My cure would doubtless have been much sooner effected had I have been in a civilised country, where I could have had it dressed by a surgeon and properly attended to. But alas! I had no good Samaritan, with oil and wine, to bind up my wounds, and fortunate might I even esteem myself that I was permitted to dress it myself, for the utmost that I could expect from the natives was compassion for my misfortunes, which I indeed experienced from the women, particularly the queen, or favourite wife of Maquina, the mother of Sat-sat-sok-sis, who used frequently to point to my head, and manifest much kindness and solicitude for me. I must do Maquina the justice to acknowledge, that he always appeared desirous of sparing me any labour which he believed might be hurtful to me, frequently inquiring in an affectionate manner if my head pained me. As for the others, some of the chiefs excepted, they cared little what became of me, and probably would have been gratified with my death.
My health being at length re-established and my wound healed, Thompson became very importunate for me to begin my journal, and as I had no ink, proposed to cut his finger to supply me with blood for the purpose whenever I should want it. On the 1st of June I accordingly commenced a regular diary, but had no occasion to make use of the expedient suggested by my comrade, having found a much better substitute in the expressed juice of a certain plant, which furnished me with a bright green colour, and, after making a number of trials, I at length succeeded in obtaining a very tolerable ink, by boiling the juice of the blackberry with a mixture of finely powdered charcoal, and filtering it through a cloth. This I afterwards preserved in bottles, and found it answer very well, so true is it that "necessity is the mother of invention." As for quills, I found no difficulty in procuring them whenever I wanted, from the crows and ravens with which the beach was almost always covered, attracted by the offal of whales, seals, etc., and which were so tame that I could easily kill them with stones, while a large clam-shell furnished me with an inkstand.
The extreme solicitude of Thompson that I should begin my journal might be considered as singular in a man who neither knew how to read or write, a circumstance, by the way, very uncommon in an American, were we less acquainted with the force of habit, he having been for many years at sea, and accustomed to consider the keeping of a journal as a thing indispensable. This man was born in Philadelphia, and at eight years old ran away from his friends and entered as a cabin boy on board a ship bound to London. On his arrival there, finding himself in distress, he engaged as an apprentice to the captain of a collier, from whence he was impressed on board an English man-of-war, and continued in the British naval service about twenty-seven years, during which he was present at the engagement under Lord Howe with the French fleet in June 1794, and when peace was made between England and France, was discharged. He was a very strong and powerful man, an expert boxer, and perfectly fearless; indeed, so little was his dread of danger, that when irritated he was wholly regardless of his life. Of this the following will furnish a sufficient proof:—
One evening about the middle of April, as I was at the house of one of the chiefs, where I had been employed on some work for him, word was brought me that Maquina was going to kill Thompson. I immediately hurried home, where I found the king in the act of presenting a loaded musket at Thompson, who was standing before him with his breast bared and calling on him to fire. I instantly stepped up to Maquina, who was foaming with rage, and, addressing him in soothing words, begged him for my sake not to kill my father, and at length succeeded in taking the musket from him and persuading him to sit down.
On inquiring into the cause of his anger, I learned that, while Thompson was lighting the lamps in the king's room, Maquina having substituted ours for their pine torches, some of the boys began to tease him, running around him and pulling him by the trousers, among the most forward of whom was the young prince. This caused Thompson to spill the oil, which threw him into such a passion, that, without caring what he did, he struck the prince so violent a blow in his face with his fist as to knock him down. The sensation excited among the savages by an act which was considered as the highest indignity, and a profanation of the sacred person of majesty, may be easily conceived. The king was immediately acquainted with it, who, on coming in and seeing his son's face covered with blood, seized a musket and began to load it, determined to take instant revenge of the audacious offender, and had I arrived a few moments later than I did, my companion would certainly have paid with his life for his rash and violent conduct. I found the utmost difficulty in pacifying Maquina, who for a long time after could not forgive Thompson, but would repeatedly say, "John, you die—Thompson kill."
But to appease the king was not all that was necessary. In consequence of the insult offered to their prince, the whole tribe held a council, in which it was unanimously resolved that Thompson should be put to death in the most cruel manner. I however interceded so strenuously with Maquina for his life, telling him that if my father was killed, I was determined not to survive him, that he refused to deliver him up to the vengeance of his people, saying, that for John's sake they must consent to let him live. The prince, who, after I had succeeded in calming his father, gave me an account of what had happened, told me that it was wholly out of regard to me, as Thompson was my father, that his life had been spared, for that if any one of the tribe should dare to lift a hand against him in anger, he would most certainly be put to death.
Yet even this narrow escape produced not much effect on Thompson, or induced him to restrain the violence of his temper. For, not many weeks after, he was guilty of a similar indiscretion, in striking the eldest son of a chief, who was about eighteen years old, and, according to their custom, was considered as a Tyee, or chief, himself, in consequence of his having provoked him by calling him a white slave. This affair caused great commotion in the village, and the tribe was very clamorous for his death, but Maquina would not consent.
I used frequently to remonstrate with him on the imprudence of his conduct, and beg him to govern his temper better, telling him that it was our duty, since our lives were in the power of these savages, to do nothing to exasperate them. But all I could say on this point availed little, for so bitter was the hate he felt for them, which he was no way backward in manifesting both by his looks and actions, that he declared he never would submit to their insults, and that he had much rather be killed than be obliged to live among them; adding that he only wished he had a good vessel and some guns, and he would destroy the whole of the cursed race; for to a brave sailor like him, who had fought the French and Spaniards with glory, it was a punishment worse than death to be a slave to such a poor, ignorant, despicable set of beings.
As for myself, I thought very differently. After returning thanks to that merciful Being who had in so wonderful a manner softened the hearts of the savages in my favour, I had determined from the first of my capture to adopt a conciliating conduct towards them, and conform myself, as far as was in my power, to their customs and mode of thinking, trusting that the same divine goodness that had rescued me from death, would not always suffer me to languish in captivity among these heathens.
With this view, I sought to gain their goodwill by always endeavouring to assume a cheerful countenance, appearing pleased with their sports and buffoon tricks, making little ornaments for the wives and children of their chiefs, by which means I became quite a favourite with them, and fish-hooks, daggers, etc., for themselves.