Our plates, I should have said, were flat shells; while our cups were made of bamboo, as were our knives and forks.
“I must introduce you to my menagerie to-morrow morning,” observed my uncle. “There is not time to-night—indeed, some of my pets have retired to their lairs or gone to roost. If you hear strange noises at night, don’t be alarmed; as possibly some of them may be inclined to utter their natural cries during the night.”
Our conversation was altogether very lively; as we, of course, had a great deal to tell our uncle, and were also greatly interested by the account he gave of his expeditions, and the way in which he had lived on the island since he had been deserted. Sometimes he had thought of building a vessel and making his way to some civilised port; but the want of proper tools for cutting down large timber, and his ignorance of nautical affairs, deterred him.
“I thought it was as well to leave well alone,” he said. “I have here plenty of provisions; and I thought I could study natural history, which brought me here; and that, some time or other, some vessel would call and take me away. Had you, Walter and Emily, not come, however, I rather think my heart would have failed me even at the last moment, and I could scarcely have made up my mind to quit my solitary home and the style of life to which I have become accustomed.”
Our conversation was at length interrupted by a loud rattling peal of thunder, which crashed over our heads as if the whole heavens above them were rent in two. A blast swept over the forest, and we could hear the trees cracking as they bent before the wind. The house shook to its very foundation, and Emily and Grace trembled with alarm.
“No, no, my dears; don’t fear,” exclaimed Frau Ursula. “This is nothing to what I have heard in Ternate. There, one night, all the houses tumbled down, and the mountain sent up stones and cinders, which came rattling down on our heads.”
“There is another, though!” exclaimed Grace, clinging to the old lady’s arm.
Scarcely had the second crash of thunder passed away, than down came the rain, pattering on the roof and floor of the verandah. It seemed as if a waterspout had broken over us.
“I am thankful that you, my friends, are on shore,” observed my uncle; “but the brig—I feel anxious about her.” He got up, and put on a thick reed-made coat. “And here are some more,” he observed, giving Oliver and me one. “But no, Oliver, you stay with the ladies; and you too, Walter.”
I entreated that I might accompany him. He gave Roger Trew a similar covering, which completely sheltered us from the rain; and leaving Tanda and Oliver in charge of the house, we hurried away towards the shore. Although the gale had been blowing but a few minutes, already heavy seas came rolling in and breaking in masses of foam upon the rocks. We could see the brig, through the thickening gloom, at her anchors.