For of all three of these, although they themselves were in so wonderful a measure free from them, they had experience from without. As, for instance, when one day after a long spell of perfect peace, not a sail being sighted nor any whaling done, the lookout man on the cliff reported something in the offing, either a dead whale, a boat, or a piece of wreckage. In any case something quite well worth while investigating, and so a boat with C. B. as boat steerer put off to see what the waif might be. It was an hour’s strenuous pull before they reached the object, but some time before C. B.’s eyes had made it out to be a boat, apparently derelict.
But when they drew up alongside of the wanderer a simultaneous groan of pity burst from them, for the sight they saw chilled their blood. There were four ghastly objects lying across the thwarts that had once been men but now looked like mummified corpses. Burnt black by the sun, every bone showing clearly beneath the strained withered skin, hair and beards like weeds, and lying in the bottom of the boat sundry awful fragments of humanity that told their own horrible tale of cannibalism. And a foul stench arose from the boat which befouled the pure air and made the visitors feel deathly sick.
It was no time, however, to give way to any weakness of that sort, especially as they had nothing with them in the way of restoratives, supposing that any life remained in these pitiful relics of human beings. So they made the strange boat fast to their own, and turning shoreward laid to their oars with all their might. Fortunately it was an almost perfectly calm day, so that the passage through the breakers was accomplished with little difficulty, and when they reached the beach there were scores of willing hands ready to help. They lifted the poor wrecks ashore tenderly, finding that two of them still breathed, and immediately carried them off to where hot milk and the juice of fresh fruit could be administered to them. Very gently and patiently they strove to coax back the fast departing life into those frail bundles of bones, and were at last rewarded by hearing some words in a tongue that none of them could understand issuing from the cracked lips of one of the men.
Their curiosity was restrained, however, by the absolute necessity of keeping the poor creatures quiet if the flickering sparks of life were to be kept glowing, and presently they were delighted by seeing both the rescued ones fall into a deep sleep. Then they turned their attention to the burial of the dead in their little graveyard with all the sweet and simple solemnity they used in their own interments. But the dreadful evidences of cannibalism in the boat could not be forgotten, much as they tried to excuse and extenuate, for all of them felt that nothing would ever have induced them to act in the same manner. Still, these children of peace would not condemn, despite their horror, and their pity was immense.
Long and earnest were the consultations and speculations on the circumstances which had led to the casting away of these poor waifs, but when the time had come for retiring for the night only one possible solution of the mystery had been arrived at—that these were survivors of some terrible shipwreck, and all thanked God that such a frightful experience had never been theirs. And so in this good and peaceful atmosphere of peace and love the little community went to their happy rest.
CHAPTER V Entertaining Devils Unaware
With the first streak of dawn, as was their wont, all the islanders were astir, and their first thoughts were for the rescued ones. The news soon spread throughout the community that the two men had awakened, mightily refreshed, and that one of them could speak a few words of English. All ordinary tasks were neglected, and practically the whole village flocked to the house where they, the rescued ones, had been sheltered for the night. And there they saw their guests gaunt, wild-eyed and scared-looking, holding quite a levee, and one endeavouring to explain how they came to be there.
It was a difficult task, for his English was of the feeblest and his pronunciation of the words he did know so extraordinary that it required many repetitions of even the simplest phrases and great patience on the part of the listeners to gather the sense of what he said. At last, however, they learned that these two were the sole survivors of ten men, who, after killing two of their guardians, had escaped from New Caledonia, the French convict island. Four weeks had elapsed since they had seen the last of that awful place of their imprisonment, four weeks of such horror that the scanty words of English possessed by the spokesman could only give the barest outline of them. But quite enough was told to satisfy them that such an experience savoured of that place of torment of which they never spoke but in whispers, and they wondered much whether the men who had succumbed early in the struggle were not the more fortunate. And gradually, as they grew more and more accustomed to the curious speech of the man who was trying to explain, they learned of doings within the narrow compass of that boat adrift helplessly upon the great lone sea that made their flesh crawl upon their bones, which made them involuntarily shrink from the narrator, whose utter unconcern as he told in baldest words the story of his adventures, fascinated them while it frightened them. For none of them had ever realized such a depth of callous depravity as was now manifested before them.