The Coral Island - Robert Michael Ballantyne (little readers txt) 📗
- Author: Robert Michael Ballantyne
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bodies; and with this material they build their little cells or
habitations. They choose the summit of a volcano, or the top of a
submarine mountain, as a foundation on which to build; for it is
found that they never work at any great depth below the surface.
On this they work; the polypes on the mountain top, of course,
reach the surface first, then those at the outer edges reach the
top sooner than the others between them and the centre, thus
forming the coral reef surrounding the lagoon of water and the
central island; after that the insects within the lagoon cease
working. When the surface of the water is reached, these myriads
of wonderful creatures die. Then birds visit the spot, and seeds
are thus conveyed thither, which take root, and spring up, and
flourish. Thus are commenced those coralline islets of which you
have seen so many in these seas. The reefs round the large islands
are formed in a similar manner. When we consider,” added the
missionary, “the smallness of the architects used by our heavenly
Father in order to form those lovely and innumerable islands, we
are filled with much of that feeling which induced the ancient king
to exclaim, ‘How manifold, O God, are thy works! in wisdom thou
hast made them all.’”
We all heartily agreed with the missionary in this sentiment, and
felt not a little gratified to find that the opinions which Jack
and I had been led to form from personal observation on our Coral
Island were thus to a great extent corroborated.
The missionary also gave us an account of the manner in which
Christianity had been introduced among them. He said: “When
missionaries were first sent here, three years ago, a small vessel
brought them; and the chief, who is now dead, promised to treat
well the two native teachers who were left with their wives on the
island. But scarcely had the boat which landed them returned to
the ship, than the natives began to maltreat their guests, taking
away all they possessed, and offering them further violence, so
that, when the boat was sent in haste to fetch them away, the
clothes of both men and women were torn nearly off their backs.
“Two years after this the vessel visited them again, and I, being
in her, volunteered to land alone, without any goods whatever;
begging that my wife might be brought to me the following year, -
that is, THIS year; and, as you see, she is with me. But the surf
was so high that the boat could not land me; so with nothing on but
my trousers and shirt, and with a few catechisms and a Bible,
besides some portions of the Scripture translated into the Mango
tongue, I sprang into the sea, and swam ashore on the crest of a
breaker. I was instantly dragged up the beach by the natives; who,
on finding I had nothing worth having upon me, let me alone. I
then made signs to my friends in the ship to leave me; which they
did. At fist the natives listened to me in silence, but laughed at
what I said while I preached the gospel of our blessed Saviour
Jesus Christ to them. Afterwards they treated me ill sometimes;
but I persevered, and continued to dwell among them, and dispute,
and exhort them to give up their sinful ways of life, burn their
idols, and come to Jesus.
“About a month after I landed, I heard that the chief was dead. He
was the father of the present chief, who is now a most consistent
member of the church. It is a custom here that, when a chief dies,
his wives are strangled and buried with him. Knowing this, I
hastened to his house to endeavour to prevent such cruelty if
possible. When I arrived, I found two of the wives had already
been killed, while another was in the act of being strangled. I
pleaded hard for her, but it was too late; she was already dead. I
then entreated the son to spare the fourth wife; and, after much
hesitation, my prayer was granted: but, in half an hour
afterwards, this poor woman repented of being unfaithful, as she
termed it, to her husband, and insisted on being strangled; which
was accordingly done.
“All this time the chief’s son was walking up and down before his
father’s house with a brow black as thunder. When he entered, I
went in with him, and found, to my surprise, that his father was
not dead! The old man was sitting on a mat in a corner, with an
expression of placid resignation on his face.
“‘Why,’ said I, ‘have you strangled your father’s wives before he
is dead?’
“To this the son replied, ‘He is dead. That is no longer my
father. He is as good as dead now. He is to be BURIED ALIVE.’
“I now remembered having heard that it is a custom among the Feejee
islanders, that when the reigning chief grows old or infirm, the
heir to the chieftainship has a right to depose his father; in
which case he is considered as dead, and is buried alive. The
young chief was now about to follow this custom, and, despite my
earnest entreaties and pleadings, the old chief was buried that day
before my eyes in the same grave with his four strangled wives!
Oh! my heart groaned when I saw this, and I prayed to God to open
the hearts of these poor creatures, as he had already opened mine,
and pour into them the light and the love of the gospel of Jesus.
My prayer was answered very soon. A week afterwards, the son, who
was now chief of the tribe, came to me, bearing his god on his
shoulders, and groaning beneath its weight. Flinging it down at my
feet, he desired me to burn it!
“You may conceive how overjoyed I was at this. I sprang up and
embraced him, while I shed tears of joy. Then we made a fire, and
burned the god to ashes, amid an immense concourse of the people,
who seemed terrified at what was being done, and shrank back when
we burned the god, expecting some signal vengeance to be taken upon
us; but seeing that nothing happened, they changed their minds, and
thought that our God must be the true one after all. From that
time the mission prospered steadily, and now, while there is not a
single man in the tribe who has not burned his household gods, and
become a convert to Christianity, there are not a few, I hope, who
are true followers of the Lamb, having been plucked as brands from
the burning by Him who can save unto the uttermost. I will not
tell you more of our progress at this time, but you see,” he said,
waving his hand around him, “the village and the church did not
exist a year ago!”
We were indeed much interested in this account, and I could not
help again in my heart praying God to prosper those missionary
societies that send such inestimable blessings to these islands of
dark and bloody idolatry. The teacher also added that the other
tribes were very indignant at this one for having burned its gods,
and threatened to destroy it altogether, but they had done nothing
yet; “and if they should,” said the teacher, “the Lord is on our
side; of whom shall we be afraid?”
“Have the missionaries many stations in these seas?” inquired Jack.
“Oh, yes. The London Missionary Society have a great many in the
Tahiti group, and other islands in that quarter. Then the
Wesleyans have the Feejee Islands all to themselves, and the
Americans have many stations in other groups. But still, my
friend, there are hundreds of islands here the natives of which
have never heard of Jesus, or the good word of God, or the Holy
Spirit; and thousands are living and dying in the practice of those
terrible sins and bloody murders of which you have already heard.
I trust, my friends,” he added, looking earnestly into our faces,
“I trust that if you ever return to England, you will tell your
Christian friends that the horrors which they hear of in regard to
these islands are LITERALLY TRUE, and that when they have heard the
worst, the ‘HALF HAS NOT BEEN TOLD THEM;’ for there are perpetrated
here foul deeds of darkness of which man may not speak. You may
also tell them,” he said, looking around with a smile, while a tear
of gratitude trembled in his eye and rolled down his coal-black
cheek, - “tell them of the blessings that the gospel has wrought
HERE!”
We assured our friend that we would certainly not forget his
request. On returning towards the village, about noon, we remarked
on the beautiful whiteness of the cottages.
“That is owing to the lime with which they are plastered,” said the
teacher. “When the natives were converted, as I have described, I
set them to work to build cottages for themselves, and also this
handsome church which you see. When the framework and other parts
of the houses were up, I sent the people to fetch coral from the
sea. They brought immense quantities. Then I made them cut wood,
and, piling the coral above it, set it on fire.
“‘Look! look!’ cried the poor people, in amazement; ‘what wonderful
people the Christians are! He is roasting stones. We shall not
need taro or bread-fruit any more; we may eat stones!’
“But their surprise was still greater when the coral was reduced to
a fine soft white powder. They immediately set up a great shout,
and, mingling the lime with water, rubbed their faces and their
bodies all over with it, and ran through the village screaming with
delight. They were also much surprised at another thing they saw
me do. I wished to make some household furniture, and constructed
a turning-lathe to assist me. The first thing that I turned was
the leg of a sofa; which was no sooner finished than the chief
seized it with wonder and delight, and ran through the village
exhibiting it to the people, who looked upon it with great
admiration. The chief then, tying a string to it, hung it round
his neck as an ornament! He afterwards told me that if he had seen
it before he became a Christian he would have made it his god!”
As the teacher concluded this anecdote we reached his door. Saying
that he had business to attend to, he left us to amuse ourselves as
we best could.
“Now, lads,” said Jack, turning abruptly towards us, and buttoning
up his jacket as he spoke, “I’m off to see the battle. I’ve no
particular fondness for seein’ bloodshed, but I must find out the
nature o’ these fellows and see their customs with my own eyes, so
that I may be able to speak of it again, if need be,
authoritatively. It’s only six miles off, and we don’t run much
more risk than that of getting a rap with a stray stone or an over-shot arrow. Will you go?”
“To be sure we will,” said Peterkin.
“If they chance to see us we’ll cut and run for it,” added Jack.
“Dear me!” cried Peterkin, - “YOU run! thought you would scorn to
run from any one.”
“So I would, if it were my duty to fight,” returned Jack, coolly;
“but as I don’t want to fight, and don’t intend to fight, if they
offer to attack us I’ll run away like the veriest coward that ever
went by
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