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

by James Fenimore Cooper

This plan was carried out just as Waally had assembled his chiefs around his own canoe, whither he had called them by an order, to consult on the manner in which the entire coast of the island ought to be examined, that a landing might be effected. The report of the gun came quite unexpectedly to all parties; the echo, which rolled along the cliffs for miles, being absolutely terrific! Owing to the woods and intervening rocks, the natives could see no smoke, which added to their surprise, and was doubtless one reason they did not, at first, comprehend the long, cracking, thundering sounds that, as it might be, rolled out towards them from the island. A cry arose that the strange rocks were speaking, and that the Gods of the place were angry. This was followed by a general and confused flight;—the canoes, paddling away as if their people were apprehensive of being buried beneath the tumbling rocks. For half an hour nothing was seen but frantic efforts to escape, nothing heard but the dip of the paddle and the wash of its rise.

Thus far the plan of the governor had succeeded even beyond his expectations. Could he get rid of these savages without bloodshed, it would afford him sincere delight, it being repugnant to all his feelings to sweep away rows of such ignorant men before the murderous fire of his cannon. While he and Heaton were congratulating each other on the encouraging appearances, a messenger came down from the Peak, where Bridget remained on the look-out, to report that the boat had drifted in, and was getting close under the cliffs, on the northern end of the island, which was in fact coming close under the Peak itself. A signal to push for the cove had been named to Juno, and Bridget desired to know whether it ought to be made, else the boat would shortly be too near in, to see it. The governor thought the moment favourable, for the canoes were still paddling in a body away from the spot whence the roar had proceeded, and their course carried them to the southward and westward, while Unus would approach from the northward and eastward. Word was sent, accordingly, to make the signal.

Bridget no sooner received this order than she showed the flag, which was almost immediately answered by setting the boat's sail. Unus now evidently took the direction of matters on board the Dido, It is probable he appreciated the effect of the gun and its echo, the first of which he fully comprehended, though the last was as great and as awful a mystery to him, as to any one of his countrymen. Nevertheless, he imputed the strange and fearful roar of the cliffs to some control of the whites over the power of the hills, and regarded it as a friendly roar, even while he trembled. Not so would it be with his countrymen, did he well know; they would retire before it; and the signal being given at that instant, the young Indian had no hesitation about the course he ought to take.

Unus understood sailing a boat perfectly well. On setting his sail, he stood on in the Dido until he was obliged to bear up on account of the cliffs. This brought him so close to the rocks as greatly to diminish the chances of being seen. There both wind and current aided his progress; the first drawing round the end of the island, the coast of which it followed in a sort of eddy, for some time, and the latter setting down towards the cove, which was less than two miles from the north bluff. In twenty minutes after he had made sail, Unus was entering the secret little harbour, Waally and his fleet being quite out of sight from one as low as the surface of the ocean, still paddling away to the south-west, as hard as they could.

Great was the exultation of the colonists, at this escape of Juno's. It even surpassed their happiness at the retreat of their invaders. If the boat were actually unseen, the governor believed the impression was sufficient to keep the savages aloof for a long time, if not for ever; since they would not fail to ascribe the roar, and the smoke of the volcano, and all the mysteries of the place, to supernatural agencies. If the sail had been seen, however, it was possible that, on reflection, their courage might revive, and more would be seen of them. Unus was extolled by everybody, and seemed perfectly happy. Peggy communicated his thoughts, which were every way in favour of his new friends. Waally he detested. He denounced him as a ruthless tyrant, and declared he would prefer death to submission to his exactions. Juno highly approved of all his sentiments, and was soon known as a sworn friend of Peggy's. This hatred of tyranny is innate in men, but it is necessary to distinguish between real oppression and those restraints which are wholesome, if not indispensable to human happiness. As for the canoes, they were soon out of sight in the south-western hoard, running off, under their sails, before the wind. Waally, himself, was too strong-minded and resolute, to be as much overcome by the echo, as his companions; but, so profound and general was the awe excited, that he did not think it advisable to persevere in his projects, at a moment so discouraging. Acquiescing in the wishes of all around him, the expedition drew off from the island, making the best of its way back to the place from which it had last sailed. All these circumstances became known to the colonists, in the end, as well as the reasoning and the more minute incidents that influenced the future movements; For the time being, however, Woolston and his friends were left to their own conjectures on the Subject; which, however, were not greatly out of the way. It was an hour after Juno and Unus were safe up on the plain, before the look-outs at the Peak finally lost sight of the fleet, which, when last seen, was steering a course that would carry it between the volcano and Rancocus Island, and might involve it in serious difficulties in the succeeding night. There was no land in sight from the highest points on Rancocus Island, nor any indications of land, in a south-westerly direction; and, did the canoes run past the latter, the imminent danger of a general catastrophe would be the consequence. Once at sea, under an uncertainty as to the course to be steered, the situation of those belonging to the expedition would be painful, indeed, nor could the results be foreseen. Waally, nevertheless, escaped the danger. Edging off to keep aloof from the mysterious smoke, which troubled his followers almost as much as the mysterious echoes, the party, most fortunately for themselves, got a distant view of the mountains for which they were running, and altered their course in sufficient time to reach their place of destination, Ly the return of light the succeeding morning.

All thoughts of the expedition to Rancocus Island were temporarily abandoned by the governor and his council. Mark was greatly disappointed, nor did his regrets cease with disappointment only. Should Waally leave a portion of his people on that island, a collision must occur, sooner or later; there being a moral impossibility of the two colonies continuing friends while so near each other. The nature of an echo would be ascertained, before many months, among the hills of Rancocus Island, and when that came to be understood, there was an end of the sacred character that the recent events had conferred on the Peak. Any straggling vagabond, or runaway from a ship, might purchase a present importance by explaining things, and induce the savages to renew their efforts. In a word, there was the moral certainty that hostilities must be renewed ere many months, did Waally remain so near them, and the question now seriously arose, whether it were better to press the advantage already obtained, and drive him back to his group, or to remain veiled behind the sort of mystery that at present enshrouded them. These points were gravely debated, and became subjects of as great interest among the colonists, as ever banks, or abolitionism, or antimasonry, or free-trade, or any other of the crotchets of the day, could possibly be in America. Many were the councils that were convened to settle this important point of policy, which, after all, like most other matters of moment, was decided more by the force of circumstances, than by any of the deductions of human reason. The weakness of the colony and the dangers to its existence, disposed of the question of an aggressive war. Waally was too strong to be assailed by a dozen enemies, and all the suggestions of prudence were in favour of remaining quiet, until the Friend Abraham White could, at least, be made available in the contest. Supported by that vessel, indeed, matters would be changed; and Mark thought it would be in his power to drive in Waally, and even to depose him and place Ooroony at the head of the natives once more. To finish and launch the schooner, therefore, was now the first great object, and, after a week of indecision and consultations, it was determined to set about that duty with vigour.

It will be easily seen, that the getting of the Abraham into the water was an affair of a good deal of delicacy, under the circumstances. The strait between the Peak and Cape South was thirty miles wide, and it was twenty more to the crater. Thus the party at work on the vessel would be fully fifty miles from the main abodes of the colony, and thrown quite out of the affair should another invasion be attempted. As for bringing the Neshamony, the Dido, the Bridget, and the fighter, into the combat, everybody was of opinion it would be risking too much. It is true, one of the swivels was mounted on the former, and might be of service, but the natives had got to be too familiar with fire-arms to render it prudent to rely on the potency of a single swivel, in a conflict against a force so numerous, and one led by a spirit as determined as that of Waally's was known to be. All idea of righting at sea, therefore, until the schooner was launched, was out of the question, and every energy was turned to effect the latter most important object. A separation of the forces of the colony was inevitable, in the meanwhile; and reliance must be placed on the protection of Providence, for keeping the enemy aloof until the vessel was ready for active service.

The labour requiring as much physical force as could be mustered, the arrangement was settled in council and approved by the governor, on the following plan, viz:—Mark was to proceed to the Reef with all the men that could be spared, and a portion of the females. It was not deemed safe, however, to leave the Peak with less than three defenders, Heaton, Peters and Unus being chosen for that important station; the former commanding, of course. Mark, Betts, Bigelow, Socrates, and Jones, formed the party for the Reef, to which were attached Bridget, Martha, Teresa, and the blacks. Bigelow went across, indeed, a day or two before the main party sailed, in order to look after Dido, and to get his work forward as fast as possible. When all was ready, and that was when ten days had gone by after the retreat of Waally, without bringing any further tidings from him, the governor sailed in the Neshamony, having the Bridget and the lighter in company, leaving the Dido for the convenience of Heaton and his set. Signals were agreed on, though the distance was so great as to render them of little use, unless a boat were mid-channel. A very simple and ingenious expedient, nevertheless, was suggested by Mark, in connection with this matter. A single tree grew so near the Peak as to be a conspicuous object from the ocean; it was not large, though it could be seen at a great distance, more particularly in the direction of the Reef. The governor intimated an intention to send a boat daily far enough out into the strait to ascertain whether this tree were, or were not standing; and Heaton was instructed to have it felled as soon as he had thoroughly ascertained that Waally was abroad again with hostile intentions. Other signals were also agreed on, in order to regulate the movements of the boats, in the event of their being called back to the Peak to repel an invasion.

With the foregoing arrangements completed and thoroughly understood, the governor set sail for the Reef, accompanied by his little squadron. It was an exquisitely beautiful day, one in which all the witchery of the climate developed itself, soothing the nerves and animating the spirits. Bridget had lost most of her apprehensions of the natives, and could laugh with her husband and play with her child almost as freely as before the late events. Everybody, indeed, was in high spirits, the launching of the schooner being regarded as a thing that would give them complete command of the adjacent seas.

The passage was short, a fresh breeze blowing, and four hours after quitting the cliffs, the Neshamony was under the lee of Cape South, and heading for the principal inlet. As the craft glided along, in perfectly smooth water now, Mark noted the changes that time was making on those rocks, which had so lately emerged from the depths of the ocean. The prairie, in particular, was every way worthy of his attention. A mass of sea-weed, which rested on a sort of stratum of mud immediately after the eruption, had now been the favourite pasturage of the hogs for more than a twelvemonth. These hogs at the present time exceeded fifty full-grown animals, and there were twice that number of grunters at their heels. Then the work they had done on the Prairie was incredible. Not less than hundreds of acres had they rooted over, mixing the sea-weed with the mud, and fast converting the whole into soil. The rains had washed away the salt, or converted it into manure, as well as contributing to the more rapid decay of the vegetable substances. In that climate the changes are very rapid, and Mark saw that another year or two would convert the whole of that vast range, which had been formerly computed at a surface of a thousand acres, into very respectable pastures, if not into meadows. Of meadows, however, there was very little necessity in that latitude; the eternal summer that reigned furnishing pasturage the year round. The necessary grasses might be wanting to seed down so large a surface, but those which Socrates had put in were well-rooted, and it was pretty certain they would, sooner or later, spread themselves over the whole field. In defiance of the hogs, and their increasing inroads, large patches were already green and flourishing. What is more, young trees were beginning to show themselves along the margin of the channels. Henton had brought over from Betto's group several large panniers made of green willows, and these Socrates had cut into strips, and thrust into the mud. Almost without an exception they had struck out roots, and never ceasing, day or night, to grow, they were already mostly of the height of a man. Four or five years would convert them into so many beautiful, if not very useful trees.