CHAPTER XVII
Wednesday, February 6.—Yesterday when we came back from bathing we heard that the men were going off in about an hour's time to Sandy Point to gather apples from their orchards, so we decided to take a holiday and go too. It was rather a scramble to get ready, and before we had even sat down to breakfast some of the men were going to the boats. We were in the midst of baking, and I had to run up to Miss Cotton to ask her if she would kindly finish it. It had been decreed Rob was not to come, but seeing us depart was too much for him and he swam after the boat and was hauled in. The men had to row the whole way, a distance of about ten miles. The scenery was fine, the high mountain sides descending precipitously to the shore. On the way Tom Rogers and Sam Swain were put ashore, as they wanted to drive a cow from where the former had left it some months ago. It was rather an undertaking, for the animal was as wild as the road was rough. Sometimes she had to be driven over big boulders, and sometimes through the sea. When she got on to a sandy stretch of beach she went so fast the men could hardly keep up with her. They had to throw a lasso over her horns the last part of the way to prevent her swimming out to sea. But in spite of their difficulties they arrived almost as soon as we did. It was not very easy landing, and we had to be carried from the boats to the shore. The orchards were on the mountain side in a sheltered place. It was quite a climb to get to them and once or twice we had to have help, which Tom Rogers, who when he saw us mounting had run after us, was only too pleased to give. We passed a very fine vine; the grapes were not yet ripe, probably the rats will have most of them. The grass was long and rather wet. Soon the sun came out and it became very hot. For a time we helped Tom to gather his apples, but it was tiring work, so Ellen and I found a sheltered nook and rested. Afterwards Graham and I went and sat near the edge of the cliff. Here a pair of mollyhawks came and perched within a few feet of us, and our presence did not seem at all to disturb them. They are exceedingly handsome birds, are for the most part white, and have a black bill with a bright yellow stripe down the centre of it. They have most graceful movements; and this pair bowed and clicked their beaks together and made love to each other in the most charming way. Before long it was time to descend. Tom again showed us the way, and then went back for his bags of apples, which he let down the cliff by a rope. The other men too were getting theirs down, some carrying them on their backs. There was such a collection of sacks by the time they were all down. The apples are not a large kind, and are gathered before they are ripe. But it is a great boon to the people to have them, and the children munch them all day long, eating little else. Tea was brewed on the beach, but as only a small saucepan had been brought there was not a very plentiful supply. Coming back there was only a little wind, and we travelled but slowly. We were very glad to land, for we were feeling rather sinking for want of food. To-day being the birthday of Mrs. Hagan's one-year-old son she sent us for supper a cooked fowl which was most acceptable. Our three little helpers, Mary and Susan Repetto and Sophy Rogers, came up with us from the shore and offered to carry our wraps, and when we got in set to and washed up the breakfast things. They love to help, and come in two and three times a day now.
Saturday, February 9.—It is difficult to keep count of dates here, the weeks pass so quickly. It is a wet afternoon. I have been chopping up suet, Graham repairing boots.
The day before yesterday the men with one or two women and some children went by boat to the rookery to fetch home three heifers. With some difficulty they managed to catch them, tied their legs together, and brought them home in the boats. They also brought back more apples and a good deal of driftwood.
Yesterday some of the men went out in a boat to shoot albatrosses, and shot seven. These birds are so large that it is as much as a woman can do to bring up one from the shore slung on her back. Once they nested on the island, but now nests are not to be found nearer than Inaccessible.
I have been making fresh efforts to teach Edith Swain her letters. She has been months at the first four and does not know them yet, but has picked up one or two others. I have tried a new way of teaching with better result. I have taught her, for example, "s" quite easily by telling her it is like the noise the goose makes; it is called the goose letter by the children. In this way we joke over the letters, and it seems to implant them in her mind. She has now learnt them nearly all.
Monday, February 11.—During Lent we are to have daily service at nine o'clock, and on Fridays one also at five o'clock with instruction on the Holy Communion.
Friday, February 15.—The daily services so far are being very well attended, a few men being generally present. We always have well-known hymns, and the service lasts just under the half-hour.
I find the fowls a great interest. But they often lay away in the tussock where it is almost a hopeless task to find the eggs. If I see a hen looking about for a nest whenever I can I catch it and shut it up, and usually with a successful result.
The other day Ben the cripple had been missing for several hours. It was feared he had gone off up the mountain by himself and been taken with a fit. Although it was pouring with rain the men went off in search of him to Red Hole which lies westward, but not finding him there retraced their steps and went in the opposite direction as far as Pig's Bite, but seeing no traces of his footsteps on the sand they turned back, when they were encountered by Ben himself, who had run after them to let them know he was all right. It seems he had gone to the potato hut and had fallen asleep there, and that his sister not knowing he was there had fastened him in. The first intimation of his whereabouts was conveyed by cries of "Becky, Becky, let me out."
Our things still remain packed, but we hardly think now we shall get off to the Cape. We have enough tea to last us this year, and enough coffee, sugar, biscuits, rice and jam for some time yet, as well as oil and soap. We got a good deal of rice from one of the ships, but bread we had virtually to do without.
The Repettos' youngest child is such a little pet, and so well trained. I brought him in yesterday when we were having afternoon tea. He solemnly clambered on to the sofa and sat there till I offered him a spoonful of tea and a biscuit, which he descended to receive, and then went back to his place. He came out into the garden afterwards and sat by my side without moving while I made a weak attempt at sketching the house. He is fair, has auburn curls, and is the darling of his mother's heart.
Monday, February l8.—This morning we had such a delightful bathe. The sea was rough and broke into our little cove, which was quite deep at one end. There was such a lovely sunrise, the sky and sea lit up by it. We often go down to bathe while it is still dusk. Rob was so amusing; he would not come near the water, but sat on the rock as if on guard; he is generally here, there, and everywhere.
Sunday, February 24.—John Glass's son and heir was baptized today and was named William Gordon. The first name was after Corporal Glass, his greatgrandfather. We sang the beautiful baptismal hymn—-
"O Father, Thou who hast created all
In wisest love, we pray,
Look on this babe, who at Thy gracious call
Is entering on life's way;
Bend o'er him in Thy tenderness,
Thine image on his soul impress;
O Father, hear!"
I did not know either the hymn or the tune by Sullivan until I came here.
Monday, February 25.—I have been picking tomatoes. We have to pick them green, as they are beginning to rot, due, I think, to this wet climate. I have hung some in strings on the front of the house, the rest lie on the sitting-room window-sills.
A week or two ago a small portion of the hayfield was cut. There being no such thing as a scythe here, it was cut with a short hook made out of ship iron, and called a "tussock-hook." The hay, which is deliciously sweet, was gathered in successfully. But I do not think Henry intends to cut any more of the field. They have got into such set ways here that it goes against the grain to try anything new. This hay was put into a hut and never used for feeding the cattle but for bedding for the pigs. While I have been writing I have heard such happy peals of laughter from the children who have been helping Ellen.
Tuesday, February 26.—As we were out for a walk this afternoon we saw cart after cart coming home from the potato patches. They were loaded with sacks of potatoes, and generally had a woman and one or two children seated on the top of the sacks. The men do the digging and the women and children the picking up. The potatoes are turning out well on the whole. It is no joy to ride in the wagons along the rough track, which can hardly be described as a road. The carts have solid wooden wheels and no springs.
Saturday, March 2.—A cry of "Sail, ho!" What a joy! Every one is running hither and thither.