The Crater; Or, Vulcan's Peak: A Tale of the Pacific

by James Fenimore Cooper

The Spanish Armada. Macauley.

The building of the houses, and of the schooner, was occupation for everybody, for a long time. The first were completed in season to escape the rains; but the last was on the stocks fully six months after her keel had been laid. The fine weather had returned, even, and she was not yet launched. So long a period had intervened since Waally's visit to Rancocus Island without bringing any results, that the council began to hope the Indians had given up their enterprises, from the consciousness of not having the means to carry them out; and almost every one ceased to apprehend danger from that quarter. In a word, so smoothly did the current of life flow, on the Reef and at Vulcan's Peak, that there was probably more danger of their inhabitants falling into the common and fatal error of men in prosperity, than of anything else; or, of their beginning to fancy that they deserved all the blessings that were conferred on them, and forgetting the hand that bestowed them. As if to recall them to a better sense of things, events now occurred which it is our business to relate, and which aroused the whole colony from the sort of pleasing trance into which they had fallen, by the united influence of security, abundance, and a most seductive climate.

As time rolled on, in the first place, the number of the colony had begun to augment by natural means. Friend Martha had presented Friend Robert with a little Robert; and Bridget made Mark the happy parent of a very charming girl. This last event occurred about the commencement of the summer, and just a twelvemonth after the happy reunion of the young couple. According to Mark's prophecy, Jones had succeeded with Joan, and they were married even before the expiration of the six months mentioned. On the subject of a marriage ceremony there was no difficulty, Robert and Martha holding a Friends' meeting especially to quiet the scruples of the bride, though she was assured the form could do no good, since the bridegroom did not belong to meeting. The governor read the church service on the occasion, too, which did no harm, if it did no good. About this time, poor Peters, envying the happiness of all around him, and still pining for his Petrina, or Peggy, as he called her himself, begged of the governor the use of the Dido, in order that he might make a voyage to Wally's group in quest of his lost companion. Mark knew how to feel for one in the poor fellow's situation, and he could not think of letting him go alone on an expedition of so much peril. After deliberating on the matter, he determined to visit Rancocus Island himself—not having been in that direction, now, for months—and to go in the Neshamony, in order to take a couple of hogs over; it having long been decided to commence breeding that valuable animal, in the wild state, on the hills of that uninhabited land.

The intelligence that a voyage was to be made to Rancocus Island seemed to infuse new life into the men of the colony, every one of whom wished to be of the party. The governor had no objection to indulging as many as it might be prudent to permit to go; but he saw the necessity of putting some restraint on the movement. After canvassing the matter in the council, it was determined that, in addition to Mark and Peters, who went of course, the party should consist of Bob, Bigelow, and Socrates. The carpenter was taken to look for trees that might serve to make the ways of the schooner, which was yet to be launched; and the latter was thought necessary in his capacity of a cook. As for Betts, he went along as the governor's counsellor and companion.

Bridget's little girl was born in the cabin of the ship; and the week preceding that set for the voyage, she and the child were taken across to the Peak, that the former might spend the period of her husband's absence with Anne, in the Garden of Eden. These absences and occasional visits gave a zest to lives that might otherwise have become too monotonous, and were rather encouraged than avoided. It was, perhaps, a little strange that Bridget rather preferred the Reef than the Peak for a permanent residence; but there was her much-beloved ship, and there she ever had her still more beloved husband for a companion.

On the appointed day, the Neshamony set sail, having on board a family of three of the swine. The plan for the excursion included a trip to the volcano, which had not yet been actually visited by any of the colonists. Mark had been within a league of it, and Bob had passed quite near to it in his voyage to the Peak; but no one had ever positively landed, or made any of those close examinations of the place, which, besides being of interest in a general way, was doubly so to those who were such near neighbours to a place of the kind. This visit Mark now decided to make on his way to leeward, taking the volcano in his course to Rancocus Island. The détour would lead the Neshamony some fifteen or eighteen leagues on one side; but there was abundance of time, and the volcano ought to be no longer neglected.

The wind did not blow as fresh as in common, and the Neshamony did not draw near to the volcano until late in the afternoon of the day she sailed. The party approached this place with due caution, and not without a good deal of awe. As the lead was used, it was found that the water shoaled gradually for several leagues, becoming less and less, deep as the boat drew near to the cone, which was itself a circular and very regular mountain, of some six or eight hundred feet in height, with a foundation of dry rock and lava, that might have contained a thousand acres. Everything seemed solid and permanent; and our mariners were of opinion there was very little danger of this formation ever disappearing below the surface of the sea again.

The volcano being in activity, some care was necessary in landing. Mark took the Neshamony to windward, and found a curvature in the rocks where it was possible to get ashore without having the boat knocked to pieces. He and Bob then went as near the cone as the falling stones would allow, and took as good a survey of the place as could be done under the circumstances. That there would be soil, and plenty of it, sooner or later, was plain enough; and that the island might become a scene of fertility and loveliness, in the course of ages, like so many others of volcanic origin in that quarter of the world, was probable. But that day was distant; and Mark was soon satisfied that the great use of the spot was its being a vent to what would otherwise be the pent and dangerous forces that were in the course of a constant accumulation beneath.

The party had been about an hour on the island, and was about to quit it, when a most startling discovery was made. Bob saw a canoe drawn close in among the rocks to leeward, and, on a further examination, a man was seen near it. At first, this was taken as an indication of hostilities, but, on getting a second look, our mariners were satisfied that nothing of that sort was to be seriously apprehended. It was determined to go nearer to the stranger, at once, and learn the whole truth.

A cry from Peters, followed by his immediately springing forward to meet a second person, who had left the canoe, and who was bounding like a young antelope to meet him, rendered everything clear sooner even than had been anticipated. All supposed that this eager visitor was a woman, and no one doubted that it was Peggy, the poor fellow's Indian wife. Peggy it proved to be; and after the weeping, and laughing, and caressing of the meeting were a little abated, the following explanation was made by Peters, who spoke the language of his wife with a good deal of facility, and who acted as interpreter.