Next morning broke bright and crisp and clear, but it was cold, for autumn reigned in this dreary land. Once more a service for the dead, and as the body sank into the deep the poor sailor’s messmates turned sadly away, and more than one brought his arm to bear across his eyes.
As another attack was to be feared, it was determined to punish the islanders—to carry the war on shore, in fact—and so the four large boats were called away, only a few men being left on board to defend the ship. The guns were too heavy to take, but every man had a rifle, two revolvers and a cutlass.
For so small a vessel, the Wolverine was heavily manned, for from the beginning Captain Dickson had expected grim fighting.
This attack was more than the natives had calculated on. They did not stand the onset an instant, but fled from their village helter-skelter to the almost inaccessible mountains beyond, dropping their spears and bows to accelerate their flight. But the fire which was poured on them was a withering one, and brought many to the ground.
Emboldened by their success, Hall, with Dickson and his brave fellows, made a journey of several miles into the interior. The mountains were everywhere rugged and stern, and covered on their summits with snow that no doubt was perpetual.
But in the valleys beneath, which were quite uninhabited except by wild beasts and birds, were beautiful forests of dark waving cypresses, lofty pines, and beeches, their leaves tinted now with rose and yellow. Very silent and solemn were these woods; but for the savages that even now might be hidden in their dark depths, they seemed to woo one to that peace that only a forest can give.
A stream was meandering through the valley here, and many a glad fish leaped up from the pools, his scales shining like a rainbow in the sunlight.
All haste was now made to regain the shore, where but a few sailors had been left to guard the boats. Only just in time, for the savages were gathering for another attack, and coming down the hillsides in streams.
A hot volley or two dispersed them, however, and they once more hid behind the rocks.
Here in the village was evidence that these fire-fiends had been sitting down to a terrible feast of roasted human flesh! Doubtless they had killed the wounded and cooked them. It is a terrible thing to think of, but I have proof that a woman will eat of the dead body of either husband or brother, and the children too will ravenously partake. I dare not tell in a story like this the horrors of savage life that I have witnessed. I wish to interest, but not to horrify, my readers.