The Coral Island - Robert Michael Ballantyne (little readers txt) 📗

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broken coral formations, which Jack and I agreed proved either that

this island must have once been under the sea, or that the sea must

once have been above the island. In other words, that as shells

and coral could not possibly climb to the mountain top, they must

have been washed upon it while the mountain top was on a level with

the sea. We pondered this very much; and we put to ourselves the

question, “What raised the island to its present height above the

sea?” But to this we could by no means give to ourselves a

satisfactory reply. Jack thought it might have been blown up by a

volcano; and Peterkin said he thought it must have jumped up of its

own accord! We also noticed, what had escaped us before, that the

solid rocks of which the island was formed were quite different

from the live coral rocks on the shore, where the wonderful little

insects were continually working. They seemed, indeed, to be of

the sauce material, - a substance like limestone; but, while the

coral rocks were quite full of minute cells in which the insects

lived, the other rocks inland were hard and solid, without the

appearance of cells at all. Our thoughts and conversations on this

subject were sometimes so profound that Peterkin said we should

certainly get drowned in them at last, even although we were such

good divers! Nevertheless we did not allow his pleasantry on this

and similar points to deter us from making our notes and

observations as we went along.

 

We found several more droves of hogs in the woods, but abstained

from killing any of them, having more than sufficient for our

present necessities. We saw also many of their footprints in this

neighbourhood. Among these we also observed the footprints of a

smaller animal, which we examined with much care, but could form no

certain opinion as to them. Peterkin thought they were those of a

little dog, but Jack and I thought differently. We became very

curious on this matter, the more so that we observed these footprints to lie scattered about in one locality, as if the animal

which had made them was wandering round about in a very irregular

manner, and without any object in view. Early in the forenoon of

our third day we observed these footprints to be much more numerous

than ever, and in one particular spot they diverged off into the

woods in a regular beaten track, which was, however, so closely

beset with bushes, that we pushed through it with difficulty. We

had now become so anxious to find out what animal this was, and

where it went to, that we determined to follow the track, and, if

possible, clear up the mystery. Peterkin said, in a bantering

tone, that he was sure it would be cleared up as usual in some

frightfully simple way, and prove to be no mystery at all!

 

The beaten track seemed much too large to have been formed by the

animal itself, and we concluded that some larger animal had made

it, and that the smaller one made use of it. But everywhere the

creeping plants and tangled bushes crossed our path, so that we

forced our way along with some difficulty. Suddenly, as we came

upon an open space, we heard a faint cry, and observed a black

animal standing in the track before us.

 

“A wild-cat!” cried Jack, fitting an arrow to his bow, and

discharging it so hastily that he missed the animal, and hit the

earth about half a foot to one side of it. To our surprise the

wild-cat did not fly, but walked slowly towards the arrow, and

snuffed at it.

 

“That’s the most comical wild-cat I ever saw!” cried Jack.

 

“It’s a tame wild-cat, I think,” said Peterkin, levelling his spear

to make a charge.

 

“Stop!” cried I, laying my hand on his shoulder; “I do believe the

poor beast is blind. See, it strikes against the branches as it

walks along. It must be a very old one;” and I hastened towards

it.

 

“Only think,” said Peterkin, with a suppressed laugh, “of a

superannuated wild-cat!”

 

We now found that the poor cat was not only blind, or nearly so,

but extremely deaf, as it did not hear our footsteps until we were

quite close behind it. Then it sprang round, and, putting up its

back and tail, while the black hair stood all on end, uttered a

hoarse mew and a fuff.

 

“Poor thing,” said Peterkin, gently extending his hand, and

endeavouring to pat the cat’s head. “Poor pussy; chee, chee, chee;

puss, puss, puss; cheetie pussy!”

 

No sooner did the cat hear these sounds than all signs of anger

fled, and, advancing eagerly to Peterkin, it allowed itself to be

stroked, and rubbed itself against his legs, purring loudly all the

time, and showing every symptom of the most extreme delight.

 

“It’s no more a wild cat than I am!” cried Peterkin, taking it in

his arms. “It’s quite tame. Poor pussy, cheetie pussy!”

 

We now crowded around Peterkin, and were not a little surprised,

and, to say truth, a good deal affected, by the sight of the poor

animal’s excessive joy. It rubbed its head against Peterkin’s

cheek, licked his chin, and thrust its head almost violently into

his neck, while it purred more loudly than I ever heard a cat purr

before, and appeared to be so much overpowered by its feelings,

that it occasionally mewed and purred almost in the same breath.

Such demonstrations of joy and affection led us at once to conclude

that this poor cat must have known man before, and we conjectured

that it had been left either accidentally or by design on the

island many years ago, and was now evincing its extreme joy at

meeting once more with human beings. While we were fondling the

cat and talking about it, Jack glanced round the open space in the

midst of which we stood.

 

“Hallo!” exclaimed he; “this looks something like a clearing. The

axe has been at work here. Just look at these tree-stumps.”

 

We now turned to examine these, and, without doubt, we found trees

that had been cut down here and there, also stumps and broken

branches; all of which, however, were completely covered over with

moss, and bore evidence of having been in this condition for some

years. No human footprints were to be seen, either on the track

or among the bushes; but those of the cat were found everywhere.

We now determined to follow up the track as far as it went, and

Peterkin put the cat down; but it seemed to be so weak, and mewed

so very pitifully, that he took it up again and carried it in his

arms, where, in a few minutes, it fell sound asleep.

 

About ten yards farther on, the felled trees became more numerous,

and the track, diverging to the right, followed for a short space

the banks of a stream. Suddenly we came to a spot where once must

have been a rude bridge, the stones of which were scattered in the

stream, and those on each bank entirely covered over with moss. In

silent surprise and expectancy we continued to advance, and, a few

yards farther on, beheld, under the shelter of some bread-fruit

trees, a small hut or cottage. I cannot hope to convey to my

readers a very correct idea of the feelings that affected us on

witnessing this unexpected sight. We stood for a long time in

silent wonder, for there was a deep and most melancholy stillness

about the place that quite overpowered us; and when we did at

length speak, it was in subdued whispers, as if we were surrounded

by some awful or supernatural influence. Even Peterkin’s voice,

usually so quick and lively on all occasions, was hushed now; for

there was a dreariness about this silent, lonely, uninhabited

cottage, - so strange in its appearance, so far away from the usual

dwellings of man, so old, decayed, and deserted in its aspect, -

that fell upon our spirits like a thick cloud, and blotted out as

with a pall the cheerful sunshine that had filled us since the

commencement of our tour round the island.

 

The hut or cottage was rude and simple in its construction. It was

not more than twelve feet long by ten feet broad, and about seven

or eight feet high. It had one window, or rather a small frame in

which a window might, perhaps, once have been, but which was now

empty. The door was exceedingly low, and formed of rough boards,

and the roof was covered with broad cocoa-nut and plantain leaves.

But every part of it was in a state of the utmost decay. Moss and

green matter grew in spots all over it. The woodwork was quite

perforated with holes; the roof had nearly fallen in, and appeared

to be prevented from doing so altogether by the thick matting of

creeping-plants and the interlaced branches which years of neglect

had allowed to cover it almost entirely; while the thick, luxuriant

branches of the bread-fruit and other trees spread above it, and

flung a deep, sombre shadow over the spot, as if to guard it from

the heat and the light of day. We conversed long and in whispers

about this strange habitation ere we ventured to approach it; and

when at length we did so it was, at least on my part, with feelings

of awe.

 

At first Jack endeavoured to peep in at the window, but from the

deep shadow of the trees already mentioned, and the gloom within,

he could not clearly discern objects; so we lifted the latch and

pushed open the door. We observed that the latch was made of iron,

and almost eaten away with rust. In the like condition were also

the hinges, which creaked as the door swung back. On entering, we

stood still and gazed around us, while we were much impressed with

the dreary stillness of the room. But what we saw there surprised

and shocked us not a little. There was no furniture in the

apartment save a little wooden stool and an iron pot, the latter

almost eaten through with rust. In the corner farthest from the

door was a low bedstead, on which lay two skeletons, imbedded in a

little heap of dry dust. With beating hearts we went forward to

examine them. One was the skeleton of a man, the other that of a

dog, which was extended close beside that of the man, with its head

resting on his bosom

 

Now we were very much concerned about this discovery, and could

scarce refrain from tears on beholding these sad remains. After

some time, we began to talk about what we had seen, and to examine

in and around the hut, in order to discover some clue to the name

or history of this poor man, who had thus died in solitude, with

none to mourn his loss save his cat and his faithful dog. But we

found nothing, - neither a book nor a scrap of paper. We found,

however, the decayed remnants of what appeared to have been

clothing, and an old axe. But none of these things bore marks of

any kind; and, indeed, they were so much decayed as to convince us

that they had lain in the condition in which we found them for many

years.

 

This discovery now accounted to us for the tree stump at the top of

the mountain with the initials cut on it; also for the patch of

sugar-cane and other traces of man which we had met with in the

course of our rambles over the