Palm Tree Island

by Herbert Strang

This made me think whether we could not devise a moving target, and though I could not hit upon any means for several days, I did at last, and we tried it, and it answered my expectations very well, and moreover furnished us with a kind of sport, which was very grateful to us in our loneliness. What we did was this: we made a target somewhat larger than our first, in the same manner, but shaped like a man, that is, the top was smaller than the rest, but we did not attempt to make limbs. We made it very light, for this reason: that we strung it to a thin rope made of the fibres of the plant I have mentioned before, this rope being tied to two trees, about twenty yards apart, and at the height of a man from the ground. We hung the target (or the Guy Fawkes, as Billy called it) to the rope by a large loop, and to this we tied another rope, but thinner, so that the guy could be drawn easily along the rope from tree to tree. Then we took turns, the one shooting at the guy with his arrows while the other drew it along as quickly as he could, and we tried which of us could plant the most arrows in the figure while it moved over this space of twenty yards, the loser having to prepare the food for next day's meals. We found it very good sport and very good practice too, and there was not much to choose between us, though I think I became a trifle more expert than Billy, he excelling me in muscular strength, but I having, or acquiring, a certain knack with which strength has nothing to do.

You may be sure that as soon as we had attained to any skill in hitting our running man Billy was mad to go out once more and shoot pigs, and we were talking about doing so, as we ate our breakfast one morning, when we heard a great uproar in the wood just below the mountain, running out towards the natural archway. It seemed as if all the dogs in the island were barking and yelping at once. Wondering what the cause might be, we snatched up our bows and arrows, having also our axes as usual, and hasting across the lava bed towards the noise, we came upon a great sow with a litter of tiny pigs, and twenty or more dogs around them. This amazed us, for we had never seen the dogs attack the pigs before, and I guessed that they would not have done so now, only the sow was limping as if one of her legs was broken, and I thought she might have fallen from a height, the ground hereabouts being very rough and jagged. However, she was making a good fight of it against the dogs, and we stopped to watch the struggle, forgetting our own errand.

The dogs, as I have before shown, were possessed of a certain degree of cunning, and while some of them held the sow at bay, others rushed in among the litter and carried off at least one of the piglets; the mother, threatened on all sides, being unable to defend all her family. After we had watched the scene for a little, Billy whispered to me, "I say, master, you ain't a-going to let the dogs have all the pork?" I agreed that we had as good a right to it as they, so we ran forward shouting, and the dogs, which had seized enough of the litter to make a very good meal, ran away with their booty, being plainly afraid that we should attempt to take it from them.

When the sow spied us she knew that we were as dangerous enemies to her family as the dogs; at least she guessed it, for she made a very savage rush at Billy, who was nearest to her, and would have overthrown him but that she was lame and he was nimble. We took counsel together what we should do, having a mind to capture her and lead her to our settlement by the lake, for we knew that the little ones would follow her, and Billy had a great notion of starting a piggery. But we saw that, her leg being broken, we should have great difficulty in leading her over the hill, even if our united strength could pull her: yet we did not like to leave her to the mercy of the dogs, which would certainly worry her slowly to death, helpless as she was. Accordingly we thought it best to kill her outright, and while Billy did this with his axe, I easily caught two of the little ones, which remained near their mother, and held them by the legs until Billy came to my assistance, and then we tied their legs together with creepers, so that they could not escape. Then Billy caught another one, and reached after the fourth, which, however, had become alarmed and scampered away, only to be snapped up by the dogs.

Now the question was, how should we bring the dead sow and the live piglets to our hut by the lake?—for we had determined to eat the sow and to keep the little ones alive. The sow was too heavy for one, or even both of us, to carry over the steep and rocky hillside; the little pigs were too small to be driven and must be carried. If we took the sow and left the pigs, they would be seized by the dogs; while if we took them and left the sow, there would be very little remaining of her by the time we came back. We settled that I should carry the pigs home, and bring back ropes for dragging the carcase, over which Billy would keep guard; so I took a little squealing one under each arm, and Billy slung the third to my back with a creeper, and I was about to start when Billy said: "What if old father bacon hears their squeals and comes after you?" In that case I should certainly have to drop one of the pigs to wield my axe: my bow and arrows, of course, I could not carry; but I must take the risk, and so set off, very well laden.

I came safely to our hut, and shut up the pigs inside (which was a trouble to us afterwards, but there was no help for it at the time, we having no other place in which to secure them), and then, taking some of our ropes, I hastened back to Billy. But I had no sooner got to the top of the slope above the lake than I heard the same barking and yelping and snarling as before, and in the same direction. This made me hurry my steps, and 'twas well I did so, for when I came upon the scene, there was Billy by the sow, and the pack of dogs leaping with great uproar about him, he having his back to a rock, and very manfully wielding his axe to keep off the furious animals. The moment I saw this I gave a great shout, having before observed that nothing was more likely to scare these wild creatures, and rushed upon them, and seeing me they turned tail and scampered away into the wood.

I found Billy in a very sad case. He told me that I had not long departed when the dogs came creeping up, and then, being worked into a frenzy by the sight and the scent of the carcase, and emboldened by seeing only one instead of two boys, they had made a rush upon him. He shot at them when he perceived that they were closing in, and I found that one arrow had killed a dog, another was sticking in the ground, and a third had broken against a spar of rock. Then he could no longer shoot, because they were upon him, but he killed two with his axe, not before he had been severely bitten about the legs, as he tried to prevent them from mangling the sow, and indeed he was in very great danger when I appeared to his rescue. The carcase had been so torn by the dogs that I did not care to have anything more to do with it; besides, Billy was so severely hurt, though he did not complain, that I saw he could give me little help in dragging the carcase home; for which reasons we decided to leave it to the dogs, and I only regretted that we had not done so before. I was so anxious about Billy, wondering whether his blood would be poisoned by the bite of the dogs, that I forgot to pick up our bows and arrows until he reminded me of them, and indeed he insisted on my gathering up two of those he had shot, the third being broken, saying that we could not spare any now that we had to reckon the dogs as our mortal enemies. Leaving the carcase, then, which the dogs were at instantly, we returned to our place, and then I bathed Billy's wounds with water from the lake, and tore a great strip off my shirt to make bandages, for which Billy blamed me, but what else could I do?

A Pig-sty

Since we could not endure that the pigs should be with us in the hut (they had been there too long already), we had to build a sty for them, or rather I had to, for Billy tried very bravely to help me, but had to give up after a short while. For some days he wore a very troubled look, asking me whether I thought he would go mad; but he cheered up wonderfully as the days passed and he did not take a dislike to water. I made as good a sty as I could with logs and branches, tying up the pigs inside so that they could not get away, but we were awakened in the middle of the night by a loud squealing, and when I ran out I found that the dogs had come and scratched away a part of the weak fence, and I was only just in time to save the piglets from them. Since I could do nothing to strengthen the sty in the darkness, I built a great fire near it, and sat by it for the rest of the night, in no very agreeable frame of mind, I assure you, and wishing that we had not brought the pigs, for being wild they were scarce likely to thrive in captivity. However, Billy was so set upon commencing swine-herd that I gave in to him, and next day began to build another sty, somewhat farther from the hut, and very much stronger, in which we put two of the pigs, killing the third and roasting a part for our dinner, hanging the rest up in the smoke of our fire to cure it. For roasting we made a tripod like to those that gipsies have, and not having any metal we made it of pottery ware, moulding the clay about three straight saplings.