Tom Wallis: A Tale of the South Seas

by Louis Becke

It certainly did settle down to business properly, for before another hour had passed the wind was blowing with almost hurricane force, and the sea was a succession of seething, foaming billows, which, dashing furiously against the eastern shore of the island, sent their spume and spray in a continuous misty shower, high up among the swaying and crashing branches of the trees half a mile inland.

Sitting under the shelter of the great tree, Tom and his comrades listened to the howling of the storm with feelings of the utmost serenity, for they were completely protected from its force.

'Let us light a fire,' said Bill, picking up a tomahawk; 'the smoke of fifty fires wouldn't be noticed now, and we can cook the pork and fish.'

The dead tree itself furnished plenty of firewood, and presently Bill and Tom had cut quite a pile; then the former went to the shore with a bag, and returned with it half filled with large, rough stones.

'I'll show you how we cook in the South Seas, Mr. Wallis,' he said, as he turned out the stones and began to dig out a shallow hole in the soft soil just in front of their shelter. This done, he lit a fire in the centre of the hole, laid a lot of thick pieces of wood across, and then piled the stones on top.

Then as the fire blazed up and began to heat the stones, he and Charlie took the four quarters of pork, cut them up into smaller pieces, wrapped each portion in wide green leaves and placed them aside; the fish were simply disembowelled without being scaled, and then neatly parcelled round with coconut leaf, the crab being treated in the same manner. In the course of an hour the stones, at white heat, fell into the depression, and were spread out evenly by means of a stick, the pork and fish placed on them, and then the whole lot quickly covered up by layers of thick heavy leaves, on top of which again was placed a covering of loose soil.

Whilst waiting for the food to cook, Tom and the others made their way through the forest to the nearest point overlooking the sea. The sky was grey and sullen, and the sea, a mile or so out, presented an appalling aspect; immediately under the lee of the island it was not so bad, though every now and then great billows would come rolling in to the very mouth of the creek, as Bill had foretold. Fotuna Island, although the nearest point, and but eight miles distant, was quite obscured from view, for, in addition to the salty spume which filled the air, there was a sharp, driving rain.

'Bill,' said Tom, 'where should we be now if we had kept on in the boat?'

Bill shook his head. 'We could only have done two things--either let her run before it, and most likely broach to and capsize, or put out a sea-anchor and tried to ride it out that way; but whatever we did we would have been carried away to the westward, and there's no land that way, except the New Hebrides--a matter of more than a thousand miles. I can tell you, sir, that it's lucky for us we left the Leonie without any water. If we had had water in the boat, I should have kept on.'

Returning to the camp before darkness set in, the oven was opened, and the three made another hearty meal by the light of a blazing fire. The two piglets were partially freed by being tethered with a bit of spun yarn to a hind leg. The boat was seen to, and then, spreading out the sail on the ground inside the hut, Tom and his comrades lay down and slept, undisturbed by the clamour of the sea and the moaning of the wind.