“The ship Flying Cloud (Blyth, master), which left London for Melbourne on —, and which afterwards picked up the derelict barque Umhloti, of Aberdeen, and sent her into port.”
Chapter Twelve.
Mr Gaunt goes on an exploring expedition.
It is now time to return to the little party of passengers, who, it will be remembered, were left in a situation which was certainly the reverse of pleasant.
Mr Gaunt, whose profession peculiarly adapted him to cope with such difficulties as those which now environed the party, at once naturally took the lead and assumed the direction of affairs—a position which Dr Henderson most willingly accorded him, counting himself indeed fortunate in being thus associated with a man of such infinite resource as the engineer. In their present state, the first thing to be done was to provide a shelter for the helpless women and children of the party; and no sooner was the boat’s cargo discharged upon the beach and conveyed in safety above high-water-mark than was this task commenced. A suitable position for the tent, which Gaunt proposed to put up, was soon found among the trees, which grew thickly in clumps on the gentle slopes just beyond the sandy beach. Two cocoanut-trees, growing at a convenient distance apart, were selected as uprights; and a young sapling was then cut down and lashed horizontally from trunk to trunk, at a height of about nine feet from the ground, to serve as a ridge-pole. The sail was next hauled over this sapling and secured to the ground on each side, in such a form as to make an A shaped tent about twelve feet long by eight feet wide, the spare canvas being so split that it fell down at the rear and front end of the tent in such a way as to enable the little shelter to be completely closed when necessary. And, this done, the bedding, as well as such articles as it was important to protect from the weather, were at once placed under shelter, and the interior of the tent made as comfortable as circumstances would permit; thus completing the first portion of their task. The next thing was to construct a shelter for the powder—and in fact their little all, in the shape of worldly possessions, which they thought it undesirable to put into the tent. Two more cocoanut-trees were selected; another stout sapling was cut and secured between them, as in the case of the tent, though not quite so high from the ground, and then a quantity of other and somewhat lighter saplings were procured to form a roof, which by sunset next day they had succeeded in covering with a good serviceable thatch, quite impenetrable to the weather. But before this was accomplished they were unexpectedly reinforced by the sudden appearance of Nicholls, whose presence upon the island up to that moment had been quite unsuspected by them. This individual had been so anxious to avoid all possibility of recapture that he spent the night in the woods, presenting himself to the little party as they sat at breakfast next morning. His sudden appearance created quite a sensation for the moment; but he was almost instantly recognised.
“Why, Nicholls!” exclaimed Gaunt, “what is the meaning of this? What are you doing here? I thought you and the rest of the mutineers were far enough away by this time.”
“Well, sir,” said Nicholls, twisting his cap nervously in his hands as he spoke, “I hopes the rest of the mutineers are, as you say, far enough away by this time, but I am here, and here I intends to remain—with your good leave, sir. The fact is, Mr Gaunt, I’ve cut and run! That fellow Williams—as, perhaps, you may know, sir—is a rare good ’un to talk, and he managed to talk me, as well as the rest of the hands, quite into the idee that pirating was just the best thing a poor down-trodden seaman could turn his hand to. Lord bless you, Mr Gaunt, if you had heard that man I’m blessed if I don’t think he would have persuaded you into the same idee! But after I had agreed to jine them I began to think matters over a bit, and the more I thought about it the less I liked it; and at last I made up my mind that I’d slip my moorings aboard the Cloud the first chance as ever I got. And when I got to hear that Williams was going to turn you two gentlemen and your respected families ashore here, I says to myself, ‘Now’s your time, Tom!’ And so I managed to get told off for service in one of the boats, and, watching my chance, I sort of strolled up among the trees and then took to my heels, quite determined not to show up again until the Cloud’s to’ga’nts’ls had sunk below the horizon. And now, here I am, sir, ready and willing to ship with you. I’m nothing but a poor ignorant man—a blacksmith, rightly, by trade—but mayhap I may be able to make myself useful enough to earn my bread and cheese.”
“Well, Nicholls,” said Mr Gaunt, “I am heartily glad to see you, my man. And, as to your earning your bread and cheese, a stout, handy fellow like you, and a blacksmith to boot, will be a considerable acquisition to us in our present circumstances. I have no doubt that Williams managed to make his plans very attractive to you poor fellows in the forecastle; but wait and see how they will all end. We know not what is before us. We shall, doubtless, have to endure much hardship and be exposed to countless perils before we once more reach the shores of old England—if ever we are fortunate enough to do so. But, whatever hardship or peril may fall to our lot, I feel confident that in the end you will be better off with us than you would have been with Williams and his piratical crew. But sit down man; sit down and take some breakfast. You must be nearly famished by this time, if, as I suppose, you have eaten nothing since you left the ship yesterday.”