In the Eastern Seas

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Our uncle said he would consult Mr Thudicumb; but he thought it would take a considerable time to build a raft of sufficient size, and that the time might be better employed in getting on with the vessel. They therefore, it appears, have determined to proceed with that.

“But our collections—our cases—what shall we do with them?” said Mr Hooker.

“Well, my dear Hooker,” answered my uncle, “though I would willingly risk my own life for the sake of attempting to save them, yet I feel we ought not to imperil the lives of these young people or the others with us. It is sad enough to have lost young Walter, and I am afraid he is lost. That fellow Ali is a genuine Malay; had he been a Dyak, I should have had more confidence, although he might have been a heathen, or a head hunter, or a cannibal to boot. But those Malays, half Mohammedan and half idolaters, are very untrustworthy.”

Oh, how my heart sank when I heard these words. I wish that I had not been compelled to listen to them; it shows too clearly what they think. Oliver, though suffering himself, tries to console me. He tells me that I must trust in God, and go on trusting, whatever happens; that I must not suppose, even though Walter should be lost, that we have been deserted by God; and that we may depend upon it, that he has allowed it to happen for the best: at the same time, that he may have many ways of preserving Walter, however great the dangers he may have to go through, and of restoring him to us. Poor Frau Ursula, after she has been looking at the mountain, wrings her hands, and wishes that she had never come to this island. She left Ternate for fear of the burning mountain there, and now she finds herself in a similar position of danger. However, to do her justice, she tries to wear a smiling countenance when she speaks to Grace and me. We are left almost alone at the house, as the rest of the party are assisting at ship-building. Tanda only comes occasionally to feed the animals, and to bring us fruit and vegetables from the garden. We volunteered to go and assist also, as we could at all events carry the wood, and hold the planks while the others were nailing them on; but though they thanked us, they said there were enough hands employed. I believe, however, that only two or three are good workmen, and I suppose that we should be in the way.

Two more anxious days have passed by, and dear, dear Walter has not come back. We go down constantly to the sea-shore to watch for his boat, but it does not appear. I took Mr Hooker’s spy-glass, and Grace and I spent many hours on Flagstaff Rock, looking out over the ocean. First I took the glass, then she took it; and so we continued, as if looking would bring him back, till our eyes ached with gazing on the shining water: indeed, Ursula says we must not do it again, or we might bring on blindness, which would be very dreadful. If it were not for Oliver I think we should break down altogether, but he has such a calm, pious, hopeful spirit. He assures me, and I know he speaks the truth, that he yet hopes that Walter will return, or, at all events, that he has not lost his life, and that we may find him some day or other. He has persuaded our uncle to let him read the Bible to the party before they go out to work, and he does so now every morning; and then he offers up a beautiful prayer for our safety, and returns thanks for the care with which we have hitherto been watched over by our merciful God.

Again to-day we wished to go to the rock, when Ursula took the spy-glass from my hands, and said that we might go, but that we must not take it with us; that it could not help Walter to come back, and that we should see him without it as well as with it. We had been sitting there for some time when Oliver joined us. He said that my uncle had sent him to attend upon us, as he thought we ought not to be left to brood over our anxiety by ourselves. Merlin accompanied him; and he says that in future we must not go without Merlin. I suspect that there was some other reason, because Oliver came with a gun. Perhaps some wild beasts may have been seen lurking about in the neighbourhood, and they are afraid the creatures may find us out. Oliver brought a book in his pocket, which he took out and read to us. He reads beautifully, with a gentle, yet clear musical voice. His mother taught him, and he says that she is a well-educated woman, and a very excellent reader. It is a valuable gift—for I think it is a gift, although it is one which may be greatly improved by study and practice. Two or three times I stopped him, however, for I thought I saw an object in the distance which I took to be a boat. Oh, how my heart beat! But when Oliver looked—and his eyes are keener than mine—he assured me that there was nothing, and that it must have been fancy. Again and again I deceived myself in the same way, and so did Grace. Once I felt sure that I saw a boat—she said she saw something too; but we waited and waited, and Oliver read on, and yet the object, if object there was, did not approach nearer. Again I declared I saw a boat. Oliver looked up, and shading his eyes, gazed in the direction in which I pointed.

“You are mistaken, Miss Emily,” he answered quietly. “I wish you were not. You caught sight of a mass of sea-weed, and your imagination made it appear to your sight what it is not.”

Saying this, he again sat down, and continued reading. Tanda had manufactured some large parasols of palm-leaves, which sheltered us from the sun, or we could not have sat out on the rocks. Oliver had come without one of these, and we thoughtlessly allowed him to sit on with the hot sun burning down on his back. On a sudden, as I was looking at him I saw him turn very pale, and before I could spring to his side to support him, he sunk fainting on the rock. Only then I thought of the cause of his illness, and, holding up his head, placed the parasol above him, while Grace ran down with his hat, and brought it up full of water. The sea-water, however, was very warm. Though we sprinkled his face with it, it did but little to revive him. Oh, what would I not have given for some cold fresh water to pour down his throat! As I leaned over him I was afraid that he would not revive; he looked so deadly pale, and scarcely breathed. I entreated Grace to run to the house, and bring the Frau, with a shell of fresh water; and I thought that perhaps together we might carry Oliver back. Grace set off, followed by Merlin, who evidently seemed to understand that something had to be done. Oh, how anxious I felt for poor Oliver. I am sure that I would have given my own life to save his. He was dear Walter’s friend. I am sure Walter loved him as a brother; indeed, he is well worthy of such regard. No one also could be more attached to us. I took my bonnet and fanned his cheek with one hand, while I held the palm-formed parasol over his head with the other. Still he did not revive. I dreaded lest he should have received a sun-stroke, which I knew to be a very dangerous thing. It was very, very thoughtless of us to allow him thus to be exposed, but we had been so accustomed to see everybody out in the hot sun that we did not think about it, and used our parasols more for the sake of preventing our faces being burned than from any fear of danger.

How anxiously I awaited the return of Grace and Ursula! Every now and then I looked up, hoping to see them, but of course I had to watch Oliver, in the hope that he might begin to revive. I could not help occasionally, too, glancing seaward in search of Walter’s boat. I thought I saw a slight movement in Oliver’s eyes. I was gazing down upon his face when I heard a strange noise coming from the forest. I looked up, but could see nothing. I thought I must have been mistaken. Again the sounds reached my ears, and then, turning my eyes in the direction whence they came, I saw, appearing among the boughs of a tall tree, a hideous countenance. I had not forgotten the appearance of the monster we had seen at the lake. A second look convinced me that it was the face of a huge orang-outan. I trembled lest he should discover Oliver and me. He was at some distance, however, and evidently employed in eating fruit, as I saw a shower of husks and leaves falling down beneath him to the ground. Still I could not help dreading that his eyes were fixed on us. If he were alone, I hoped that there was less danger; but if accompanied by his wife and young ones, I knew that there was great risk, should he see us, of his attacking us, lest we might hurt them. Though anxious to watch Oliver, I could scarcely withdraw my eyes from the hideous monster, who, as he moved along the bough, now appeared full in sight. The sounds made me dread, too, that he was not alone; and presently I saw on another bough a smaller creature, and then, what I dreaded much, another large one among the boughs on the same tree. Still, as long as they remained on the boughs, I knew I had less reason to dread danger.

How long Ursula and Grace seemed in coming! I fancied they would have been with me in a much shorter time. At last I caught sight of Grace running along the shore round a point of rock, and when she saw me she signed that Ursula was following. A new alarm now seized me lest the orang-outan should see her as she passed by, and descend the tree in chase. I thought of Oliver’s gun, which lay near; but though I knew how to fire, I had never taken aim at an object, and I had little hope of shooting the mias. I was afraid, too, of crying out, lest that might also attract him; indeed, had I done so, Grace would probably not have known what to do, and was very likely to be pursued. I watched the tree with greater anxiety even than before, but the mias continued busily employed in plucking fruit and handing it to the young one; as I supposed, teaching him how to open it, and take the best parts. My heart beat as if it would break, so anxious did I become. Oh, how thankful I felt when Grace at length reached me with the shell of water.