"Look in the water, brother," said Frank, whose eyes were yet watery from the severe trial he had given them. "You can't look at the sun without crying."
For a time, of course, no work was done; all were engaged in watching the phenomenon. It was the great annular eclipse of February 12th, 1831, in which the sun appeared at many places like a narrow ring of light around the dark body of the moon. To our young people there was no ring. They were too far south. The sun appeared like the moon when two days old, and the sky and earth were very gloomy.
The other incident was in itself trivial, and would not be introduced here but that the fact it illustrates is sometimes of real importance. It was simply the healing of a wound by what is called "first intention." Mary was engaged in some of her culinary duties, when, by an unfortunate slip of her hand, the knife which she was using missed its place, and sliced her finger. The piece was not cut off, but there was a large gash, and it bled profusely. Her first act was to wash the wound well in tepid water until the blood ceased to flow; then seeing that all the clots were removed, she brought the lips of the wound together, and kept them so by a bandage and a little case, like the finger of a glove made fast to the wrist by a piece of tape. The wound soon underwent a process similar to that of trees in grafting, only far more rapid. By the next morning the lips began to adhere, and in the course of three days the wound was healed--so rapidly will the flesh of a healthy person recover from a cut if the conditions necessary to "first intention" are observed, viz., that the parts be brought quickly together, and kept without disturbance.
The next week was spent in fitting up the sails and rigging, and preparing the boats, so that in case of rough weather they could be firmly lashed together.
Their work was now done. They had been labouring steadily for a month and a half, and were ready by Friday evening to pack up and start for home. But they resolved to wait and sanctify the Sabbath. They needed rest: they were jaded in every limb and muscle. Moreover, the next day was Frank's birthday. Taking everything into consideration, they preferred to spend that day in rest and rejoicing, partly in honour of Frank, but more especially as a sort of thanksgiving for their successful work. And as the voyage home promised to be long, and perhaps perilous, they also determined that they would devote Monday to trying their boats at sea, by an outward voyage round the island.
After Frank had retired, the rest agreed upon the plans by which to make the following day pleasant and profitable to him.
"I," said Mary, "will make him a birth-day cake."
"And I," said Robert, "will teach him how to shoot a bird."
"And I," said Harold, "will teach him how to swim."
"And I," said Sam, "will sing him a corn song."