Chapter Eighteen.
The War Canoes.
Our breakfast that morning consisted of bananas, mangoes, and coconuts, all of which the island seemed to produce in profusion, as well, no doubt, as many other fruits, when we should have time to seek for them. At present our main concern was to establish ourselves in a shelter of some sort, where we should find complete protection in every kind of weather; and all expressed themselves as eager to inspect the cavern of which I had been telling them. To do this effectually torches were needed, and the means to kindle them. The latter was fortunately at hand in the shape of a large and powerful magnifying lens, with which Julius was fond of amusing himself and which he habitually carried in his pocket. With regard to torches—well, doubtless dry branches could be found lying about under the trees; or, failing these, flambeaux could be made of dry grass bound up into bundles. We decided that dry branches would best serve our purpose, and accordingly Julius and I plunged into the nearest clump of timber in search of what we required, quickly returning with a bundle each, as big as we could conveniently carry, bound together with long strips of “monkey rope”, of which there seemed to be an inexhaustible quantity in the woods. It was necessary to carry our fire with us, since the path we should have to traverse to reach the cave, as well as the cave itself, lay in a deep ravine, into which the sun’s rays struck only for about three hours during the course of a day. We therefore collected a little heap of dry grass and leaves, set fire to it by concentrating the sun’s rays upon it through Julius’s burning-glass, and from it ignited a branch, which I carried along with us.
The distance from our temporary camp to the cave was about a mile and a quarter, but we took nearly an hour to cover it, for directly we entered the gorge there were frequent pauses to admire the splendid vistas which every bend of the path opened out. But in due time we reached the cavern and entered it, when other torches were kindled, so that each member of the party might be provided with a light.
It soon became apparent that the cavern was spacious enough to accommodate a very much larger party than ours. It was so extensive, indeed, that we were obliged to defer its complete exploration for lack of a sufficient number of torches; but we saw enough of it to determine us to enter upon its occupation forthwith. Accordingly I made my way to the beach where we had left the boat, and proceeded to transfer our few belongings from her to the cavern. Those belongings were not very many, consisting, in fact, merely of the empty water breaker, the arms and ammunition, the carpenter’s chest, and the few planks that I had found afloat in the lagoon after the sinking of the wreck; and I succeeded in effecting the transfer of the whole before sunset.
Thus far I had been much too busy to attempt anything in the nature of an exploration of the entire island; but now that a safe shelter had been found for the party—and one capable of being very effectively defended, too, if the necessity should arise—I felt it was high time to make myself fully acquainted with our new home and its capabilities as at least a temporary abode. I was especially anxious to ascertain beyond all question whether it harboured any other inhabitants than ourselves; therefore, on the morning after we had installed ourselves in the cavern, I took a rifle, filled my pockets with cartridges, and set out with the intention of making the complete circuit of the island. I left Julius in charge, and warned my companions not to be anxious on my account, should I not return by nightfall, as I meant to take my time and explore the island thoroughly before returning.
Starting from the cavern immediately after breakfast, I proceeded southward, and, descending to the beach, indulged in a swim as a preliminary. Then, returning to the top of the cliff, I continued my way southward until I reached a point overlooking the harbour entrance, from which I struck inland toward one of the two inferior elevations previously mentioned.
The base of this mound was completely surrounded by trees, intermingled with an undergrowth so dense that it was only with difficulty I was enabled to force a way through it. I wished to reach the top of the mound, if possible, because it appeared to be a very suitable spot upon which to build a big flare for the purpose of attracting the attention of ships, should any such chance to heave in sight; I therefore persevered, and eventually came out at the base of the elevation, which was clear of trees. Then I started to climb, and after an hour’s arduous toil reached its summit, the sides being exceedingly steep and consisting for the most part of fine ashes, from which I suspected that I was climbing the cone of an extinct volcano. This suspicion was fully verified when I arrived at the top; for I found myself upon a narrow platform, roughly elliptical in shape and some half a dozen yards wide, from which I gazed down into the interior of a crater some two hundred feet deep, the sides of which were nearly vertical, while the bottom was apparently a shallow pool of stagnant water.
The rim would serve admirably as a site upon which to build a bonfire; but the sides were so steep and the soil so loose that I foresaw it would be difficult, almost to the point of impossibility, to climb them with a load. I therefore decided to see whether the peak near the centre of the island offered better facilities. But before descending I took a good long look round the horizon, and was not very greatly surprised to discover that there were no less than seven separate and distinct indications of land to the northward, the nearest of which I judged could not be very far away.
I walked round the rim of the crater to its northern side and made my descent there, en route for the peak near the centre of the island, having first fully satisfied myself that the sea all round was entirely bare of craft of any description. My way now lay again through timber and more or less dense scrub, beyond which I found a small patch of open grass land, and then more timber. But now, for some inscrutable reason, there was little or no scrub. The trees were more lofty and wider apart, and intermingled with what I may term the timber trees were a fair number bearing fruit, among which I found several specimens of the breadfruit, and an abundance of mangoes, guavas, custard and star apples, plantains, bananas, and a few other varieties; thus there was the assurance of an ample supply of food so long as we might be compelled to remain upon the island.
It was past noon when I reached the base of the peak; and I had no sooner come to it than I perceived, from the ashes and scoriae that thickly strewed its sides, that it also was a volcano. Yet I was determined to climb to its summit, if possible, if only for the perfect panorama of the entire island that I knew I should obtain from there; so I rested for a little while, utilising the time by making a good meal of fruit, and then addressed myself to my task.
The sides of this volcano were not nearly so steep as those of the other; the dust and ashes, however, were just as fine, rendering the task of climbing the slope extremely difficult. But I had learned wisdom by this time, and instead of attempting the ascent in a straight line from base to summit, I described a spiral round the peak, and in this way accomplished the ascent in almost as short a time as, and with far less fatigue than, if I had attempted to go up by the shortest way.
My conviction that this peak also was the vent of a volcano was verified the moment that I reached the summit, the general aspect and character of this and the other being almost identical. The rim on which I now stood was, however, quite three hundred feet higher than the first; the view from it was consequently much more extensive, and in addition to the seven indications of land seen from the top of the mound, I was now able to trace three more quite distinctly, while in the farthest distance I thought I could descry the faint loom of still more land. This, however, was not all, for far away to the northward—so far as to be no more than just visible—I caught a hint of a faint, pearly gleam on the horizon, which I felt certain could only be that of the sun on a ship’s white sails; and my heart swelled with thankfulness, for here was an unmistakable assurance that craft of some sort occasionally visited these waters.
Having at length thoroughly searched the entire circle of the horizon, I turned my gaze nearer home and proceeded to view the island, the whole of which lay spread out beneath me like a large-scale relief map.
I scarcely know how to describe it. The nearest thing to which I can compare the shape of its plan, is a Ghoorka’s khookri, or heavy knife, the point directed northward, the edge facing west, with a widening of the blade near its junction with the handle, this widening being broken into by the little harbour at the upper end of which our boat lay. The surface of the island was very irregular, and was almost completely covered with trees of various kinds, interspersed with small patches of open grass land. The island rose sheer from the sea everywhere except in one spot inside the harbour, where the grass sloped down to the water’s edge, and at another spot on the north-western shore, where, for a length of about a mile, the land sloped seaward to a strip of white beach.
The source of the rivulet which discharged into the sea appeared to be situated about three-quarters of a mile south of the spot whereon I stood; and from that point it was easy for the eye to follow its course past our cavern and down its steep, rocky course to the harbour. The whole of the ravine which it traversed lay open to my gaze, and I was now able to assure myself with full conviction that our cavern could only be approached from one direction, namely, the narrow ledge which we had traversed to reach it.
The island was to all appearance uninhabited, save by ourselves. There were no canoes on the beach to the north-west, nor any sign of smoke indicating the existence of a village; yet, if not near the harbour, that is where a village would certainly be, since it was the only place where men could possibly beach their canoes—and the idea of inhabitants of an island without canoes was unthinkable. Nevertheless, although I felt convinced that our party were the only people on the island, I determined to make my exploration complete. Accordingly, after a long, last, lingering look round me, I plunged down the northern slope of the cone, and pushed northward through the forest; arriving at the most northern extremity of the island, dead tired, about sunset.
I camped in the open that night, finding abundance of food wherewith to satisfy my hunger, but no water. This latter, however, was of trivial importance, since the fruit staved off any excessive feeling of thirst; yet it tended to confirm my conviction that there were no natives to be found in this part of the island. On the following morning I followed the western line of the cliffs until I reached the beach aforementioned, when I descended to it and most carefully examined its whole surface in search of human footprints. I found not the slightest trace of one on the entire stretch of beach; therefore, perfectly satisfied at last that we had the whole island to ourselves, I shaped a course for “home”, as I already began mentally to name the cavern, reaching it about mid-afternoon.
I found that during my absence the others had been busying themselves in a variety of ways to make our cavern comfortably habitable. Julius, for instance, had collected a quantity of stones, which he had so arranged at the mouth of the cavern that the V-shaped floor had been nicely levelled up and made smooth, so that it was now possible to pass in and out without the risk of badly spraining one’s ankles; while the women had collected enough dry fern to make comfortable beds for us all. Also, the interior of the cavern had been more carefully and systematically examined, with the result that three separate and distinct but adjoining chambers had been found, two of which would serve admirably for sleeping apartments, while a third and very lofty one had a large hole in its roof, situated apparently in the midst of a clump of trees, admitting sufficient light to make it quite pleasantly habitable as a general living and working room.
This, of course, was all very well and quite as we would have it; it was a wise and reasonable policy to make ourselves as comfortable as we could during our sojourn upon the island. But how long was that sojourn to last? That was the matter now uppermost in my thoughts. Were we to sit down and wait patiently until something should come along and take us off, or were we to take the initiative and, while availing ourselves of the hospitality of the island, contrive some means whereby, failing other help, we might effect our own rescue by making our way to some civilised spot from which it would be possible to return to our respective homes? I had been thinking a good deal of late about my poor mother in her little house at Newton Ferrers. It was now over five months since the Stella Maris had been cast away, and more than six since I had last written home; and I knew that by this time the dear soul would be fretting her heart out with anxiety on my account. I was therefore growing every day more eager and determined to find a way of deliverance, if only that the maternal anxiety might be allayed.
But what could I do? There was the boat, certainly; but after our recent dreadful experiences in her I knew that nothing would induce Mrs Vansittart to undertake another boat voyage. She had already said so with much emphasis, and the others had echoed her resolution; and, indeed, I could not blame them. A single experience of that kind was quite enough for a lifetime. Had we possessed a sail, matters might have been different, for despite the queer model of our craft she had proved to be an excellent sea boat, quite as good, indeed, as a boat of the usual shape; but to be at sea in her without a sail was to be simply at the mercy of wind and wave. I racked my brains to distraction in the effort to evolve some practicable plan for obtaining a sail, even going to the length of endeavouring to weave one of grass; but it was no good, for as soon as the grass dried it became so tender and brittle that it would never have borne the pressure of even a very moderate breeze, much less a gale.
About a month later, when after numerous experiments I had found myself obliged to abandon all hope in that direction, chance—or rather, investigation in another direction—revived my hopes, and I began to believe that I could see my way.
It was about two months from the time when we were driven out of the wreck and compelled to commit ourselves and our fortunes to the mercy of the open sea, and by this time our clothing had become so dilapidated that the necessity for something to replace it was growing urgent. Therefore, while I busied myself daily upon the task of conveying combustible material to the summit of the Peak—as we had named the highest point on the island—that we might be able to kindle a fire and raise a big smoke in the event of a sail heaving in sight, and while Julius undertook to find a daily supply of food for the party, the women explored the island in search of some material that might be converted into clothing.
By the merest accident they at length found what they believed might serve. It was the inner bark of a certain tree, and consisted of long white threads or filaments which, after being steeped in water for some time, could be separated from each other, and which proved to be so exceedingly tough that we were able to make excellent fishing lines of them, and so secure a most welcome addition to our daily diet. The threads were rather coarse, but we believed that they might be worked up into a kind of sheeting which, while perhaps rather stiff and uncomfortable when fashioned into garments, would make a very good sail; and I devoted every moment of my spare time to the gathering and preparation of the stuff, my idea being that after I had made a suit of sails for the boat, if the others still refused to undertake a second boat voyage, they might agree to my going away alone in search of help.
But about a month later, when the four women were busily and laboriously engaged upon the tedious task of weaving by hand our stock of thread into a coarse, tough cloth, a dramatic interruption of our labours occurred which, but for the mercy of God, might have had a most tragic ending.
I had by this time accumulated upon the top of the Peak a sufficient quantity of material to make a blaze and smoke that might be seen in clear weather at least thirty miles away, and I had therefore ceased to devote my whole time to adding to the pile, employing myself instead in industriously collecting the thread-like bark out of which we were making our cloth. Nevertheless it was a habit of mine to wend my way to the summit every morning immediately after breakfast, in order to take a good look round on the chance of a sail being in sight; and I repeated the excursion daily after our midday meal, collecting a load of combustibles on my way and carrying them up with me, in order that in any case my journey might not be quite useless.
It was during my afternoon journey on the day in question that, having reached the summit of the Peak and sent a long, searching, but fruitless look round the horizon, I turned to descend by a short cut which my frequent passages down had beaten in the loose, friable soil, when I was arrested in the very act of plunging down the slope, and my blood turned to ice, by the sight of a great war canoe crowded with natives, just emerging from under the cover of the western cliffs and heading southward, as though bound for our little harbour. As I still stood gaping at her, scarcely able to credit the evidence of my eyes, another, and another, and another followed, making four in all, each manned by some forty or fifty natives. They had been creeping along so close inshore that at first they had been invisible to me, hidden by the high cliffs; but a curve of the shore line had caused them to head out a little farther to the westward, and so brought them within my range of vision.
Suddenly I became aware of signs of commotion in the leading canoe. There was a cessation of paddling, arms were uplifted and flourished, and the next moment I realised with horror that my figure, standing out clear and clean-cut against the pure azure of the sky, had been detected. The natives were pointing and directing each other’s attention to me; indeed, I almost believed that I could catch, above the soft sough of the wind, the faint sound of their voices shouting to each other as they pointed. Then the gesticulating suddenly ceased, the paddles were resumed, churning the water into foam with the energy thrown into each stroke, and the canoes raced forward at fully double their original speed.
Waiting to see no more, I plunged recklessly down the slope, running, sliding, stumbling, and once rolling headlong in my frantic haste to get back to the cavern. I felt assured that, whatever their original purpose might have been, those savages would now most assuredly land, if only to hunt for me and secure my head as a trophy. It would be a race between them and me as to who could reach the cavern first; moreover, there was the horrid possibility that some of the women, or Julius, might be abroad and fall into their hands; in which case, God help them!