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

he had not broken Tararo’s head, and he only

hoped that one day he should be able to plant his knuckles on the

bridge of that chief’s nose! After they had “pumped me dry,” as

Peterkin said, I begged to be informed of what had happened to them

during my long absence, and particularly as to how they got out of

the Diamond Cave.

 

“Well, you must know,” began Jack, “after you had dived out of the

cave, on the day you were taken away from us, we waited very

patiently for half an hour, not expecting you to return before the

end of that time. Then we began to upbraid you for staying so

long, when you knew we would be anxious; but when an hour passed,

we became alarmed, and I resolved at all hazards to dive out, and

see what had become of you, although I felt for poor Peterkin,

because, as he truly said, ‘If you never come back, I’m shut up

here for life.’ However, I promised not to run any risk, and he

let me go; which, to say truth, I thought very courageous of him!”

 

“I should just think it was!” interrupted Peterkin, looking at Jack

over the edge of a monstrous potato which he happened to be

devouring at the time.

 

“Well,” continued Jack, “you may guess my consternation when you

did not answer to my halloo. At first I imagined that the pirates

must have killed you, and left you in the bush, or thrown you into

the sea; then it occurred to me that this would have served no end

of theirs, so I came to the conclusion that they must have carried

you away with them. As this thought struck me, I observed the

pirate schooner standing away to the nor’ard, almost hull-down on

the horizon, and I sat down on the rocks to watch her as she slowly

sank from my sight. And I tell you, Ralph, my boy, that I shed

more tears that time, at losing you, than I have done, I verify

believe, all my life before - “

 

“Pardon me, Jack, for interrupting,” said Peterkin; “surely you

must be mistaken in that; you’ve often told me that, when you were

a baby, you used to howl and roar from morning to - “

 

“Hold your tongue, Peterkin,” cried Jack. “Well, after the

schooner had disappeared, I dived back into the cave, much to

Peterkin’s relief, and told him what I had seen. We sat down and

had a long talk over this matter, and then we agreed to make a

regular, systematic search through the woods, so as to make sure,

at least, that you had not been killed. But now we thought of the

difficulty of getting out of the cave without your help. Peterkin

became dreadfully nervous when he thought of this; and I must

confess that I felt some alarm, for, of course, I could not hope

alone to take him out so quickly as we two together had brought him

in; and he himself vowed that, if we had been a moment longer with

him that time, he would have had to take a breath of salt water.

However, there was no help for it, and I endeavoured to calm his

fears as well as I could: ‘for,’ said I, ‘you can’t live here,

Peterkin;’ to which he replied, ‘Of course not, Jack, I can only

die here, and, as that’s not at all desirable, you had better

propose something.’ So I suggested that he should take a good long

breath, and trust himself to me.

 

“‘Might we not make a large bag of cocoa-nut cloth, into which I

could shove my head, and tie it tight round my neck?’ he asked,

with a haggard smile. ‘It might let me get one breath under

water!’

 

“‘No use,’ said I; ‘it would fill in a moment and suffocate you. I

see nothing for it, Peterkin, if you really can’t keep your breath

so long, but to let me knock you down, and carry you out while in a

state of insensibility.’

 

“But Peterkin didn’t relish this idea. He seemed to fear that I

could not be able to measure the exact force of the blow, and

might, on the one hand, hit him so softly as to render a second or

third blow necessary, which would be very uncomfortable; or, on the

other hand, give him such a smash as would entirely spoil his

figurehead, or, mayhap, knock the life out of him altogether! At

last I got him persuaded to try to hold his breath, and commit

himself to me; so he agreed, and down we went. But I had not got

him half way through, when he began to struggle and kick like a

wild bull, burst from my grasp, and hit against the roof of the

tunnel. I was therefore, obliged to force him violently back into

the cave gain, where he rose panting to the surface. In short, he

had lost his presence of mind, and - “

 

“Nothing of the sort,” cried Peterkin, indignantly, “I had only

lost my wind; and if I had not had presence of mind enough to kick

as I did, I should have bu’st in your arms!”

 

“Well, well, so be it,” resumed Jack, with a smile, “but the upshot

of it was, that we had to hold another consultation on the point,

and I really believe that, had it not been for a happy thought of

mine, we should have been consulting there yet.”

 

“I wish we had,” again interrupted Peterkin with a sigh. “I’m

sure, Ralph, if I had thought that you were coming back again, I

would willingly have awaited your return for months, rather than

have endured the mental agony which I went through! But proceed.”

 

“The thought was this,” continued Jack, “that I should tie

Peterkin’s hands and feet with cords, and then lash him firmly to a

stout pole about five feet long, in order to render him quite

powerless, and keep him straight and stiff. You should have seen

his face of horror, Ralph, when I suggested this: but he came to

see that it was his only chance, and told me to set about it as

fast as I could; ‘for,’ said he, ‘this is no jokin’, Jack, I can

tell you, and the sooner it’s done the better.’ I soon procured

the cordage and a suitable pole, with which I returned to the cave,

and lashed him as stiff and straight as an Egyptian mummy; and, to

say truth, he was no bad representation of what an English mummy

would be, if there were such things, for he was as white as a dead

man.”

 

“‘Now,’ said Peterkin, in a tremulous voice, ‘swim with me as near

to the edge of the hole as you can before you dive, then let me

take a long breath, and, as I sha’nt be able to speak after I’ve

taken it, you’ll watch my face, and the moment you see me wink -

dive! And oh!’ he added, earnestly, ‘pray don’t be long!’

 

“I promised to pay the strictest attention to his wishes, and swam

with him to the outlet of the cave. Here I paused. ‘Now then,’

said I, ‘pull away at the wind, lad.’”

 

Peterkin drew in a breath so long that I could not help thinking of

the frog in the fable, that wanted to swell itself as big as the

ox. Then I looked into his face earnestly. Slap went the lid of

his right eye; down went my head, and up went my heels. We shot

through the passage like an arrow, and rose to the surface of the

open sea before you could count twenty!

 

“Peterkin had taken in such an awful load of wind that, on reaching

the free air, he let it out with a yell loud enough to have been

heard a mile off, and then, the change in his feelings was so

sudden and great, that he did not wait till we landed, but began,

tied up as he was, to shout and sing for joy as I supported him

with my left arm to the shore. However, in the middle of a laugh

that a hyaena might have envied, I let him accidentally slip, which

extinguished him in a moment.

 

“After this happy deliverance, we immediately began our search for

your dead body, Ralph, and you have no idea how low our hearts sank

as we set off, day after day, to examine the valleys and mountain

sides with the utmost care. In about three weeks we completed the

survey of the whole island, and had at least the satisfaction of

knowing that you had not been killed. But it occurred to us that

you might have been thrown into the sea, so we examined the sands

and the lagoon carefully, and afterwards went all round the outer

reef. One day, while we were upon the reef, Peterkin espied a

small dark object lying among the rocks, which seemed to be quite

different from the surrounding stones. We hastened towards the

spot, and found it to be a small keg. On knocking out the head we

discovered that it was gunpowder.”

 

“It was I who sent you that, Jack,” said I, with a smile.

 

“Fork out!” cried Peterkin, energetically, starting to his feet and

extending his open hand to Jack. “Down with the money, sir, else

I’ll have you shut up for life in a debtor’s prison the moment we

return to England!”

 

“I’ll give you an I.O.U. in the meantime,” returned Jack, laughing,

“so sit down and be quiet. The fact is, Ralph, when we discovered

this keg of powder, Peterkin immediately took me a bet of a

thousand pounds that you had something to do with it, and I took

him a bet of ten thousand that you had not.

 

“Peterkin was right then,” said I, explaining how the thing had

occurred.

 

“Well, we found it very useful,” continued Jack; “although some of

it had got a little damp; and we furbished up the old pistol, with

which Peterkin is a crack shot now. But, to continue. We did not

find any other vestige of you on the reef, and, finally, gave up

all hope of ever seeing you again. After this the island became a

dreary place to us, and we began to long for a ship to heave in

sight and take us off. But now that you’re back again, my dear

fellow, it looks as bright and cheerful as it used to do, and I

love it as much as ever.”

 

“And now,” continued Jack, “I have a great desire to visit some of

the other islands of the South Seas. Here we have a first-rate

schooner at our disposal, so I don’t see what should hinder us.”

 

“Just the very thing I was going to propose,” cried Peterkin; “I

vote for starting at once.”

 

“Well, then,” said Jack, “it seems to me that we could not do

better than shape our course for the island on which Avatea lives,

and endeavour to persuade Tararo to let her marry the black fellow

to whom she is engaged, instead of making a long pig of her. If he

has a spark of gratitude in him he’ll do it. Besides, having

become champions for this girl once before, it behoves us, as true

knights, not to rest until we set her free; at least, all the

heroes in all the story-books I have ever read would count it foul

disgrace to leave such a work unfinished.”

 

“I’m sure I don’t know, or care, what your knights in story-books

would do,” said Peterkin, “but I’m certain