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

feet below it. Our precautions against the

savages I found were indeed necessary.

 

One day we were becalmed among a group of small islands, most of

which appeared to be uninhabited. As we were in want of fresh

water the captain sent the boat ashore to bring off a cask or two.

But we were mistaken in thinking there were no natives; for

scarcely had we drawn near to the shore when a band of naked blacks

rushed out of the bush and assembled on the beach, brandishing

their clubs and spears in a threatening manner. Our men were well

armed, but refrained from showing any signs of hostility, and rowed

nearer in order to converse with the natives; and I now found that

more than one of the crew could imperfectly speak dialects of the

language peculiar to the South Sea islanders. When within forty

yards of the shore, we ceased rowing, and the first mate stood up

to address the multitude; but, instead of answering us, they

replied with a shower of stones, some of which cut the men

severely. Instantly our muskets were levelled, and a volley was

about to be fired, when the captain hailed us in a loud voice from

the schooner, which lay not more than five or six hundred yards off

the shore.

 

“Don’t fire,” he shouted, angrily. “Pull off to the point ahead of

you.”

 

The men looked surprised at this order, and uttered deep curses as

they prepared to obey, for their wrath was roused and they burned

for revenge. Three or four of them hesitated, and seemed disposed

to mutiny.

 

“Don’t distress yourselves, lads,” said the mate, while a bitter

smile curled his lip. “Obey orders. The captain’s not the man to

take an insult tamely. If Long Tom does not speak presently I’ll

give myself to the sharks.”

 

The men smiled significantly as they pulled from the shore, which

was now crowded with a dense mass of savages, amounting, probably,

to five or six hundred. We had not rowed off above a couple of

hundred yards when a loud roar thundered over the sea, and the big

brass gun sent a withering shower of grape point blank into the

midst of the living mass, through which a wide lane was cut, while

a yell, the like of which I could not have imagined, burst from the

miserable survivors as they fled to the woods. Amongst the heaps

of dead that lay on the sand, just where they had fallen, I could

distinguish mutilated forms writhing in agony, while ever and anon

one and another rose convulsively from out the mass, endeavoured to

stagger towards the wood, and ere they had taken a few steps, fell

and wallowed on the bloody sand. My blood curdled within me as I

witnessed this frightful and wanton slaughter; but I had little

time to think, for the captain’s deep voice came again over the

water towards us: “Pull ashore, lads, and fill your water casks.”

The men obeyed in silence, and it seemed to me as if even their

hard hearts were shocked by the ruthless deed. On gaining the

mouth of the rivulet at which we intended to take in water, we

found it flowing with blood, for the greater part of those who were

slain had been standing on the banks of the stream, a short way

above its mouth. Many of the wretched creatures had fallen into

it, and we found one body, which had been carried down, jammed

between two rocks, with the staring eyeballs turned towards us and

his black hair waving in the ripples of the blood-red stream. No

one dared to oppose our landing now, so we carried our casks to a

pool above the murdered group, and having filled them, returned on

board. Fortunately a breeze sprang up soon afterwards and carried

us away from the dreadful spot; but it could not waft me away from

the memory of what I had seen.

 

“And this,” thought I, gazing in horror at the captain, who, with a

quiet look of indifference, leaned upon the taffrail smoking a

cigar and contemplating the fertile green islets as they passed

like a lovely picture before our eyes - “this is the man who

favours the missionaries because they are useful to him and can

tame the savages better than any one else can do it!” Then I

wondered in my mind whether it were possible for any missionary to

tame HIM!

 

CHAPTER XXIV.

 

Bloody Bill is communicative and sagacious - Unpleasant prospects -

Retrospective meditations interrupted by volcanic agency - The

pirates negotiate with a Feejee chief - Various etceteras that are

calculated to surprise and horrify.

 

IT was many days after the events just narrated ere I recovered a

little of my wonted spirits. I could not shake off the feeling for

a long time that I was in a frightful dream, and the sight of our

captain filled me with so much horror that I kept out of his way as

much as my duties about the cabin would permit. Fortunately he

took so little notice of me that he did not observe my changed

feelings towards him, otherwise it might have been worse for me.

 

But I was now resolved that I would run away the very first island

we should land at, and commit myself to the hospitality of the

natives rather than remain an hour longer than I could help in the

pirate schooner. I pondered this subject a good deal, and at last

made up my mind to communicate my intention to Bloody Bill; for,

during several talks I had had with him of late, I felt assured

that he too would willingly escape if possible. When I told him of

my design he shook his head. “No, no, Ralph,” said he, “you must

not think of running away here. Among some of the groups of

islands you might do so with safety, but if you tried it here you

would find that you had jumped out of the fryin’ pan into the

fire.”

 

“How so, Bill?” said I, “would the natives not receive me?”

 

“That they would, lad; but they would eat you too.”

 

“Eat me!” said I in surprise, “I thought the South Sea islanders

never ate anybody except their enemies.”

 

“Humph!” ejaculated Bill. “I s’pose ‘twas yer tender-hearted

friends in England that put that notion into your head. There’s a

set o’ soft-hearted folk at home that I knows on, who don’t like to

have their feelin’s ruffled, and when you tell them anything they

don’t like - that shocks them, as they call it - no matter how true

it be, they stop their ears and cry out, ‘Oh, that is TOO horrible!

We can’t believe that!’ An’ they say truth. They can’t believe it

‘cause they won’t believe it. Now, I believe there’s thousands o’

the people in England who are sich born drivellin’ WON’T-BELIEVERS

that they think the black fellows hereaway, at the worst, eat an

enemy only now an’ then, out o’ spite; whereas, I know for certain,

and many captains of the British and American navies know as well

as me, that the Feejee islanders eat not only their enemies but one

another; and they do it not for spite, but for pleasure. It’s a

FACT that they prefer human flesh to any other. But they don’t

like white men’s flesh so well as black. They say it makes them

sick.”

 

“Why, Bill,” said I, “you told me just now that they would eat ME

if they caught me.”

 

“So I did; and so I think they would. I’ve only heard some o’ them

say they don’t like white men SO WELL as black; but if they was

hungry they wouldn’t be particular. Anyhow, I’m sure they would

kill you. You see, Ralph, I’ve been a good while in them parts,

and I’ve visited the different groups of islands oftentimes as a

trader. And thorough goin’ blackguards some o’ them traders are.

No better than pirates, I can tell you. One captain that I sailed

with was not a chip better than the one we’re with now. He was

tradin’ with a friendly chief one day, aboard his vessel. The

chief had swam off to us with the things for trade tied a-top of

his head, for them chaps are like otters in the water. Well, the

chief was hard on the captain, and would not part with some o’ his

things. When their bargainin’ was over they shook hands, and the

chief jumped over board to swim ashore; but before he got forty

yards from the ship the captain seized a musket and shot him dead.

He then hove up anchor and put to sea, and as we sailed along

shore, he dropped six black-fellows with his rifle, remarkin’ that

‘that would spoil the trade for the next comers.’ But, as I was

sayin’, I’m up to the ways o’ these fellows. One o’ the laws o’

the country is, that every shipwrecked person who happens to be

cast ashore, be he dead or alive, is doomed to be roasted and

eaten. There was a small tradin’ schooner wrecked off one of these

islands when we were lyin’ there in harbour during a storm. The

crew was lost, all but three men, who swam ashore. The moment they

landed they were seized by the natives and carried up into the

woods. We knew pretty well what their fate would be, but we could

not help them, for our crew was small, and if we had gone ashore

they would likely have killed us all. We never saw the three men

again; but we heard frightful yelling, and dancing, and merry-making that night; and one of the natives, who came aboard to trade

with us next day, told us that the LONG PIGS, as he called the men,

had been roasted and eaten, and their bones were to be converted

into sail needles. He also said that white men were bad to eat,

and that most o’ the people on shore were sick.”

 

I was very much shocked and cast down in my mind at this terrible

account of the natives, and asked Bill what he would advise me to

do. Looking round the deck to make sure that we were not

overheard, he lowered his voice and said, “There are two or three

ways that we might escape, Ralph, but none o’ them’s easy. If the

captain would only sail for some o’ the islands near Tahiti, we

might run away there well enough, because the natives are all

Christians; an’ we find that wherever the savages take up with

Christianity they always give over their bloody ways, and are safe

to be trusted. I never cared for Christianity myself,” he

continued, in a soliloquising voice, “and I don’t well know what it

means; but a man with half an eye can see what it does for these

black critters. However, the captain always keeps a sharp look out

after us when we get to these islands, for he half suspects that

one or two o’ us are tired of his company. Then, we might manage

to cut the boat adrift some fine night when it’s our watch on deck,

and clear off before they discovered that we were gone. But we

would run the risk o’ bein’ caught by the blacks. I wouldn’t like

to try that plan. But you and I will think over it, Ralph, and see

what’s to be done. In the meantime it’s our watch below, so I’ll

go and turn in.”

 

Bill then bade me good night, and went below, while a comrade took

his place at the helm; but, feeling no desire to enter into

conversation with him, I