The Island Home

by Richard Archer

Eiulo, even before the discovery of the hat, had believed that we were upon the same island which his father had visited, as above related, and from which the whites had afterwards come. He was confident that by sailing northward, with a fair wind, we should reach Tewa in less than a day. Though generally cheerful, and overflowing with boyish spirits, there were times when it was apparent that he pined for his home; and, though he never directly urged it, he earnestly wished to have us make the attempt to reach his father’s island in the yawl.

At length I began to suspect, from the constant and minute inquiries which Arthur made in relation to Tewa, and its people, their usages, habits, etcetera, that he was thinking seriously of some such attempt. He directed his inquiries particularly to the point whether the island was ever visited by ships. Eiulo remembered hearing his father speak of big canoes, without any outriggers, and whose masts were as high as a cocoa-nut-tree, having passed in sight of the island. He had heard, too, that a long while ago, one of these great vessels had got aground, upon a reef between Tewa and the adjacent island, and that the natives had gone off to her in their canoes, and some of them had ventured on board at the invitation of the strangers. Old Wakatta was one of these, and he had received a wonderful present from the white chief, which he had often exhibited to Eiulo, and which, from his description of it, appeared to be neither more nor less than a small looking-glass. The great canoe had, by throwing overboard a part of her cargo, got off from the reef at the rising of the tide, and resumed her voyage. It was pretty evident that the arrival of a European vessel at the islands, was an event of very rare occurrence, and in all probability the result of mere accident. Except that he steadily pursued inquiries of this kind, Arthur said nothing to show that he entertained the thought of such an undertaking as I suspected him to be revolving. Browne and Morton both had exaggerated notions of the cruelty and treachery of the “heathen native;” as the former called them, and would, I had no doubt, be strongly averse to any step calculated to place us in their power, unless it should also, in some way, increase our prospects of ultimately getting home.

For several days after the occurrences narrated in the last chapter, we remained at Castle-hill, making little excursions daily in various directions. Having now discovered a supply of fresh water, and abundant means of subsistence, it seemed as though there was at present nothing further for us to do, except to assist Arthur, as far as we could; in his preparations for manufacturing tappa. The weather was so genial, (except during the middle of the day, when the heat was frequently intolerable), that we felt no want of any other shelter than such as the grove afforded us. Generally, towards evening, a refreshing breeze set in from the sea, and lasted several hours. We experienced no bad effects from sleeping in the open air, and far from finding it a hardship, we soon came to consider it every way more pleasant, than to be cribbed and cabined within four close walls. There was something delightful, in dropping off into dreamland, listening to the whispering of the leaves above you, and catching glimpses through them, of a sky so deliciously blue, and stars so wonderfully bright. It seemed as though in this favoured spot, the fable of a perpetual summer was to be realised, and the whole circle of the year was to be crowned with the same freshness and verdure and beauty, the same profusion of fruits and flowers, which we had thus far enjoyed. But such expectations, if any of us were beguiled into entertaining them, were destined to be rudely dissipated. One hot afternoon, we were startled from a drowsy siesta in the grove, by a peal of thunder, such as is rarely heard in temperate climates, and on springing up and looking about us, we beheld above and around us, certain indications, which it would have been far more interesting and agreeable to contemplate from beneath the shelter of a snug and comfortable dwelling. The wind moaned through the bending tree-tops; the face of the heavens was black as night, and the waters of the lagoon, and of the ocean, had darkened to a steely blue beneath their frown. Before we had fairly shaken off our drowsiness, another abrupt peal of thunder burst overhead, with a suddenness that seemed to jar the very clouds and shake the water out of them, for the rain began all at once to come down violently, in big drops, that rattled like hailstones upon the crisp leaves of the forest. The thunder appeared to have completed its office in giving the signal for the clouds to discharge their contents, and we heard it no more. For a time, the dense foliage of the large tree under which we gathered, completely sheltered us; but soon the moisture began to drip slowly from the lower leaves, and occasionally fell in sudden showers, as the branches were shaken by the wind.

At length, the ground became thoroughly saturated, shallow puddles formed in every little hollow or depression, and there was the prospect of a most miserable night if the storm should continue. Happily, this did not prove to be the case; in about an hour after we had been aroused by the first thunder peal, the clouds dispersed almost as suddenly as they had gathered; the sun shone forth brightly; the trees and the grass sparkled with raindrops, lustrous as diamonds, and the whole landscape smiled in fresher beauty than ever.

This little occurrence, however, served as a seasonable hint to recall to our minds the importance of contriving some kind of a dwelling to afford us shelter in bad weather, and we resolved to lose no time in setting about it. Accordingly, the day following that of the thunder shower, as soon as we had returned from the beach, after taking our regular morning swim, Arthur called a council, to deliberate and determine upon the matter of house-building. The first thing was to fix upon a site; the only objection to the level space at the top of the hill, was its elevated position, exposing it to the full force of the violent winds which prevail at certain periods of the tropical year. But on that side from which the strongest winds blow, the spot was protected by still higher land towards the interior, and the fine trees of various kinds and sizes, (some of them evidently the growth of many years), among which could be seen no prostrate trunks, showed, as we thought, that nothing was to be feared from that source.

We, therefore, selected a smooth, open space, near the edge of the terrace, commanding a view of the sea, through a vista of noble trees. Max insisted, that, inasmuch as with our limited architectural resources we could not make our house of more than one storey, we ought to build in “cottage style,” and make up for deficiency in height, by spreading over a large surface. He then proceeded to mark out a ground-plan, upon a scale that would have been shockingly extravagant, had we been in a part of the world where the price of building-lots was to be taken into consideration. A parallelogram, nearly forty feet long by twenty-five in width, the narrower side fronting the sea, was the plan of the main building. This was to be flanked by two wings, each some sixteen feet square, which would serve to strengthen and support the principal structure. “Upon this model,” Max complacently observed, “he intended one of these days to build his country-seat, near Mount Merino, on the Hudson: meantime, we were welcome to the benefit of the idea.”

“Really, we’re greatly obliged to you, Max,” said Browne, “for helping us so generously through with the most difficult part of the business. All that we now want in order to finish it at once, is merely a few loads of joist, plank, pine-boards, shingles, and window-sash; a supply of nails, a set of carpenter’s tools, and a couple of carpenters to use them.”

“Of course,” rejoined Max, “we shall want a supply of building materials, tools, etcetera, and I am expecting them along daily. We have now been here several weeks, and it is quite time, in the natural and regular course of things, and according to the uniform experience of people situated as we are, for a ship heavily laden, (say in our case), with lumber and hardware, to be driven upon our shores in the midst of a terrible storm, (yesterday when it began to thunder I thought it was at hand). The ship will come driving upon the reef—the crew will take to the boats, but no boat can live in such a sea, and notwithstanding our humane and daring efforts to assist them, all perish among the breakers—that is to say, all except the carpenter—whom I rescue, by plunging into the raging flood and dragging him ashore by the hair, just as he is about sinking for the third time.”

“Nobly done!” said Browne, “but couldn’t you at the same time manage to save a drowning washerwoman? she would be as great an acquisition as the carpenter, in my mind.”

“At length,” resumed Max, “the storm abates—the sea becomes smooth—we go out in the yawl to the stranded vessel, where she lies upon a coral patch, and bring off, in two boat loads, the carpenter’s chest, a keg of gunpowder, a blunderbuss, seven muskets, fourteen pairs of pistols, and a bag of doubloons, (think of that, Johnny!) That very night the wind rises again: the surf breaks the wreck to pieces, and washes the fragments ashore, and in the morning the sea is strewn far and wide with floating spars, and bales, and barrels; and the reef is covered for miles with ‘joist, plank, pine-boards, shingles, window-sash,’ and whatever other trifling conveniences are requisite for building my cottage. This is what Johnny and I confidently calculate upon.”