In the Eastern Seas

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“I am afraid you are right, Mr Walter,” he answered. “At all events, it is satisfactory to know that we can procure salt for our daily use.”

“Oliver,” I said, “I must ask a favour of you—it is, not to call me Mr Walter. A common misfortune has made us brothers, and as a brother, I am sure, I shall ever look upon you.”

“I will do what you wish,” said Oliver, “for I owe my life to you; yet, though I regard you as a brother, I do not feel myself your equal.”

“Do not talk of that, my dear fellow,” I said. “We will not bandy compliments. I should have been very miserable had I been left on this island by myself, or even with so honest a fellow as our dark-skinned friend here; for though we two might have been like Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday, I have often thought that Crusoe must have passed many dull and melancholy hours, without a companion with whom he could exchange ideas on equal terms.”

I felt much more at my ease after I had said this to Oliver. I had long looked upon him as a very superior lad. His earnest piety, his courage and his coolness, had made me greatly respect him. Had I been told to choose a companion in the situation in which I was placed, I certainly should have selected him. Our meal over, we went back to our sago-tree, and commenced our work. We made some progress, but still clasp-knives were very inadequate tools for the work we had undertaken. Every now and then, as we were labouring on silently, we heard the same cry of Wawk—wawk—wawk!—Wok—wok—wok! and caught sight of magnificent birds flitting among the higher branches of the trees, but so rapidly did they move, that we could scarcely distinguish their forms. We knew them, however, to be birds of paradise, which Mr Hooker had fully described to us. I knew from this that we must be on an island very close to the shores of New Guinea, as Mr Hooker had told me these birds are only found in that vast country, or in the surrounding islands. When Europeans first arrived at the Moluccas to obtain cloves and nutmegs, which were then supposed to be rare, and considered of great value, they saw, in the possession of the natives, dried skins of birds of beautiful plumage and unusual shape. On inquiring their name, they were told that they were God’s birds. As the bodies shown them had neither feet nor wings, they easily believed the story they heard, that they had fallen from the sun, and the Portuguese therefore called them birds of the sun. The Dutch, who came afterwards, gave them the name of birds of paradise. One of their early writers declared that no one had ever seen them alive, that they existed only in the air, invariably keeping their heads towards the sun, and never reaching earth till they died. Even as late as 1760 they were supposed to have no feet, and Linnaeus calls them footless birds of paradise. Another account says that they come to some of the spice islands of the East to eat nutmegs, which so intoxicate them, that they fall down senseless, and are then killed. Mr Hooker, however, assured me that they were found only in New Guinea, and in a few groups of islands in its immediate neighbourhood. There is a considerable number of species of this bird, all of which have a magnificent plumage. They are of moderate size, and are allied in their habits and structure to crows, starlings, and to the Australian honey-suckers. I longed to get some of these beautiful birds; but at present we had too much important work on which our existence might depend to allow me to make an attempt to obtain them.

We laboured on till the sun nearly reached the horizon, and then hurried back to our hut. As may be supposed, as we passed along the shore we took an anxious look-out in every direction to ascertain if any sail was in sight; but the distant horizon still remained unbroken, as it had been since the prow which had brought us to the island had disappeared across it.

I was still unwilling to attack the mollusc; but Macco, cutting off some slices, toasted them before the fire, and declared them very good. I preferred supping on the remainder of the turtle’s eggs, as did Oliver. He, however, tried a bit of the mollusc, but agreed that, unless more perfectly cooked, it was likely to prove very indigestible. Having finished our repast, we crept into our hut. I should have said we had strewn it thickly with leaves to serve as a mattress. The nights were warm, and as there was no wind, we required no covering beyond that afforded us by the roof. We agreed, however, that as soon as we could manufacture some sago, we would build a more substantial mansion, in which we might be able to live should the rains come on.

I cannot describe the incidents of each day; for having no note-book, they are somewhat mixed up in my memory. For two days we laboured on at the tree, and had now begun to make some progress. I became somewhat eager at length, and hacked away incautiously with my knife. In so doing, I caught it in the wood; and in drawing it out again, snapped the blade across. Here was indeed a misfortune.

“O Massa Walter,” exclaimed Macco, “dat bad!”

“It is indeed,” I said; “for though you and Oliver may in time get through the trunk with your knives, it will certainly take much longer.”