In the Eastern Seas

by William Henry Giles Kingston

It was some time, however, after we had gone to our room, before we could again go to sleep. It seemed to me that we had scarcely been asleep many minutes before we felt another shock, very nearly as violent as the first. We again started up, and my uncle’s voice was once more heard, urging us all to remain quiet, and not expose ourselves to the damp night air. This time we obeyed him, though the Frau sitting up wrung her hands, wishing herself in some region where earthquakes were not experienced, and burning mountains were not to be seen. Neither Grace nor I could sleep for the remainder of the night; and I found that Oliver had been kept awake.

The next morning, when we met at breakfast, we looked somewhat pale, I suspect. My uncle was inclined to banter us, and told us that we should not mind such things, as he had felt several since he had been on the island, and no harm had come from them. I saw him, however, soon after that looking somewhat anxiously, I thought, up at the mountain, from which wreaths of smoke were ascending somewhat thicker than usual; and I heard him urging Mr Thudicumb to hasten on with the vessel. “Tanda and I will prepare stores as fast as we can,” he observed. The ship-builders hurried off with their tools, but he and Tanda and Oliver remained behind. They afterwards set off to what we call Cocoa-nut Grove, as a large number of cocoa-nuts grow there. Tanda led one of the buffaloes with huge panniers on his back. After a time they returned, having procured a number of cocoa-nuts. They were very different from the cocoa-nuts we had been some time before eating, far more like those I had been accustomed to see in England. When the nut is young the shell is soft, and of a pale green colour. It shortly afterwards, when the shell is formed, turns to a light yellow, and on the other side is a thin layer of so soft a consistency, that it can easily be cut with a spoon. In this condition it is always eaten by the natives. When it grows older, the outside assumes a wood colour. The husk becomes dry, and the hard shell is surrounded within by a thick, tough oily substance, and, indeed, just as we see it in England. The natives look upon it in this condition as very indigestible, and seldom eat it. It is of value, however, for the oil which it now contains. Such were the nuts which Tanda brought to the house. We all set to work to break the nuts and to scrape out the interior substance with knives. When this was done, it was put into a large pan and boiled over the fire. After a time the oil was separated from the pulp, and floated on the top. We then, under my uncle’s directions, skimmed it off, and poured it into bowls and bottles. It was now fit for use—a very sweet, pure oil. As our pan was not very large, it took some time to make a quantity. We wanted some for present use, but the chief object was to have a supply for our lamps on board the vessel. This oil, my uncle said, is generally used throughout the archipelago for lamps; indeed, it is almost the only substance used for lighting.

We were so busily employed during the day, that we almost forgot all about the earthquake. There was one thing, however, we did not forget; for, in spite of occupation, my thoughts were constantly recurring to Walter. As soon as our work was over, we ran down to the beach, accompanied by Oliver, who carried his gun for our defence, lest another mias might appear. In vain we scanned the horizon. No sail appeared, no object which we could even mistake for the boat, and with sad hearts we returned to the house. The sun had just set. As we were coming along the path to the house, we saw some large creatures moving about in the air with a peculiar motion unlike birds. Going a little way we saw two more, and then another couple appeared. Oliver raised his gun and fired, when down fell a huge creature which looked like a quadruped with wings. Though unable to fly, it began to defend itself bravely, and Oliver had to give it several severe blows before he could venture to touch it. “It will be a prize to Mr Sedgwick, whatever it is,” he observed, fastening a line round the animal’s neck. He dragged it up to the house, and when we brought it up to the light we found that it was a huge bat. The Frau, when she saw it, declared that it was a flying-fox. Mr Sedgwick, however, said it was really a bat, and when he measured it he found that is was four feet six inches from tip to tip of its wings. Oliver said it looked quite like an antediluvian animal. Mr Hooker said he had often seen them; that one day he found one hanging to the bough of a tree with its head downwards. He fired several shots before the creature would release its crooked claws from the bough to which it held. Tanda proposed skinning and cooking it, saying it was good to eat. However, Grace and I begged that we might not be asked to sup upon it, as the appearance of the animal was far from tempting. Mr Hooker called the creature Oliver had shot a Pteropus.

Although, through the industry of my uncle and Tanda, we were well supplied with vegetable food, we were greatly in want of meat. He therefore invited Oliver to accompany him on an expedition to shoot wild ducks on a lagoon at some distance. He advised us, during their absence, to keep within sight of the house, or at all events not to go far from it. Ursula begged that Merlin should remain with us.

“Yes, yes,” said my uncle: “he might act as a retriever for us; at the same time, I dare say, we can do without him, and he will serve as your guard, and a very faithful one he seems to be.”

I do not know why, but I felt rather anxious about my uncle and Oliver when they set out. I could not help thinking of the serpents and wild beasts they might encounter. They were going also to a district where crocodiles abounded. I was more anxious because they despised the crocodiles, and said they were stupid creatures, and would never hurt any one who was on his guard; and that only animals when very thirsty and drinking, or people incautiously bathing, were ever caught. As soon as they were gone, we set to work with our various duties in the house. I have not described them, but we had plenty to do, and wished to employ ourselves usefully. After that, Grace and I agreed to go down to the beach in the vain hope—I am almost compelled to acknowledge that it is so—that Walter might be returning. I can now understand how those who have lost some dear one at sea go to the shore day after day and month after month, hoping against hope, that they might return. When I am away from the beach, I am constantly wishing to return to it, and often in the house I look down the pathway leading to the shore, fancying that possibly I might see Walter coming up it. Oh, what joy it would be to my heart! My dear, dear brother!—the only person in the world nearly related to me, whom I know well and love thoroughly. Our uncle is very kind, but I as yet do not know him well, and he is odd in some things. Oliver truly acts the part of a brother, and I am sure loves me as a sister, and I value his regard. Merlin seemed also to watch the horizon as anxiously as we did. I am sure he knows that Walter is away, and is also looking for him.

We watched and watched, till the sun, sinking low in the horizon, warned us that we must go back and prepare supper for our friends. The ship-builders would soon be coming back, and we hoped that my uncle and Oliver would also be coming home. Again we cast one lingering look towards the horizon, but there was no break in its clear, well-marked line. We found the Frau somewhat anxious about us. “I do always think of that horrid mias, for though Merlin would fight for you, yet the creature would kill the dog with one grip of his big hands,” she observed. We had got the table spread, and the Frau was putting some dishes on it, when Mr Hooker and the rest arrived from Hope Harbour. They had seen nothing of my uncle and Oliver. Why had they not come back? I remembered my forebodings in the morning, and again began to fear that some accident had happened to them. Mr Hooker, however, said he thought they would have been led, by their anxiety to obtain game, further than they intended; and as all the party were very hungry, they commenced supper without waiting for them. Grace and I sat down, but could eat nothing. Oliver had scarcely recovered his strength, and I was afraid that he might have been seized with the same sort of attack as he was a short time ago. It grew darker and darker, and very rapidly night came down upon us. Still no sign of the missing ones. Mr Tarbox proposed going out to search for them with torches. Roger Trew and Potto Jumbo agreed to accompany him. A supply of dammar torches was soon manufactured, and each carrying a bundle on his back, with one in one hand and a gun in the other, they sallied forth. As long as they could find their way, there would be less danger moving through the forest at night with torches than in the day-time, as savage beasts and snakes avoid the light, and only harmless moths and bats fly against it. In my eagerness I should have liked to have gone with them, but they would not hear of it. Merlin, however, having performed his duty in watching over us, when he saw them going out, quickly followed, and of course he was likely to be of use in searching for the lost ones. Mr Hooker and the mate were not so strong as they were before their illness, and were therefore easily persuaded to stay behind. They tried to keep up my spirits, and reminded me that my uncle was so well acquainted with the country, that he was not likely to have got into any danger himself, or to have allowed his companions to do so.

Often Grace and I ran out to the verandah to watch for them, hoping to see the bright light of the torches re-appearing along the path. How my heart bounded when at length I heard a shout and saw a gleam of light in the distance! It grew brighter and brighter, and then I could make out several people carrying torches. I tried to count them. I saw three, and then a fourth figure. There ought to have been six. I could distinguish my uncle from his tall figure and peculiar dress. Then it seemed to me as if they were carrying something between them. In vain I looked for Oliver, whom I should have known by his being shorter than the rest. We ran down the steps to welcome them, and inquired what had happened.

“Don’t be alarmed, Miss Emily,” I heard Roger Trew, who came first, exclaim. “Your uncle is all right, but Oliver—” Oh, how my heart sank. “Well, he has been somewhat hurt. He will come round, though; don’t be afraid, miss. Poor Tanda, it has been a bad job for him.”

Before I could make any more inquiries, the rest of the party, who bore Oliver among them, arrived, and he was carried up the steps. I ran to his side. He could speak but faintly. My uncle seemed very much out of spirits, as his faithful Tanda had lost his life.