Chapter Thirty Five.Another Fishing Trip.We had a long tramp after the birds of paradise that day, but did not get one. We shot some lovely sun-birds though, and a couple of thrushes such as we had not seen before. Our walk took us well in sight of the sea once more, and we began to have a pretty good idea of the form of the island. But the more we went about the more my uncle was satisfied that it was only a matter of time to make here a glorious collection of the birds of the eastern islands. We saw four different kinds of birds of paradise in our walk, though we did not get one on account of their shyness, but we did not despair of getting over that; and at last, well tired out, we returned to Ebo, who had hung up the serpent’s skin to dry, and following his guidance till nightfall we got back to our hut by the sea-shore, where the boat lay perfectly safe, and being too tired to make a fire and cook, we lay down and fell asleep at once.It was still dark when I was awakened by a hand shaking my arm, and, starting up, there was the black face of Ebo bent over me.“Ikan-ikan,” he kept on repeating.“Ikan—fish,” said my uncle, starting up. “Yes, we may as well get some for a change, Nat;” and in a few minutes we were all down on the sand launching the boat, which rode out lightly over the rollers.We had plenty of fishing-lines, so fine that Ebo shook his head at them, and proceeded to show us how easily they would break; but after trying over and over again without success, and only cutting his hands, he grinned and jumped up to dance, but evidently thinking there was no room he settled down again and began to examine some hooks and glittering tin baits which we had in a box.These he scanned most carefully as the boat skimmed along, my uncle steering, and after trying the sharpness of the hooks he performed what always seemed to me a conjuring trick, in bringing a couple of mother-of-pearl baits out of his waist-cloth, with a roll of twine.The savages of the East, in fact most of the eastern people, wear a cord round the waist made of a material in accordance with their station. The poorer people will have it of cotton or twisted grass, the wealthier and chiefs of silk, while some have it threaded with gold. This thin cord is used as a support for their waist-cloth, and is rarely taken off, but is fastened so tightly that I have seen it appear completely buried in the flesh, just as if the wearers had an idea that they ought to make themselves look as much like an insect as possible.Ebo wore a very tightlingouti—as it is called—round and over which he tucked the coarse cotton cloth which formed his only article of attire, and it was by means of this cotton cloth that he performed what I have spoken of as being like conjuring tricks, for somehow or another, although he had the appearance of carrying nothing about with him, he had always a collection of useful articles stored away in the folds of that waist-cloth.Upon the present occasion he brought out two mother-of-pearl baits such as would be used to attract the fish when no real bait could be obtained.It was a sight to see Ebo comparing his pearl baits with our specimens of tin and tinned copper, and for a time he seemed as if he could hardly make up his mind which was the better. Then he laid his coil of line made of roughly twisted grass beside ours, and inspected the two carefully, after which he uttered a sigh and put his own away, evidently quite satisfied that the civilised article was by far the better.We sailed out about a mile and then anchored at the edge of a reef of coral, which acted as a shelter against the great rollers which broke far away upon its edge, seeming to make a ridge of surf, while where we lay all was undulating and calm, but with the tide running strongly over the reef, where the water was not a fathom deep and growing shallower moment by moment.Ebo laid his short club ready to his hand, signing to me to draw my big hunting-knife and place it beside me.“That looks as if we were to catch some large and dangerous fish, Nat,” said my uncle; and he drew his own knife before passing to each of us a line with the artificial baits affixed.“Won’t you fish, uncle?” I asked.“No, my boy. You two can fish, and as soon as you catch one we will cut him up for bait. I don’t believe in artificial bait when you can get real.”By this time Ebo had thrown out his line and I followed his example, seeing the swift current seize upon the bait and carry it rapidly out over the reef, twinkling and sparkling in the water as I jerked it by paying out more line.All at once, when it was some fifteen yards away. I felt a jerk and a snatch.“I’ve got one,” I said; but the tugging ceased directly, and I felt that the fish had gone.Either the same, though, or another seized it directly, for there was a fierce tug which cut my hand, and I had to give line for a few moments while the fish I had hooked darted here and there like lightning, but I had it up to the side soon after, and gazed at it with delight, for it was, as it lay panting in the boat, like a magnificent goldfish, five or six pounds weight, with bars across its side of the most dazzling blue.“Poo—chah—chah!” Ebo cried with a face full of disgust as he twisted his own line round a peg in the boat, and seizing his club battered the fish to death after unhooking it, and threw it over the side, where, as it was carried away, I could see that dozens of fish were darting at it, tearing it to pieces as fast as they could.“What did you do that for?” I cried angrily, for it seemed wasting a splendid fish.Ebo chatted away in reply, almost as angrily, after which, evidently satisfied that I did not understand, he behaved very nastily, though his dumb-show was so comic that it made us roar with laughter.For he pretended to eat, as we supposed, some of the fish. Then he jumped up, sat down, jumped up again, rubbed his front, kicked out his legs and shouted, making hideous grimaces as if he were in pain, ending by leaning over the side of the boat, pretending to be horribly sick, and finishing his performance by lying down, turning up his eyes, and moaning.“We must take what he shows us for granted, Nat,” said my uncle, as Ebo jumped up smiling, as much as to say, “Wasn’t I clever?” “These people know which are the wholesome and which are the unwholesome fish; but I was going to use some of that fellow for bait.”Just then Ebo hooked and brought in a fine fish that was all blue, but even this one would not do, for he killed it and tossed it overboard, chattering at it the while as if he were abusing it for being so bad.We saw scores of fish dart at it as it was thrown in, and now they bit so freely at the artificial baits that there was no occasion to change.I had hold of what seemed a nice fish directly, and after letting it run a little I began hauling in, watching its progress through the shallow clear water and thinking how bright and beautiful it looked against the brilliant corals, the softly waving weeds of every shade of brown and scarlet, while now and then some other fish darted at it.All at once I uttered a cry of astonishment, for a long line of undulating creamy white seemed to dart at my fish, seize it with a jerk, and twist itself round it, till fish and the eel-like creature that attacked it resembled a knot.I kept on hauling in, but only slowly now, for fear the hook should break out, the weight being double what it was and the water lashed into glittering foam.“What is it, uncle?” I cried excitedly.“Don’t hurry, Nat,” he replied; and just then Ebo, who had been too busy pulling in a fish to notice my line, threw out again, and then fastening his cord came over to my side to see.No sooner did he make out what I had at the end of the line than he seized his club, gesticulated furiously, and began beating the side of the boat, chattering aloud, and signing to me to give him the line.“Let him have it, Nat,” said my uncle. “He has had experience with these things.”I gave up my hold of the fishing-line most unwillingly, for the little adventure was intensely exciting, and every jerk and drag made by the creature that had seized my fish sent a thrill through my arms to my very heart.“It is some kind of sea-snake that has taken your fish, Nat, and is regularly constricting it. As I told you before, there are some of them dangerously poisonous, and not like our great friend out in the swamp.”Meanwhile Ebo was jerking and shaking the line furiously, as if endeavouring to get rid of the snake, but without avail, for it held on tightly, having evidently got one fold twisted round the line, and I must confess, after hearing about the poisonous nature of these creatures, to feeling rather nervous as to its behaviour if it were brought on board.But Ebo did not mean to bring it on board. He wanted to shake it off, and what with the struggles of the fish and the writhing and twisting of the snake, it seemed every moment as if the line must break.The black brought it close in, then let it go almost to the full length of the line, jerked it, made fierce snatches, but all in vain; and at last getting the unwelcome visitor close in, he signed to my uncle to take his knife while he raised his club for a blow, when there was a sudden cessation of the rush, and foam in the water, and fish and snake had gone.Ebo grinned with triumph, and after examining the bait threw it out again, returning to the other side directly to draw in a satisfactory fish for our breakfast, while my uncle chatted to me about my last captive.“This is new to me, Nat,” he said. “I never could have thought that these snakes or eels, for they seem to partake of the character of the latter, would have wound themselves round the prey they seized. The elongated fish in our part of the world, congers, dog-fish, guard-fish, and similar creatures, fasten their teeth into their prey, then setting their bodies in rapid motion like a screw, they regularly cut great pieces out of their victim. This was precisely the same as a serpent with its prey, and it is a natural history fact worth recording. But look!”I had already felt a fish snap at my bait, checked it, and knew that I was fast into a monster. For a few moments he let me feel something heavy and inert at the end of my line, then there was a plunge and a rush, the line went hissing out, and try as I would to check it, the fish ran straight off till I dragged with all my might, and felt that either the line must break or my hands would be terribly cut.“Give and take, Nat,” cried my uncle.“It’s all give, uncle, and I can’t take a bit.”I had hardly said the words when I was at liberty to take in as much as I liked, for the fish was gone, and upon drawing in my line in a terribly disappointed way, it was to find that the fish had completely bitten through the very strong wire gimp, not broken it, but bitten it as cleanly as if it had been done with a knife.“That must have been a monster,” said Uncle Dick. “But never mind, my boy. Here, hold still and I’ll loop on another bait.”He was in the act of doing this when Ebo began to dance about in the boat, striving hard to drag in the fish he had hooked. His plan was to haul in as quickly as he could, never giving the fish a moment’s rest, and any form of playing the swift, darting creature did not seem to enter his head.He seemed to have found his match this time, for the fish refused to be dragged on board, but after a fierce struggle the black’s arms were too much for it, and a dozen rapid hand-over-hand hauls resulted in its being hauled over the side, a sharp-nosed glittering silver-fish about four feet long, and I was about to fling myself upon it to hold it down and stop its frantic leaps amongst our tackle, when Ebo uttered a cry of alarm, darted before me, and attacked the fish with his club, dealing it the most furious blow upon the head, but apparently without any effect, for as one of the blows fell, the great fish seemed to make a side dart with its head, and its jaws closed upon the club, holding on so fiercely and with such power that it was not until Uncle Dick had cut off its head that the club could be wrenched away, when Ebo showed me the creature’s jaws full of teeth like lancets and pretty well as sharp.“No wonder your wire was bitten through,” said my uncle. “Hallo! is he not good to eat?”Ebo evidently seemed to consider that it was not, for the fish was thrown over, and the fierce monster, that must have been a perfect tyrant of the waters, had not floated a dozen feet before it was furiously attacked and literally hacked to pieces.There was no difficulty in getting fish that morning, the only thing was to avoid hooking monsters that would break or bite through our tackle, and those which were not good for food.The reef literally swarmed with fish, some large, some small, and every now and then we could see the rapid dash of one of the snake-eels as I called them. I saw them regularly leap out of the water sometimes and come down in a knot, twisting and twining about in the most extraordinary way, and at last, so interesting was the clear, shallow water, that we laid aside our lines and leaned over the side gazing down at the fish that flashed about, till the reef was dry, and leaving Ebo in the boat we landed to walk about over the shining weeds and coral, picking our way amongst shell-fish of endless variety, some with great heavy shells a couple of feet long, and some so small and delicate that I had to handle them with the greatest delicacy to keep from crushing their tissue-papery shells.I could have stayed there for hours and filled the boat with wonders. There was scarlet and orange coral, so beautiful that I was for bringing away specimens; but Uncle Dick showed me that it was only the gelatinous covering that was of so lovely a tint, and this, he told me, would soon decay.Then there were the brilliantly tinted weeds. There were sea-slugs too, delicacies amongst the Chinese under the name oftrepang, and so many other wonders of the sea that I should have gone on searching amongst the crevices of the sharp coral, if I had not had a sharp warning given to me to make for the boat by the parts that had only been an inch or two deep rapidly increasing to a foot, and my uncle shouting to me to come aboard.It was quite time, for I was some distance from the boat, with the tide flowing in so rapidly that in a few minutes I should have had to swim, and a swim in water swarming with such furious kinds of the finny tribe was anything but tempting.As it was I had to swim a few strokes, and was of course soaked, but my uncle hauled me uninjured into the boat and I little minded the wetting, but laughed at my adventure as we sat over our breakfast and feasted upon frizzled fish to our hearts’ content.
We had a long tramp after the birds of paradise that day, but did not get one. We shot some lovely sun-birds though, and a couple of thrushes such as we had not seen before. Our walk took us well in sight of the sea once more, and we began to have a pretty good idea of the form of the island. But the more we went about the more my uncle was satisfied that it was only a matter of time to make here a glorious collection of the birds of the eastern islands. We saw four different kinds of birds of paradise in our walk, though we did not get one on account of their shyness, but we did not despair of getting over that; and at last, well tired out, we returned to Ebo, who had hung up the serpent’s skin to dry, and following his guidance till nightfall we got back to our hut by the sea-shore, where the boat lay perfectly safe, and being too tired to make a fire and cook, we lay down and fell asleep at once.
It was still dark when I was awakened by a hand shaking my arm, and, starting up, there was the black face of Ebo bent over me.
“Ikan-ikan,” he kept on repeating.
“Ikan—fish,” said my uncle, starting up. “Yes, we may as well get some for a change, Nat;” and in a few minutes we were all down on the sand launching the boat, which rode out lightly over the rollers.
We had plenty of fishing-lines, so fine that Ebo shook his head at them, and proceeded to show us how easily they would break; but after trying over and over again without success, and only cutting his hands, he grinned and jumped up to dance, but evidently thinking there was no room he settled down again and began to examine some hooks and glittering tin baits which we had in a box.
These he scanned most carefully as the boat skimmed along, my uncle steering, and after trying the sharpness of the hooks he performed what always seemed to me a conjuring trick, in bringing a couple of mother-of-pearl baits out of his waist-cloth, with a roll of twine.
The savages of the East, in fact most of the eastern people, wear a cord round the waist made of a material in accordance with their station. The poorer people will have it of cotton or twisted grass, the wealthier and chiefs of silk, while some have it threaded with gold. This thin cord is used as a support for their waist-cloth, and is rarely taken off, but is fastened so tightly that I have seen it appear completely buried in the flesh, just as if the wearers had an idea that they ought to make themselves look as much like an insect as possible.
Ebo wore a very tightlingouti—as it is called—round and over which he tucked the coarse cotton cloth which formed his only article of attire, and it was by means of this cotton cloth that he performed what I have spoken of as being like conjuring tricks, for somehow or another, although he had the appearance of carrying nothing about with him, he had always a collection of useful articles stored away in the folds of that waist-cloth.
Upon the present occasion he brought out two mother-of-pearl baits such as would be used to attract the fish when no real bait could be obtained.
It was a sight to see Ebo comparing his pearl baits with our specimens of tin and tinned copper, and for a time he seemed as if he could hardly make up his mind which was the better. Then he laid his coil of line made of roughly twisted grass beside ours, and inspected the two carefully, after which he uttered a sigh and put his own away, evidently quite satisfied that the civilised article was by far the better.
We sailed out about a mile and then anchored at the edge of a reef of coral, which acted as a shelter against the great rollers which broke far away upon its edge, seeming to make a ridge of surf, while where we lay all was undulating and calm, but with the tide running strongly over the reef, where the water was not a fathom deep and growing shallower moment by moment.
Ebo laid his short club ready to his hand, signing to me to draw my big hunting-knife and place it beside me.
“That looks as if we were to catch some large and dangerous fish, Nat,” said my uncle; and he drew his own knife before passing to each of us a line with the artificial baits affixed.
“Won’t you fish, uncle?” I asked.
“No, my boy. You two can fish, and as soon as you catch one we will cut him up for bait. I don’t believe in artificial bait when you can get real.”
By this time Ebo had thrown out his line and I followed his example, seeing the swift current seize upon the bait and carry it rapidly out over the reef, twinkling and sparkling in the water as I jerked it by paying out more line.
All at once, when it was some fifteen yards away. I felt a jerk and a snatch.
“I’ve got one,” I said; but the tugging ceased directly, and I felt that the fish had gone.
Either the same, though, or another seized it directly, for there was a fierce tug which cut my hand, and I had to give line for a few moments while the fish I had hooked darted here and there like lightning, but I had it up to the side soon after, and gazed at it with delight, for it was, as it lay panting in the boat, like a magnificent goldfish, five or six pounds weight, with bars across its side of the most dazzling blue.
“Poo—chah—chah!” Ebo cried with a face full of disgust as he twisted his own line round a peg in the boat, and seizing his club battered the fish to death after unhooking it, and threw it over the side, where, as it was carried away, I could see that dozens of fish were darting at it, tearing it to pieces as fast as they could.
“What did you do that for?” I cried angrily, for it seemed wasting a splendid fish.
Ebo chatted away in reply, almost as angrily, after which, evidently satisfied that I did not understand, he behaved very nastily, though his dumb-show was so comic that it made us roar with laughter.
For he pretended to eat, as we supposed, some of the fish. Then he jumped up, sat down, jumped up again, rubbed his front, kicked out his legs and shouted, making hideous grimaces as if he were in pain, ending by leaning over the side of the boat, pretending to be horribly sick, and finishing his performance by lying down, turning up his eyes, and moaning.
“We must take what he shows us for granted, Nat,” said my uncle, as Ebo jumped up smiling, as much as to say, “Wasn’t I clever?” “These people know which are the wholesome and which are the unwholesome fish; but I was going to use some of that fellow for bait.”
Just then Ebo hooked and brought in a fine fish that was all blue, but even this one would not do, for he killed it and tossed it overboard, chattering at it the while as if he were abusing it for being so bad.
We saw scores of fish dart at it as it was thrown in, and now they bit so freely at the artificial baits that there was no occasion to change.
I had hold of what seemed a nice fish directly, and after letting it run a little I began hauling in, watching its progress through the shallow clear water and thinking how bright and beautiful it looked against the brilliant corals, the softly waving weeds of every shade of brown and scarlet, while now and then some other fish darted at it.
All at once I uttered a cry of astonishment, for a long line of undulating creamy white seemed to dart at my fish, seize it with a jerk, and twist itself round it, till fish and the eel-like creature that attacked it resembled a knot.
I kept on hauling in, but only slowly now, for fear the hook should break out, the weight being double what it was and the water lashed into glittering foam.
“What is it, uncle?” I cried excitedly.
“Don’t hurry, Nat,” he replied; and just then Ebo, who had been too busy pulling in a fish to notice my line, threw out again, and then fastening his cord came over to my side to see.
No sooner did he make out what I had at the end of the line than he seized his club, gesticulated furiously, and began beating the side of the boat, chattering aloud, and signing to me to give him the line.
“Let him have it, Nat,” said my uncle. “He has had experience with these things.”
I gave up my hold of the fishing-line most unwillingly, for the little adventure was intensely exciting, and every jerk and drag made by the creature that had seized my fish sent a thrill through my arms to my very heart.
“It is some kind of sea-snake that has taken your fish, Nat, and is regularly constricting it. As I told you before, there are some of them dangerously poisonous, and not like our great friend out in the swamp.”
Meanwhile Ebo was jerking and shaking the line furiously, as if endeavouring to get rid of the snake, but without avail, for it held on tightly, having evidently got one fold twisted round the line, and I must confess, after hearing about the poisonous nature of these creatures, to feeling rather nervous as to its behaviour if it were brought on board.
But Ebo did not mean to bring it on board. He wanted to shake it off, and what with the struggles of the fish and the writhing and twisting of the snake, it seemed every moment as if the line must break.
The black brought it close in, then let it go almost to the full length of the line, jerked it, made fierce snatches, but all in vain; and at last getting the unwelcome visitor close in, he signed to my uncle to take his knife while he raised his club for a blow, when there was a sudden cessation of the rush, and foam in the water, and fish and snake had gone.
Ebo grinned with triumph, and after examining the bait threw it out again, returning to the other side directly to draw in a satisfactory fish for our breakfast, while my uncle chatted to me about my last captive.
“This is new to me, Nat,” he said. “I never could have thought that these snakes or eels, for they seem to partake of the character of the latter, would have wound themselves round the prey they seized. The elongated fish in our part of the world, congers, dog-fish, guard-fish, and similar creatures, fasten their teeth into their prey, then setting their bodies in rapid motion like a screw, they regularly cut great pieces out of their victim. This was precisely the same as a serpent with its prey, and it is a natural history fact worth recording. But look!”
I had already felt a fish snap at my bait, checked it, and knew that I was fast into a monster. For a few moments he let me feel something heavy and inert at the end of my line, then there was a plunge and a rush, the line went hissing out, and try as I would to check it, the fish ran straight off till I dragged with all my might, and felt that either the line must break or my hands would be terribly cut.
“Give and take, Nat,” cried my uncle.
“It’s all give, uncle, and I can’t take a bit.”
I had hardly said the words when I was at liberty to take in as much as I liked, for the fish was gone, and upon drawing in my line in a terribly disappointed way, it was to find that the fish had completely bitten through the very strong wire gimp, not broken it, but bitten it as cleanly as if it had been done with a knife.
“That must have been a monster,” said Uncle Dick. “But never mind, my boy. Here, hold still and I’ll loop on another bait.”
He was in the act of doing this when Ebo began to dance about in the boat, striving hard to drag in the fish he had hooked. His plan was to haul in as quickly as he could, never giving the fish a moment’s rest, and any form of playing the swift, darting creature did not seem to enter his head.
He seemed to have found his match this time, for the fish refused to be dragged on board, but after a fierce struggle the black’s arms were too much for it, and a dozen rapid hand-over-hand hauls resulted in its being hauled over the side, a sharp-nosed glittering silver-fish about four feet long, and I was about to fling myself upon it to hold it down and stop its frantic leaps amongst our tackle, when Ebo uttered a cry of alarm, darted before me, and attacked the fish with his club, dealing it the most furious blow upon the head, but apparently without any effect, for as one of the blows fell, the great fish seemed to make a side dart with its head, and its jaws closed upon the club, holding on so fiercely and with such power that it was not until Uncle Dick had cut off its head that the club could be wrenched away, when Ebo showed me the creature’s jaws full of teeth like lancets and pretty well as sharp.
“No wonder your wire was bitten through,” said my uncle. “Hallo! is he not good to eat?”
Ebo evidently seemed to consider that it was not, for the fish was thrown over, and the fierce monster, that must have been a perfect tyrant of the waters, had not floated a dozen feet before it was furiously attacked and literally hacked to pieces.
There was no difficulty in getting fish that morning, the only thing was to avoid hooking monsters that would break or bite through our tackle, and those which were not good for food.
The reef literally swarmed with fish, some large, some small, and every now and then we could see the rapid dash of one of the snake-eels as I called them. I saw them regularly leap out of the water sometimes and come down in a knot, twisting and twining about in the most extraordinary way, and at last, so interesting was the clear, shallow water, that we laid aside our lines and leaned over the side gazing down at the fish that flashed about, till the reef was dry, and leaving Ebo in the boat we landed to walk about over the shining weeds and coral, picking our way amongst shell-fish of endless variety, some with great heavy shells a couple of feet long, and some so small and delicate that I had to handle them with the greatest delicacy to keep from crushing their tissue-papery shells.
I could have stayed there for hours and filled the boat with wonders. There was scarlet and orange coral, so beautiful that I was for bringing away specimens; but Uncle Dick showed me that it was only the gelatinous covering that was of so lovely a tint, and this, he told me, would soon decay.
Then there were the brilliantly tinted weeds. There were sea-slugs too, delicacies amongst the Chinese under the name oftrepang, and so many other wonders of the sea that I should have gone on searching amongst the crevices of the sharp coral, if I had not had a sharp warning given to me to make for the boat by the parts that had only been an inch or two deep rapidly increasing to a foot, and my uncle shouting to me to come aboard.
It was quite time, for I was some distance from the boat, with the tide flowing in so rapidly that in a few minutes I should have had to swim, and a swim in water swarming with such furious kinds of the finny tribe was anything but tempting.
As it was I had to swim a few strokes, and was of course soaked, but my uncle hauled me uninjured into the boat and I little minded the wetting, but laughed at my adventure as we sat over our breakfast and feasted upon frizzled fish to our hearts’ content.
Chapter Thirty Six.Ebo satisfies our Wants.It would be tedious if I were to go on describing the almost endless varieties of birds we shot, glowing though they were with rainbow colours, and to keep repeating how we skinned and preserved this sun-bird, that pitta, or trogon, or lovely rose-tinted dove. Parrots and cockatoos we found without number, and as we selected only the finest specimens, our collection rapidly increased, so fast, indeed, by steady work, that I began to understand how my uncle had brought so great a number from the West.But still one of the great objects of our visit to this part of the world had not been achieved; we had shot no birds of paradise; and these were scarce things in England at the time of which I write.There were plenty of rough specimens of their plumage worn in ladies’ bonnets; but a fair, well-preserved skin was hardly known, those brought to England being roughly dried by the natives; so at last my uncle declared that no more birds should be shot and skinned until we had obtained specimens of some at least of the lovely creatures whose cries we often heard about us, but which tantalisingly kept out of shot.It was a difficult task, but we at last made Ebo understand that we must shoot some of these birds, when by his way he seemed to indicate that if we had only told him sooner we might have had as many as we liked.That very day he obtained a good little store of provisions, shouldered his spear, and went off by himself, and we saw no more of him for forty-eight hours, when he came back in the most unconcerned way, just as if he had never been out of sight, and sat down and ate all that we put before him.After that he lay down and went to sleep for some hours, waking up ready to dance around us, chattering vehemently until we had finished the skins we were preserving, when he signed to us to take our guns and to follow him.We obeyed him, but he did not seem satisfied until we had collected some provision as well, when once more he set off, taking us through a part of the island we had not visited before, and, if anything, more beautiful than that we had.It was a long journey he took us, and we could have secured hundreds of brilliantly coloured birds, but we only shot a few large ones, such as we knew to be good food, ready for our halt by the camp fire, for it seemed that we were not to return to our hut that night.Over hillsides, down in valleys where tree-ferns sprang up, of the most beautifully laced fronds, great groves of palms and clumps of cocoa-nut trees, some of whose fruit Ebo climbed and got for us, and still we went on, avoiding the marshy-looking spots which experience had taught us to be the home of the serpents, which, in very small numbers, inhabited the isle.Several times over we looked inquiringly at Ebo, but he only smiled and pointed forward, and we followed him till he stopped suddenly and showed us some wood ready for making a fire.Here we had a welcome rest and a hearty meal, but he did not let us stay long, hurrying us forward, till, just before sundown, he brought us to a dense patch of forest, with huge trees towering upward and spreading their branches, making an impenetrable shade.“It will be too dark to travel far here to-night, Nat,” said my uncle. “Where does he mean to go? But this ought to be the place for the birds of paradise, Nat, if we are to get any.”Just then Ebo stopped, and we found a rough hut of leaves with a bed of fern already waiting for us, this having been part of his work during his prolonged absence.His delight knew no bounds as he saw that we were pleased, and as usual he indulged in a dance, after which he caught us in turn by the arm and tried very hard to explain that the birds of paradise were plentiful here.We were too tired to think about anything much besides sleep, and very gladly crept into our hut, to sleep so soundly without a single thought of serpents or huge apes, that I seemed hardly to have closed my eyes, and felt exceedingly grumpy and indisposed to move when Ebo began shaking me to get me up.“All right!” I said, and then, as I lay still with my eyes closed, Ebo kept on:“Hawk, hawk, hawk; kwok, kwok, kwok;” and it seemed so stupid of him, but there it was again; “Hawk, hawk, hawk; kwok, kwok, kwok.”“Come, Nat,” cried my uncle; “unbutton those eyelids, boy, and get up. Don’t you hear the birds calling?”“I thought it was Ebo, uncle,” I said. “Oh! I am so sleepy.”“Never mind the sleepiness, Nat. Come along and let’s see if we cannot get some good specimens.”Just then I saw Ebo’s face in the opening, and cutting a yawn right in half I followed my uncle out into the darkness, for though the birds of paradise were calling, there was no sign of day.But if we wished for success I felt that we must get beneath the trees unseen, and, examining my gun, I followed my uncle, who in turn kept close behind Ebo.The black went forward very cautiously, and looking very strange and misty in the darkness; but he evidently knew what he was about, going along amongst the great tree trunks without a sound, while we followed as lightly as we could.On all sides we could hear the hoarse cries of the birds, which we felt must be in good numbers, and I felt less sleepiness now in the fresh morning air, and a curious feeling of excitement came over me as I thought of the lovely amber plumes of these birds, and wondered whether I should be fortunate enough to bring one down.All at once Ebo stopped beneath an enormous tree, and as we crept up close to its mighty trunk we gazed up into the darkness and could here and there catch a glimpse of a star; in fact, so black was it, that but for the cries of the various birds we heard, it might have been taken for the middle of the night.There was nothing to see but an almost opaque blackness, though now and then I fancied I could make out a great branch crossing above my head. It seemed nonsense to have come, but the loud cry of one of the birds we sought, sounded loudly just then and silenced my doubts. I raised my gun ready for a shot, but could see nothing.Just then my uncle whispered with his lips to my ear: “Don’t make a sound, and don’t fire till you have a good chance. Look out.”The loud quok, quok, quok, was answered from a distance, repeated above our heads, and then there was the whistle of wings plainly heard in the solemn silence of the forest, and all this repeated again overhead till it seemed as if we were just beneath a tree where the birds of paradise met for discussion, like the rooks at home in the elms. But no matter how I strained my eyes I could not distinguish a single bird.The minutes went by, and I longed for the light, for though I knew it would betray our presence, still I might catch sight of one bird and bring it down. But the light did not come, and as my arms ached with holding up my gun I lowered it, and patiently waited with my heart beating heavily, as I listened to the cries that were on the increase.All at once I felt an arm glide over my shoulder, and I could just make out that Ebo was pointing upward with his black finger steadily in one direction.I tried to follow it but could see nothing, and I was thinking how much better a savage’s sight was than ours, when from out of the darkness there came the hoarse “Hawk, hawk, hawk; quok, quok, quok,” and as the cry seemed to direct my eye, I fancied that I could see something moving slightly at a very great height, bowing and strutting like a pigeon. I looked and looked again and could not see it; then a star that was peeping through the leaves seemed to be suddenly hidden, and there was the movement again.I forgot all about my uncle’s orders about not firing until I had a good chance, and taking a steady aim at the dimly seen spot just as the hoarse cry arose once more, I drew the trigger.The flash from my gun seemed to cut the blackness, and the report went echoing away amongst the trees; then there was a sharp rustling noise, and a dull, quick thud, and I was about to spring forward and seek for what I had shot, but Ebo’s arms closed round me and held me fast.I understood what he meant, and contented myself with reloading my gun, the click of the lock sounding very loud in the silence that had ensued, for the report of my gun had caused a complete cessation of all cries, and I felt that we should get no more shots for some time; but all the same I had heard no rush of wings as of a flock of birds taking flight, and I wondered whether any of them were still in the dense top of the tree.Five or ten minutes must have elapsed, and then once more Ebo’s arm glided over my shoulder and rested there, while I laid my cheek against it, and gazed in quite another direction now till I fancied I saw what he was pointing at, but which looked like nothing but a dark spot high up amongst the twigs; in fact, when I did make it out I felt sure that it was a nest.But I recalled how accurate Ebo had been before, and once more taking aim, making it the more careful by leaning my gun barrel against the trunk of the tree, I fired; there was a quick rustle of leaves and twigs, and another dull thud, but no one moved.After a few minutes’ waiting Ebo pointed out another, whatever it was, for I was still in doubt as to whether these were birds of paradise that I had shot, for the silence had not been broken since I fired first.I took a quicker aim this time and drew the trigger, and once more there was a heavy fall through the branches, and then as if by magic it seemed to be daylight, and I saw several big birds dotted about the tree.Uncle Dick and I fired together, and then came a rush of wings as another bird fell, the loud cries being repeated from a distance; while Ebo, evidently considering that it was of no more use to wait, ran out to pick up the birds.Only one bird had fallen when my uncle and I fired together, for I believe I missed; but as Ebo and I picked up the result of our expedition here the sun rose, and in the bright light that came between the trees we stood gazing in ecstasy at the lovely creatures.“Oh, uncle!”That was all I could say for some time.“I think it ought to be ‘Oh, Nat!’” he replied laughing. “Why, you young dog, what eyes you have! you got all the luck.”“Oh no, uncle,” I said laughing; “I shot with Ebo’s eyes.”“Then next time I’ll do the same,” he said.“But let’s go and shoot some more,” I said excitedly.“No, Nat, we shall get no more of these to-day. I suppose it will only be by hiding in the darkness beneath the trees they frequent that we shall have any success. They are wonderfully shy, and no wonder when they have such plumage to protect.”I suppose most people have seen specimens of the great bird of paradise, but they can have no conception of the beauty of a freshly shot specimen such as were two of those which I brought down. I felt as if I could never tire of gazing at the wonderful tinting of the bird, here of a pale straw yellow with the feathers short and stiff like velvet, there of a rich chocolate with the neck covered with scales of metallic green. Their tails seemed to have, in place of centre feathers, a couple of long beautiful curving wires nearly a yard long; but the chief beauty of the birds was the great tuft of plumage which seemed to come out from beneath the wings, light and soft, quite two feet long, and all of a rich golden orange.It seems to me impossible to conceive a more lovely bird, and we took them in triumph to our hut, where we breakfasted, my uncle afterwards carefully making skins of all four.The other two were evidently younger birds, and had not their full plumage, but they were very beautiful and formed a splendid addition to the collection.
It would be tedious if I were to go on describing the almost endless varieties of birds we shot, glowing though they were with rainbow colours, and to keep repeating how we skinned and preserved this sun-bird, that pitta, or trogon, or lovely rose-tinted dove. Parrots and cockatoos we found without number, and as we selected only the finest specimens, our collection rapidly increased, so fast, indeed, by steady work, that I began to understand how my uncle had brought so great a number from the West.
But still one of the great objects of our visit to this part of the world had not been achieved; we had shot no birds of paradise; and these were scarce things in England at the time of which I write.
There were plenty of rough specimens of their plumage worn in ladies’ bonnets; but a fair, well-preserved skin was hardly known, those brought to England being roughly dried by the natives; so at last my uncle declared that no more birds should be shot and skinned until we had obtained specimens of some at least of the lovely creatures whose cries we often heard about us, but which tantalisingly kept out of shot.
It was a difficult task, but we at last made Ebo understand that we must shoot some of these birds, when by his way he seemed to indicate that if we had only told him sooner we might have had as many as we liked.
That very day he obtained a good little store of provisions, shouldered his spear, and went off by himself, and we saw no more of him for forty-eight hours, when he came back in the most unconcerned way, just as if he had never been out of sight, and sat down and ate all that we put before him.
After that he lay down and went to sleep for some hours, waking up ready to dance around us, chattering vehemently until we had finished the skins we were preserving, when he signed to us to take our guns and to follow him.
We obeyed him, but he did not seem satisfied until we had collected some provision as well, when once more he set off, taking us through a part of the island we had not visited before, and, if anything, more beautiful than that we had.
It was a long journey he took us, and we could have secured hundreds of brilliantly coloured birds, but we only shot a few large ones, such as we knew to be good food, ready for our halt by the camp fire, for it seemed that we were not to return to our hut that night.
Over hillsides, down in valleys where tree-ferns sprang up, of the most beautifully laced fronds, great groves of palms and clumps of cocoa-nut trees, some of whose fruit Ebo climbed and got for us, and still we went on, avoiding the marshy-looking spots which experience had taught us to be the home of the serpents, which, in very small numbers, inhabited the isle.
Several times over we looked inquiringly at Ebo, but he only smiled and pointed forward, and we followed him till he stopped suddenly and showed us some wood ready for making a fire.
Here we had a welcome rest and a hearty meal, but he did not let us stay long, hurrying us forward, till, just before sundown, he brought us to a dense patch of forest, with huge trees towering upward and spreading their branches, making an impenetrable shade.
“It will be too dark to travel far here to-night, Nat,” said my uncle. “Where does he mean to go? But this ought to be the place for the birds of paradise, Nat, if we are to get any.”
Just then Ebo stopped, and we found a rough hut of leaves with a bed of fern already waiting for us, this having been part of his work during his prolonged absence.
His delight knew no bounds as he saw that we were pleased, and as usual he indulged in a dance, after which he caught us in turn by the arm and tried very hard to explain that the birds of paradise were plentiful here.
We were too tired to think about anything much besides sleep, and very gladly crept into our hut, to sleep so soundly without a single thought of serpents or huge apes, that I seemed hardly to have closed my eyes, and felt exceedingly grumpy and indisposed to move when Ebo began shaking me to get me up.
“All right!” I said, and then, as I lay still with my eyes closed, Ebo kept on:
“Hawk, hawk, hawk; kwok, kwok, kwok;” and it seemed so stupid of him, but there it was again; “Hawk, hawk, hawk; kwok, kwok, kwok.”
“Come, Nat,” cried my uncle; “unbutton those eyelids, boy, and get up. Don’t you hear the birds calling?”
“I thought it was Ebo, uncle,” I said. “Oh! I am so sleepy.”
“Never mind the sleepiness, Nat. Come along and let’s see if we cannot get some good specimens.”
Just then I saw Ebo’s face in the opening, and cutting a yawn right in half I followed my uncle out into the darkness, for though the birds of paradise were calling, there was no sign of day.
But if we wished for success I felt that we must get beneath the trees unseen, and, examining my gun, I followed my uncle, who in turn kept close behind Ebo.
The black went forward very cautiously, and looking very strange and misty in the darkness; but he evidently knew what he was about, going along amongst the great tree trunks without a sound, while we followed as lightly as we could.
On all sides we could hear the hoarse cries of the birds, which we felt must be in good numbers, and I felt less sleepiness now in the fresh morning air, and a curious feeling of excitement came over me as I thought of the lovely amber plumes of these birds, and wondered whether I should be fortunate enough to bring one down.
All at once Ebo stopped beneath an enormous tree, and as we crept up close to its mighty trunk we gazed up into the darkness and could here and there catch a glimpse of a star; in fact, so black was it, that but for the cries of the various birds we heard, it might have been taken for the middle of the night.
There was nothing to see but an almost opaque blackness, though now and then I fancied I could make out a great branch crossing above my head. It seemed nonsense to have come, but the loud cry of one of the birds we sought, sounded loudly just then and silenced my doubts. I raised my gun ready for a shot, but could see nothing.
Just then my uncle whispered with his lips to my ear: “Don’t make a sound, and don’t fire till you have a good chance. Look out.”
The loud quok, quok, quok, was answered from a distance, repeated above our heads, and then there was the whistle of wings plainly heard in the solemn silence of the forest, and all this repeated again overhead till it seemed as if we were just beneath a tree where the birds of paradise met for discussion, like the rooks at home in the elms. But no matter how I strained my eyes I could not distinguish a single bird.
The minutes went by, and I longed for the light, for though I knew it would betray our presence, still I might catch sight of one bird and bring it down. But the light did not come, and as my arms ached with holding up my gun I lowered it, and patiently waited with my heart beating heavily, as I listened to the cries that were on the increase.
All at once I felt an arm glide over my shoulder, and I could just make out that Ebo was pointing upward with his black finger steadily in one direction.
I tried to follow it but could see nothing, and I was thinking how much better a savage’s sight was than ours, when from out of the darkness there came the hoarse “Hawk, hawk, hawk; quok, quok, quok,” and as the cry seemed to direct my eye, I fancied that I could see something moving slightly at a very great height, bowing and strutting like a pigeon. I looked and looked again and could not see it; then a star that was peeping through the leaves seemed to be suddenly hidden, and there was the movement again.
I forgot all about my uncle’s orders about not firing until I had a good chance, and taking a steady aim at the dimly seen spot just as the hoarse cry arose once more, I drew the trigger.
The flash from my gun seemed to cut the blackness, and the report went echoing away amongst the trees; then there was a sharp rustling noise, and a dull, quick thud, and I was about to spring forward and seek for what I had shot, but Ebo’s arms closed round me and held me fast.
I understood what he meant, and contented myself with reloading my gun, the click of the lock sounding very loud in the silence that had ensued, for the report of my gun had caused a complete cessation of all cries, and I felt that we should get no more shots for some time; but all the same I had heard no rush of wings as of a flock of birds taking flight, and I wondered whether any of them were still in the dense top of the tree.
Five or ten minutes must have elapsed, and then once more Ebo’s arm glided over my shoulder and rested there, while I laid my cheek against it, and gazed in quite another direction now till I fancied I saw what he was pointing at, but which looked like nothing but a dark spot high up amongst the twigs; in fact, when I did make it out I felt sure that it was a nest.
But I recalled how accurate Ebo had been before, and once more taking aim, making it the more careful by leaning my gun barrel against the trunk of the tree, I fired; there was a quick rustle of leaves and twigs, and another dull thud, but no one moved.
After a few minutes’ waiting Ebo pointed out another, whatever it was, for I was still in doubt as to whether these were birds of paradise that I had shot, for the silence had not been broken since I fired first.
I took a quicker aim this time and drew the trigger, and once more there was a heavy fall through the branches, and then as if by magic it seemed to be daylight, and I saw several big birds dotted about the tree.
Uncle Dick and I fired together, and then came a rush of wings as another bird fell, the loud cries being repeated from a distance; while Ebo, evidently considering that it was of no more use to wait, ran out to pick up the birds.
Only one bird had fallen when my uncle and I fired together, for I believe I missed; but as Ebo and I picked up the result of our expedition here the sun rose, and in the bright light that came between the trees we stood gazing in ecstasy at the lovely creatures.
“Oh, uncle!”
That was all I could say for some time.
“I think it ought to be ‘Oh, Nat!’” he replied laughing. “Why, you young dog, what eyes you have! you got all the luck.”
“Oh no, uncle,” I said laughing; “I shot with Ebo’s eyes.”
“Then next time I’ll do the same,” he said.
“But let’s go and shoot some more,” I said excitedly.
“No, Nat, we shall get no more of these to-day. I suppose it will only be by hiding in the darkness beneath the trees they frequent that we shall have any success. They are wonderfully shy, and no wonder when they have such plumage to protect.”
I suppose most people have seen specimens of the great bird of paradise, but they can have no conception of the beauty of a freshly shot specimen such as were two of those which I brought down. I felt as if I could never tire of gazing at the wonderful tinting of the bird, here of a pale straw yellow with the feathers short and stiff like velvet, there of a rich chocolate with the neck covered with scales of metallic green. Their tails seemed to have, in place of centre feathers, a couple of long beautiful curving wires nearly a yard long; but the chief beauty of the birds was the great tuft of plumage which seemed to come out from beneath the wings, light and soft, quite two feet long, and all of a rich golden orange.
It seems to me impossible to conceive a more lovely bird, and we took them in triumph to our hut, where we breakfasted, my uncle afterwards carefully making skins of all four.
The other two were evidently younger birds, and had not their full plumage, but they were very beautiful and formed a splendid addition to the collection.
Chapter Thirty Seven.Beauties in Plume.Our work done, my uncle decided that we should stay here for a couple of days at least, even if we did not afterwards come round to this side of the island, for our good fortune was not yet at an end. In taking a look round, towards mid-day we heard a harsh cry, and by means of a little stalking Uncle Dick got within shot and brought down a bird that was almost as beautiful as those we shot before daylight.This had shorter plumes of a rich red, but it had two long double curved wires in its tail, and its upper plumage was more plush-like and richer in its colours. The metallic green was more vivid, the golden yellow a colour which was most bright upon its neck and shoulders.Almost directly after I shot a big dull brown bird which gave me no satisfaction at all; but Uncle Dick was delighted, saying that it was the female bird of the kind we had shot, and we decided that it was the red bird of paradise.Even then we had not come to the end of our good fortune, for after passing over hundreds of sun-birds, pittas, and trogons, such as we should have been only too glad to meet a short time back, my uncle suddenly raised his gun and fired at what seemed to be, from where I stood, a couple of sturdy-looking starlings.One fell, and Uncle Dick shouted to me as the second bird came in my direction.I made a quick shot at it just as it was darting among some bushes, and brought it down, and on running to pick it up I found that I had shot something entirely fresh to me.“Well done, Nat!” cried my uncle. “Mine is only the hen bird. What a lovely little creature, to be sure! It is a gem.”“What is it, uncle?” I said.“Evidently a paradise bird, my boy.”It was a curious little short-tailed fellow, but wonderful in its colours; while from the centre of the dumpy tail sprang two wires of about six inches long, which formed two flat spiral curls at the end, and of a most intense green. Instead of the long plumes of the birds we shot before—birds three times the size of this—it had under each wing a little tuft of grey, tipped with green, which the bird could set up like tiny tans. The whole of the upper surface was of a rich red, and the under part of a glistening floss-silky or glass-thready white, but relieved here and there with bands and patches of metallic green. There were shades of orange crimson here, and when I add that the bird’s legs were of a delicious blue, and its beak of orange yellow like a blackbird’s, you can realise how beautiful a creature I had shot.“There, Nat,” said my uncle, “we will do no more, only carefully preserve the treasures we have got.”But hardly had he spoken before he fired again and brought down another bird, which was again a wonder. It seemed about the size of the last, but was entirely different, though sufficiently similar to mark it as a paradise bird. It had nearly as short a tail, with the two central wires crossed, but instead of forming the beautiful curves of the other with the flat disc at the end, these wires ended in a point and curled round so as to form a circle. The prevailing colours were orange, buff, and yellow, but its great peculiarity was a couple of ruffs or capes of feathers hanging from the back of its neck, the upper one of a pale yellow, the lower of a reddish-brown.Uncle Dick was in as great a state of delight as I, and our pleasure seemed to be reflected upon Ebo, who showed his satisfaction at having brought us to the place, by shouldering his spear and striding up and down with one hand upon his hip, as if proud of his position as companion of the white man.The time glided by very fast during our stay at the island, where we found plenty of fruit, as many fish as we liked to catch, and abundance of large pigeons and other birds to help our larder. The climate was hot, but the breezes that came from the sea always seemed to modify the heat and make it bearable. Several storms occurred, during which the trees bent before the fury of the blast, and the waves piled the sands high with weeds and shells. The lightning was terrific and the thunder deafening. At times it was awful, and a curious scared feeling used at first to come over me. But I soon grew used to the storms, and as they were soon over, took but little notice of them, except to enjoy the delicious freshness of the air that seemed afterwards to make everything ten times more beautiful than it was before.It would become wearisome if I kept on writing of the beauty of the different varieties of the birds of paradise we found, and the lovely tinting and arrangement of their plumes; let it be sufficient when I tell you that scarcely a day passed without Ebo finding some fresh specimen for us to shoot, and then dancing round with the delight of a boy as we skinned and preserved the new treasure. Sometimes we had a beetle day, sometimes a butterfly day, collecting the loveliest specimens; but birds formed our principal pursuit, and our cases began to present a goodly aspect as we packed in carefully the well-dried aromatic skins.I had had one or two more slight touches of fever, and my uncle was poorly once, but he so skilfully treated us both that the disease was soon mastered, and the trouble passed over. Taken altogether, though, we found the island, in spite of the heat, a most delightful place of residence, and it was with feelings of real regret that I sat in our swift boat one day with the big sail set, skimming over the smooth sea, all our stores on board, and Uncle Dick at the helm steering due north, for we had bidden the beautiful island farewell, and its shores were beginning to grow distant to our eyes.
Our work done, my uncle decided that we should stay here for a couple of days at least, even if we did not afterwards come round to this side of the island, for our good fortune was not yet at an end. In taking a look round, towards mid-day we heard a harsh cry, and by means of a little stalking Uncle Dick got within shot and brought down a bird that was almost as beautiful as those we shot before daylight.
This had shorter plumes of a rich red, but it had two long double curved wires in its tail, and its upper plumage was more plush-like and richer in its colours. The metallic green was more vivid, the golden yellow a colour which was most bright upon its neck and shoulders.
Almost directly after I shot a big dull brown bird which gave me no satisfaction at all; but Uncle Dick was delighted, saying that it was the female bird of the kind we had shot, and we decided that it was the red bird of paradise.
Even then we had not come to the end of our good fortune, for after passing over hundreds of sun-birds, pittas, and trogons, such as we should have been only too glad to meet a short time back, my uncle suddenly raised his gun and fired at what seemed to be, from where I stood, a couple of sturdy-looking starlings.
One fell, and Uncle Dick shouted to me as the second bird came in my direction.
I made a quick shot at it just as it was darting among some bushes, and brought it down, and on running to pick it up I found that I had shot something entirely fresh to me.
“Well done, Nat!” cried my uncle. “Mine is only the hen bird. What a lovely little creature, to be sure! It is a gem.”
“What is it, uncle?” I said.
“Evidently a paradise bird, my boy.”
It was a curious little short-tailed fellow, but wonderful in its colours; while from the centre of the dumpy tail sprang two wires of about six inches long, which formed two flat spiral curls at the end, and of a most intense green. Instead of the long plumes of the birds we shot before—birds three times the size of this—it had under each wing a little tuft of grey, tipped with green, which the bird could set up like tiny tans. The whole of the upper surface was of a rich red, and the under part of a glistening floss-silky or glass-thready white, but relieved here and there with bands and patches of metallic green. There were shades of orange crimson here, and when I add that the bird’s legs were of a delicious blue, and its beak of orange yellow like a blackbird’s, you can realise how beautiful a creature I had shot.
“There, Nat,” said my uncle, “we will do no more, only carefully preserve the treasures we have got.”
But hardly had he spoken before he fired again and brought down another bird, which was again a wonder. It seemed about the size of the last, but was entirely different, though sufficiently similar to mark it as a paradise bird. It had nearly as short a tail, with the two central wires crossed, but instead of forming the beautiful curves of the other with the flat disc at the end, these wires ended in a point and curled round so as to form a circle. The prevailing colours were orange, buff, and yellow, but its great peculiarity was a couple of ruffs or capes of feathers hanging from the back of its neck, the upper one of a pale yellow, the lower of a reddish-brown.
Uncle Dick was in as great a state of delight as I, and our pleasure seemed to be reflected upon Ebo, who showed his satisfaction at having brought us to the place, by shouldering his spear and striding up and down with one hand upon his hip, as if proud of his position as companion of the white man.
The time glided by very fast during our stay at the island, where we found plenty of fruit, as many fish as we liked to catch, and abundance of large pigeons and other birds to help our larder. The climate was hot, but the breezes that came from the sea always seemed to modify the heat and make it bearable. Several storms occurred, during which the trees bent before the fury of the blast, and the waves piled the sands high with weeds and shells. The lightning was terrific and the thunder deafening. At times it was awful, and a curious scared feeling used at first to come over me. But I soon grew used to the storms, and as they were soon over, took but little notice of them, except to enjoy the delicious freshness of the air that seemed afterwards to make everything ten times more beautiful than it was before.
It would become wearisome if I kept on writing of the beauty of the different varieties of the birds of paradise we found, and the lovely tinting and arrangement of their plumes; let it be sufficient when I tell you that scarcely a day passed without Ebo finding some fresh specimen for us to shoot, and then dancing round with the delight of a boy as we skinned and preserved the new treasure. Sometimes we had a beetle day, sometimes a butterfly day, collecting the loveliest specimens; but birds formed our principal pursuit, and our cases began to present a goodly aspect as we packed in carefully the well-dried aromatic skins.
I had had one or two more slight touches of fever, and my uncle was poorly once, but he so skilfully treated us both that the disease was soon mastered, and the trouble passed over. Taken altogether, though, we found the island, in spite of the heat, a most delightful place of residence, and it was with feelings of real regret that I sat in our swift boat one day with the big sail set, skimming over the smooth sea, all our stores on board, and Uncle Dick at the helm steering due north, for we had bidden the beautiful island farewell, and its shores were beginning to grow distant to our eyes.
Chapter Thirty Eight.Ebo does not approve of New Guinea for Reasons that appear.It did not seem to matter to Ebo where we went so long as he was with us. He must have been a man of five-and-thirty, and he was brave as a lion—as the lion is said to be in the story, for in reality he is a great sneak—but Ebo seemed to have the heart of a boy. He was ready to laugh when I did, and sit by me when I was ill or tired, his face full of sympathy, and no sooner was I better than it was the signal for a triumphal dance.Ebo was as happy now as could be. It did not matter to him where we were going, and he laughed and chattered and pointed out the fish to me as we skimmed over the shallow water of the coral reefs, sometimes approaching islands whose names we did not know, and which were apparently too small to be down in the chart; but whatever temptations they might hold out my uncle steered right on due north, and on the evening of the second day there was land stretching east and west as far as we could see.“Now, Nat,” he cried, “where is your geography? what place is that?”“I should say it must be New Guinea, uncle,” I said.“Quite right, my boy. Hallo! what’s the matter with Ebo?”That gentleman had been lying down in the bottom of the boat fast asleep for the past three hours, as he was to sit up and bear me company through a part of the night; but having woke up and caught sight of the land he seemed to have become furious.Having been with us now so long, he had picked up a good many words, just as we had picked up a good many of his, so that by their help and signs we got along pretty well. But now it was quite startling to see his excitement. He seemed so agitated that he could only recollect the wordno, and this he kept on repeating as he dashed at me and then left me, to run to my uncle, seizing the tiller and trying to drag it round so as to alter the direction of the boat.“No, no, no, no, no!” he cried. Then pointing to the land he came at me, caught up his spear, and I thought he was going to kill me, for he made a savage thrust at me which went right past my arm; dropped the spear, caught up his club, forced back my head over the gunwale of the boat, raised his club and made believe to beat me to death, hammering the boat side with all his might. After this he made a sham attack upon my uncle, who, however, took it coolly, and only laughed after seeing the attack upon me, though I had noticed one hand go to his gun when Ebo made at me with the spear.After the black had worked himself up into a perspiration, instead of, as I expected, bursting out laughing, he kept on pointing to the land, crying, “No, no, no!” and then, “Kill bird, kill man, Nat, mi boy, kill Ung-kul Dit; kill Ebo. No, no, no!”“You mean that the savages will kill us if we land?” I said.“Kill, kill,” he cried, nodding his head excitedly, and banging the side of the boat with his club; “kill, kill, kill. Kill Ebo, kill Nat, mi boy, kill Ung-kul Dit, kill boat, kill, kill. No, no, no!”“Well done, Ebo!” cried my uncle laughing. “Your English is splendid. Good boy.”“Ebo, good boy,” cried the black. “No, no, no. Kill, kill.”“They sha’n’t kill us, Ebo,” said my uncle, taking up his gun and pointing it at the shore; while, to make his meaning clearer, I did the same. “Shoot—kill man.”“Shoot! kill!” cried Ebo, who evidently understood, for he picked up his spear, and thrust with it fiercely towards the shore. “Yes, shoot; kill man,” he continued, nodding his head; but he seemed very much dissatisfied and gazed intently towards the distant land.“He seems to know the character of the New Guinea savages, Nat,” said Uncle Dick. “I have always heard that they are a fierce and cruel set, but we shall soon see whether it is safe to land.”We sailed gently on, for it turned out a glorious moonlight night, and altering our course a little we were at sunrise within a couple of miles of what seemed to be a very beautiful country, wooded to the shore, and rising up inland to towering mountains. Great trees seemed to prevail everywhere, but we saw no sign of human being.“The place looks very tempting, Nat,” said uncle, “and if we can hit upon an uninhabited part I expect that we should find some capital specimens for our cases. Let us see what the place is like.”Ebo tried in his fashion to dissuade us from going farther, and it was evident that the poor fellow was terrible uneasy as the boat was run in close to the shore, when all at once about a dozen nude black savages came running down to the water’s edge, making signs to us to land, and holding up bunches of bright feathers and rough skins of birds.“They look friendly, Nat,” said my uncle.“Look here; I will land and take them a few presents in beads and brass wire; we shall soon see if they mean mischief.”“I’ll come with you, uncle,” I said.“No; you stop with the boat and keep her afloat. Here are the guns all ready loaded. I don’t suppose there will be any danger; but if there is, you must pepper the enemy with small shot to keep them back—that is, of course, if you see them attack me.”“Hadn’t I better come, uncle?”“No; I shall take Ebo. They may be as simple-hearted and friendly as the others we have met, and this country must be so grand a collecting ground that I cannot afford to be scared away by what may be false reports raised by people who have behaved ill to the natives.”He took out a few strings of brightly coloured beads and a little roll of brass wire, and waved them in the air, when the savages shouted and kept on making signs to us to land.We were only about twenty yards from the sandy shore now, and we could see every expression of face of the New Guinea men, as my uncle threw one leg over the side and then stood up to his knees in the clear water.“Kill Ung-kul Dit,” said Ebo, clinging to his arm.“No, no! Come,” replied my uncle.Ebo’s club was already in hislingouti, and picking up his spear he too leaped into the water, while I sat down in the boat with the barrel of my gun resting on the gunwale as the sail flapped and the boat rocked softly to and fro.The people seemed to be delighted as my uncle waded in; but I noted that they carefully avoided wetting their own feet, keeping on the dry sand talking eagerly among themselves; and though I looked attentively I could see no sign of arms.So peaceful and good-tempered did they all look that I was completely thrown off my guard, and wondered how Ebo could be so cowardly as to keep about a yard behind my uncle, who walked up to them fearlessly, and held out his hand with a string of beads.The New Guinea men chattered and seemed delighted, holding out their hands and catching eagerly at the beads, snatching them from the giver’s hands, and asking apparently for more.I saw Uncle Dick sign to them that he wanted some of their birds in exchange.They understood him, for they held out two or three skins, and he advanced a step to take them; but they were snatched back directly, and, as if by magic, the savages thrust their hands behind them, and in an instant each man was flourishing a war-club.It all seemed to happen in a moment, and my heart seemed to stand still as I saw one treacherous savage, over six feet high, strike my uncle over the head with his club, my poor uncle falling as if he had been killed.It was now that I saw why Ebo had held back behind my uncle, and it was fortunate that the faithful fellow had followed the guidance of his own reason. For as, in the midst of a tremendous shouting and yelling, the tall savage bent forward to again strike my uncle I saw Ebo’s lance point strike him in the throat, and he went down.This checked the savages for an instant, long enough to enable the black to stoop down and get a good grip of Uncle Dick’s collar with his left hand, while with his right he kept making darts with his spear at the yelling savages who kept striking at him with their clubs.So tremendous and so true were Ebo’s thrusts that I saw another great black go down, and a couple more run yelling back towards the dense cover from which they had come; but Ebo was in a very critical position. My uncle was heavy, and the black had hard work to drag him over the sand towards the boat, and keep his enemies at bay.It was now that I saw what a brave warrior and chief our follower must be; but I also saw how his enemies had formed a half circle and were trying to get behind him and cut him off from the boat.For the first few moments I had felt helpless; then I had determined to leap over and go to their help; then I saw that I was best where I was, and took aim, ready to fire at the first chance, for I could do nothing at first for fear of injuring my friends. And besides, a horrible feeling of compunction had come upon me at the thought of having to fire at men—fellow creatures—and I shrank from drawing trigger.At last, though, I saw that further hesitation would be fatal. Ebo was making a brave defence, and had wounded several of his assailants as he dragged my uncle to the water’s edge. Another step and he could have waded, easily dragging my uncle over the water, but his enemies had made a savage dash, and one of the boldest had got hold of his spear.Another moment and he would have been struck down, when, hesitating no longer, I took quick aim and fired right into the thick of the black group as far on one side of my uncle as I could.As the report rang out, and the stinging shot hissed and scattered, injuring several, they uttered fierce yells and separated for a moment, giving me a better chance to fire again, and I did with such effect that the savage who was dragging at Ebo’s spear loosed his hold, turned, and ran for his life.It was a golden moment for our black friend, who made a couple of darts with his freed weapon, and then backing rapidly drew my uncle through the water towards the boat.The savages were staggered by the shot from my gun. Many were wounded, but they were trifling small shot-wounds, which only infuriated them as they saw their prey escaping, and with a rush they came tearing through the water, whirling their clubs above their heads and yelling furiously.My blood was up now, and in those brief moments I saw our fate, that of being massacred by these treacherous ruthless wretches, to whom we had made offerings of peace and good-will. I seemed to see our battered boat, and then friends at home waiting for news of those who had sailed out here on a peaceful expedition, news that would never come; and a curious pang came over me as I felt that I must save Uncle Dick and his brave defender if I could.I had already picked up my uncle’s loaded double gun, and there were two rifles also loaded ready to my hand, so, taking careful aim now at the foremost of the savage crew just as they were pressing Ebo hard, I fired.I could not see for a moment for the smoke, but as it parted I saw that the men were close enough now for the shot to have much more serious effect. Two had fallen, but after a moment’s hesitation the others made a fresh rush, which I met with another shot, which checked them again; but though another man fell, and half a dozen more were streaming with blood, they only seemed the more infuriate and again came on.I did not even then like to use the fatal rifles, but found time to cram in a couple more cartridges, and by this time Ebo had dragged my uncle to the boat, stooped, lifted him in, and then with one hand upon the gunwale kept shoving her off, backing and wading, and thrusting with his spear at the fierce wretches who came on more savagely than ever.The boat moved slowly, but I was hot with excitement now, and I fired once at a savage who was striking at Ebo, then at a group, and then there was a dull heavy thud as a war-club that had been thrown with clever aim struck me full in the forehead, and I fell senseless in the bottom of the boat.
It did not seem to matter to Ebo where we went so long as he was with us. He must have been a man of five-and-thirty, and he was brave as a lion—as the lion is said to be in the story, for in reality he is a great sneak—but Ebo seemed to have the heart of a boy. He was ready to laugh when I did, and sit by me when I was ill or tired, his face full of sympathy, and no sooner was I better than it was the signal for a triumphal dance.
Ebo was as happy now as could be. It did not matter to him where we were going, and he laughed and chattered and pointed out the fish to me as we skimmed over the shallow water of the coral reefs, sometimes approaching islands whose names we did not know, and which were apparently too small to be down in the chart; but whatever temptations they might hold out my uncle steered right on due north, and on the evening of the second day there was land stretching east and west as far as we could see.
“Now, Nat,” he cried, “where is your geography? what place is that?”
“I should say it must be New Guinea, uncle,” I said.
“Quite right, my boy. Hallo! what’s the matter with Ebo?”
That gentleman had been lying down in the bottom of the boat fast asleep for the past three hours, as he was to sit up and bear me company through a part of the night; but having woke up and caught sight of the land he seemed to have become furious.
Having been with us now so long, he had picked up a good many words, just as we had picked up a good many of his, so that by their help and signs we got along pretty well. But now it was quite startling to see his excitement. He seemed so agitated that he could only recollect the wordno, and this he kept on repeating as he dashed at me and then left me, to run to my uncle, seizing the tiller and trying to drag it round so as to alter the direction of the boat.
“No, no, no, no, no!” he cried. Then pointing to the land he came at me, caught up his spear, and I thought he was going to kill me, for he made a savage thrust at me which went right past my arm; dropped the spear, caught up his club, forced back my head over the gunwale of the boat, raised his club and made believe to beat me to death, hammering the boat side with all his might. After this he made a sham attack upon my uncle, who, however, took it coolly, and only laughed after seeing the attack upon me, though I had noticed one hand go to his gun when Ebo made at me with the spear.
After the black had worked himself up into a perspiration, instead of, as I expected, bursting out laughing, he kept on pointing to the land, crying, “No, no, no!” and then, “Kill bird, kill man, Nat, mi boy, kill Ung-kul Dit; kill Ebo. No, no, no!”
“You mean that the savages will kill us if we land?” I said.
“Kill, kill,” he cried, nodding his head excitedly, and banging the side of the boat with his club; “kill, kill, kill. Kill Ebo, kill Nat, mi boy, kill Ung-kul Dit, kill boat, kill, kill. No, no, no!”
“Well done, Ebo!” cried my uncle laughing. “Your English is splendid. Good boy.”
“Ebo, good boy,” cried the black. “No, no, no. Kill, kill.”
“They sha’n’t kill us, Ebo,” said my uncle, taking up his gun and pointing it at the shore; while, to make his meaning clearer, I did the same. “Shoot—kill man.”
“Shoot! kill!” cried Ebo, who evidently understood, for he picked up his spear, and thrust with it fiercely towards the shore. “Yes, shoot; kill man,” he continued, nodding his head; but he seemed very much dissatisfied and gazed intently towards the distant land.
“He seems to know the character of the New Guinea savages, Nat,” said Uncle Dick. “I have always heard that they are a fierce and cruel set, but we shall soon see whether it is safe to land.”
We sailed gently on, for it turned out a glorious moonlight night, and altering our course a little we were at sunrise within a couple of miles of what seemed to be a very beautiful country, wooded to the shore, and rising up inland to towering mountains. Great trees seemed to prevail everywhere, but we saw no sign of human being.
“The place looks very tempting, Nat,” said uncle, “and if we can hit upon an uninhabited part I expect that we should find some capital specimens for our cases. Let us see what the place is like.”
Ebo tried in his fashion to dissuade us from going farther, and it was evident that the poor fellow was terrible uneasy as the boat was run in close to the shore, when all at once about a dozen nude black savages came running down to the water’s edge, making signs to us to land, and holding up bunches of bright feathers and rough skins of birds.
“They look friendly, Nat,” said my uncle.
“Look here; I will land and take them a few presents in beads and brass wire; we shall soon see if they mean mischief.”
“I’ll come with you, uncle,” I said.
“No; you stop with the boat and keep her afloat. Here are the guns all ready loaded. I don’t suppose there will be any danger; but if there is, you must pepper the enemy with small shot to keep them back—that is, of course, if you see them attack me.”
“Hadn’t I better come, uncle?”
“No; I shall take Ebo. They may be as simple-hearted and friendly as the others we have met, and this country must be so grand a collecting ground that I cannot afford to be scared away by what may be false reports raised by people who have behaved ill to the natives.”
He took out a few strings of brightly coloured beads and a little roll of brass wire, and waved them in the air, when the savages shouted and kept on making signs to us to land.
We were only about twenty yards from the sandy shore now, and we could see every expression of face of the New Guinea men, as my uncle threw one leg over the side and then stood up to his knees in the clear water.
“Kill Ung-kul Dit,” said Ebo, clinging to his arm.
“No, no! Come,” replied my uncle.
Ebo’s club was already in hislingouti, and picking up his spear he too leaped into the water, while I sat down in the boat with the barrel of my gun resting on the gunwale as the sail flapped and the boat rocked softly to and fro.
The people seemed to be delighted as my uncle waded in; but I noted that they carefully avoided wetting their own feet, keeping on the dry sand talking eagerly among themselves; and though I looked attentively I could see no sign of arms.
So peaceful and good-tempered did they all look that I was completely thrown off my guard, and wondered how Ebo could be so cowardly as to keep about a yard behind my uncle, who walked up to them fearlessly, and held out his hand with a string of beads.
The New Guinea men chattered and seemed delighted, holding out their hands and catching eagerly at the beads, snatching them from the giver’s hands, and asking apparently for more.
I saw Uncle Dick sign to them that he wanted some of their birds in exchange.
They understood him, for they held out two or three skins, and he advanced a step to take them; but they were snatched back directly, and, as if by magic, the savages thrust their hands behind them, and in an instant each man was flourishing a war-club.
It all seemed to happen in a moment, and my heart seemed to stand still as I saw one treacherous savage, over six feet high, strike my uncle over the head with his club, my poor uncle falling as if he had been killed.
It was now that I saw why Ebo had held back behind my uncle, and it was fortunate that the faithful fellow had followed the guidance of his own reason. For as, in the midst of a tremendous shouting and yelling, the tall savage bent forward to again strike my uncle I saw Ebo’s lance point strike him in the throat, and he went down.
This checked the savages for an instant, long enough to enable the black to stoop down and get a good grip of Uncle Dick’s collar with his left hand, while with his right he kept making darts with his spear at the yelling savages who kept striking at him with their clubs.
So tremendous and so true were Ebo’s thrusts that I saw another great black go down, and a couple more run yelling back towards the dense cover from which they had come; but Ebo was in a very critical position. My uncle was heavy, and the black had hard work to drag him over the sand towards the boat, and keep his enemies at bay.
It was now that I saw what a brave warrior and chief our follower must be; but I also saw how his enemies had formed a half circle and were trying to get behind him and cut him off from the boat.
For the first few moments I had felt helpless; then I had determined to leap over and go to their help; then I saw that I was best where I was, and took aim, ready to fire at the first chance, for I could do nothing at first for fear of injuring my friends. And besides, a horrible feeling of compunction had come upon me at the thought of having to fire at men—fellow creatures—and I shrank from drawing trigger.
At last, though, I saw that further hesitation would be fatal. Ebo was making a brave defence, and had wounded several of his assailants as he dragged my uncle to the water’s edge. Another step and he could have waded, easily dragging my uncle over the water, but his enemies had made a savage dash, and one of the boldest had got hold of his spear.
Another moment and he would have been struck down, when, hesitating no longer, I took quick aim and fired right into the thick of the black group as far on one side of my uncle as I could.
As the report rang out, and the stinging shot hissed and scattered, injuring several, they uttered fierce yells and separated for a moment, giving me a better chance to fire again, and I did with such effect that the savage who was dragging at Ebo’s spear loosed his hold, turned, and ran for his life.
It was a golden moment for our black friend, who made a couple of darts with his freed weapon, and then backing rapidly drew my uncle through the water towards the boat.
The savages were staggered by the shot from my gun. Many were wounded, but they were trifling small shot-wounds, which only infuriated them as they saw their prey escaping, and with a rush they came tearing through the water, whirling their clubs above their heads and yelling furiously.
My blood was up now, and in those brief moments I saw our fate, that of being massacred by these treacherous ruthless wretches, to whom we had made offerings of peace and good-will. I seemed to see our battered boat, and then friends at home waiting for news of those who had sailed out here on a peaceful expedition, news that would never come; and a curious pang came over me as I felt that I must save Uncle Dick and his brave defender if I could.
I had already picked up my uncle’s loaded double gun, and there were two rifles also loaded ready to my hand, so, taking careful aim now at the foremost of the savage crew just as they were pressing Ebo hard, I fired.
I could not see for a moment for the smoke, but as it parted I saw that the men were close enough now for the shot to have much more serious effect. Two had fallen, but after a moment’s hesitation the others made a fresh rush, which I met with another shot, which checked them again; but though another man fell, and half a dozen more were streaming with blood, they only seemed the more infuriate and again came on.
I did not even then like to use the fatal rifles, but found time to cram in a couple more cartridges, and by this time Ebo had dragged my uncle to the boat, stooped, lifted him in, and then with one hand upon the gunwale kept shoving her off, backing and wading, and thrusting with his spear at the fierce wretches who came on more savagely than ever.
The boat moved slowly, but I was hot with excitement now, and I fired once at a savage who was striking at Ebo, then at a group, and then there was a dull heavy thud as a war-club that had been thrown with clever aim struck me full in the forehead, and I fell senseless in the bottom of the boat.
Chapter Thirty Nine.Ebo’s Song of Triumph.When I came to, it was with a terrible pain in my head, and a misty feeling of having been taken by the savages, who had laid me down and were having a war-dance of triumph around me.“Hi, yi, yi—Hi, yi, yi—Hi, yi, yi!”Then it kept on in a shrill tone till it seemed, as my head ached so badly, almost maddening.At last I raised my heavy eyelids and saw that instead of lying on the sand surrounded by savages, I was some distance from the shore and in the boat. I could dimly see, as through a mist, the savages on the beach, and they were shouting, yelling, and threatening us with their war-clubs; but it was Ebo who was apparently about to dance the bottom out of the boat, and keeping up that abominable “Hi, yi, yi!” his song of triumph for the victory he had won.“Hi, yi, yi—Hi, yi, yi—Hi, yi, yi!hey!”TheHey! was accompanied by a tremendous jump, and a flourish of the spear at the savages on shore, whom the defiance seemed to madden as they rushed about furiously waving their clubs and yelling with all their might. Sometimes they dashed into the water right to their chests, some swam out with their war-clubs in their teeth, and some went through a pantomime in which we were all supposed to be beaten down and being pounded into jelly upon the shore.All this delighted Ebo, who varied his war-song by making derisive gestures, showing his utter contempt for his cowardly enemies, all of which seemed to sting them to fury, and I began to wonder how we should get on if they had canoes.For our boat was floating gently along about sixty yards from the shore with the sail flapping about, the current driving her away, but the rollers carrying her in.At first I could do nothing but sit there and gaze, sometimes at Ebo, and sometimes at the savages. Then in a sleepy stupid way I looked at my uncle, who was lying in the bottom of the boat with his eyes closed and perfectly motionless.Somehow my state then did not trouble me much, only that I wished my head would not ache quite so badly. I was quite aware that we were in danger, but that seemed to be quite natural; and at last I began to wonder why I did not begin doing something, and why my uncle did not get up.At last it seemed to occur to Ebo that it was time for him to finish shouting, and he laid his spear down, came to me, and lifted me, so that my head was over the side of the boat, and he then scooped up the cool water and bathed my face, with such satisfactory effect that I was able to think clearly; and thanking him, I was about to perform a similar duty for my uncle, when, to my horror, I saw a crowd of savages running a couple of canoes over the sands, evidently to launch them, and finish the treacherous work that they had begun.For a few moments I felt paralysed, but recovering myself I made a sign to Ebo, hoisted the great sail to its fullest height, and as the boat careened over I hurried aft to the tiller and the sail began slowly to fill, and our boat to move gently through the water.But never had it moved so slowly before, for the breeze was very light, and it seemed as if the savages must get their canoes launched, and have paddled out to us before we could get up any speed.They saw this, and kept on shouting and working with all their might, moving first one canoe and then the other to the edge of the water, launching them, springing in, and the next moment the air was black with paddles.Again an instant and the sea was foaming with their vigorous strokes.But for the fact that the canoes were very large and heavy and took time to get well in motion, we must have been overtaken, for the wind seemed to be playing with our sail, one moment filling it out, the next letting it flap idly as the boat rose and fell upon the waves.Seeing that I could do no more I fastened the tiller with a piece of cord and rapidly reloaded the guns, Ebo picking up his spear, and, to my horror, beginning to shout at and deride the savages.It would have made little difference, I suppose, for the blacks would have killed us without mercy had they overhauled us, and that they seemed certain to do, for they were paddling steadily and well, their blades being plunged into the water with the greatest regularity, making it foam and sparkle as they swept along.So fast did they seem to come, uttering in chorus a sort of war-cry at each plunge of the paddles, that I wondered why they did not overhaul us, so slowly did we seem to move, and at last, as they got their canoes in full swing, they came on hand over hand, getting so near that the men in the bows made ready their spears to hurl, and I raised my gun, meaning to make as brave an end as I could.I was too much excited to feel frightened now. I suppose there was not time, all my thoughts being turned upon the acts of the savages, one of whom now threw a spear, which fell short.I took aim at him, but did not fire, thinking that I would reserve the shot till we were in greater danger, and hoping that a couple of well-directed charges might have the effect of deterring them from further pursuit. But still on they came just abreast, and it was evident that they meant to attack on each side of our poor little boat, which looked so small beside the long war-canoes, each of which contained about forty men.They uttered a loud yell now, for the boat seemed to stand still and the sail began to flap, and, somehow, just then, as I felt what dreadful danger we were in, I began thinking about Clapham Common, and running there in the sunshine, while Uncle Joe looked blandly on, evidently enjoying my pursuits.Just then half a dozen spears were thrown, and I nearly fell overboard, only saving myself by making a snatch at one of the stays.It was not that I was struck by a spear, but that the boat had given a leap and bent down till it seemed as if she would capsize. In fact she would have gone down with her sail flat upon the water if I had not eased off the sheet as she went slipping through the waves at a tremendous rate.It was a work of moments, and then when I turned my head it was to see that the canoes were double the distance behind, with the savages paddling furiously; but I saw that if the wind held, their case was like that of a pet spaniel running after a greyhound, for our boat kept careening over and literally racing through the sea.In five minutes I found that the canoes were so far behind that we had no more cause for fear, and, altering our course so as to sail gently on about a mile from the shore, I gave Ebo the sheet to hold, knelt down, bathed Uncle Dick’s face, and bound up a great cut that had laid open his head.My work had its reward, for, partly from the freshness of the water, partly from the pain I must have caused him, my uncle revived, stared wildly about him for a few minutes, and then, as he realised our position, he muttered a little to himself, and ended by shaking hands with me and Ebo, holding the black palm of the latter in his own for some moments, as he looked our follower in the face.“I was much to blame, Nat,” he said at last.“I ought to have been more guarded; but I could not think that these people were so treacherous.”
When I came to, it was with a terrible pain in my head, and a misty feeling of having been taken by the savages, who had laid me down and were having a war-dance of triumph around me.
“Hi, yi, yi—Hi, yi, yi—Hi, yi, yi!”
Then it kept on in a shrill tone till it seemed, as my head ached so badly, almost maddening.
At last I raised my heavy eyelids and saw that instead of lying on the sand surrounded by savages, I was some distance from the shore and in the boat. I could dimly see, as through a mist, the savages on the beach, and they were shouting, yelling, and threatening us with their war-clubs; but it was Ebo who was apparently about to dance the bottom out of the boat, and keeping up that abominable “Hi, yi, yi!” his song of triumph for the victory he had won.
“Hi, yi, yi—Hi, yi, yi—Hi, yi, yi!hey!”
TheHey! was accompanied by a tremendous jump, and a flourish of the spear at the savages on shore, whom the defiance seemed to madden as they rushed about furiously waving their clubs and yelling with all their might. Sometimes they dashed into the water right to their chests, some swam out with their war-clubs in their teeth, and some went through a pantomime in which we were all supposed to be beaten down and being pounded into jelly upon the shore.
All this delighted Ebo, who varied his war-song by making derisive gestures, showing his utter contempt for his cowardly enemies, all of which seemed to sting them to fury, and I began to wonder how we should get on if they had canoes.
For our boat was floating gently along about sixty yards from the shore with the sail flapping about, the current driving her away, but the rollers carrying her in.
At first I could do nothing but sit there and gaze, sometimes at Ebo, and sometimes at the savages. Then in a sleepy stupid way I looked at my uncle, who was lying in the bottom of the boat with his eyes closed and perfectly motionless.
Somehow my state then did not trouble me much, only that I wished my head would not ache quite so badly. I was quite aware that we were in danger, but that seemed to be quite natural; and at last I began to wonder why I did not begin doing something, and why my uncle did not get up.
At last it seemed to occur to Ebo that it was time for him to finish shouting, and he laid his spear down, came to me, and lifted me, so that my head was over the side of the boat, and he then scooped up the cool water and bathed my face, with such satisfactory effect that I was able to think clearly; and thanking him, I was about to perform a similar duty for my uncle, when, to my horror, I saw a crowd of savages running a couple of canoes over the sands, evidently to launch them, and finish the treacherous work that they had begun.
For a few moments I felt paralysed, but recovering myself I made a sign to Ebo, hoisted the great sail to its fullest height, and as the boat careened over I hurried aft to the tiller and the sail began slowly to fill, and our boat to move gently through the water.
But never had it moved so slowly before, for the breeze was very light, and it seemed as if the savages must get their canoes launched, and have paddled out to us before we could get up any speed.
They saw this, and kept on shouting and working with all their might, moving first one canoe and then the other to the edge of the water, launching them, springing in, and the next moment the air was black with paddles.
Again an instant and the sea was foaming with their vigorous strokes.
But for the fact that the canoes were very large and heavy and took time to get well in motion, we must have been overtaken, for the wind seemed to be playing with our sail, one moment filling it out, the next letting it flap idly as the boat rose and fell upon the waves.
Seeing that I could do no more I fastened the tiller with a piece of cord and rapidly reloaded the guns, Ebo picking up his spear, and, to my horror, beginning to shout at and deride the savages.
It would have made little difference, I suppose, for the blacks would have killed us without mercy had they overhauled us, and that they seemed certain to do, for they were paddling steadily and well, their blades being plunged into the water with the greatest regularity, making it foam and sparkle as they swept along.
So fast did they seem to come, uttering in chorus a sort of war-cry at each plunge of the paddles, that I wondered why they did not overhaul us, so slowly did we seem to move, and at last, as they got their canoes in full swing, they came on hand over hand, getting so near that the men in the bows made ready their spears to hurl, and I raised my gun, meaning to make as brave an end as I could.
I was too much excited to feel frightened now. I suppose there was not time, all my thoughts being turned upon the acts of the savages, one of whom now threw a spear, which fell short.
I took aim at him, but did not fire, thinking that I would reserve the shot till we were in greater danger, and hoping that a couple of well-directed charges might have the effect of deterring them from further pursuit. But still on they came just abreast, and it was evident that they meant to attack on each side of our poor little boat, which looked so small beside the long war-canoes, each of which contained about forty men.
They uttered a loud yell now, for the boat seemed to stand still and the sail began to flap, and, somehow, just then, as I felt what dreadful danger we were in, I began thinking about Clapham Common, and running there in the sunshine, while Uncle Joe looked blandly on, evidently enjoying my pursuits.
Just then half a dozen spears were thrown, and I nearly fell overboard, only saving myself by making a snatch at one of the stays.
It was not that I was struck by a spear, but that the boat had given a leap and bent down till it seemed as if she would capsize. In fact she would have gone down with her sail flat upon the water if I had not eased off the sheet as she went slipping through the waves at a tremendous rate.
It was a work of moments, and then when I turned my head it was to see that the canoes were double the distance behind, with the savages paddling furiously; but I saw that if the wind held, their case was like that of a pet spaniel running after a greyhound, for our boat kept careening over and literally racing through the sea.
In five minutes I found that the canoes were so far behind that we had no more cause for fear, and, altering our course so as to sail gently on about a mile from the shore, I gave Ebo the sheet to hold, knelt down, bathed Uncle Dick’s face, and bound up a great cut that had laid open his head.
My work had its reward, for, partly from the freshness of the water, partly from the pain I must have caused him, my uncle revived, stared wildly about him for a few minutes, and then, as he realised our position, he muttered a little to himself, and ended by shaking hands with me and Ebo, holding the black palm of the latter in his own for some moments, as he looked our follower in the face.
“I was much to blame, Nat,” he said at last.
“I ought to have been more guarded; but I could not think that these people were so treacherous.”