My First Voyage to Southern Seas

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“I trust you are right, but wait a few hours; the effects are not likely to be immediate,” answered the doctor gravely. He told me at the same time to boil some salt water, and to heat several large flat stones—the only remedies he could think of in his power to apply, should the fish prove poisonous.

Finding that none of us would eat any of the fish, Sills returned to Brown and sat smoking and talking for an hour or more. Some hours had passed after they had eaten the fish, when we saw Sills approaching the hut looking dreadfully ill, and scarcely able to crawl along.

“O doctor, doctor, I am dying—I know I am. I wish that I had done as you told me,” he exclaimed in a feeble voice. “There is Brown, he is still worse; he ate more than I did, and was unable to come here.”

On hearing this we dosed the poor fellow with hot salt water, and put the hot bricks to his stomach and feet, and then Tom and I ran on with our remedies and applied them to Brown, whom we found in dreadful pain, and looking as if he wag dying. I believe both of them would have died had not the salt water made them very sick, while the hot stones restored their suspended circulation. Still, I would advise no one to depend on such remedies under similar circumstances. They got better; but still for many days were subject to racking pains, and remained weak and ill. While they were in this state, one morning, as Tom and I were at the top of the peak taking our usual survey of the horizon, in the hopes of a vessel appearing in sight, we saw a white speck to the westward, the rays of the sun glancing brightly on it as it rose above the blue sea. At first I thought that it was a sea-fowl flying between us and the horizon; but, after a more steady look, I shouted—“A sail! a sail!” There could be no doubt about it, but still I remembered that it might not come near us. However, I watched and watched anxiously, and it rose higher and higher above the horizon, and was evidently gliding on towards the island. When I had ascertained this to a certainty, I ran down with the good news to the doctor, for I thought that it would raise his spirits. He had been much depressed and rather worse, I feared, lately.

“She may touch here and relieve us, but we must not be too sanguine,” he replied, with a faint smile. “I have ceased to hope for any improvement in my health or strength, and doubt if I should even survive a voyage.”

By this remark I guessed how ill the doctor thought himself. I hoped, however, that from being out of spirits he might fancy himself even worse than he was. Again Tom and I went up to the peak. I was surprised to find how fast the stranger had come on. I made out that she was a large square topsail schooner. On she stood, making directly, and evidently purposely, for the island.

“Could it be possible that Mr Henley or any of the crew of the Orion have escaped and given information of our being left on the island?” I thought to myself.

With this feeling we could not help regarding the stranger as a friend. We waited, watching her till she got quite close, then heaving to, to leeward of the island, a boat was lowered from her side. On seeing this we ran down to the beach to welcome those coming on shore. They clearly knew the place, for they made directly for the opening in the reef. As I looked through my glass at them, they appeared to be a very rough set, exhibiting various coloured specimens of the race of man. I did in no way like their looks. As soon as the boat touched the beach they jumped out, and seemed very much surprised at seeing Tom and me. Much greater was mine, on regarding attentively the officer of the boat, to discover that he was no other than the pretended cobbler who had been a passenger on board the Orion, Any doubt I might have had was put to flight by seeing Solon run up to him and bark, as much as to say, “I have seen you before;” then he turned round and growled at two other men of the crew. This drew my attention towards them, and I soon recognised Cobb and Clink, two of the chief mutineers on board the ill-fated ship. They, of course, at once recognised us, and Mr Barwell, or, as I found his people call him, Captain Hansleig, began to make inquiries about her. When I told him of the fate which had overtaken her, his reply was—

“I thought so. A drunken captain and mate are pretty certain to lose their ship before long; my only surprise is that she got as far as this.”

As we walked along to the huts, he told me what a fine craft he had got, and how successful he had been, but he did not say how she was employed. In the meantime the men who followed us had been talking to Tommy in the same strain. Sills and Brown were evidently well pleased at seeing them, and at once asked Captain Hansleig if he would take them off the island. This he said at once that he would do, if they chose to enter on board his craft, but that he could not undertake to carry passengers. They without hesitation accepted his offer, saying that they liked the look of his craft, and the roving commission which he had told them he held. The doctor received them very coldly, and seemed in no way pleased at their appearance. He seized the first moment that they were out of hearing to warn me against them.