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

produced repeated roars of laughter, I smiled and

helped myself to another slice of plantain.

 

“Well, but,” continued Peterkin, “I was talking of a sail to-morrow. Can’t we have one, Jack?”

 

“No,” replied Jack, “we can’t have a sail, but I hope we shall have

a row, as I intend to work hard at the oars this afternoon, and, if

we can’t get them finished by sunset we’ll light our candle-nuts,

and turn them out of hands before we turn into bed.”

 

“Very good,” said Peterkin, tossing a lump of pork to the cat, who

received it with a mew of satisfaction. “I’ll help you, if I can.”

 

“Afterwards,” continued Jack, “we will make a sail out of the

cocoa-nut cloth, and rig up a mast, and then we shall be able to

sail to some of the other islands, and visit our old friends the

penguins.”

 

The prospect of being so soon in a position to extend our

observations to the other islands, and enjoy a sail over the

beautiful sea, afforded us much delight, and, after dinner, we set

about making the oars in good earnest. Jack went into the woods

and blocked them roughly out with the axe, and I smoothed them down

with the knife, while Peterkin remained in the bower, spinning, or,

rather, twisting some strong thick cordage with which to fasten

them to the boat.

 

We worked hard and rapidly, so that, when the sun went down, Jack

and I returned to the bower with four stout oars, which required

little to be done to them save a slight degree of polishing with

the knife. As we drew near we were suddenly arrested by the sound

of a voice! We were not a little surprised at this - indeed I may

almost say alarmed - for, although Peterkin was undoubtedly fond of

talking, we had never, up to this time, found him talking to

himself. We listened intently, and still heard the sound of a

voice as if in conversation. Jack motioned me to be silent, and,

advancing to the bower on tip-toe, we peeped in.

 

The sight that met our gaze was certainly not a little amusing. On

the top of a log which we sometimes used as a table, sat the black

cat, with a very demure expression on its countenance; and in front

of it, sitting on the ground, with his legs extended on either side

of the log, was Peterkin. At the moment we saw him he was gazing

intently into the cat’s face, with his nose about four inches from

it, - his hands being thrust into his breeches pockets.

 

“Cat,” said Peterkin, turning his head a little on one side, “I

love you!”

 

There was a pause, as if Peterkin awaited a reply to this

affectionate declaration but the cat said nothing.

 

“Do you hear me?” cried Peterkin, sharply. “I love you - I do.

Don’t you love me?”

 

To this touching appeal the cat said “Mew,” faintly.

 

“Ah! that’s right. You’re a jolly old rascal. Why did you not

speak at once? eh?” and Peterkin put forward his mouth and kissed

the cat on the nose!

 

“Yes,” continued Peterkin, after a pause, “I love you. D’you think

I’d say so if I didn’t, you black villain? I love you because I’ve

got to take care of you, and to look after you, and to think about

you, and to see that you don’t die - “

 

“Mew, me-a-w!” said the cat.

 

“Very good,” continued Peterkin, “quite true, I have no doubt; but

you’ve no right to interrupt me, sir. Hold your tongue till I have

done speaking. Moreover, cat, I love you because you came to me

the first time you ever saw me, and didn’t seem to be afraid, and

appeared to be fond of me, though you didn’t know that I wasn’t

going to kill you. Now, that was brave, that was bold, and very

jolly, old boy, and I love you for it - I do!”

 

Again there was a pause of a few minutes, during which the cat

looked placid, and Peterkin dropped his eyes upon its toes as if in

contemplation. Suddenly he looked up.

 

“Well, cat, what are you thinking about now? won’t speak? eh? Now,

tell me; don’t you think it’s a monstrous shame that these two

scoundrels, Jack and Ralph, should keep us waiting for our supper

so long?”

 

Here the cat arose, put up its back and stretched itself; yawned

slightly, and licked the point of Peterkin’s nose!

 

“Just so, old boy, you’re a clever fellow, - I really do believe

the brute understands me!” said Peterkin, while a broad grin

overspread his face, as he drew back and surveyed the cat.

 

At this point Jack burst into a loud fit of laughter. The cat

uttered an angry fuff and fled, while Peterkin sprang up and

exclaimed, -

 

“Bad luck to you, Jack! you’ve nearly made the heart jump out of my

body, you have.”

 

“Perhaps I have,” replied Jack, laughing, as we entered the bower,

“but, as I don’t intend to keep you or the cat any longer from your

supper, I hope that you’ll both forgive me.”

 

Peterkin endeavoured to turn this affair off with a laugh, but I

observed that he blushed very deeply at the time we discovered

ourselves, and he did not seem to relish any allusion to the

subject afterwards; so we refrained from remarking on it ever

after, - though it tickled us not a little at the time.

 

After supper we retired to rest and to dream of wonderful

adventures in our little boat, and distant voyages upon the sea.

 

CHAPTER XVI.

 

The boat launched - We visit the coral reef - The great breaker

that never goes down - Coral insects - The way in which coral

islands are made - The boat’s sail - We tax our ingenuity to form

fish-hooks - Some of the fish we saw - And a monstrous whale -

Wonderful shower of little fish - Water-spouts.

 

IT was a bright, clear, beautiful morning, when we first launched

our little boat and rowed out upon the placid waters of the lagoon.

Not a breath of wind ruffled the surface of the deep. Not a cloud

spotted the deep blue sky. Not a sound that was discordant broke

the stillness of the morning, although there were many sounds,

sweet, tiny, and melodious, that mingled in the universal harmony

of nature. The sun was just rising from the Pacific’s ample bosom

and tipping the mountain tops with a red glow. The sea was shining

like a sheet of glass, yet heaving with the long deep swell that,

all the world round, indicates the life of ocean; and the bright

sea-weeds and the brilliant corals shone in the depths of that

pellucid water, as we rowed over it, like rare and precious gems.

Oh! it was a sight fitted to stir the soul of man to its

profoundest depths, and, if he owned a heart at all, to lift that

heart in adoration and gratitude to the great Creator of this

magnificent and glorious universe.

 

At first, in the strength of our delight, we rowed hither and

thither without aim or object. But after the effervescence of our

spirits was abated, we began to look about us and to consider what

we should do.

 

“I vote that we row to the reef,” cried Peterkin.

 

“And I vote that we visit the islands within the lagoon,” said I.

 

“And I vote we do both,” cried Jack, “so pull away, boys.”

 

As I have already said, we had made four oars, but our boat was so

small that only two were necessary. The extra pair were reserved

in case any accident should happen to the others. It was therefore

only needful that two of us should row, while the third steered, by

means of an oar, and relieved the rowers occasionally.

 

First we landed on one of the small islands and ran all over it,

but saw nothing worthy of particular notice. Then we landed on a

larger island, on which were growing a few cocoa-nut trees. Not

having eaten anything that morning, we gathered a few of the nuts

and breakfasted. After this we pulled straight out to sea and

landed on the coral reef.

 

This was indeed a novel and interesting sight to us. We had now

been so long on shore that we had almost forgotten the appearance

of breakers, for there were none within the lagoon; but now, as we

stood beside the foam-crested billow of the open sea, all the

enthusiasm of the sailor was awakened in our breasts; and, as we

gazed on the wide-spread ruin of that single magnificent breaker

that burst in thunder at our feet, we forgot the Coral Island

behind us; we forgot our bower and the calm repose of the scented

woods; we forgot all that had passed during the last few months,

and remembered nothing but the storms, the calms, the fresh breezes

and the surging billows of the open sea.

 

This huge, ceaseless breaker, to which I have so often alluded, was

a much larger and more sublime object than we had at all imagined

it to be. It rose many yards above the level of the sea, and could

be seen approaching at some distance from the reef. Slowly and

majestically it came on, acquiring greater volume and velocity as

it advanced, until it assumed the form of a clear watery arch,

which sparkled in the bright sun. On it came with resistless and

solemn majesty, - the upper edge lipped gently over, and it fell

with a roar that seemed as though the heart of Ocean were broken in

the crash of tumultuous water, while the foam-clad coral reef

appeared to tremble beneath the mighty shock!

 

We gazed long and wonderingly at this great sight, and it was with

difficulty we could tear ourselves away from it. As I have once

before mentioned, this wave broke in many places over the reef and

scattered some of its spray into the lagoon, but in most places the

reef was sufficiently broad and elevated to receive and check its

entire force. In many places the coral rocks were covered with

vegetation, - the beginning, as it appeared to us, of future

islands. Thus, on this reef, we came to perceive how most of the

small islands of those seas are formed. On one part we saw the

spray of the breaker washing over the rocks, and millions of

little, active, busy creatures continuing the work of building up

this living rampart. At another place, which was just a little too

high for the waves to wash over it, the coral insects were all

dead; for we found that they never did their work above water.

They had faithfully completed the mighty work which their Creator

had given them to do, and they were now all dead. Again, in other

spots the ceaseless lashing of the sea had broken the dead coral in

pieces, and cast it up in the form of sand. Here sea-birds had

alighted, little pieces of sea-weed and stray bits of wood had been

washed up, seeds of plants had been carried by the wind and a few

lovely blades of bright green had already sprung up, which, when

they died, would increase the size and fertility of these emeralds

of Ocean. At other places these islets had grown apace, and were

shaded by one or two cocoa-nut trees, which grew, literally, in the

sand, and were constantly washed by the ocean spray; yet, as I have

before remarked, their fruit was most refreshing and sweet to