grand Canal and its tributaries. The city is still far from healthy, and no one who can help it remains there; the government officers and merchants all going out to their country houses in the afternoon. My stay in Batavia was so short, that I had not time to make many remarks about the place. In consequence of the recommendations I had received from Sourabaya, the Resident forwarded my views in every way, giving me passes to facilitate my search throughout all the Dutch settlements I might visit.

Fairburn and Van Graoul were in the meantime making inquiries among the masters of all the trading vessels in the harbour, whether they had seen or heard of a vessel which might prove to be theEmu. They, however, could only obtain rumours of her, and no one was met who had actually been attacked by her. For some time past it appeared that she had not even been heard of; and the opinion was, either that her career had by some means or other been brought to a close, or that she had altogether quitted those seas and gone to commit her depredations in another quarter of the globe. This last idea was the most distressing, because, if such was the case, I could not tell for what length of time my search might be prolonged. As, however, Timor was the last place she had been known to touch at, I determined to proceed there, and thence to steer a course as circumstances might direct.

We were once more at sea. It is very delightful to sail over the ocean when the breeze is fresh, and sufficiently strong to send the vessel skimming along over the water, and yet not sufficiently so to throw up waves on the surface. Many such days I remember, and many nights, when the moon, in tranquil majesty was traversing the pure dark-blue sky, her light shed in a broad stream of silver across the purple expanse on which the vessel floated, a mere dot it seemed in the infinity of space. Had I been free from anxiety, the life I spent on board theFrauleinwould have been most delightful; but my mind was always dwelling on Eva, and thinking how she was situated; and my anxiety to rescue her prevented me from enjoying the present.

We had been two weeks at sea, having experienced chiefly calms and light winds, when one morning at daybreak, while on the right of the island of Lombok, the lofty cone of its volcano rising blue and distinct against the sky, a square-rigged vessel was descried in the north-east quarter. She was apparently standing on a bowline to the southward, so that, by continuing our course, we should just contrive to get near enough to speak her. There was considerable excitement on board, for we had not spoken any vessel since we were out. She might give us some information respecting theEmu; or it was just possible that she might be theEmuherself. We stood on till we made her to be a low black brig, with a somewhat rakish appearance. This answered the description of theEmu. We had now to consider how to approach the stranger without exciting her suspicions. We first hoisted the Dutch ensign, and out flew, in return from her peak, the stars and stripes of the United States.

“He is not afraid of showing his colours,” said Van Graoul, looking at the brig through his glass. “But ah! see there! He does not like our look. He has put his helm up, and away he goes before the wind.”

So it was. The stranger altered her course, and away she stood to the eastward, pretty briskly setting her studding-sails and royals; by which we calculated that she had a good many hands on board. This behaviour of the stranger increased our suspicions of her character; and we accordingly made all sail in chase. We were now to try the speed of the littleFraulein. The breeze freshened, and away she flew over the water; but the brig was much larger, and soon showed us that she had a fast pair of heels. Do all we could, indeed, we could only continue to hold our own with her. Sometimes we even fancied that she was distancing us, and then after an hour had passed, we did not appear to have sunk her hull in the water.

“Oh that we could but come up with her!” I exclaimed. “My sweet little Eva, we would soon liberate you from the power of these ruffians.”

Van Graoul had his eyes upon the brig, as he said quite calmly, as if he had been thinking over the matter, “Has it not struck you, Mr Seaworth, that yonder stranger may have as bad an opinion of us as we have of her; and that seeing a piccarooning little craft, no offence to theFraulein, standing towards her, she thought the safest thing she could do would be to keep out of our way?”

This was one mode of accounting for the flight of the stranger; still I did not like the idea of giving up the chase. Van Graoul’s notion might be correct; but yet it was possible that she was, after all, theEmu. At last the sun went down; but the night was so clear that we could still see the chase, and most perseveringly we followed her. The morning dawned, and there she was just ahead of us; and so well defined did every spar and sail appear in the clear atmosphere, that I could scarce persuade myself that she was far beyond the range of our guns. She had, indeed, rather increased than diminished her distance from us. At the same rate, unless the breeze failed her, and favoured us, she must finally escape from us. Approaching the evening, some low wooded land appeared ahead, towards which she was steering.

“What can she intend to do now?” I asked of Fairburn.

“She intends to run between a number of low coral islands, which form the land you see ahead, and so expects to escape us,” he answered. “The navigation is very difficult, and very dangerous for a stranger; but Van Graoul knows them well, and if she goes in we can follow.”

“By all means, let us follow them,” I exclaimed. “Everything makes me think that must be theEmu.”

“I wish that I could be certain,” said Fairburn. “We have a longer cruise before us.”

I asked Van Graoul the name of the islets scattered about in a long line before us.

“They are called the Pater Nosters, because strangers are apt to say their Pater Nosters when they happen to find themselves among them in bad weather,” he answered.

The day was clear and the sea smooth; but I could suppose that in thick weather they must be very dangerous. The brig stood boldly on, with all sail set; and as we saw her, she seemed about to run directly on shore. Our glasses were continually fixed on her. One moment she was before us—the next she had disappeared. An exclamation of surprise escaped from many of the crew.

“Hello! where’s the stranger?” cried one.

“Why, if she don’t beat theFlying Dutchman!” exclaimed another.

“I thought no good of her when I saw her up-helm and run away from us as she did,” said a third, a Yankee, who was one of the oracles of the crew.

Van Graoul laughed. “We shall soon get a sight of her again,” he said; “she will get becalmed among the trees, or will find the wind baffling, when we, with our fore and aft sails shall have the advantage.”

The breeze still held, and my heart beat quick at the thoughts of what was going to occur. At last we approached the land, or rather the islands. They stretched away for miles before us on either side, for we appeared to be near the centre of the group. The highest were not more than five or six feet out of the water; but the greater number were only two or three feet, and some were scarcely as many inches above it, and it seemed extraordinary that the waves should not wash completely over them. That they did not do so, even in rough weather, was evident from the thick groves of cocoa-nut, palm, and other tropical trees, which grew on them, while a bright sand, on which were strewed numberless beautiful shells, fringed their borders.

Van Graoul now showed some of his good qualities. Hands were stationed at the bowsprit end, each fore-yard arm, and the mast-head, to keep a bright look-out for the coral ridges, which had not yet shown themselves above water, while he stood forward where he could be seen by the helmsman, ready to direct him in the devious course we were about to pursue. I had had too recent a lesson of the dangers of coral reefs not to feel anxious as I found myself again among them. Coral islands have always struck me as one of the most interesting curiosities of nature. A minute marine insect builds up from the bottom of the sea the solid foundation. The waves break the summit into sand. The birds of the air come and rest there, and bring seeds, which in time spring up and decay, till a soil is formed to give nourishment to more lofty trees, such as we now saw before us. We shot in between a narrow opening with the water of the deepest blue on either side. All hands were at their stations. Fairburn acted as quarter-master, ready to repeat our pilot’s signals. It was a nervous time: now we seemed rushing on against a bank of trees, and directly we turned to the right hand or to the left, through another opening, the termination of which was completely hidden from our sight; and had I not felt confidence in Van Graoul, I should have fancied that we were running into a blind passage, without another outlet. On looking out astern, I found that we had completely lost sight of the sea, and thus were on every side surrounded by trees and reefs. A stranger would, indeed, have found no little difficulty in getting out of the place, had he ever by any wonderful chance managed to get into it. Still on we flew.

“Now,” exclaimed Van Graoul triumphantly, “we shall see directly; and if I mistake not, we shall not be far astern of her.”

Soon after he spoke we shot past a thickly-wooded point, and emerged into open, lake-like expanse. I saw his countenance fall. The stranger was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Twenty.Everybody on board experienced a feeling of blank disappointment, as in vain we looked in the hopes of seeing the royals of the brig appearing above the trees. Either Van Graoul had miscalculated her distance from us, or she had taken some other passage; or, as Dick Harper the Yankee seaman observed, she was in truth theFlying Dutchman. At all events it appeared that we had run into a most dangerous position, to very little purpose. Should the brig be the pirate, and still be concealed somewhere in the neighbourhood—if we brought up, she might at night attack us with her boats; and though we might beat them off, we might not escape loss, and at the same time be as far from our object as ever. We had no time for deliberation—our course must now be ahead, so we stood across the lake-like expanse I have spoken of, where as much caution as before was necessary; for it was full of reefs, and in another quarter of an hour we were again threading the labyrinth-like canals from which we had before emerged. Every instant I hoped to come upon the chase, but still as we sailed on she eluded us.His attention was too much occupied to allow me to keep him in conversation and I saw he was as much vexed as I was at the escape of the stranger. Little Ungka seemed the most surprised of any one at finding himself among trees; but he showed no disposition to quit his friends on board the schooner, even for the sake of being lord of all he surveyed. For two hours we stood on; sometimes the channels between the islands widened, and here we crossed broad sounds, but did not attempt to go down any of them, as their entrances, Van Graoul said, were full of dangerous shoals. We glided on; and I began to think that we were never to be clear of this wooded labyrinth; for, curious and beautiful as it might be under other circumstances, I wanted once more to have a clear sight around me.“Starboard!” cried Fairburn, as our pilot waved his hand on one side, and the head of the schooner deviated to the left.“Port!”“Port it is,” repeated the helmsman, and her head turned towards a channel to the right. The wind now came on her quarter, now on her beam, according to the turnings of the channels; and I was afraid, sometimes, that it would come ahead. It, however, never baffled us; and at length, at the end of a broader passage than usual, the unbroken line of the horizon appeared before us. The seamen welcomed it almost with a shout, for few like this sort of navigation. I proposed to Van Graoul that we should anchor before we emerged altogether from among the islands, so as to explore them more carefully in the boats, in case the brig should be still hid among them. Fairburn approved of my idea; and shortening sail immediately, we brought up in a little bay among the trees, by which the vessel was completely hid. Fairburn and the second mate, Barlow, volunteered for this service; and urged me so strongly to remain on board with Van Graoul that I consented.Fairburn first pulled out to sea, so that he might take a look all round; but coming back, he reported that there was no appearance anywhere of a sail to the southward; so that, if the stranger had gone through the group, she must have passed out somewhere to the northward. While the boats were away we sent a hand to watch from the highest tree at the farthest point of land to the south, if any vessel made her appearance from among the islands. Hour after hour passed away, and the boats did not return. The sun went down, and darkness came on; and at last I began to grow anxious about them. Van Graoul lighted his pipe, and sat on the deck, puffing away with more energy than usual.“There is no fear,” he remarked. “I did not expect them before morning; and if the brig is where I advised Fairburn to look for her, there is better chance of finding her in the dark than in the daylight without their being discovered.”Of course I could not turn in. Van Graoul and I held each other in conversation, while we kept a bright look-out on every side. It was the morning watch, when I heard a hail—it seemed like the voice of a stranger; it came nearer; there was another hail, and to my great satisfaction Fairburn and Barlow pulled alongside. They had seen nothing of the brig; and we were all very much puzzled to know what had become of her. The next morning we weighed, and stood out to sea. Never was a brighter look-out kept for a prize than we kept for the reappearance of the stranger; but to little purpose, beyond convincing ourselves that there was no probability of her appearing. For two days we cruised in the neighbourhood of the islands, clear of the reefs, and at length once more stood on our course.There was much discussion on board as to what the stranger was—where she had come from—where she was going—and why, if she was honest, she ran away from us. The general notion among the crew was that she was something strange and supernatural.“If not theFlying Dutchman, which could scarcely be the case seeing the latitude we are in,” said Dick Harper with oracular authority, “she’s near akin to the chap, that you may depend on, for no other would have been for to go for to play us such a trick as he has been doing; and for that matter, messmates, look ye here—he may be the Dutchman himself; for if he can cruise about as they say he does, I don’t see no reason why he shouldn’t take it into his head just to come down into these parts to have a look at some of his kindred, instead of knocking eternally off and about the Cape, which no longer belongs to them, d’ye see. To my mind, it’s just as well we had nothing to do with the fellow; he’d have played us some scurvy trick, depend on’t.”This most philosophical explanation seemed to satisfy the ship’s company; and as the officers had no better one to offer, except that the stranger had got into the open sea again by some passage unknown to them, they said nothing on the subject.It served as a matter of discussion for a long time afterwards. We made but little progress, for the wind was light, and often it fell almost calm, while the weather became very hot and sultry.One morning, when I came on deck, I found that we were lying becalmed. The sea was as smooth as glass, but it could not be called level; for ever and anon there came a slow rising swell, which made the little craft rock from side to side, and the sails flap with a loud irregular sound against the masts, as if they were angry at having nothing to do, and wished to remind the wind to fulfil its duty. The sun shone out of the sky, without a cloud to temper its heat, and its rays made one side of the ocean shine like molten gold. Every one was suffering more or less from the lassitude produced by excessive heat; the pitch was bubbling up from the seams of the deck; a strong, hot, burning smell pervaded the vessel; the chickens in the hencoops hung their heads and forgot to cackle; the ducks refused to quack, and sat with their bills open, gasping for breath; the pig lay down, as if about to yield up the ghost; and even Ungka, who generally revelled in a fine hot sun, and selected the warmest place on board, now looked out for a shady spot, and sat with his paws over his head to keep it cool. The bulkheads groaned, the booms creaked against the masts, every particle of grease being speedily absorbed; while, if the hand touched a piece of metal, it felt as if heated by the fire. Two of the youngsters of the crew were actually amusing themselves by frying a slice of meat on a bit of tin exposed to the sun. As one looked along the deck, one could see the heat-mist playing over every object on which the eye rested. If it is hot thus early in the day, what will it become by noon, we thought, unless a breeze spring up to cool us? However, no breeze did spring up, and hotter and hotter it grew, if possible, till Dick Harper declared we should all be roasted, and become a fat morsel for one of the big sea-serpents which were known to frequent those seas. We got an awning spread, and breakfasted on deck, for below it was insupportable; and though we none of us starved ourselves, we were unable to do the ample justice we generally did to the viands. Van Graoul lighted his pipe, and leaning back in his chair, watched the smoke, with calm composure, ascending in a perpendicular column above his nose. Fairburn kept his eye carefully ranging round the horizon, to look out for any signs of coming wind; for we could not but suspect that this calm was the forerunner of a hurricane, or a gale of wind of some sort. I tried to read; but I found that reading was impossible. It was even difficult to carry on a conversation with any degree of briskness. Hour after hour slowly passed away, and there was no change in the weather, when a sound struck our ears which suddenly aroused us all from our apathy.“A gun!” exclaimed Fairburn; “and a heavy one too—”“There’s another—and another,” we repeated in chorus.“De pirates of Sooloo or Borneo attacking some merchant vessel,” observed Van Graoul.“Can it be theEmuengaged with a man-of-war, by any possibility?” I asked, my thoughts always naturally recurring to her.“There are too many guns, and the firing is too brisk for that,” remarked Fairburn. “More likely some Dutch men-of-war, or perhaps some of the Company’s cruisers engaged with a fleet of prahus.”“Where do you make out the firing to come from?” I asked, rather puzzled myself to say from what direction the sounds proceeded.“From the southward,” he answered. “Some of the sounds seem so loud, that if it were night, I should say we ought to see the flashes; but that arises, I expect, from the peculiar state of the atmosphere.”“I wish we had a breeze, to be able to get up to see what it is all about,” I exclaimed.“It is one great puzzle,” observed Van Graoul sagaciously, as he re-lit his pipe, and puffed away as before.Again all was quiet for the space of an hour; and we, of course, fancied that the engagement had been concluded, and that we should have no chance of helping our friends. The general opinion was, that a large force of Malay pirates had been attacked by some European ships of war. While we were discussing the matter, we were again startled by a louder report than ever, followed by several others in rapid succession.“Did you not fancy that you felt the vessel shake under our feet?” I asked; for, soon after the loudest report, I thought the schooner was lifted up and let down suddenly, in a very unusual way.“Yes; if I did not know that we were in deep water, I should have thought she had struck on a shoal,” replied Van Graoul.“Are you certain that we are in deep water?” asked Fairburn with emphasis. “We’ll see what the lead says.”Van Graoul smiled. “I am not offended, Fairburn, though some might be; but you’ll find I’m right.”“I hope so,” replied Fairburn; “but a current might be drifting us faster than we expected.” The lead was hove, deep water was found all round. “I cannot make it out,” exclaimed Fairburn.“Nor I,” said Van Graoul, as he puffed away with his pipe. “Some ship blown up; or perhaps a score of prahus.”Again the sound of firing was heard rolling away in the distance.“It must be off Sourabaya, or Lombok, or perhaps as far away as Bali,” remarked Fairburn, listening attentively. “Sometimes I fancy it comes from the eastward, and may be away at Combobo, or Floris. Over a calm sea sounds travel a great distance.”“I cannot help thinking that there must be some engagement on shore between the Dutch troops and the natives of some of those islands. They now and then are fond of making a disturbance,” said Barlow, the second mate.“No, no; there was no chance of anything of the sort,” answered Van Graoul. “That firing, if firing it is, comes from the sea, I tell you.”The evening was now approaching, and still the mystery was not solved. At distant intervals, we continued to hear the sound of firing; but when darkness came on, we could nowhere see the flashes of the guns, as we expected. A light breeze at length sprung up from the eastward; but it was still hot and oppressive, and it in no way refreshed us. Anxious to discover, if possible, the cause of the firing, we trimmed sails and stood to the southward; but with the light air there was blowing we made but little way. The night appeared very long. I turned in for a couple of hours, but the heat soon again drove me on deck. When daylight appeared, we were on the look-out, almost expecting to see some of the vessels which had been engaged the previous day; but as the sun arose there was nothing in sight but the deep blue silent sea on three sides, and to the south the lofty hills of a large island, and at one end the peaks of a mountain towering over the rest. There was, instead of the bright, pure, clear atmosphere which generally exists at that hour, a very peculiar lurid glare, which, as the sun rolled upwards in his course, increased in intensity, till the sky became of almost a copper hue. Fairburn had gone aloft with his glass, to satisfy himself more fully as to there being anything in sight from the point where the firing had proceeded. He now returned on deck.“I cannot make it out,” he remarked. “After all, I am not so certain that it was firing we heard. Away to the southward, there is a dense black cloud which seems rising rapidly, as if it would cover all the sky.”We looked in the direction he indicated; and there, even while he was speaking, we observed the approach of a cloud, or rather I should call it a dense mist, so completely without break of any sort did it occupy the whole horizon. It looked like an opaque mass of some substance, borne onward by some invisible power towards us. Van Graoul, whose equanimity nothing extraordinary could disturb, likened it to the wall of China painted black, and taking a cruise to the southward.“Is there any wind in it, do you think?” asked Fairburn. “It does not seem to ruffle the surface.”“No wind, I think,” said Van Graoul; “but better shorten sail; the canvas does no good.”Such also was Fairburn’s opinion, and accordingly the schooner was made snug to meet the hurricane should it arrive.The crew were clustering in groups on deck watching the strange appearance, and in suppressed voices asking each other what it could mean. The more nervous already began to give way to fear; and the bravest were not altogether free from apprehension that some awful catastrophe was about to occur. The Javanese declared that it portended great convulsions in their country, and perhaps the overthrow of the ruling powers. Some of the more credulous of the seamen began to connect it, in some way or other, with the sudden disappearance of the strange brig.“I knowed it would be so,” muttered Dick Harper. “I never yet heard of any one coming across those fly-away, never-find-me sort of chaps we met t’other day, but what was sure to get into mischief afore long.”These, and similar observations, according to the temper and the natural prejudices of the speakers, by degrees spread an undefined apprehension of evil among all the crew; and fellows who, I believe, would have faced any known danger, and struggled manfully with death to the last, were now full of fear, and ready to be startled at the sound of a gun, or even the flap of a sail. On came the dark mass, as it approached assuming a dusky red appearance, which much increased its terrors. In a short time it covered the whole sky, and a darkness deeper than night came on. There was only one clear space, just like a gleam of light, seen at the end of a cavern, and that was away to the eastward, whence the light wind then blowing came; and even that was growing narrower and narrower. The darkness increased; the hearts of all of us, I believe, sunk; the light in the east, our last ray of hope, which till now had tended somewhat to cheer our spirits, totally disappeared, and we all began to feel that death, in some horrible, undefined shape, might speedily be our lot. It was dark before, as dark as night, but still we might have made out a vessel at the distance of a quarter of a mile; now we could scarcely see the length of the schooner. We were, when the darkness began, to the best of our knowledge, some distance from any land, or reefs, or shoals, and we trusted that no current might be carrying us towards any dangers, for we were utterly unable to protect ourselves against them.The vessel’s head was now put about, that we might stand off, the sail being reduced so as to leave sufficient only to give her steerage way, that, should any heavy wind overtake us, we might be prepared to receive it. Our light was utterly unavailing, for darker and darker still grew the atmosphere, till, without exaggeration, we were unable to see our hands held up before our faces; and it was through our voices alone that we were able to recognise each other.“Is there a chance of any wind?” I asked of Fairburn, near whom I was standing. I thought how awful a storm would be in such darkness.“It is possible, I think,” he replied. “At the same time, I fear no storm with this little craft.”We were still in doubt as to the cause of the awful phenomenon which was taking place, when, as I happened to touch the companion hatch, I found that it was gritty, as if covered with dust, while our lips and eyes informed us that a shower of light subtle ashes was falling—the deck being soon covered with a thick coating of them.“What do you now think causes the darkness?” demanded Fairburn of Van Graoul; for we were all three standing together round the companion hatch.“One burning mountain. It is Tomboro, in Sumbawa; the land we saw in the morning away to the south,” he replied in his usual calm tone. “I thought so some time ago; but I said nothing, because I was not certain.”“A burning mountain!” I exclaimed. “Could ashes have caused the intense darkness which hangs over us?”“Oh yes; but we shall have something worse before long,” he observed coolly. “Ah, I thought so, here it comes.”Even while he was speaking, a loud rushing noise was heard—the sea seemed to be bubbling and foaming up around us, and in an instant the schooner heeled over to her bulwarks, and appeared to be driving furiously onward over the water, as if she was about to go over never to rise again. Fairburn seized his speaking-trumpet, and shouted forth his orders to the crew. The helm was put up; the after-sail was taken off the vessel, and the jib shown for an instant.“She pays off! she pays off!” was shouted by the crew, as her head was felt to turn away from the wind, and she once more rose on an even keel. Then on she flew, like a sea-bird before the furious blast, through the darkness.“Where are we driving to?” we asked ourselves. “While we had abundance of sea-room we were safe. Now, who can say what will be our fate?”Fairburn ordered a lamp for the binnacle; a sickly light was thrown on the compass. He rushed below. A glance at the chart showed that we were then driving towards the western end of Sumbawa. Van Graoul and I followed him.“Can we weather it and get into Allass Straits?” I asked, as I pointed to the chart.The Dutchman shook his head. “There are rocks and islands off there which we cannot see; we may slip through them by chance, but we must not reckon on it,” he answered.We returned on deck. The wind blew more furiously than ever, the darkness also seemed increased. We stood prepared for our fate. We had done all that men could do. Then I remembered the last words of my kind guardian, “Never despair, for God is everywhere.” I repeated it to my companions. It gave us courage and confidence, for we felt that we were in His hands. From mouth to mouth it was passed with reverence along the decks; and even the rough seamen, unaccustomed to pray, felt its force and truth. On, on we drove, the water dashed and foamed around us, the wind howled through the rigging. For an instant there was a lull, then down again came the blast upon us. The compass told that it had again shifted, and was now blowing from the north. If it held so, it would shorten the time before the catastrophe must occur. Every moment the sea became more agitated, and the broken waves leaped up and washed over our decks, as if we were running through a troubled race.“How far-off are we from the shore, think you?” I asked of Fairburn, in as calm a voice as I could command.“Still some distance,” he replied vaguely. “The wind may shift before we reach it.”I cannot hope to convey a distinct idea of the inky blackness of the atmosphere, the howling of the whirlwinds, and the roaring of the waves, as, utterly unable to help ourselves, we drove furiously onward. In a few hours, or in a few minutes even, where should we be? Again, before we could answer the question, the wind changed, with redoubled force it seemed. It came off the land, whirling us round before it. Its force seemed to drive back the waves to their proper level. On a sudden, without a moment’s warning, the topsail gave a flap against the mast, the schooner rocked to and fro in the yet troubled sea, and then all was still, and the schooner floated calmly, as in a sheltered harbour, on the water.“This is wonderful. What is going to occur next?” I exclaimed.“Perhaps the wind is just taking a rest,” observed Van Graoul.We waited in expectation of again feeling the fury of the blast, and anxiously looked at the compass to see from what quarter it came. While our eyes were trying to pierce the darkness, as if we could discover the coming danger, a bright light burst on them from the south. Never was a spectacle of a like nature, more awful yet more magnificent, beheld. The darkness for an instant cleared away, and we saw, but a few miles distant it seemed, a lofty mountain. From its broad summit there burst forth three distinct columns of flame. They thus rose to an enormous height, and then, their summits uniting in one, they seemed to contend with each other, twisting and intertwining together, till their crests broke into a mass of fiery foam, and expanded over the heavens. Now and then a still larger quantity of flame would burst forth, and darting upwards for many thousand feet, would fall in burning streams to the earth. Other streams also burst forth and flowed down the sides of the mountain, till the whole side towards us seemed one mass of liquid fire.Although we were some miles distant, the light from the burning mountain cast a lurid glare on the hull and rigging of the schooner; and as we looked at each other, our faces shone as if formed of some red-hot metal rather than of flesh, while the whole expanse of sea between us and the land seemed a mass of molten copper. An artist would have delighted to paint the wondering countenances of the seamen, some still full of doubts and fears; the various attitudes in which they stood transfixed; the many tints of their skins, from the dark hues of the Javanese and Malays, in their picturesque costume, to the fair colour of the Europeans, in the ordinary dress in which English and American seamen delight, now blended into one line.All this time the loud reports continued to be heard; but knowing their cause, they no longer appeared to us like those of cannon. Almost as suddenly as the awful spectacle had been exhibited to our eyes, it was once more obscured by the dense masses of cinders, and even of stone, which filled the sky and fell around us.The wind returned, as before, from the east; and, to avoid the fiery shower, we stood away to the northward. It was in vain to hope to escape it altogether. The stones which fell decreased in size, but the ashes came as thick as before, and the explosions continued at intervals. To what had at first appeared so terrific, we had now got accustomed, and the fears even of the most superstitious of the seamen subsided; but still the Javanese were not to be dissuaded from the belief that some wonderful change was to take place in the affairs of their country. We put an awning over the deck to shelter ourselves somewhat from the ashes; but the finer portion drove under it, and filled every crevice, while we kept the people constantly employed in shovelling them overboard. Thus hours passed on, till we began to think that we should never again see the bright light of the sun.

Everybody on board experienced a feeling of blank disappointment, as in vain we looked in the hopes of seeing the royals of the brig appearing above the trees. Either Van Graoul had miscalculated her distance from us, or she had taken some other passage; or, as Dick Harper the Yankee seaman observed, she was in truth theFlying Dutchman. At all events it appeared that we had run into a most dangerous position, to very little purpose. Should the brig be the pirate, and still be concealed somewhere in the neighbourhood—if we brought up, she might at night attack us with her boats; and though we might beat them off, we might not escape loss, and at the same time be as far from our object as ever. We had no time for deliberation—our course must now be ahead, so we stood across the lake-like expanse I have spoken of, where as much caution as before was necessary; for it was full of reefs, and in another quarter of an hour we were again threading the labyrinth-like canals from which we had before emerged. Every instant I hoped to come upon the chase, but still as we sailed on she eluded us.

His attention was too much occupied to allow me to keep him in conversation and I saw he was as much vexed as I was at the escape of the stranger. Little Ungka seemed the most surprised of any one at finding himself among trees; but he showed no disposition to quit his friends on board the schooner, even for the sake of being lord of all he surveyed. For two hours we stood on; sometimes the channels between the islands widened, and here we crossed broad sounds, but did not attempt to go down any of them, as their entrances, Van Graoul said, were full of dangerous shoals. We glided on; and I began to think that we were never to be clear of this wooded labyrinth; for, curious and beautiful as it might be under other circumstances, I wanted once more to have a clear sight around me.

“Starboard!” cried Fairburn, as our pilot waved his hand on one side, and the head of the schooner deviated to the left.

“Port!”

“Port it is,” repeated the helmsman, and her head turned towards a channel to the right. The wind now came on her quarter, now on her beam, according to the turnings of the channels; and I was afraid, sometimes, that it would come ahead. It, however, never baffled us; and at length, at the end of a broader passage than usual, the unbroken line of the horizon appeared before us. The seamen welcomed it almost with a shout, for few like this sort of navigation. I proposed to Van Graoul that we should anchor before we emerged altogether from among the islands, so as to explore them more carefully in the boats, in case the brig should be still hid among them. Fairburn approved of my idea; and shortening sail immediately, we brought up in a little bay among the trees, by which the vessel was completely hid. Fairburn and the second mate, Barlow, volunteered for this service; and urged me so strongly to remain on board with Van Graoul that I consented.

Fairburn first pulled out to sea, so that he might take a look all round; but coming back, he reported that there was no appearance anywhere of a sail to the southward; so that, if the stranger had gone through the group, she must have passed out somewhere to the northward. While the boats were away we sent a hand to watch from the highest tree at the farthest point of land to the south, if any vessel made her appearance from among the islands. Hour after hour passed away, and the boats did not return. The sun went down, and darkness came on; and at last I began to grow anxious about them. Van Graoul lighted his pipe, and sat on the deck, puffing away with more energy than usual.

“There is no fear,” he remarked. “I did not expect them before morning; and if the brig is where I advised Fairburn to look for her, there is better chance of finding her in the dark than in the daylight without their being discovered.”

Of course I could not turn in. Van Graoul and I held each other in conversation, while we kept a bright look-out on every side. It was the morning watch, when I heard a hail—it seemed like the voice of a stranger; it came nearer; there was another hail, and to my great satisfaction Fairburn and Barlow pulled alongside. They had seen nothing of the brig; and we were all very much puzzled to know what had become of her. The next morning we weighed, and stood out to sea. Never was a brighter look-out kept for a prize than we kept for the reappearance of the stranger; but to little purpose, beyond convincing ourselves that there was no probability of her appearing. For two days we cruised in the neighbourhood of the islands, clear of the reefs, and at length once more stood on our course.

There was much discussion on board as to what the stranger was—where she had come from—where she was going—and why, if she was honest, she ran away from us. The general notion among the crew was that she was something strange and supernatural.

“If not theFlying Dutchman, which could scarcely be the case seeing the latitude we are in,” said Dick Harper with oracular authority, “she’s near akin to the chap, that you may depend on, for no other would have been for to go for to play us such a trick as he has been doing; and for that matter, messmates, look ye here—he may be the Dutchman himself; for if he can cruise about as they say he does, I don’t see no reason why he shouldn’t take it into his head just to come down into these parts to have a look at some of his kindred, instead of knocking eternally off and about the Cape, which no longer belongs to them, d’ye see. To my mind, it’s just as well we had nothing to do with the fellow; he’d have played us some scurvy trick, depend on’t.”

This most philosophical explanation seemed to satisfy the ship’s company; and as the officers had no better one to offer, except that the stranger had got into the open sea again by some passage unknown to them, they said nothing on the subject.

It served as a matter of discussion for a long time afterwards. We made but little progress, for the wind was light, and often it fell almost calm, while the weather became very hot and sultry.

One morning, when I came on deck, I found that we were lying becalmed. The sea was as smooth as glass, but it could not be called level; for ever and anon there came a slow rising swell, which made the little craft rock from side to side, and the sails flap with a loud irregular sound against the masts, as if they were angry at having nothing to do, and wished to remind the wind to fulfil its duty. The sun shone out of the sky, without a cloud to temper its heat, and its rays made one side of the ocean shine like molten gold. Every one was suffering more or less from the lassitude produced by excessive heat; the pitch was bubbling up from the seams of the deck; a strong, hot, burning smell pervaded the vessel; the chickens in the hencoops hung their heads and forgot to cackle; the ducks refused to quack, and sat with their bills open, gasping for breath; the pig lay down, as if about to yield up the ghost; and even Ungka, who generally revelled in a fine hot sun, and selected the warmest place on board, now looked out for a shady spot, and sat with his paws over his head to keep it cool. The bulkheads groaned, the booms creaked against the masts, every particle of grease being speedily absorbed; while, if the hand touched a piece of metal, it felt as if heated by the fire. Two of the youngsters of the crew were actually amusing themselves by frying a slice of meat on a bit of tin exposed to the sun. As one looked along the deck, one could see the heat-mist playing over every object on which the eye rested. If it is hot thus early in the day, what will it become by noon, we thought, unless a breeze spring up to cool us? However, no breeze did spring up, and hotter and hotter it grew, if possible, till Dick Harper declared we should all be roasted, and become a fat morsel for one of the big sea-serpents which were known to frequent those seas. We got an awning spread, and breakfasted on deck, for below it was insupportable; and though we none of us starved ourselves, we were unable to do the ample justice we generally did to the viands. Van Graoul lighted his pipe, and leaning back in his chair, watched the smoke, with calm composure, ascending in a perpendicular column above his nose. Fairburn kept his eye carefully ranging round the horizon, to look out for any signs of coming wind; for we could not but suspect that this calm was the forerunner of a hurricane, or a gale of wind of some sort. I tried to read; but I found that reading was impossible. It was even difficult to carry on a conversation with any degree of briskness. Hour after hour slowly passed away, and there was no change in the weather, when a sound struck our ears which suddenly aroused us all from our apathy.

“A gun!” exclaimed Fairburn; “and a heavy one too—”

“There’s another—and another,” we repeated in chorus.

“De pirates of Sooloo or Borneo attacking some merchant vessel,” observed Van Graoul.

“Can it be theEmuengaged with a man-of-war, by any possibility?” I asked, my thoughts always naturally recurring to her.

“There are too many guns, and the firing is too brisk for that,” remarked Fairburn. “More likely some Dutch men-of-war, or perhaps some of the Company’s cruisers engaged with a fleet of prahus.”

“Where do you make out the firing to come from?” I asked, rather puzzled myself to say from what direction the sounds proceeded.

“From the southward,” he answered. “Some of the sounds seem so loud, that if it were night, I should say we ought to see the flashes; but that arises, I expect, from the peculiar state of the atmosphere.”

“I wish we had a breeze, to be able to get up to see what it is all about,” I exclaimed.

“It is one great puzzle,” observed Van Graoul sagaciously, as he re-lit his pipe, and puffed away as before.

Again all was quiet for the space of an hour; and we, of course, fancied that the engagement had been concluded, and that we should have no chance of helping our friends. The general opinion was, that a large force of Malay pirates had been attacked by some European ships of war. While we were discussing the matter, we were again startled by a louder report than ever, followed by several others in rapid succession.

“Did you not fancy that you felt the vessel shake under our feet?” I asked; for, soon after the loudest report, I thought the schooner was lifted up and let down suddenly, in a very unusual way.

“Yes; if I did not know that we were in deep water, I should have thought she had struck on a shoal,” replied Van Graoul.

“Are you certain that we are in deep water?” asked Fairburn with emphasis. “We’ll see what the lead says.”

Van Graoul smiled. “I am not offended, Fairburn, though some might be; but you’ll find I’m right.”

“I hope so,” replied Fairburn; “but a current might be drifting us faster than we expected.” The lead was hove, deep water was found all round. “I cannot make it out,” exclaimed Fairburn.

“Nor I,” said Van Graoul, as he puffed away with his pipe. “Some ship blown up; or perhaps a score of prahus.”

Again the sound of firing was heard rolling away in the distance.

“It must be off Sourabaya, or Lombok, or perhaps as far away as Bali,” remarked Fairburn, listening attentively. “Sometimes I fancy it comes from the eastward, and may be away at Combobo, or Floris. Over a calm sea sounds travel a great distance.”

“I cannot help thinking that there must be some engagement on shore between the Dutch troops and the natives of some of those islands. They now and then are fond of making a disturbance,” said Barlow, the second mate.

“No, no; there was no chance of anything of the sort,” answered Van Graoul. “That firing, if firing it is, comes from the sea, I tell you.”

The evening was now approaching, and still the mystery was not solved. At distant intervals, we continued to hear the sound of firing; but when darkness came on, we could nowhere see the flashes of the guns, as we expected. A light breeze at length sprung up from the eastward; but it was still hot and oppressive, and it in no way refreshed us. Anxious to discover, if possible, the cause of the firing, we trimmed sails and stood to the southward; but with the light air there was blowing we made but little way. The night appeared very long. I turned in for a couple of hours, but the heat soon again drove me on deck. When daylight appeared, we were on the look-out, almost expecting to see some of the vessels which had been engaged the previous day; but as the sun arose there was nothing in sight but the deep blue silent sea on three sides, and to the south the lofty hills of a large island, and at one end the peaks of a mountain towering over the rest. There was, instead of the bright, pure, clear atmosphere which generally exists at that hour, a very peculiar lurid glare, which, as the sun rolled upwards in his course, increased in intensity, till the sky became of almost a copper hue. Fairburn had gone aloft with his glass, to satisfy himself more fully as to there being anything in sight from the point where the firing had proceeded. He now returned on deck.

“I cannot make it out,” he remarked. “After all, I am not so certain that it was firing we heard. Away to the southward, there is a dense black cloud which seems rising rapidly, as if it would cover all the sky.”

We looked in the direction he indicated; and there, even while he was speaking, we observed the approach of a cloud, or rather I should call it a dense mist, so completely without break of any sort did it occupy the whole horizon. It looked like an opaque mass of some substance, borne onward by some invisible power towards us. Van Graoul, whose equanimity nothing extraordinary could disturb, likened it to the wall of China painted black, and taking a cruise to the southward.

“Is there any wind in it, do you think?” asked Fairburn. “It does not seem to ruffle the surface.”

“No wind, I think,” said Van Graoul; “but better shorten sail; the canvas does no good.”

Such also was Fairburn’s opinion, and accordingly the schooner was made snug to meet the hurricane should it arrive.

The crew were clustering in groups on deck watching the strange appearance, and in suppressed voices asking each other what it could mean. The more nervous already began to give way to fear; and the bravest were not altogether free from apprehension that some awful catastrophe was about to occur. The Javanese declared that it portended great convulsions in their country, and perhaps the overthrow of the ruling powers. Some of the more credulous of the seamen began to connect it, in some way or other, with the sudden disappearance of the strange brig.

“I knowed it would be so,” muttered Dick Harper. “I never yet heard of any one coming across those fly-away, never-find-me sort of chaps we met t’other day, but what was sure to get into mischief afore long.”

These, and similar observations, according to the temper and the natural prejudices of the speakers, by degrees spread an undefined apprehension of evil among all the crew; and fellows who, I believe, would have faced any known danger, and struggled manfully with death to the last, were now full of fear, and ready to be startled at the sound of a gun, or even the flap of a sail. On came the dark mass, as it approached assuming a dusky red appearance, which much increased its terrors. In a short time it covered the whole sky, and a darkness deeper than night came on. There was only one clear space, just like a gleam of light, seen at the end of a cavern, and that was away to the eastward, whence the light wind then blowing came; and even that was growing narrower and narrower. The darkness increased; the hearts of all of us, I believe, sunk; the light in the east, our last ray of hope, which till now had tended somewhat to cheer our spirits, totally disappeared, and we all began to feel that death, in some horrible, undefined shape, might speedily be our lot. It was dark before, as dark as night, but still we might have made out a vessel at the distance of a quarter of a mile; now we could scarcely see the length of the schooner. We were, when the darkness began, to the best of our knowledge, some distance from any land, or reefs, or shoals, and we trusted that no current might be carrying us towards any dangers, for we were utterly unable to protect ourselves against them.

The vessel’s head was now put about, that we might stand off, the sail being reduced so as to leave sufficient only to give her steerage way, that, should any heavy wind overtake us, we might be prepared to receive it. Our light was utterly unavailing, for darker and darker still grew the atmosphere, till, without exaggeration, we were unable to see our hands held up before our faces; and it was through our voices alone that we were able to recognise each other.

“Is there a chance of any wind?” I asked of Fairburn, near whom I was standing. I thought how awful a storm would be in such darkness.

“It is possible, I think,” he replied. “At the same time, I fear no storm with this little craft.”

We were still in doubt as to the cause of the awful phenomenon which was taking place, when, as I happened to touch the companion hatch, I found that it was gritty, as if covered with dust, while our lips and eyes informed us that a shower of light subtle ashes was falling—the deck being soon covered with a thick coating of them.

“What do you now think causes the darkness?” demanded Fairburn of Van Graoul; for we were all three standing together round the companion hatch.

“One burning mountain. It is Tomboro, in Sumbawa; the land we saw in the morning away to the south,” he replied in his usual calm tone. “I thought so some time ago; but I said nothing, because I was not certain.”

“A burning mountain!” I exclaimed. “Could ashes have caused the intense darkness which hangs over us?”

“Oh yes; but we shall have something worse before long,” he observed coolly. “Ah, I thought so, here it comes.”

Even while he was speaking, a loud rushing noise was heard—the sea seemed to be bubbling and foaming up around us, and in an instant the schooner heeled over to her bulwarks, and appeared to be driving furiously onward over the water, as if she was about to go over never to rise again. Fairburn seized his speaking-trumpet, and shouted forth his orders to the crew. The helm was put up; the after-sail was taken off the vessel, and the jib shown for an instant.

“She pays off! she pays off!” was shouted by the crew, as her head was felt to turn away from the wind, and she once more rose on an even keel. Then on she flew, like a sea-bird before the furious blast, through the darkness.

“Where are we driving to?” we asked ourselves. “While we had abundance of sea-room we were safe. Now, who can say what will be our fate?”

Fairburn ordered a lamp for the binnacle; a sickly light was thrown on the compass. He rushed below. A glance at the chart showed that we were then driving towards the western end of Sumbawa. Van Graoul and I followed him.

“Can we weather it and get into Allass Straits?” I asked, as I pointed to the chart.

The Dutchman shook his head. “There are rocks and islands off there which we cannot see; we may slip through them by chance, but we must not reckon on it,” he answered.

We returned on deck. The wind blew more furiously than ever, the darkness also seemed increased. We stood prepared for our fate. We had done all that men could do. Then I remembered the last words of my kind guardian, “Never despair, for God is everywhere.” I repeated it to my companions. It gave us courage and confidence, for we felt that we were in His hands. From mouth to mouth it was passed with reverence along the decks; and even the rough seamen, unaccustomed to pray, felt its force and truth. On, on we drove, the water dashed and foamed around us, the wind howled through the rigging. For an instant there was a lull, then down again came the blast upon us. The compass told that it had again shifted, and was now blowing from the north. If it held so, it would shorten the time before the catastrophe must occur. Every moment the sea became more agitated, and the broken waves leaped up and washed over our decks, as if we were running through a troubled race.

“How far-off are we from the shore, think you?” I asked of Fairburn, in as calm a voice as I could command.

“Still some distance,” he replied vaguely. “The wind may shift before we reach it.”

I cannot hope to convey a distinct idea of the inky blackness of the atmosphere, the howling of the whirlwinds, and the roaring of the waves, as, utterly unable to help ourselves, we drove furiously onward. In a few hours, or in a few minutes even, where should we be? Again, before we could answer the question, the wind changed, with redoubled force it seemed. It came off the land, whirling us round before it. Its force seemed to drive back the waves to their proper level. On a sudden, without a moment’s warning, the topsail gave a flap against the mast, the schooner rocked to and fro in the yet troubled sea, and then all was still, and the schooner floated calmly, as in a sheltered harbour, on the water.

“This is wonderful. What is going to occur next?” I exclaimed.

“Perhaps the wind is just taking a rest,” observed Van Graoul.

We waited in expectation of again feeling the fury of the blast, and anxiously looked at the compass to see from what quarter it came. While our eyes were trying to pierce the darkness, as if we could discover the coming danger, a bright light burst on them from the south. Never was a spectacle of a like nature, more awful yet more magnificent, beheld. The darkness for an instant cleared away, and we saw, but a few miles distant it seemed, a lofty mountain. From its broad summit there burst forth three distinct columns of flame. They thus rose to an enormous height, and then, their summits uniting in one, they seemed to contend with each other, twisting and intertwining together, till their crests broke into a mass of fiery foam, and expanded over the heavens. Now and then a still larger quantity of flame would burst forth, and darting upwards for many thousand feet, would fall in burning streams to the earth. Other streams also burst forth and flowed down the sides of the mountain, till the whole side towards us seemed one mass of liquid fire.

Although we were some miles distant, the light from the burning mountain cast a lurid glare on the hull and rigging of the schooner; and as we looked at each other, our faces shone as if formed of some red-hot metal rather than of flesh, while the whole expanse of sea between us and the land seemed a mass of molten copper. An artist would have delighted to paint the wondering countenances of the seamen, some still full of doubts and fears; the various attitudes in which they stood transfixed; the many tints of their skins, from the dark hues of the Javanese and Malays, in their picturesque costume, to the fair colour of the Europeans, in the ordinary dress in which English and American seamen delight, now blended into one line.

All this time the loud reports continued to be heard; but knowing their cause, they no longer appeared to us like those of cannon. Almost as suddenly as the awful spectacle had been exhibited to our eyes, it was once more obscured by the dense masses of cinders, and even of stone, which filled the sky and fell around us.

The wind returned, as before, from the east; and, to avoid the fiery shower, we stood away to the northward. It was in vain to hope to escape it altogether. The stones which fell decreased in size, but the ashes came as thick as before, and the explosions continued at intervals. To what had at first appeared so terrific, we had now got accustomed, and the fears even of the most superstitious of the seamen subsided; but still the Javanese were not to be dissuaded from the belief that some wonderful change was to take place in the affairs of their country. We put an awning over the deck to shelter ourselves somewhat from the ashes; but the finer portion drove under it, and filled every crevice, while we kept the people constantly employed in shovelling them overboard. Thus hours passed on, till we began to think that we should never again see the bright light of the sun.

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