Chapter Eighteen.
About Tewa.
A Dull Chapter, but Necessary—Wakatta and Atollo—A Gentle Hint—Max as an Architect.
“In the forest hollow roaring,
Hark! I hear a deepening sound,
Clouds rise thick with heavy lowering,
See! the horizon blackens round.”
It must not be inferred from the occasional bursts of holiday humour in which we indulged, that we had become reconciled to our exile, and were now ready to subside into a state of indolent contentment satisfied with security from present danger, and the abundant means of subsistence which we had discovered.
Not even a tropical paradise, with its warm, glowing sky and balmy atmosphere, its “ambrosial fruits and amaranthine flowers,” could charm us into oblivion of home, and those who made it dear; or diminish the bitterness of the thought of being cut off for ever from human intercourse, and of having all our plans of life deranged and frustrated. Though we did not brood continually over our unfortunate situation, we were far from being insensible to it. The loveliest island that ever reposed in undiscovered beauty, upon the bosom of the “blue summer ocean,” though rich in all things necessary to supply every material want, must still have seemed to us but as a gilded and luxurious prison, from which we should never cease to sigh for an escape.
Arthur’s conclusion, mentioned at the end of the last chapter, seemed in itself so probable, and was confirmed by so many circumstances, that it was readily adopted by us all; and believing that the party, of whose presence at one time upon the island the hat was an evidence, had left it years ago, the occurrence no longer appeared to possess any importance, and we dismissed it altogether from our thoughts.
Eiulo, when questioned on the subject of the white men living among his own people, repeated substantially his former statement, that they came from an island lying south of his father’s, and distant from it less than a day’s sail. It seemed, also, that before the arrival of the whites, an island lying in the direction from which they had come, had been known to some, at least, of the natives, and visited by them. In the course of the conversations which he had with Arthur, at various times, about his father’s people and their affairs, Eiulo had often spoken of an old warrior, Wakatta by name, famous for his courage and great personal strength, of which he related many remarkable instances. Through two generations he had been the most devoted and valued friend of the family of his chief; and upon his wisdom, sagacity, and prowess, Eiulo’s father and grandfather had relied in many an emergency, and seldom in vain. Formerly, the three islands were independent of each other, and were ruled by separate chiefs, who sometimes engaged in sanguinary wars among themselves, in most of which Wakatta had played a prominent part.
A great many moons ago, as Eiulo expressed it, the chiefs of the two smaller islands had united their forces against his grandfather, who was then chief of Tewa, the third and largest. To this enterprise they had been incited by Atollo, an uncle of Eiulo, and younger brother of the present chief, his father. This man was possessed of great ability, and his reputation as a warrior was second only to that of Wakatta, who was many years his senior, so that among those of his own age he was considered without an equal. But, though eminent for talent and courage, he seemed to be entirely destitute of principle or feeling; and impelled, as was supposed, by a spirit of unscrupulous ambition, (for no other motive could be assigned), this unnatural son plotted against the lives of his own father and elder brother. His designs being discovered, and fully exposed, he fled to one of the neighbouring islands, and sought the protection of its chief, his father’s most formidable and inveterate enemy. Afterwards, by his address and energy, he succeeded in bringing about a league between the chiefs of the two smaller islands, for the purpose of an attack against Tewa, by their combined forces. The enterprise was planned with the greatest secrecy, and executed with equal skill and daring. At midnight, the allies set sail, in a fleet of war canoes, and two hours before dawn they had disembarked at Tewa, marched to the principal village, where the chief resided, and made all their dispositions for the attack, which was so totally unexpected, that it was crowned with complete success. Scarcely any resistance was made: the principal Tewan warriors were slain in their beds, or taken prisoners; and Eiulo’s father and grandfather, with Wakatta, only saved their lives by fleeing to the mountains. Knowing that the strictest search would be made for them, and that if taken, instant death would be their doom; they stole forth from their lurking-place by night, repaired to the beach, and taking a large canoe, which they discovered there, set sail in her, steering boldly southward, in search of a considerable island which was believed to lie in that direction. Soon after sunrise they came in sight of land, but, on approaching it, they found that the surf was bursting with great fury upon a barrier reef, stretching between them and the shore; and it was not until they had coasted along it for many hours, that they succeeded in effecting a landing. Eiulo had heard both his father and Wakatta speak of the island as a singularly beautiful spot, nearly as large as Tewa, and abounding in bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees. Here the fugitives remained for several months, until, becoming wearied of their solitary life, and possessed by an irresistible longing to revisit their homes, they came to the determination to venture back, and learn the state of things there, at every hazard. They accordingly set sail one day at noon, in order that they might reach their destination under cover of night, in which they succeeded.
Seeking a temporary place of concealment in the woods, they seized favourable opportunities to discover themselves to some friends on whom they could rely. They learned that the victorious allies had been guilty of the most intolerable cruelty towards the people of Tewa. Many of the prisoners had been slain, as sacrifices to the gods, and many more had been made slaves. Atollo had established himself as chief at the conquered island, and had gathered about him a band of the most ferocious and desperate men, who practised every species of cruelty and oppression upon the inhabitants. The latter, driven to the utmost verge of endurance, were now ready to incur any risk in an attempt to deliver themselves from a yoke so galling. They needed only a leader, and the experience and prowess of Wakatta, together with the presence of their ancient and rightful chief and his son, inspired them with confidence and courage. Gathering a small, but resolute, band of warriors, they awaited the favourable moment to strike a decisive blow; and then, emulating the secrecy and suddenness of Atollo’s recent enterprise, they sallied forth at night, from their rendezvous in the forest and fell upon him and his adherents. Wakatta was unable to restrain the ferocity of his followers, excited by the insults and injuries they had suffered, and they killed on the spot all who fell into their hands, pausing to make no prisoners. Atollo, after fighting like a tiger, though almost alone, succeeded in making his escape with a few of his attendants. The victors promptly carried the war into the neighbouring islands, both of which were completely subdued, and afterwards remained under the sway of Eiulo’s grandfather until his death, when the present chief succeeded. Atollo, after resisting as long as there remained the slightest prospect of success, had sought refuge among the recesses of the mountains, where he still lurked with a few outlaw followers, as desperate as himself. His father had forbidden any search for him, or any efforts for his capture to be made; and such was the dread inspired by his desperate courage, ferocity, and cunning, and such the superstitious terror with which he was generally regarded, that few felt any inclination to transgress this command, or to meddle in any way with him or his followers; and he was consequently left unmolested in his favourite haunts, among the wild and almost inaccessible precipices of the interior. In seasons of scarcity, his father had even caused supplies of food to be placed where they would be likely to fall in his way. Eiulo always shuddered when he spoke of this man. Once, when accompanied by a young playmate and an attendant, he had strayed a long way into the wood in search of wild-flowers, and had, without being aware of it, approached the region frequented by the outlaws, a spear had suddenly been hurled at him from an adjacent thicket, with so deadly a purpose, that it whistled past within a few inches of his side. As they fled in alarm, and were clambering hastily down a steep descent, a mass of rock was disengaged from the verge of an overhanging precipice, and came near crushing them all. Looking back, in their flight, they saw a wild figure, which the attendant recognised at once as that of Eiulo’s uncle, stooping at the edge of the cliff, in the act of loosening another large stone. Notwithstanding this murderous attempt, the present chief of Tewa continued to pursue the same forbearing course which his father had adopted, and Atollo was still permitted to remain unmolested among his mountain fastnesses.
Eiulo, even before the discovery of the hat, had believed that we were upon the same island which his father had visited, as above related, and from which the whites had afterwards come. He was confident that by sailing northward, with a fair wind, we should reach Tewa in less than a day. Though generally cheerful, and overflowing with boyish spirits, there were times when it was apparent that he pined for his home; and, though he never directly urged it, he earnestly wished to have us make the attempt to reach his father’s island in the yawl.
At length I began to suspect, from the constant and minute inquiries which Arthur made in relation to Tewa, and its people, their usages, habits, etcetera, that he was thinking seriously of some such attempt. He directed his inquiries particularly to the point whether the island was ever visited by ships. Eiulo remembered hearing his father speak of big canoes, without any outriggers, and whose masts were as high as a cocoa-nut-tree, having passed in sight of the island. He had heard, too, that a long while ago, one of these great vessels had got aground, upon a reef between Tewa and the adjacent island, and that the natives had gone off to her in their canoes, and some of them had ventured on board at the invitation of the strangers. Old Wakatta was one of these, and he had received a wonderful present from the white chief, which he had often exhibited to Eiulo, and which, from his description of it, appeared to be neither more nor less than a small looking-glass. The great canoe had, by throwing overboard a part of her cargo, got off from the reef at the rising of the tide, and resumed her voyage. It was pretty evident that the arrival of a European vessel at the islands, was an event of very rare occurrence, and in all probability the result of mere accident. Except that he steadily pursued inquiries of this kind, Arthur said nothing to show that he entertained the thought of such an undertaking as I suspected him to be revolving. Browne and Morton both had exaggerated notions of the cruelty and treachery of the “heathen native;” as the former called them, and would, I had no doubt, be strongly averse to any step calculated to place us in their power, unless it should also, in some way, increase our prospects of ultimately getting home.
For several days after the occurrences narrated in the last chapter, we remained at Castle-hill, making little excursions daily in various directions. Having now discovered a supply of fresh water, and abundant means of subsistence, it seemed as though there was at present nothing further for us to do, except to assist Arthur, as far as we could; in his preparations for manufacturing tappa. The weather was so genial, (except during the middle of the day, when the heat was frequently intolerable), that we felt no want of any other shelter than such as the grove afforded us. Generally, towards evening, a refreshing breeze set in from the sea, and lasted several hours. We experienced no bad effects from sleeping in the open air, and far from finding it a hardship, we soon came to consider it every way more pleasant, than to be cribbed and cabined within four close walls. There was something delightful, in dropping off into dreamland, listening to the whispering of the leaves above you, and catching glimpses through them, of a sky so deliciously blue, and stars so wonderfully bright. It seemed as though in this favoured spot, the fable of a perpetual summer was to be realised, and the whole circle of the year was to be crowned with the same freshness and verdure and beauty, the same profusion of fruits and flowers, which we had thus far enjoyed. But such expectations, if any of us were beguiled into entertaining them, were destined to be rudely dissipated. One hot afternoon, we were startled from a drowsy siesta in the grove, by a peal of thunder, such as is rarely heard in temperate climates, and on springing up and looking about us, we beheld above and around us, certain indications, which it would have been far more interesting and agreeable to contemplate from beneath the shelter of a snug and comfortable dwelling. The wind moaned through the bending tree-tops; the face of the heavens was black as night, and the waters of the lagoon, and of the ocean, had darkened to a steely blue beneath their frown. Before we had fairly shaken off our drowsiness, another abrupt peal of thunder burst overhead, with a suddenness that seemed to jar the very clouds and shake the water out of them, for the rain began all at once to come down violently, in big drops, that rattled like hailstones upon the crisp leaves of the forest. The thunder appeared to have completed its office in giving the signal for the clouds to discharge their contents, and we heard it no more. For a time, the dense foliage of the large tree under which we gathered, completely sheltered us; but soon the moisture began to drip slowly from the lower leaves, and occasionally fell in sudden showers, as the branches were shaken by the wind.
At length, the ground became thoroughly saturated, shallow puddles formed in every little hollow or depression, and there was the prospect of a most miserable night if the storm should continue. Happily, this did not prove to be the case; in about an hour after we had been aroused by the first thunder peal, the clouds dispersed almost as suddenly as they had gathered; the sun shone forth brightly; the trees and the grass sparkled with raindrops, lustrous as diamonds, and the whole landscape smiled in fresher beauty than ever.
This little occurrence, however, served as a seasonable hint to recall to our minds the importance of contriving some kind of a dwelling to afford us shelter in bad weather, and we resolved to lose no time in setting about it. Accordingly, the day following that of the thunder shower, as soon as we had returned from the beach, after taking our regular morning swim, Arthur called a council, to deliberate and determine upon the matter of house-building. The first thing was to fix upon a site; the only objection to the level space at the top of the hill, was its elevated position, exposing it to the full force of the violent winds which prevail at certain periods of the tropical year. But on that side from which the strongest winds blow, the spot was protected by still higher land towards the interior, and the fine trees of various kinds and sizes, (some of them evidently the growth of many years), among which could be seen no prostrate trunks, showed, as we thought, that nothing was to be feared from that source.
We, therefore, selected a smooth, open space, near the edge of the terrace, commanding a view of the sea, through a vista of noble trees. Max insisted, that, inasmuch as with our limited architectural resources we could not make our house of more than one storey, we ought to build in “cottage style,” and make up for deficiency in height, by spreading over a large surface. He then proceeded to mark out a ground-plan, upon a scale that would have been shockingly extravagant, had we been in a part of the world where the price of building-lots was to be taken into consideration. A parallelogram, nearly forty feet long by twenty-five in width, the narrower side fronting the sea, was the plan of the main building. This was to be flanked by two wings, each some sixteen feet square, which would serve to strengthen and support the principal structure. “Upon this model,” Max complacently observed, “he intended one of these days to build his country-seat, near Mount Merino, on the Hudson: meantime, we were welcome to the benefit of the idea.”
“Really, we’re greatly obliged to you, Max,” said Browne, “for helping us so generously through with the most difficult part of the business. All that we now want in order to finish it at once, is merely a few loads of joist, plank, pine-boards, shingles, and window-sash; a supply of nails, a set of carpenter’s tools, and a couple of carpenters to use them.”
“Of course,” rejoined Max, “we shall want a supply of building materials, tools, etcetera, and I am expecting them along daily. We have now been here several weeks, and it is quite time, in the natural and regular course of things, and according to the uniform experience of people situated as we are, for a ship heavily laden, (say in our case), with lumber and hardware, to be driven upon our shores in the midst of a terrible storm, (yesterday when it began to thunder I thought it was at hand). The ship will come driving upon the reef—the crew will take to the boats, but no boat can live in such a sea, and notwithstanding our humane and daring efforts to assist them, all perish among the breakers—that is to say, all except the carpenter—whom I rescue, by plunging into the raging flood and dragging him ashore by the hair, just as he is about sinking for the third time.”
“Nobly done!” said Browne, “but couldn’t you at the same time manage to save a drowning washerwoman? she would be as great an acquisition as the carpenter, in my mind.”
“At length,” resumed Max, “the storm abates—the sea becomes smooth—we go out in the yawl to the stranded vessel, where she lies upon a coral patch, and bring off, in two boat loads, the carpenter’s chest, a keg of gunpowder, a blunderbuss, seven muskets, fourteen pairs of pistols, and a bag of doubloons, (think of that, Johnny!) That very night the wind rises again: the surf breaks the wreck to pieces, and washes the fragments ashore, and in the morning the sea is strewn far and wide with floating spars, and bales, and barrels; and the reef is covered for miles with ‘joist, plank, pine-boards, shingles, window-sash,’ and whatever other trifling conveniences are requisite for building my cottage. This is what Johnny and I confidently calculate upon.”
“In the meantime,” said Arthur, “in case by any unfortunate accident your ship should fail to arrive in time to enable us to get the cottage up before the rains set in, I propose that we commence a less ambitious structure.” He began to trace upon the ground with a pointed stick, the oval outline of what he called a ‘Tihitian faré.’ “But even for my faré,” he added, “we shall need the means of cutting down a number of good-sized trees.”
“Of which we are entirely destitute,” said Max, with an air of triumph, “and I don’t see but that we shall have to wait for my ship after all.”
“Not so,” answered Arthur, “for I think that two or three of the cutlasses may be converted into tolerable saws, with which, by dint of a little patience, we can get out as many posts and rafters as will be requisite for the frame of our building, though I admit it will be tedious work.”
Johnny heaved a profound sigh at the prospect of the difficulties that lay in the way of his pet project of house-building, and wished that “that old magician who built the castle with a thousand windows for Aladdin, in a single night, would only be clever enough to lend us his assistance.” But upon second thought, he concluded that there would be “no fun” in having our house ready-made for us, and magnanimously declared that if he had the wonderful lamp in his hands that minute, with full power to summon up the obedient genius, and set him to work, he would not do it.
“I hope you would make him supply us with a few good axes, Johnny, at least,” said Browne.
But Johnny was disposed to be very self-denying and high-minded; he did not think he ought to do it; we should take a great deal more pleasure in our house if we made it ourselves, without any magical assistance of any kind.
“Now, that you mention axes,” said Morton, “it occurs to me that there is an old hatchet-head among the rubbish in the locker of the yawl, and though it is a good deal battered and worn, it could be fitted with a handle and made useful.”
We all now remembered having seen it, though no one had before thought of it. Arthur suggested that we should make an excursion to Palm-Islet as soon as the heat of the day was over, and the sea-breeze had set in, for the purpose of getting the hatchet, and bringing the boat round to the side of the island where we intended to fix our residence, as we might have occasion for its use. “We can get there before dark,” said he, “and pass the night once more at our old quarters on the little island; then we can row back in the fresh of the morning, before sunrise, and be ready to commence our building in earnest.”