Chapter Thirteen.
A visit to the wreck.
This shocking discovery diverted his thoughts for a short time from his original project; but, having done all he could for the poor wretches, he was glad to turn anew to the question of the raft. To a man accustomed as he was to the quick devising of expedients it was not difficult to scheme out the plan of such a structure as would serve his purpose. Looking about him and collecting a quantity of such small pieces of wreckage as had nails in them, he formed them into a heap, to which with the aid of some dry grass and withered leaves and a lens from his telescope, he set fire and left it to consume. Then picking out three 6-inch planks of about equal length he sharpened their ends with his axe and laid them on the beach, at a distance of about three feet apart, with their sharpened ends pointing seaward. He next procured three pieces of plank long enough to just cross the first three planks at right angles; and as soon as his bonfire had burned itself out he cleared the nails from among the ashes, and with them fastened his structure together. Two short pieces of plank nailed vertically in midships, with another piece secured on top of that, formed a rough-and-ready seat; and two other pieces secured crosswise on each side to the outer edges of his raft, and at the distance of about a foot abaft the seat, gave him a fairly serviceable substitute for
rowlocks. He had already been fortunate enough to find a couple of small oars, and he now thought he might venture to essay a trip to the wreck.
Small as was his raft, it was still so heavy as to give him some trouble in the launching of it; but he at length got it fairly afloat, and seating himself in the centre, adjusted his oars and began to try its paces. He was greatly surprised to find that he could propel it through the water at a very fair speed, and without much effort; and, this fact ascertained, he at once headed straight for the wreck, which he safely reached in about half an hour.
There were plenty of ropes’-ends dangling from the ship’s side, to one of which he made fast his raft, and laying the oars carefully down in such a manner as that they would not be likely to slip overboard, he scrambled on board the wreck and reached the steeply inclined deck.
The wreck appeared to be fully as large as he had supposed; and he was agreeably surprised to find, on investigation, that she had not received nearly so much damage as he had anticipated, indeed her injuries seemed to be confined almost entirely to the loss of her masts, bulwarks, and deck-houses. The cabin had been on deck; but this was swept away. The forecastle, however, was below, and into this he descended. It was arranged in the usual manner on board merchant ships—that is to say, it had standing bunks round each side of it, in which the bedding of the unfortunate seamen still remained, precisely as when the ship struck.
The seamen’s chests were also there, showing that they had had no time to make any elaborate preparations for leaving the ship; and the impression produced upon Gaunt’s mind by what he saw was, that when the ship struck the watch below must have rushed immediately up on deck, and very soon, if not immediately afterwards, have been swept overboard.
As he was there, not to satisfy his curiosity, but to ascertain of what value the ship might prove to himself and his friends, he did not hesitate to open and examine the chests of the poor fellows; but he found nothing therein except such coarse clothing as is usually worn by merchant seamen, and a few little odds and ends of no particular value, except perhaps a sailor’s palm or two, with sail-needles; and in one or two instances a little housewife with sewing needles, thread, etcetera, neatly arranged.
One of the chests, however, proved to be a carpenter’s tool-chest; and this, although Gaunt had a small tool-chest of his own among his effects, would be of such priceless value to the little band, that he determined to secure it then and there; and he accordingly dragged it on deck at once, in readiness to transfer to his raft. The floor of the forecastle was quite dry, and this circumstance led Gaunt to hope that the hull had received no damage; but on raising the hatch leading to the fore-peak he saw that the place was nearly full of water. His exploration of the forecastle ended here; and he was about to proceed on deck when he caught sight of a fishing-line suspended on a nail inside one of the bunks. This fishing-line he at once secured and took on deck with him laying it down on top of the carpenter’s tool-chest so that it might not be forgotten when he left the wreck.
He now proceeded to the after end of the wreck. Here the cabins had been entirely swept away; and he had no means of ascertaining any particulars as to the ownership of the vessel, the nature of her cargo, or her destination—the ship’s papers and the captain’s private documents having doubtless gone overboard with the wreck of the cabin. But by looking over the ship’s counter he saw that she was named the Mermaid, and that she hailed from the port of Bristol.
That portion of the deck which formed the floor of the cabin had been covered with oilcloth; and this oilcloth still remained in place, securely nailed down to the planking. Looking about him Gaunt had no difficulty in discovering the locality of the hatch leading down to the lazarette, which, like the rest of the cabin flooring, was covered with oilcloth, on folding back which he noticed, with satisfaction, that the sea had been prevented from penetrating into the interior. Raising the hatch he descended, and found, as he expected, that the place was well packed with the usual stores supplied to such a ship when bound upon a long voyage. He opened a few of the cases at haphazard and extracted from one a bottle of port wine, and from another a tin of preserved soup; he also found several casks of ship’s bread, from one of which he filled his pockets. With this booty he returned to the deck and deposited it on the carpenter’s tool-chest. He next turned his attention to the hatches. These were all securely battened down; and he noticed with great satisfaction that the tarpaulins which covered them were quite uninjured, and to all appearance perfectly watertight. He was about to break open the main hatchway, but on further consideration he decided not to do so until he was prepared to hoist out the cargo and transfer it to the shore, as he well knew that when the tarpaulin was removed he would be unable to properly secure it in its place again without assistance.
His preliminary examination of the wreck was now completed, and the position of the sun warned him that it was high time for him to see about returning to the shore. He met with a great deal of trouble in lowering the heavy tool-chest down the ship’s side and safely depositing it on his flimsy raft; but so much value did he attach to its possession that he determined not to leave the wreck without it. And he eventually succeeded, though not until the sun was within half an hour of setting. This task successfully accomplished, and the fishing-line, bread, wine, and tin of soup placed in security on the top of the chest, he cast off and cautiously pulled away to the shore, which he safely reached just as the sun’s upper rim was disappearing below the horizon.
He was by this time desperately hungry, and the first thing to which he devoted himself was the preparation of supper. His first idea was that he would be obliged to consume the soup cold; but the prospect of such a comfortless meal was so little to his taste that he began to look about for some means of overcoming this disadvantage. What he wanted was a vessel or a receptacle of some description in which he could heat the soup and make it somewhat more palatable; and here he remembered having passed during his morning’s ramble on the beach a very large shell of the species Tridacna gigas. He bethought himself of its whereabouts whilst busily engaged in moving the tool-chest, etcetera, well up above high-water mark; and having brought the locality to mind he took the tin of soup in his hand and hastened along the beach. The shell was not very far distant, and securing it he dragged it to a convenient position and imbedded it in the soft dry sand, placing the tin of soup in it. He next collected a quantity of dry twigs and brushwood, of which there was no lack beneath the trees at a short distance from the beach. He also collected a quantity of dry leaves, and with these and the brushwood he built the constituents of a fire, which he next lit with the aid of a match, a few of which he had taken the precaution to provide himself with that morning before setting out His next task was to find a few good large pebbles, of which there was a plentiful supply lying about just where the sand and the soil proper met. Selecting about two dozen of the largest he conveyed them to his fire and carefully arranged them in its midst. He then proceeded to fill the shell—which was to serve as his cooking pot—with salt water, no fresh-water being at hand; after which he sat down and waited patiently until the stones which he had laid in the fire should be sufficiently heated for his purpose. About twenty minutes sufficed for this, when the hot stones were dropped one after the other into the shell, by which means the water was very soon brought to boiling point, and maintained at that temperature long enough to thoroughly warm the soup, the tin of which he had, after some difficulty, succeeded in opening with his axe. He then hurried back to where he had left the wine and the bread, both of which he conveyed to his extemporised kitchen, and there, with the aid of a small shell carefully washed, made shift to consume the soup, washing it and the bread down with a moderate draught of wine. This done, he kneeled down on the sand and, commending himself and his dear ones to the care of his Maker, stretched himself out by the side of the fire, and was soon wrapped in a dreamless sleep which lasted until morning.
He was awakened by a sound so homely and familiar to his ears, that when he first started up he almost believed that the experiences of the past few months could have been nothing more than an unusually vivid and circumstantial dream, and that he should find himself a tenant of some pleasant English farm-house. The sound—which was the crowing of a cock—was repeated, and answered from the woods at a distance of perhaps half a mile, and again answered by another shrill crowing nearer at hand, but in a different direction. He was astounded. What could be the meaning of the presence of domestic fowls on this lonely island? He started to his feet and set off, determined to investigate. The crowing was repeated often enough to serve him as an effective guide in his search, and proceeding cautiously he at length found himself quite close to the spot from whence the sounds apparently proceeded. Still advancing cautiously he presently heard not only the crowing of a cock but the loud triumphant clucking with which a hen proclaims to an admiring world the fact that she has laid an egg. A little further away he heard, in addition to these sounds, the softer cluck with which a parent hen calls to her chickens; and presently, peering out from behind the bole of an enormous teak-tree, he saw not only chanticleer but also his harem, consisting of half a dozen hens, two of which had broods of fluffy-looking chickens running at their heels. This was a most delightful surprise to Gaunt; for though the island seemed to promise that he and his party would never be likely to want for the means of sustaining life, here was a supply of food which, carefully looked after, would be the means of affording them many a dainty dish. The fresh morning air had again sharpened the solitary man’s appetite, which now admonished him that it was high time to think seriously about breakfast, and the loud continued clucking of the hen which had laid an egg reminded him that fresh eggs were very good for breakfast. His first intention was to confiscate that egg; but a moment’s reflection showed him that if left alone it might eventually become a chicken, and thus considerably increase in value. He therefore decided to forego the gratification of fresh eggs for breakfast, and to turn his thoughts in some other direction.
It occurred to him that fresh eggs being, in the existing state of the market, too expensive a luxury for breakfast, fresh fish might serve as a very satisfactory substitute; he therefore made his way to the beach, and taking his fishing-line, launched the raft and went off as far as the inner edge of the reef, wondering meanwhile how the presence of those domestic fowls could be accounted for upon the island. If the Mermaid had not obviously been wrecked too recently to admit of the existence of so nourishing a brood, he would have thought that they must have formed part of the live stock of that vessel, and that when she struck and her decks were swept, the coops had been smashed and the fowls had succeeded in effecting their escape to the shore. This, however, was impossible on the face of it, and he knew not how otherwise to account for it, unless they had been landed and left by some passing ship, which seemed even more improbable.
He was not long in reaching the inner edge of the reef, where he laid in his oars, baited his hook with one of a few shell-fish with which he had provided himself for the purpose, and dropped the line into the water, where it had not been above half a minute when he felt a tremendous tug. Pulling up the line quickly, he found that he had captured a magnificent nine-pounder in splendid condition, the fish being very like a salmon in shape, make, and colour, excepting that it had a longer, sharper head, and a finer tail. Securing his prize, he at once put about and made for the shore, as he was anxious to reach the camp on the other side of the island that evening.
Having caught his fish, the next question was how it could be cooked. He had been revolving this matter in his mind on his return journey from the reef, and remembered having somewhere read of a process which he thought would suit his present condition. He remembered having noticed an outcrop of clay not far from where he had camped on the previous evening, and making his way to the spot, he secured a sufficient quantity to serve his purpose. The next thing he required was a quantity of leaves, and he plunged into the woods to search for some which might be suitable. He found plenty, but they were all of a class unknown to him, and as they would come into intimate contact with his food in the process of cooking, he hesitated about making use of them; so pushing on a little further, he was fortunate enough to discover an orange-tree laden with both blossoms and fruit in every stage, from the little hard green ball the size of a marble, up to the perfect fruit just changing from dark olive green to a golden yellow. The leaves of this tree would suit his purpose admirably; so gathering as many as he required, as well as three or four of the finest specimens of the ripened fruit, he returned to the beach. Here he at once proceeded to mould a portion of the clay into a rough semblance of a long narrow dish of dimensions suitable for the reception of the fish. This clay dish he thickly lined with orange leaves, upon which he laid his fish entire as it had come out of the water, covering it with another thick layer of orange leaves, and then with a thick coating of clay, so that the completed structure resembled a roughly moulded clay pie with the fish wrapped in orange leaves in its centre. He now proceeded to light a fire, and when the brushwood of which it was composed had been reduced to a mass of glowing red-hot embers, his clay pie was carefully deposited in the centre; fresh brushwood was heaped thickly on the top, and he then sat down to await results. In about half an hour the clay showed signs of cracking, which told him that his culinary operations were complete; so dragging the mass out from among the embers, he proceeded to carefully break away the top layer of clay, and there lay his fish cooked to perfection, a dish fit for a king. Upon this fish, and a portion of the bread which he had procured from the wreck on the previous evening, he breakfasted royally; washing down the whole with a moderate libation of wine, and topping off with a couple of oranges, after which he was ready to start on his homeward journey. Before going, however, he hauled up his raft as high as he could get it on the beach, placed the two oars in safety beside the carpenter’s tool-chest, and roughly thatched over the latter with palm-leaves to protect it from the weather.
The long pull of a mile up the steep slope leading to the base of the cliff tested his unaccustomed energies very severely, and the toilsome scramble up through the precipitous incline of the gap taxed them still more; so that when he at length reached the top of the cliff, he was glad enough to fling himself down in the long grass and allow himself half an hour’s rest and the refreshment of a pipe. At the end of that time he once more set forward, shaping his course so as to pass to the southward of the mountain, and from thence down the steep ravine to the edge of the river, the left bank of which he determined on this occasion to follow. As he pursued his journey he could not help being struck, and very agreeably impressed, with the wonderful fertility of the island, and the great variety of its products. The trees were many of them of immense size, and though there were many species, the names and natures of which he knew nothing about, he was able to identify on the upper slopes of the mountain the pine, the fir, and what looked very much like a species of ash; whilst on the table-land and on the slopes of the ravine the teak, mahogany, and jarrah, as well as the cocoanut and two or three other varieties of palm flourished in abundance, to say nothing of the bamboo, several groves of which he passed through during the course of the day. Of fruits also there was a great variety, among others the pine-apple, banana, plantain, pawpaw, granadilla, guava, orange, loquat, durian, and the cocoanut. Several species of cane also flourished luxuriantly, and among them he found what he believed, from its general appearance and its taste, to be a wild sugar-cane. But what perhaps gratified him more than all was to meet here and there with little patches of maize.
Of animal life also there was no lack. Of snakes there were more and in greater variety than he at all cared to see, and in addition to these the forest was alive with monkeys of several varieties, to say nothing of other animals whose quick movements would not permit him to identify them. Insects, as might be expected, swarmed in countless millions, some of them being most grotesque in form and colour. Butterflies of unusual size flitted about from flower to flower, and the upper branches of the trees were fairly alive with birds of the most brilliant plumage, among which he noticed two or three varieties of the parrot tribe, whilst birds of paradise were there in such numbers that he thought he might not inappropriately name his new domain “Paradise Island.” Where the ground was sufficiently open to permit of their growth, flowering shrubs and plants with blossoms and blooms of the loveliest colours, and some of them of the most delicate perfumes, abounded; and among the shrubs there were several which he believed to be spice-bearing plants. After a fatiguing but nevertheless very enjoyable tramp, he arrived, at about two o’clock in the afternoon, at the margin of the lake, and at once took measures for swimming across to the islet in its centre. Collecting a large bundle of rushes, he stripped, and placing his clothes and his other belongings upon the flimsy raft thus formed, and stepping into the cool refreshing water, struck quickly out into the centre of the lake, pushing his raft before him.
As he approached the islet he noted with great satisfaction that, so far as he could then see, the place was admirably adapted for the head-quarters of the little party so long as it might be necessary for them to remain in their island prison. There were trees in abundance on the islet, and of many varieties, but they did not grow so thickly together as they did on what we may call the mainland, large spaces of open prairie being discernable here and there, which Gaunt already mentally devoted to the process of cultivation. Swimming quietly he reached the islet with very little fatigue, and, dressing himself, at once set about looking for the wherewithal for a dinner. He had not far to go, for he had scarcely plunged into the first grove of trees when a large bird took wing from among the branches, and, raising his rifle, he succeeded in bringing it to the ground. It proved to be a brush-turkey, which he forthwith proceeded to pluck and prepare for the spit; lighting a fire meanwhile, so that it might burn well up and be in a fit state for cooking when wanted. The turkey was cooked—after a fashion—and if it was not as well done as the engineer could have wished, it was still sufficiently so to satisfy his hunger, after which he set out to explore the islet.
It was of no very great size, being about ten acres in extent, or thereabouts, but its surface was finely broken up into miniature hills and dales in such a way as to not only make the spot appear larger than it really was, but also to present a very pleasing variety of aspect to the eye. He found here a spring of fresh, clear, cool water, which was a source of great satisfaction to him, as the water of the lake, being in direct communication with the sea, was somewhat brackish, too much so at all events to render it a desirable liquid for drinking and culinary purposes; and the presence of this spring would avert all necessity for a search on the mainland and a possible difficulty of securing a sufficient supply without much labour.
Having an eye to the presence of the children upon this islet, Gaunt was peculiarly inquisitive in the matter of reptiles, and it was a great relief to his mind to discover that if any such were on the islet they were so scarce that during his entire search round and through it he did not encounter a single snake. So far as he could see there were no animals to be found upon it, though birds were, of course, in as great variety and numbers as they were on the mainland of the large island.
He was fortunate enough to find, not very far from the spot on which he had landed, a shelving piece of beach running down into deep water, which would serve him admirably as a site on which to build his proposed boat, and near it—distant, in fact, not more than two hundred yards—there was a small grove of palms and other trees which would serve admirably as a shelter from the sun for his proposed house.
His survey of the islet completed, he again entered the water, and, with his raft of rushes ahead of him as before, quietly paddled across to the shore on the right back of the stream, which he now proposed to follow down to its junction with the sea. A walk of about six miles brought him to the mouth of the little estuary, which he found perfectly concealed from the sea, in consequence of the river taking a sudden bend and then doubling again almost upon itself between two low bluffs which rose steeply out of the sea.
At this point there was no beach whatever, the shore being rocky and precipitous; but somewhat further on the slopes of the land became gentle, and a sandy beach was met with which, after a walk of some seven or eight miles, brought him out at the spot on which he had originally been landed from the ship, and within full sight of the encampment where dwelt the rest of the party.