We were next called upon to part with one of the Pelew chiefs who had come with us. He died of absolute starvation, and, according to custom, was committed to the waves in an old canoe. In a short time after this, the Pelew private (who had also come with us) was detected in the crime of taking a few cocoa-nuts without leave; for which offence he had his hands tied behind him, and was put into a canoe and sent adrift; which was their usual method of punishment for offences of different kinds.
About a year and seven months from the commencement of our captivity Milton Hewlet died, and, like the others, was, according to the custom of the natives, committed to the ocean. A short time afterwards Charles C. Bouket, having become so reduced by his sufferings as to be unable to help himself, was (horrible to relate!) placed in a canoe, while still alive, and committed to the mercy of the ocean. Thus did one after another of our companions sink under the weight of their sufferings, and perish without any alleviation of their wretchedness. Nute and myself, with our friend Kobac, the other Pelew chief, were all that remained; and we were constantly expecting that the next hour would end our existence.
The idea of death, however, had now become familiar; and often did we desire the release from suffering which that alone could afford. Nothing, as it now appears to us, but the kind interposition of Providence, could have continued our lives, and have given us the power of endurance to hold out so long as we did. We were frequently so reduced as to be unable to walk, and were forced to drag ourselves on our hands and knees to some place where we could lie down under the shade of a bush, and take rest. But the small comfort to be obtained in this way was greatly lessened by the annoyance of musquetoes, which could attack us with impunity in our helpless and feeble condition. Besides this, our flesh had so fallen away, that on lying down, our bones would actually pierce through the skin, giving us the most severe pain. After we were tattooed, the parts operated upon were, for a long time, running sores; and when exposed to the sun, the pain was excruciating.
It has been already said, that the natives were indolent, filthy and degraded, but the half has not been told; and some things which we witnessed cannot be related. The intercourse of the sexes was unrestrained by any law; and the decencies of life were almost entirely neglected. Instead of taking pains to keep clean, they seemed to be not unwilling to have their heads overrun with vermin; and however incredible it may seem, it is a disgusting truth, that they are accustomed to eat them; and particular care seems to be taken to keep those loathsome animals in the heads of the children. But I forbear any further particulars.
I have already said, that only two of the crew of the Mentor, namely, Nute and myself, remained alive, with the exception of captain Barnard and Rollins, who had fortunately escaped. The Pelew chief had become strongly attached to us, and we take pleasure in stating the fact, that his faithfulness and affection had greatly endeared him to us. He seemed more like a brother than a barbarian; and most gladly would we have saved him from those sufferings which, no doubt, before this time, have terminated his life. Alas! it was not in our power to administer to his relief; and when we last saw him he was but just alive.
CHAPTER X.
The feeble and exhausted condition of the survivors, Nute and Holden.—The natives consent to release them from labor, but refuse them food; and they obtain permission to leave the island in the first vessel, for a compensation to be made to the natives.—They crawl about from place to place, subsisting upon leaves, and occasionally begging a little food of the natives, for two months.—Their sudden joy at hearing of a vessel coming towards the island.—It proves to be the British barque Britannia, captain Short, bound to Canton.—They are taken on board the Britannia, November 27, 1834, and treated with the kindest attention.—Their joy and gratitude at this happy termination of their sufferings.—They gradually recover their health so far as to take passage for America, in the ship Morrison, bound for New York, where they arrive May 5, 1835.—Acknowledgments for their kind reception at New York and Boston.
Having thus briefly related the story of our captivity and sufferings, it only remains to give an account of our escape from this barbarous people. We continued to survive the horrible sufferings to which we were constantly subjected, and to serve our tyrannical masters, in despite of our agonies of body and mind, till the beginning of the autumn of 1834; at which time we had become so emaciated, feeble, and sickly, that we found it impossible any longer even to attempt to labor. By this time we had acquired a sufficient knowledge of their tongue to converse fluently with the natives, and we informed our masters, that our feeble condition rendered it impossible for us to attempt to do any thing more. We also reasoned the matter with them, telling them that death was our inevitable doom, unless we were allowed to relax our labor; that if we died we could be of no service to them, but if allowed a respite, and we lived, and could be put on board a vessel, they should be liberally rewarded.
With much difficulty we at length persuaded our masters to allow us to quit labor, and obtained from them a promise to be put on board the first vessel that should come to the island. But, at the same time, they informed us, that if we ceased to work, they should cease to furnish the miserable allowance of cocoa-nut on which we had before subsisted, and that we must either labor or starve. We deemed death as welcome in one shape as in another, and relinquished our labors and our pittance of food together.