In the Eastern Seas

W.H.G. Kingston

"In the Eastern Seas"

Chapter One.

The Indiaman.

“Well, Thudicumb, I hope by noon we may at last get a glimpse of the sun,” said Captain Davenport to his first officer, as they walked the deck of the Bussorah Merchant, homeward bound from the East Indies, and at that time rolling on over the long heaving seas of the Atlantic. The sky was overcast, but ever and anon a gleam of light burst forth amid the clouds, playing on the foaming crest of a wave. It was blowing hard, but had evidently been blowing much harder, of which fact the condition of the Indiaman gave evidence. A portion of the starboard bulwarks were stove in, one of her quarter boats was shattered, and other slight damages were visible.

“We must be ready for him, sir, at all events,” said the first officer, looking at his watch. “It is not far off noon now.”

“Tell Oliver to bring me my sextant,” said the captain, as the mate descended from the poop into his cabin.

Mr Thudicumb soon returned, bringing his own instrument, and followed by a boy with the captain’s. Continuing their walk, they looked anxiously every now and then at the spot in the heavens where they expected the sun to appear. They were accompanied by one who seemed to take as much interest as they did in what was going forward. When they turned, he turned; when they looked up at the sky, he looked up also; balancing himself when the ship rolled as they did, by leaning over to the opposite direction to which she was heeling. He, however, could not have afforded them any assistance in their observation, for though his eye and the expression of his countenance exhibited much sagacity, he was of the canine species—a large dog—a magnificent-looking fellow, who could, the crew declared, for he was a great favourite with them, do everything but talk—and, they might have added, take a meridional observation, or a lunar.

Mr Thudicumb again looked at his watch. “There he is, sir,” he exclaimed at length.

He and the captain stopped in their walk; their sextants were quickly at their eyes; and there they stood, their feet planted firmly on the heaving deck, in an attitude long practice alone could have enabled them to maintain. A clear space was seen in the sky, increasing rapidly, and yet not altogether blue, but the vapour which drove across it was not sufficiently thick to prevent the sun’s rays descending upon the sea.

“She has dipped, sir,” said the first officer.

“She has,” observed the captain.

The sun’s elevation was read off on the index, and the instruments were returned to their cases. The calculation was very quickly worked out on a scrap of card.

“Make it noon, Mr Thudicumb,” said the captain, as, returning the case to the young cabin-boy, he directed him to take it below. While the captain and his first officer were making their observation, a group of midshipmen had collected on the deck with their quadrants in their hands, doing their best to shoot the sun, but their less experienced eyes could make but little of it in that heavy sea; and when they came to read off their observations, they were somewhat surprised at the wonderful difference which existed among them. Stopping to listen to a few remarks made to them by the captain, they hurried off the deck to deposit their quadrants in places of safety. The dog all the time stood with his feet firmly planted on the deck, watching the captain, as if he fully understood what was going on. Captain Davenport, as he turned, patted him on the head. “You are a wise dog, Merlin,” he observed; “but you cannot take an observation yet.” Merlin wagged his tail as if he had received a compliment, or, at all events, well pleased at the notice taken of him.

The captain was a tall man of spare figure, his white locks and weather-beaten countenance making him appear considerably older than his firm, yet light and active step, seemed to warrant. His eye, too, was still full of life and fire, and his voice clear and strong, evidence of which had been given when he issued his orders in the late gale, and when, by his promptitude and decision, he had saved the ship, seemingly on the point of destruction.

Scarcely had eight bells been struck, when the voice of the boatswain from the forecastle was heard shouting, “A vessel on the lee bow, sir! A dismasted ship! It can be nothing else!”

Captain Davenport went forward, followed by Merlin.

“Where away is she, Mr Tarbox?” he asked of the boatswain.

“There, sir, you will catch her over the bumkin-head,” answered the boatswain. “I saw her again just as you stepped on the forecastle. She cannot have gone down in the meantime!”

“I hope not indeed,” said the captain, looking out eagerly in the direction towards which the boatswain pointed. At last he too caught sight of a dark object lifted on the top of a sea. “A dismasted ship; no doubt about that,” he observed. “We will keep away for her. There are probably people on board, and although it would be a difficult matter to take them off while this sea is running, we may do so if it goes down, as it has been gradually doing since daylight.”

The Indiaman stood on, now rising to the summit of a sea, now gliding into the valley below, gradually approaching the dark object which had been discovered. The boatswain had gone aloft, and quickly returned.

“No doubt about it, Captain Davenport. She is a big ship—lost her masts, no doubt, in the gale; and from the way she is rolling, I have a notion she has no small amount of water in her. If we had not sighted her, it is my opinion that those on board would be fathoms down in the ocean, as she will be before another sun rises.”

“We will do what we can to save any people on board her,” said Captain Davenport. “Get the life-boat ready for lowering, Mr Tarbox.”

“Ay, ay, sir; I am ready to go in her,” answered the boatswain.

“Perhaps Mr Thudicumb may wish to go, or the second officer; but if not, Tarbox, I would intrust her to you more readily than to anybody.”

The news that a dismasted ship was in sight brought all the passengers who were below on deck, and numerous glasses were now turned towards her. No signs, however, of any one being on board were discovered. She was a complete wreck; the masts had gone by the board, the bulwarks were stove in, the caboose and booms and everything on deck had been swept clear away. The Indiaman stood on, passing close to leeward of her.

“She is deserted, sir; little doubt about that,” said Mr Thudicumb, examining the ship. “The people thought she was going down, and took to their boats. Better have stuck to her in such a sea as they must have had to encounter. Little chance of any boat living.”

“Haul the tacks aboard then, Mr Thudicumb; down with the helm,” said the captain. “Unless for the sake of rescuing any fellow-creatures, I would not risk a boat to board her, while the sea runs as high as it now does.”

As he was speaking, Merlin had been eagerly watching the wreck; and now, stretching out his fore-feet and neck towards her, he uttered a loud mournful howl or wail, which sounded strangely wild and sad to all who heard it.

“What is the matter, Merlin?” asked the captain, bending down and patting the dog’s head.

“That dog has got more sense than many human beings,” observed the boatswain. “Now, I should not be surprised but what he knows there is somebody on board that craft—dead or dying, may be—just as well as if he saw them. If I was our skipper, I would not leave that wreck without an overhauling.”

Just then a human head was seen issuing from the companion-hatch. It was that of a young boy. He sprang on deck and waved a handkerchief wildly, apparently shouting with all his power, though his voice could not be heard amidst the roaring of the sea and the lashing of the ropes as the ship was luffed up close to the wind. Captain Davenport seized his speaking-trumpet and shouted, “We will keep by you! Do not fear!” Just then another head was seen. “A young girl!” cried several of those looking on. A mere child she seemed at that distance, her light hair blowing about in the wind.

“Bless them!” said old Tarbox; “I would go to help them if there was twice the sea there is on.”

Preparations were now made for heaving the ship to, but the captain was anxious to wait, in the hopes of the sea going down still more before night, when there might be less risk in bringing the people from off the wreck. A great risk under similar circumstances is run when those on board a ship on fire or likely to sink leap hurriedly in too great numbers into the boat alongside. In many such instances the boat has been swamped, and the lives of all in her sacrificed. Here, such a danger was not likely to occur, as no crew apparently remained on board. The question, however, was, whether the wreck would float till the sea had sufficiently gone down to enable a boat to board her without risk. As the ship gradually receded from the wreck, the young boy was seen to lift up his hands imploringly, as if to beg for assistance. At length the boatswain came aft and addressed the captain.

“If you will let me have the life-boat, sir, there are six hands ready to go in her; and I will undertake to board that craft, and bring off any people we may find alive. To my mind, from the way she rolls, she has not got many hours longer to swim; and if she was to go down, those young people we saw would have to go down in her, and that’s what my eyes would not like to watch.”

“No indeed, Tarbox,” said the captain. “Mr Thudicumb, what do you say?”

“I was going to volunteer, sir,” said the first officer; “but though I yield to no other man on board in the management of a boat, I acknowledge that Tarbox can handle one in a sea better than any man I have ever met with; and on that account, and not because I am afraid of risking my life, I yield to him.”

“Thank you, Mr Thudicumb,” said the boatswain. “I should have said the same thing of you, sir; but you have a wife and children at home, and it matters little what becomes of old Dick Tarbox.”

Once more the ship was brought up as close as she could be to the wreck, and again being hove to, the life-boat, with the six hands selected by the boatswain, was carefully lowered. And now everybody on board watched her with anxious eyes, as she pulled towards the wreck. The young lad saw her coming, and was observed to be bending down as if to announce the event to some one below. Again the little girl’s head appeared above the deck, but the lad would not allow her to come up further, evidently being afraid of her being jerked overboard—an event but too likely to occur, from the way the ship was rolling. On pulled the boat, now sinking down deep into the trough of the sea, which curled into mountain billows, and seemed about to overwhelm her; now she rose up high on the crest of a wave. Many of those who gazed at her held their breath, scarcely believing that she could possibly live amid the tumult of waters. Slowly she proceeded, guided by the well-practised hand of the old boatswain. She was close to the wreck. Now she seemed to sink far down below the deck, now to rise up, as if the next instant she would be thrown upon it. Could any human being ever manage to gain the wreck from that tossing boat? Yes, yes! a man stands up in the boat. He makes a spring! He has gained the deck, hauling himself up by a rope which he has clutched. He waves off the boat till he is ready to return to her.

Dick Tarbox was the man. He was seen to leap down the hatchway. For some time he did not appear. What could have become of him? “There he is! there he is!” shouted several voices. He came, bearing a young girl in his arms. The boat again drew near the dismasted ship. Those who looked on held their breath, for how could he manage to convey his burden to the tossing boat? He stood for a minute or more waiting, but not irresolute. His eye was watching the boat. He was calculating the rolling of the ship. He made a signal to one of the men to be ready to receive the girl. Then, quick as lightning, he leaped across the deck, and dropped her—so it seemed—into the man’s arms. The boat again kept away from the ship, and the boatswain disappeared once more down the hatchway.

“He will bring the boy this time!” But no; he came up carrying a far heavier burden—a man wrapped in a cloak, and apparently unable to help himself. Dick shouted to one of the crew to go aboard and help him. Together they got the sick man into the boat. The little girl clasped her hands in her anxiety as she saw him lowered down. Sorrowfully she stooped over him, supporting his head in her arms; forgetting, apparently, where she was, and the fearful danger to which she was still exposed. The boy had followed the boatswain, apparently with the intention of leaping into the boat by himself. Dick was seen to hold him back: then he lifted him in his arms, and, waiting for the right moment, sprang into the boat.

No one on board had watched these proceedings with more apparent eagerness than Merlin; and as the boat came alongside the ship, he ran to the gangway to receive those whom she brought. The little girl was first lifted up the side, and received by the captain, Merlin instantly coming up to lick her hands and attract her attention. She had no thought, however, for any one round her, but endeavoured to look down into the boat to watch her companions. The sick man was next hoisted up; the boy, till he was safe, refusing to leave the boat. He then, aided by Dick Tarbox, hauled himself up on deck.

“We will carry him aft, and take him at once to my cabin,” said the captain. “He looks very ill.”

This was done; the young people keeping by the sick man’s side, anxiously gazing on his countenance, apparently scarcely aware where they were, and paying no attention to any one else.

“Is he your father, young gentleman?” asked the captain, as the sick man was placed on the bed.

“Oh yes, yes!” answered the boy. “But can you do nothing for him? He is, I am afraid, very, very ill.”

At that moment the surgeon, who had been attending on a patient below, came up, and entering the cabin, looked at the sick man’s countenance and felt his pulse. The look he gave the captain was observed by the little girl: she seemed to understand it.

“Oh do, sir, tell me what is the matter with him! Will he die?” she asked, bursting into tears.

“There is no time to be lost,” observed the surgeon, hurrying away to his own cabin without answering the question.

“Our lives are in God’s hands, young lady,” said the captain, in a kind tone. “The doctor will do all he can for your papa; be assured of that.”

The surgeon instantly returned with a restorative; after taking which the sick man recovered slightly, and was able to utter a few words in a faint voice. He recognised his children, and beckoned them to approach.

“I am leaving you, I fear,” he whispered; “for I feel as I have never felt before. Walter, take care of Emily; never leave her. Think of your dear mother and me sometimes.” Then he turned his glance towards the captain. “These, sir, will be orphans before many hours have passed,” he said, in a faltering voice. “You, perhaps, are a father, and can feel for me. As a fellow-creature, you can do so. You have been the means of preserving the lives of those children; watch over them, and do what you can for them. They will tell you about themselves. I cannot speak more.”

While he was uttering these words, he seemed about to relapse into a state of insensibility. His eye was growing dim. He stretched out his hands, however, and took those of his children; and thus, almost without uttering another word, his spirit passed away.

“We will leave your father now,” said the surgeon; and made a sign to the captain, who led the boy and girl out of the cabin.

The boy seemed to understand what had happened; but there was an anxious, scared, and inquiring expression on the countenance of the little girl, which showed that even now she was not certain that her father had been taken from her.

Captain Davenport was a father, and a kind, affectionate one, and knew how to sympathise with the bereaved children. He had been in the cabin but a few minutes when a midshipman entered.

“She is sinking, sir!” he exclaimed.

Captain Davenport hurried on deck. The boy had caught the words, and followed him. Just then Merlin uttered a low, mournful howl. They were just in time to see the after-part of the dismasted ship, as, plunging head first, she went down beneath the foaming billows.

“We were but just in time to save you, my lad,” said the captain, turning to the boy, whose hand Merlin was licking, as if to congratulate him on his escape.

“Indeed you were, sir,” answered the boy; “and we are very, very grateful to you, and to that brave sailor who carried my father and Emily out of the ship, and helped me into the boat. I want to thank him more particularly, and so would my father; but oh, sir, do you think he will soon recover out of that fearful swoon? Or do, do tell me, for I did not like to ask you before my sister, is he—is he really—dead?”

The boy’s voice dropped as he spoke.

“I fear, Walter, that he is dead,” answered the captain. “But we will do our best to comfort your little sister; and so, I am sure, will you. You have reason to be thankful that he was permitted thus to die quietly in bed, and to know that your lives were spared.”

“Oh yes, yes! I know,” answered the boy, hiding his face in his hands.

It was some hours before Emily could understand that her father could never again speak to her or caress her. Her brother’s anxiety to console her probably prevented him from so poignantly feeling his own loss.

The captain and all on board treated the young orphans with the greatest kindness and consideration. The following day their father’s body was committed to its ocean grave; and Walter and Emily felt that for the future they must be all in all to each other.

“Yes,” thought Walter, as he gazed at his sister’s fair and gentle countenance, “I will watch over her—and die for her, if needs be—to protect her from harm.”

Chapter Two.

The history of Walter and Emily.

The captain and those on board were naturally anxious to know something about the young orphans, and how it happened that they and their father had been left alone on board the sinking ship.

“The people would not take poor papa in the boat, and we would not leave him,” said Emily, when the captain first spoke on the subject.

“I should think not,” said Walter. “It was very, very sad to have poor papa so ill, and no one to help him except us. The poor captain and the first officer had been washed overboard; and the surgeon was killed by the falling of the masts, when papa was hurt at the same time. He was ill, though, when we sailed; but he thought the change, and the warm climate of the country we were going to, would restore him to health. We had good reason, however, to be thankful we did not go in the boats; for scarcely had they left the ship, as I was watching them from the companion-hatch, than I saw the sea break over one of them, and down she went, the unfortunate people in her struggling for a few instants before they all sank. I was in hopes that the other, which was larger, might escape; but she had got to no great distance when it seemed to me that she went right into a curling sea. Whether she went through it and rose again I could not discover, for I saw no more of her. It was very dreadful; but I had to hurry back to papa, for I heard Emily calling me. I did not tell him what had happened, for I thought it would make him even, more sad than he was.”

The boy, overcome with his feelings, could with difficulty speak, and was for some minutes silent. He then continued:—

“The ship was the Mountaineer. We had been three weeks at sea, and had had frequent calms, when we met with the fearful gale from which she suffered so much. Papa was going out as British Consul to —, in the Brazils; and as mamma died a year ago, and he had no one to leave us with, he determined, to our great joy, that we should accompany him. Emily had been at school; but when mamma was ill she came home to stay with her, and after that papa could not hear the thoughts of again parting with her. I had been at Winchester School, and had intended going into the army; but papa lost his fortune soon after mamma’s death, and told me that I must give up all thoughts of that, as he could not purchase my commission, and I could not be in the army without money. The loss of his property tried him very much. He had to take me away from school; and he used to say he was afraid we should all die of starvation. However, when he got the appointment he was in better spirits, and Emily and I hoped we should see him once more like himself.”

“But have you no relations or friends, young gentleman?” asked the captain, in a kind tone.

“I do not know about friends,” answered Walter; “but I have some relations. Unfortunately, however, my father was not on good terms with them. His elder brother—my uncle—had quarrelled with him. Why, I do not know. But when, before we were leaving England, papa desired to be reconciled to him, he refused; and I know, from what I have heard, that he would on no account have anything to say to Emily or me.”

“But had your mother no relations?” asked Captain Davenport.

“Not many. She had, I know, a brother, and I think I recollect him when I was a little boy; but he left England many years ago, and I know has not for a long time been heard of. Papa, besides his brother, had some cousins. One, I know, is Lord Heatherly; but I never saw him, and I think papa kept up no communication with him. We now and then saw his brother, Mr Tom Heathfield—for the family name is the same as ours. He is a very good-natured, merry person, and used always to try to make us laugh when he called. And our eldest uncle had some sons, but I never met them; indeed, I am sure their papa would never have let them come to the house.”

“From all accounts, then, the only relation you know anything about is your father’s cousin, Mr Tom Heathfield. Do you know where he lives?”

Walter thought a moment. “No,” he answered; “somewhere in London, I know, and I daresay I can find out.”

“Well, we must do our best to discover him when we get on shore,” said the captain.

It was evident to him that the young people had not realised their thoroughly destitute condition. Whatever property their poor father might have had must have been lost in the Mountaineer. “However,” he thought to himself, “if the brother’s heart cannot be moved to take care of the orphans, perhaps this Mr Tom Heathfield or Lord Heatherly will do so. In the meantime, I must look after them.”

The Bussorah Merchant reached the Thames in safety, and went into the docks to discharge her cargo.

“You must come with me, my young friends, till we can find out your cousin,” said the kind captain. “My good wife, Mrs Davenport, will be very glad to see you, as will our little girl Grace. You must be content with such fare as we can offer, and you may be sure of a hearty welcome.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Walter. “Emily and I, I am sure, shall be very happy with you. Do you live in the West End of London?”

“No,” answered the captain, smiling; “I live at Poplar. It is a different sort of locality; but I have had a good many losses, and am not so well off as some masters of ships. But my life has been preserved when others have lost theirs, and I retain my health and strength. I have a good wife and an affectionate little girl, and I have therefore reason to be thankful; and so I am.”

Captain Davenport, as soon as he was at liberty, accompanied by his young charges, set off for his home. It differed, however, greatly from the sort of house Walter and Emily had been accustomed to live in. But it was very neat; with green palings in front, and neatly-painted shutters, and the whitest of stone steps leading up to the hall door. The captain had had no time to tell his wife of the guests she might expect. After, therefore, the first greetings between them were over, and he had embraced his little daughter Grace, Mrs Davenport naturally inquired who the young strangers were. No sooner had she heard their history than she gave an affectionate embrace to Emily.

“Yes, indeed, you are welcome here,” she said; “and if you are content with this house, we shall be glad to have you remain in it. And I am sure Grace will do her best to make you at home, young lady,” she said, placing the girls’ hands in each other’s.

The captain, of course, had a great deal to do on his first arrival after a long absence, and could not, therefore, go in search of Mr Tom Heathfield, Walter’s cousin. Walter acknowledged that he was not likely to find him himself, as he had but seldom been in London, and did not know his way about. All he could tell was, that he lived somewhere in the West End, and he thought he belonged to two or three clubs.

“Very likely, young gentleman,” said the captain, laughing. “However, when I can get hold of one of those books they call Court Guides, I may be able to find him.”

A week passed pleasantly enough away. Grace was very kind to Emily, and Walter was never tired of walking about the docks, and watching the large ships loading and unloading the bales and casks of goods coming and going to all parts of the world. It gave him some idea of the vast amount of commerce of London, when such a stream of merchandise was coming in and going out all day long.

At length the captain told him that he had some hours to spare, and they set off together to try and find Mr Heathfield. They got down at Charing Cross, where a bookseller allowed them to look over a Court Guide.

“Yes, that must be my cousin,” said Walter, seeing the name. “I now remember going there with my father. Yes, and those are the clubs he belongs to.”

Having put down the address, the captain and Walter at once set off to find it. They were not long in getting there. A woman opened the door.

“Mr Heathfield is not in town; he seldom is at this time,” was the answer. “He may come up for a day, or he may not; but letters addressed here will find him.”

“But can you tell me where he is?” asked Walter. “I am a relation of his.”

“As to that, he may be at Newmarket, or some other races. You know he is a sporting gentleman, and is likely to be in one place one day and in another place another. But he sends for his letters, and, as I have told you, if you like to write, one will find him.”

This was not very satisfactory information.

“I am afraid he is not likely to do much for the poor children,” thought Captain Davenport. “However, there is nothing like trying.”

He then bethought him that he would inquire the address of their uncle, whose heart might relent when he heard of the death of his brother. “If not, I will write to Lord Heatherly himself,” said the captain.

The nobleman’s address was easily found, and after some trouble the captain ascertained that of Walter’s uncle, and with this information he returned home.

“You must have patience, my boy,” he said. “If you are not tired of staying with us, we are not tired of you.”

On reaching home, the captain wrote the three letters. Several days passed by, and no answer came. At length two appeared by the same post. One was from the orphans’ uncle, stating that he had children of his own, and that he had long ceased to have any communication with his brother. He must therefore decline interfering in the matter. The other contained the words:—“Lord Heatherly presents his compliments to Mr Davenport, and not having been personally acquainted with the late Mr Heathfield for many years, must decline in any way interfering with regard to any children he may have left.”

“Oh dear me!” said Mrs Davenport, when she saw the letters. “If the poor young orphans are treated in this way by their nearest relative and by the head of their family, I am afraid we can expect very little from the only other relation we have heard of.”

“Well, my dear wife,” said the captain, “if nobody else looks after them, God intends that we shall. We must not decline the charge he has given us, but do the best we can for them.”

The following day a private cab was seen passing along the street with a sporting-looking tiger behind. The gentleman driving stopped once or twice, then turning round, brought up at Captain Davenport’s door. Down jumped the tiger, and out sprang the gentleman. Walter and Emily were in the parlour.

“Why, that is cousin Tom!” exclaimed Walter, and he ran out to open the front door.

Cousin Tom came in, and shook hands with Walter and Emily, and was soon talking away to Mrs Davenport as if he had known her all his life.

“I am very much obliged to you and to your worthy husband for all you have done for these young people,” he said. “And my poor cousin Harry, I little thought he was so soon to be cut off. However, we must not talk about those sort of things. Why, Walter, you are almost a man now. We must see what we can do for you. Your uncle Bob will not help you; I have heard all about that. We will not talk about him; and as for Heatherly, there is no help to be got from him. I am going out of town to-night, or I would have had you, Walter, come and dine with me and talk matters over. However, if your friends will look after you for a day or two longer, I hope we may settle something. I have an idea that my aunt, Lady Di Pierpoint, will take charge of Emily. I must insist upon her doing so. She mixes a good deal in the world, rouges, and is rather addicted to scandal, it is true; but I say, Emily, you must not follow her example, and you will get on very well with her. Look after her lapdogs, feed her parrots, write her notes for her, and all that sort of thing. Well, I think we may consider that settled.—And now, my good madam, I must wish you and the young people good-bye. I hope to be back in a few days with Lady Di’s answer. And as to Walter, I have no doubt about him. In the meantime, I will just beg you to take these two notes, which you will have the kindness to expend as you think best in getting a proper outfit for the young people—as I have no doubt they lost everything when the ship went down; and I should wish, if you will allow me, to repay you for the expense to which you have been put.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Mrs Davenport. “We desire no repayment; but I will gladly expend the money to the advantage of my young friends as you desire.”

“Well, well, do as you like!” exclaimed Mr Tom. “I am very much obliged to you in every way. And now, good-bye, Emily; good-bye, Walter; and I wish you farewell, madam. Present my compliments to your kind husband. I should have liked to have made his acquaintance. I hope to do so another time. I am deeply indebted to him, for I had a great regard for poor Harry. Though he might not have been very wise—none of us are; and his wife, she was an angel. Good-bye, good-bye!”

Thus rattling on, Mr Tom Heathfield ran out at the door, and jumped into his cab; the tiger skipped up behind, and off he drove.

Day after day passed by, and no news came of Mr Tom Heathfield. The packet he had left behind contained a couple of ten-pound notes, with a few words written on the paper surrounding them:—“It is all I have got; but if Constellation wins, I will send another hundred.”

Captain Davenport was now again busily engaged in preparing his ship for another voyage. She required but few repairs, so she was likely to be soon ready. He had resolved to take his wife and daughter with him; and Grace was very full of the thoughts of accompanying her father. Mrs Davenport had made two or three voyages; but Grace had not been at sea since she was a very little girl.

“I wish I was going too,” said Emily; “how delightful it would be!”

“I am sure I wish that I was going!” exclaimed Walter. “I have often thought I should like to be a sailor; and though I once should only have wished to go into the royal navy, I should now like to go anywhere with Captain Davenport.”

Week after week passed by. The Bussorah Merchant was ready for sea. A cabin had been fitted up for Mrs Davenport, and another for Grace. No news came from Mr Tom Heathfield. Captain Davenport wrote: he considered it his duty to do so. The day before he sailed, his letter came back in an enclosure, stating that Mr Tom Heathfield had broken his neck riding a steeple-chase, and that though he had wished to leave his property to his young cousin, as all would be swallowed up in paying his debts, there would be none forthcoming. Walter and Emily felt very sorry when they heard the sad end of their poor cousin, though Emily confessed to Grace she was very glad that she had not to go and live with Lady Di Pierpoint.

“Well, my young friends,” said Captain Davenport, “I have no one with whom I can leave you, and I certainly will not desert you. If, therefore, Emily would like to come and be Grace’s companion, we shall be very glad of her company; and, Walter, if you wish to come to sea and learn to be a sailor, I will undertake to instruct you as if you were my own son.”

Walter was truly glad to accept the kind captain’s offer; indeed, it would be difficult to say what else he could do.

“When we return to England,” said Captain Davenport, “we will make more inquiries about your relations, and if they still persist in refusing to acknowledge you, you will, at all events, have learned a profession, and be independent of them. After all, you will be far better off than had you been brought up in idleness, and dependent on those who might care very little for your true interests and welfare.”

Chapter Three.

Walter Heathfield’s Journal.

The Bussorah Merchant was now ready for sea. Mr Thudicumb was first mate, as he had been on the previous voyage; Dick Tarbox was boatswain; young Oliver Farwell was cabin-boy. Merlin, too, who indeed never left the ship, was on board, and welcomed my sister and me, whom he recognised the moment we appeared with signs of the greatest satisfaction. The ship was bound out to the coast of China and Japan, with a prospect of visiting several other interesting places before she returned home. I was delighted with the thoughts of all I should see, and was very glad to find on board several books descriptive of those regions. The ship came to an anchor at Gravesend, where several passengers joined her. Among them was a gentleman with very broad shoulders, a broad forehead, and light curling hair covered by a very broad-brimmed white hat. His eyes were blue and remarkably keen; he had a nose somewhat turned up; and a firm mouth, with a pleasing smile, showing a set of strong white teeth. He brought with him a number of cases and boxes; among them gun-cases, and fishing-rods, and cases which looked as if they enclosed instruments, with numerous other articles not usually carried by travellers. His business-like, quiet manner showed that he was well accustomed to move about the world. Who he could be I could not tell. Soon after he came on board he called Oliver Farwell to help him arrange his cabin; but as Oliver had other duties to attend to, I offered my services.

“Yes, my lad, I shall be very much obliged to you,” said the gentleman. “I should have liked to have got these things on board before the ship left the docks; but there was no time for that; and it is important that they should be secured before we get into a tumbling sea, from which they may receive damage.”

I observed that Mr Nicholas Hooker was painted on all the cases, and of course concluded that such was the name of the gentleman. He had a number of screws with which he fastened some of the articles to the bulkheads, and lashed others in a seamanlike fashion. There were charts and telescopes; indeed, from the various articles he had with him, I fancied that perhaps the gentleman was a naval officer. Still, as I did not see R.N. at the end of his name, I thought again that he could not be so.

At length Mr Hooker, having unpacked his books, various instruments, and other articles, begged that the cases might be stowed away below. His directions were promptly obeyed, and having surveyed his cabin, he seemed satisfied that all was in perfect order.

“Now, young gentleman,” he said, with a pleasant smile which won my confidence, “I daresay you would like to know what all these things are for. Some are for taking the latitude and longitude, ascertaining the exact position of places on the earth’s surface. Others are for measuring the height of mountains, some the temperature of the air and water, and so on. Then I have cases for creatures which move in the water or fly in the air, which walk or crawl on the earth or burrow beneath it; and I have the means of shooting them or trapping them. Those I can, I hope to preserve alive; and if not, to be able to exhibit to my scientific friends, when I return home, the forms of some perfect, the skins of others, and the skeletons of others. And now, having told you thus much, I must leave you to guess what I profess myself to be. One thing I can tell you, I know very, very little compared to what there is to be known. I hope to gain more knowledge but I am very well aware that, gain all I can, I can but add a very small portion to what is already known, and a still smaller compared to what is to be ascertained. Here comes the captain. We are old friends, and that induced me to select this ship for my voyage. Are you his son?”

“No, sir,” I answered; “but he is a very kind friend of mine; and were it not for him, I know not what would have become of me and my sister.”

The Bussorah Merchant had a fine passage down Channel, and taking her departure from the Land’s End, stood across the Bay of Biscay. Four days afterwards the captain told us that we were in the latitude of Cape Finisterre, but no land was to be seen. Another eight days, with the wind abeam, carried us into the neighbourhood of the island of Madeira.

“Would not it be as well to have a look at it, sir,” I said, “and then we shall better know where we are.”

The captain smiled. “That is not at all necessary,” he answered. “By the observations we are able to take with the perfect instruments we possess, we are able at all times to ascertain our exact position on the ocean; and we might thus sail round either Cape Horn or the Cape of Good Hope to New South Wales without once sighting land till we were about to enter Port Jackson.”

“It is very wonderful,” I said. “What puzzles me is how you can find the longitude. I know you get the latitude by seeing how high the sun is above the horizon at noon, and then with the aid of the nautical almanac you can easily work out the calculation.”

“With the aid of the chronometer we can as easily ascertain the longitude, though the calculation is a little longer,” answered Captain Davenport. “I can explain it to you more easily. The chronometer shows us the exact time at Greenwich. We know by our nautical almanac that, at a certain hour on a certain day, the sun will have attained at Greenwich a certain altitude. When on that day and that hour we find that the sun is so many minutes behind hand in attaining that altitude, we know we must be a certain distance further to the west, as, the world turning from west to east, the more westerly a place is the longer it will be before the sun appears there. If, on the contrary, we find the sun has gained a fixed altitude some time before it would have gained that altitude at Greenwich, we know that we must be to the east of Greenwich, or have met the sun sooner than the people at Greenwich have done. Thus, the further we sail east day after day, the sooner we see the sun; while the further we sail west, the longer the time which passes before he shines upon us.”

“I think I have an idea about it now, sir,” I exclaimed; “and I should be very much obliged if you will show me how to take an observation and to make use of the books, as well as to work out the calculations. Why, may I ask, do you cry Stop, sir, to the second officer or to Mr Thudicumb, who are watching the chronometer while you are taking an observation?”

“That they may mark the exact moment shown on the chronometer, while I mark the sun’s elevation as shown on the index of the sextant.”

“But then you take observations at night sometimes, sir, looking at the moon or the stars?”

“We do that to discover the distance which one star appears from another at a certain hour, or their elevation above the horizon. The object is the same as that for which we take an observation of the sun, though the calculation is rather more intricate.”

After this I set to work, and whenever the captain and his mates took an observation, I took one also, although I was, I must own, at first very far from correct. Sometimes my observation was imperfect; at other times I made mistakes in the calculation.

At length the ship, which had been favoured with a breeze more or less strong ever since she left England, was becalmed. Sometimes she got a little wind which lasted for an hour or two, and then died away; then light airs came, first from one quarter, then from another, and the crew were constantly employed in bracing up, or squaring away the yards.

“It is always like this in these Horse Latitudes,” said the boatswain as he walked the forecastle, where I had gone to have a talk with him.

“Why do you call them ‘Horse Latitudes?’” I asked, as I listened to his remarks.

“Why, I have heard say that they were so called by the Yankees, or the people of New England, before they were separated from Old England. They used to send out deckloads of horses to the West Indies, and they were very often kept becalmed so long in these latitudes that their water grew scarce, and to save the lives of some of the horses they were obliged to throw the others overboard; so that is how this part of the ocean came to be called the ‘Horse Latitudes.’”

I afterwards told Mr Hooker what Tarbox had said.

“A more scientific name would be the Tropic of Cancer,” he answered. “We had a good breeze before we entered it, but often the wind to the north of where we now are is very variable. After we have passed this belt of calm and light airs we shall get into the regions of the north-east trades, which will carry us along at a fine rate till we get into the very worst part of the ocean for trying a person’s temper, called the Doldrums. Remember to ask me more about it when we get there. You will remember, then, the Variables are to the north of the Tropic of Cancer. The ‘Horse Latitudes’ are on either side of the Tropic. Then we get into the north-east trade-winds, which carry us up to the Doldrums about the Equator; and passing through them with more or less trial of temper, we get into the south-east trade-winds, which we shall have to cross with our tacks aboard. Then we shall probably find calms about the Tropic of Capricorn; after which, without once sighting land, we may very likely find a breeze, more or less favourable, but seldom against us, which will carry us through the Straits of Sunda, between Java and Sumatra, to the west of the great island of Borneo, right away to the north, through the China sea, leaving the Philippine Islands on our right hand, up to Japan. I will have a talk with you another day about those East India Islands, for they are very curious, and are probably less generally known than most parts of the world.”

The events occurred very much as Mr Hooker had predicted. For nearly a whole week our ship lay with her head sometimes one way, sometimes another, the sails flapping against the masts. Then she got a breeze which carried her a few miles further to the south, and people’s spirits began to rise, soon again to fall when once more the sails would give a loud flap, and hang down without a particle of wind in them. At length, however, they once more bulged out. The yards were squared away. The captain walked the deck with a more elastic step than for the last week had been the case, and on the ship went hour after hour, the breeze rather increasing than lessening.

“We are in the north-east trades,” observed Mr Hooker. “Little fear now, for another two weeks or so we shall have a fine run of it.”

Three day after this, a seaman from aloft shouted out, “Land ahead!”

“Ay, ay,” answered Mr Thudicumb, who had charge of the deck. “It is land that will not hurt us, though;” and he continued to let the ship run on in the course she had been steering.

Curious to know what had attracted the man’s attention, I went aloft, and there I saw spread out on the surface of the calm ocean, what looked like a dark field, but little raised, however, above the water. On returning on deck, I told the first officer that I really thought there must be land ahead.

“No, Walter, no fear of that,” answered Mr Thudicumb; “we are crossing the Sargasso Sea. You will observe that it is merely sea-weed and drift-wood collected in this spot from all parts of the ocean. The currents and winds bring it, but why this place is selected I do not exactly know. In a calm it might bother us, but we shall only pass through a small portion of it, and there is wind enough to send us along in spite of the obstruction it may offer. We must get a bucket ready, for Mr Hooker will be anxious to have some of it up on deck, that he may examine the creatures who live upon it. In the Pacific there is a collection of the same sort, and people who could not otherwise for want of fuel inhabit some of the islands in that region, are enabled to do so in consequence of the supply of drift-wood it brings them.”

The ship, soon clear of the Sargasso Sea, glided on proudly, with all sail set below and aloft. The weather was delightful; the passengers constantly on deck. Emily and Grace were very happy together, for everything was new and interesting. They had plenty of employment; for Mrs Davenport, knowing what a sea voyage is, had brought work of all sorts. And then they had books; and they were not above running about the deck, and playing at ball occasionally, and Les Graces, and other games suitable for ship-board.

Thus day after day passed pleasantly by: the sea sparkling, the sky bright, or occasionally mottled with light clouds. One morning, however, when they came on deck expecting to see the blue sky above their heads, they saw only a thick canopy of clouds. The sails were flapping against the masts; the air was oppressive. There the ship lay, her head moving now in one direction, now in another. Those who had before been full of life and spirits began to complain of lassitude and weariness. The seamen no longer moved actively about the decks, but went sauntering along when called upon to perform any duty. The heat grew greater and greater. The iron about the ship was unpleasant to touch. The pitch bubbled in the seams of the deck and stuck to the feet. Emily and Grace no longer wished to play at ball, or Les Graces, or any other game. Even Merlin went disconsolately up and down the decks, as if he thought something serious was going to happen. I felt as I had seldom felt before.

“Are we going to have a storm, sir?” I asked of the captain. “I have read that storms are apt to come on after weather such as we now have.”

“I do not expect one,” answered Captain Davenport, “though we may possibly have a squall of a few hours’ duration; and I should not be sorry for it, if it would carry us out of this region. We are now in the Doldrums.”

“Not a bad name, considering the condition of all us poor mortals on board,” observed Mr Hooker.

“We are now under the cloud ring which encircles this part of the earth. God has placed these clouds above our heads in this region for a particular purpose. You will observe that the thermometer and barometer stand lower under this cloud ring than they do on either side of it. The clouds not only promote the precipitation which takes place in this region, but they also cause the rains to fall on places where they are most required, shading the surface from which the heating rays of the sun are to be excluded, and thus giving tone to the atmospherical circulation of the world and vigour to its vegetation. You have often, when the sun is sending his rays with great heat down on the earth, seen the atmosphere dancing, as it were, and trembling. This appearance is caused by the ascending and descending columns of air. The cloud ring creates on a greater scale this circulation of the atmosphere; indeed, the more we examine the phenomena of Nature, the more we shall discover the hand of a directing Providence, in suiting all things for the convenience and use of the beings placed by Him on the earth.”

Day after day the ship remained in this calm region with a cloudy sky. People began to feel ill; and some fancied that as they were going further south the heat would increase, and could scarcely understand that as they proceeded the atmosphere would again become cold. Captain Davenport and the officers were on the watch to make use of every breath of air which would forward the ship on her course; and at length she once more got the breeze, and those who had before been complaining of lassitude and illness suddenly revived and came on deck to enjoy the renovating and refreshing breeze. The sky was clear; the sea bright and sparkling as before. Cheerful countenances were everywhere visible, instead of the weary, downcast looks which most of those on board had worn for the previous ten days. The only person who never seemed depressed was Mr Hooker. When not taking exercise on deck, he always had a volume in his hand, from which he was constantly making notes into his pocket-book.

“You see, my young friend,” he said to me one day, “I am anxious to ascertain what others have known, because all that man can aim at is to increase the stock of knowledge possessed by his fellow-men.”

The varied changes of the ocean, and the creatures which appeared beneath its surface, and occasionally above it, afforded us an unfailing source of interest. On a bright morning I was engaged with some work by the side of the boatswain when I heard Grace cry out—

“Oh, look—look what funny birds!”

“Why, miss, those are not birds, unless they may be called water birds; those are flying-fish,” said Mr Tarbox, who had come with me to the ship’s side.

Others, with Mr Hooker, came also, looking on at the curious sight. Numbers of fish with wings, or more properly fins, as long as their bodies, were rising out of the water and darting along for a considerable distance above the surface, again, however, to fall helplessly into their native element. Directly after them, in pursuit, appeared several large fish—now one of the latter leaped half out of the water, now another, seldom failing to catch one of the beautiful creatures in its huge jaws.

“The dolphins are getting a fine banquet,” I heard Mr Hooker remark. “The poor dactylopteri are the sufferers; but they do not fall a prey to their persecutors without a brave attempt to escape. See, no sooner have they wetted their wings than they are out of the water again, and will lead them a long chase, till the dolphins are wearied out.”

We watched the pursuers and pursued till they were lost to sight in the distance.

The ship once clear of the Doldrums, met the steady trade-wind blowing from the south-east. With her tacks aboard, she stood away towards the South American coast. When I went on deck at night, I observed a change in the appearance of the constellations; and now the beautiful one of the Southern Cross became every day clearer, rising as it were in the sky. The magellhenic clouds also came in sight, showing that the ship was now in the southern hemisphere. Frequently patches of light were passed in the water; caused, Mr Hooker told me, by the pyrosoma. They exhibited a beautiful pale silvery light; but when they were taken out of the water the light disappeared, till any particular part of the creature was touched, when the light again burst forth at that point, pervading the whole animal mass.

The Bussorah Merchant did not, however, as many ships do, touch at Rio de Janeiro; but passing through another belt of calms at the Tropic of Capricorn, kept away eastward towards the Cape of Good Hope. One evening, while I was keeping watch under the first officer—for I was considered fit to take regular duty on board—the ship running at the rate of four or five knots an hour through the water, I heard a sound as if substances were falling upon the deck. As I went to windward, a large dark object, wet and cold, struck me on the shoulder, and then fell down. I instantly sung out; when the boatswain, who was on deck, brought a lantern; and there, to the surprise of all of us, a dozen or more cuttle fish were found, which had sprung over the weather bulwark.

“Well,” exclaimed Mr Tarbox, “I never did see such a thing as this before.”

Mr Hooker, however, said that he had heard of it, as the creatures can spring an immense distance. “I have known some,” he said, “to spring right over a ship; though, certainly, to look at them, it is difficult to ascertain their means of rising out of the water.”

The island of Tristan da Cunha was sighted, looming in the evening light like some huge monster rising out of the ocean. Looking over the sides the water appeared unusually clear; and I could see, far down, the fish swimming about by the side of the ship. Even Mr Hooker, however, did not succeed in catching any. The stormy petrel now made its appearance; and I and Emily and Grace were delighted soon afterwards to see a magnificent white bird with outstretched wings following the ship. “An albatross! an albatross!” I shouted, for I guessed at once what it was. Mr Hooker said he wished to catch two or three and prepare them to send back to England by the Bussorah Merchant. He accordingly made preparations to catch them.

“I should not like to shoot one though,” I remarked. “You remember what became of the ‘Ancient Mariner’ who shot an albatross; how his ship floated all alone on the ocean day after day, and week after week, and month after month, till all on board had died and he alone remained.”

“Oh no; pray don’t!” exclaimed Emily, “lest so dreadful a fate should overtake us.”

“It is only a fancy of the poet’s, perhaps,” I remarked. “At the same time I like to try and believe it.”

“I hope the same fate does not overtake those who catch the bird with a bait. It is his own fault, recollect, if he swallows it,” said Mr Hooker, who had now got a strong line with a hook and a piece of meat on it, with a float to keep it from sinking. This he now veered astern. I could not help admiring the wondrous power exhibited by the bird as it glided on without flapping its wings. Now one was seen to dash down at a piece of refuse which the cook had thrown overboard, slowly again to rise and then to follow the ship, apparently without the slightest exertion.

“That gives me an idea,” said Mr Hooker, throwing a large piece of fat overboard before he let go his baited hook. Again the albatross darted down on it; and then, without rising again, swam vigorously after the baited hook.

“There—he has snapped it up!” I exclaimed.

Instantly the bird found the obstruction. When the sailors who had come aft began to attempt to haul him in, out went his wings, with which he endeavoured to hold himself back, offering a powerful resistance to the line. Although three men were pulling away with might and main, yet the bird could not be drawn nearer the stern; and, at length, crack went the line, and off it flew with the hook and the remainder of the line in its mouth.

“Poor creature! I am afraid it will die a miserable death, instead of speedily being put out of its sufferings, as it would have been had it more wisely come on board,” observed Mr Hooker. “However, we must get another line and take care there is no flaw in it.”

The passengers now amused themselves by throwing bits of meat overboard, and seeing the albatrosses pounce down and snap up the tempting morsels. At last Mr Hooker’s fresh line was got ready. No sooner had the bait reached the water than down pounced a bird upon it, rising immediately with the hook in his mouth. This time the sailors, instead of pulling the line up, had to haul it down, just as a paper kite is hauled down from the sky; and, at length, by running forward, the huge bird was brought on deck. Still it fought bravely with its wings, which it would have been dangerous for any one to have approached. At length Mr Hooker put an end to its sufferings by a blow from a boat’s stretcher. The other albatrosses, in no way disconcerted by the disappearance of their companion, still followed the ship. Two more were caught; one hauled out of the water, the other hauled on deck like the first.

A young gentleman going out to Japan then made his appearance with a gun in his hand; and in spite of my warnings of what might be our fate should he kill one, began firing away at the birds. Even a practised marksman would not have found it easy to hit one of them, although they were in no way scared by the report of the gun. At length, however, a bullet struck one of them on the head, just as he descended into the water. In an instant down pounced his companions, driving their beaks into the dead body; and in a few minutes, while it still remained in sight, they had torn it almost to pieces.

“I hope no harm will come of that shot of yours,” I said to the young civilian; “but look out!”

The young gentleman laughed, and said he did not believe in such nonsense. Mr Hooker was soon busily employed in skinning his albatrosses and preparing the skins for stuffing.

Chapter Four.

I perform a satisfactory exploit.

Scarcely had the albatross been shot, than the wind, which had hitherto been moderate, increased considerably, and in a short time we had two reefs in our topsails. The weather, however, was in other respects fine, and away the ship went, careering over the foaming seas like a high-bred hunter, dashing them aside as she rushed onward on her course. There was something very exhilarating in the movement. The air, too, was bracing, and everybody seemed in high spirits. As I happened to pass the caboose, however, I heard Potto Jumbo, the black cook, grumbling greatly. Some one had told him that he would have to roast one of the albatrosses for dinner. Although generally a very merry, good-natured fellow, this had made him excessively irate.

“No good ever came from shooting albatross!” I heard him exclaim. “Dey like to live as much as man. Dey love freedom. Soar high, high up in de sky, den swoop down, and fly along de foaming waves. Ah, if I had wings like dem, I no peel potatoes and boil soup for ship’s company!”

He looked up, as he spoke, towards the magnificent birds which ever and anon appeared high above the ship’s bulwarks, as they darted forward as if to show at how far greater a rate they could dart through the air than she could glide over the ocean.

“Ah, you once slave, Potto Jumbo! Fancy you flying with white wings! Ha, ha, ha!”

This remark was made by a dark-skinned native of the East, who was standing at the time near the caboose. He was the serang of the Lascars, of whom we had a dozen on board. Ali Tomba was his name. He and Potto Jumbo could not abide each other, so it seemed. His dark countenance, with high cheek-bones and fierce eyes, was far from prepossessing, though his figure was well-formed; his shoulders broad, with a small waist, and muscular arms and legs, denoting great strength and activity. His hands and feet were wonderfully small, considering the work to which they had been put from his earliest days. He and his men wore their Eastern dress, consisting of shirt and jacket, and a sort of kilt formed from a circular piece of plaid, a scarf worn over the shoulders, which served as a covering in bad weather, or could be wrapped round the arm for a shield in battle. A red cotton handkerchief, generally well stiffened, was their usual head-dress. They were remarkably active fellows aloft, and few things which an English sailor could do they would not venture to undertake. However, neither Ali nor his men were favourites on board. They obeyed the superior officers readily enough, but I observed that when Mr Tarbox directed them to do anything, they did it in a sulky way. Why this was I could not make out.—Ali stood by, bantering the cook about his remark. Potto Jumbo had taken a liking to me. He had been on board the ship in her former voyage, and I believe knew my history. He himself was deserted—without friends in the world—and this gave him a fellow feeling, as he considered that his case was similar to mine. I had an idea, indeed, that there was more in Potto Jumbo than appeared. Though he had a warm and quick temper, he was evidently kind-hearted I judged it by the way he treated the animals on board. Merlin, especially, was a favourite of his, and he took good care that he should never be without a plentiful dinner. Even in the way he put the dog’s food down he showed his kind disposition; and while he was mixing up the mess and Merlin stood by wagging his tail and licking his lips, Potto Jumbo always cast a kind glance downwards at his four-footed friend, and generally had a pleasant word to give him into the bargain.

For Oliver Farwell, however, he had a greater regard than for anybody on board. I rather think because he more than any one else seemed to require sympathy and protection. Though the boy had plenty of spirit, he seemed scarcely fitted for the rough life on board ship. The other boys, when they could do so without being seen by Potto Jumbo, amused themselves by ridiculing and teasing Oliver. They seemed to delight in playing him all sorts of tricks, and very often pretty rough ones too. I had never spoken much to Oliver, though I observed that whenever Mr Hooker was describing anything, Oliver, if he could do so without impropriety, stopped and listened, and seemed to take great interest in what was said. When work was over, I often saw him in the pantry reading. Not only on Sundays, but every day nearly, it seemed to me, he read the Bible at odd moments; indeed, a sailor at sea, unless he takes odd moments for reading, may never read at all. Oliver had not only his duties as a cabin-boy to attend to, but as he wished to become a sailor, and the captain desired that he should become one, he was frequently employed on deck.

At the moment I am describing, Oliver Farwell had gone forward, and with several other boys was in the fore-rigging. What they were about I do not remember, but, looking up, I saw they were skylarking, and it seemed as if the others were trying to play Oliver some trick. Be that as it may, all of a sudden I saw one of them fall from aloft. I thought it was Oliver. Of course it ought not to have made any difference to me who it was. I expected that he would be killed, but he struck the hammock nettings, and bounded overboard. I did not stop a moment to think. It did not occur to me that it would take a long time to heave the ship to, and to lower a boat, and with the heavy sea running the operation would be a difficult and dangerous one, and that it would be equally difficult to pick anybody out of the water. I had been noted at school for being a good swimmer, and had, just before I left, saved the life of a school-fellow who had got out of his depth, and been carried out a good way by the current. I had followed him, dived after he had sank, and brought him to the surface, and then hauled him on to the bank of the river where we were bathing. I remembered this, or perhaps I should say I did not think about anything but the one idea of saving the life of a fellow-creature. I was lightly clad. Throwing off my jacket, before Potto Jumbo could cry out, or any one else attempt to stop me, I was overboard. I was in the water almost as soon as the cry of “A man overboard!” was raised.

A glance aloft showed me that it was Oliver Farwell who had fallen. As I reached the water I could see him on the top of a wave, just as the ship’s quarter glided past me. I shouted out to him, and swam forward. I now found how different it was swimming in smooth water and swimming in the heavy sea there was running. At the same time I had been accustomed to fresh water, which is less buoyant than salt, and thus I felt myself greatly supported.

The instant the cry of “A man overboard!” was raised, a life-buoy was let go. It fell some distance from me. I doubted whether I should swim to that and tow it to Oliver, or go to Oliver first and try to get him up to it. My fear was that Oliver would sink before I could reach him. I determined to get hold of Oliver. I could hear the cries of the people on board as they watched me, encouraging me in my attempt. I had scarcely been in the water ten minutes when I heard a peculiar rushing sound, and turning round my head saw the long wings of an enormous albatross passing close above me. A blow from its beak would have been fatal. I looked towards Oliver more anxiously than ever, fearing that, passing me, it might strike him. I shouted to him, and told him to shout too, hoping that the noise might scare off the bird. Others, however, came sweeping by. Again a wing almost touched my head. Diving, I knew, would have been of no use, for the creature might have followed me far lower than I could have sunk. Still I swam on.

I heard another shout, and as I rose to the top of a wave I saw just astern of the ship a black head and face—it was Potto Jumbo. Above his head he waved a long knife. He intended it as a signal that he was coming to my assistance. At the same instant a loud bark came from the stern of the ship, and I saw Merlin, who appeared one moment at the taffrail, and the next leaped over into the foaming ocean. Nearer and nearer he approached. I was more anxious for him than for my human friend, as I was afraid the albatrosses would attack him, and he had no means of defending himself. Although I had followed Oliver almost immediately into the water, it seemed a long time before I could get up to him. A curling wave rolled towards him; he was buried beneath it. I thought he had sunk for ever. I darted forward, and caught sight of him just beneath the surface. I seized him by the collar of his jacket, and together we rose to the surface. He was still conscious.

“Throw yourself on your back!” I cried. I helped him to do so. And now I struck out for the life-buoy. A sea providentially threw it towards us. Sooner than I could have expected I had hold of it, and had placed one of the beckets in Oliver’s hands. Not a moment too soon. I turned my glance upward for an instant at the bright blue sky, out of which the hot sun shone on the sparkling waters. Suddenly a dark shadow seemed to intervene. I heard a rushing sound, distinct amid the roar of the waves, and, to my horror, I saw close above me a huge pair of white wings, from which projected the head and formidable beak of a bird. He was darting towards me. A blow from that beak might have struck either of us senseless. The only means of defence I could think of was my shoe. I pulled it from my foot to ward off the blow. The bird seized it, and, as if content with his prize, off he flew. A shout of applause from Potto Jumbo reached us, and in another minute he and Merlin got up to the life-buoy. A sea was on the point of taking off Oliver, but Merlin seized him by the collar, and dragged him back within my reach. Satisfied for the moment, he kept swimming round and round us, as if prepared to render any assistance which might be required. I was indeed thankful that he had come, for I could with difficulty help Oliver to hold on to the life-buoy. Another, and another bird flew towards us, but whether frightened at our shouts, or the flourish of Potto Jumbo’s sharp blade, I do not know, but, circling round, they flew off again as if in search of other prey.

We could now see the ship hove to. A boat was lowered, but so long was she before shoving off, so it seemed to me, that we were afraid some accident had happened. One idea occurred to me while in the water. Should I be lost, what would become of Emily? I thought of the prayer of the sinking master of the ship in Falconer’s “Shipwreck,” and I prayed for her I loved best on earth, as many a seaman undoubtedly has prayed, when tossing on the foaming waves. Still I had no fears; I knew that that prayer would be heard.

“Keep up, Massa Walter! Keep up!” cried Potto Jumbo, as he helped me to hold our companion on to the life-buoy, and saw that I indeed required aid myself. “Keep up, Massa Walter! boat soon come. See, see! dere she is away from the ship! Hurrah! Never say die! See, she comes! Joe Tarbox or the first mate in her. Never fear! Hurrah, hurrah!”

Thus he continued shouting, for the double purpose of keeping up our spirits, and of scaring away the albatrosses. Now, at length, I saw that the boat was clear of the ship. On she came. Now she appeared on the summit of a foaming sea, now she was hid from view in the trough below it; then again she came in sight, for when she was sinking we at the same time were rising in most instances, and could therefore look over the intervening seas. Still the time seemed very long. It required careful management to get near the life-buoy without striking us. To pick up one person was difficult, but to take up three the risk was far greater.

“You go first!” cried Potto Jumbo, as the boat approached.

“No, no,” I said; “let Oliver be taken in. He is almost drowned as it is.”

We could see the boat’s bows almost above us. It seemed as if the next instant she would come down like a huge hammer upon our heads. But Joe Tarbox knew well what he was about, and turned her head aside, while a strong arm stretched forth, seized hold of Oliver as Potto Jumbo held him up, and he was safe on board. My companion insisted on my going next. Again the boat, which had been driven off by the sea, approached us.

“Quick! quick!” cried Joe. “Have them both in at once!”

I was nearest my friend, and seizing hold of me he hauled me in over the quarter, while Potto sprang to the side, and was dragged in by the other men. Merlin waited till he saw us both on board, and not till then did he push for the boat, with his snout lifted up as if asking for assistance. Ready hands were stretched out to him, and with their help he quickly scrambled on board, and made his way aft to the stern-sheets, where he looked into my face as if to inquire whether I was all right.

“We must have the life-buoy, though,” cried Joe; “for another of us may be falling overboard before long.”

As there was no danger of injuring the life-buoy, that was quickly got on board. And now commenced our return to the ship. It required careful steering to make our way amid those heavy seas, and still more dangerous was it to get alongside. Oliver, who was scarcely conscious, was first hoisted up. I was very glad of assistance to get up too; for though I did not feel fatigued, my strength had really almost gone. No sooner had I reached the deck than I found myself in Emily’s arms.

“Dear, dear Walter!” she exclaimed; “you brave boy; and yet—” and she burst into tears.

Mrs Davenport and Grace were close behind her. “You must come below, Walter—come below and get off your wet things!” they exclaimed.

Merlin followed Potto Jumbo on deck, and, giving himself a thorough shaking, came aft, wagging his tail, to receive the approving pats of his friends; while the black cook, casting a look behind him, which seemed to say that he was indifferent to the compliments which might have been paid him, made his way forward into the fore-peak to shift his wet clothes.

I will not repeat the complimentary things which were said to me by the passengers. Mr Hooker wrung my hand.

“It was well and bravely done, Walter,” he exclaimed. “I am glad to see that you have got it in you.”

“Oh! I did not think about it,” I answered honestly. “I once before picked a fellow out of the water, so I thought I ought to try to do it again. I know there are a good many people who cannot swim, and I hoped that I could do it.”

I quickly had my wet things off, and made my appearance again on deck, not much the worse for my exertions, though perhaps my hand did tremble a little; and I was not sorry when the captain asked me into the cuddy-cabin, and gave me a glass of wine.

“I am thankful that you saved that poor boy, Walter,” he said, giving me one of his kind looks. “I should be deeply grieved to lose him. He is the only son of a widowed mother, and her heart would have been broken had he been lost. He had shipped on board a vessel bound for the coast of Africa, when I found him, and persuaded the captain to let him come aboard my ship; for the crew were a rough lot, and he would have learned no good among them, while the risk of losing his life on the coast would have been very great. His poor mother had seen better days, I found. I do not know much of her history, but I know she brought up two daughters, and gave them a good education, and she had done in the same way all she could for this boy; but I believe that her means failed her, and she was then unable to pay for his instruction, so that he only got what she herself could give him. The boy’s whole heart had been set on going to sea, little knowing, of course, what he would have to go through.”

Soon after we came on board, it began to blow much harder; and we had good reason to be thankful that the accident had not happened later in the day. I was, after this event, made a good deal of on board. The captain observed that I ran a considerable risk of being spoiled. It was not fair, indeed, that I should get all the praise, when the black cook had also behaved in a gallant manner. Indeed, if it had not been for him, I suspect that the albatrosses would have finished both Oliver and me before the boat could have got up to us.

“Very glad you escaped, Massa Walter,” said Potto Jumbo, the following day. “Dear me! I jump overboard twice as much sea as dat!” he added, when I told him how thankful I was to him. “Me fight shark with one big knife, and cut him under the t’roat and kill him. Potto Jumbo one ’phibious animal, so doctor once say to me. I swim in de water like porpoise, and climb tree like monkey. Ah! you see de monkeys when we get out dere,” and Potto Jumbo pointed eastward. “Ah! dat one fine country, only little too hot sometimes for lily-white skins;” and Potto Jumbo grinned from ear to ear, as if congratulating himself that his own dark covering was impervious to the sun’s rays of that or any other region.

Potto Jumbo’s chief friend was an English seaman—Roger Trew by name. Roger was short and stout, with wonderfully long arms, and of immense strength; but he never put it forth except in the way of duty, and was on ordinary occasions as mild and gentle as a lamb. I believe Potto Jumbo admired him because he had the power of knocking any man down on board who might offend him, and yet did not use it. The captain considered Trew a good seaman; and so, I know, did Joe Tarbox. His figure did not appear well suited for going aloft, and yet no man could more quickly overhaul the weather earing in a heavy gale than he could. I have said sufficient about the ship’s company for the present. I do not mention others, because there was nothing very remarkable about them. I had been doing my best to become a seaman ever since I stepped on board, both by making myself acquainted with every manoeuvre performed, and learning the arts of knotting and splicing, reefing and steering, as well as studying navigation. The captain told me that he was well pleased with my progress, and this encouraged me to persevere. My great ambition was to learn a profession, and thus to be independent. It is what all boys should aim at. I had originally no particular taste for the sea; but having chosen it, I was determined to be a thorough sailor. How many among my schoolfellows could not make up their minds what to be, or did not seem to think that it was necessary to be something or other. Now my idea was, and is stronger now, that every person ought to possess some especial knowledge of a profession, calling, or trade, by the practice of which he can maintain himself. If all boys and lads were impressed with this important practical truth, how many might be saved from ruin, from “going to the dogs,” as the phrase is, simply because they have no honest means of supporting themselves. I say this here, because I may otherwise forget to say it elsewhere, and I am very anxious to impress it on the minds of my readers. We had two men on board the Bussorah Merchant who had been at good schools, and at a university, but had failed to benefit by their advantages. They had had money—one, indeed, several hundreds a year—but they had dissipated the whole of it, and had been wandering about the streets of London for several months utterly penniless, till they shipped as seaman before the mast on board a ship bound round Cape Horn. After knocking about in the Pacific for some years, they had returned home no richer than when they went out, and were glad immediately to ship aboard us. From their appearance and manners I should not have suspected what they had been, till one day I heard one of them quoting “Horace” to the other. He was rather surprised when I capped the verse; and by degrees, having gained their confidence, they gave me the account I now repeat, with a great many more circumstances which I do not consider it necessary to narrate. Poor fellows, they had been so thoroughly accustomed to the rough ways of the roughest of seamen, that I suspect they had lost all taste for a more refined style of life. So I say to my young readers, whatever you do, fix upon a profession, and try to make yourself thoroughly competent to fill it. Do not rest or flag till you have done so; and never for a moment suppose that you will have any permanent enjoyment in an idle life.

We had got nearly half-way across the Indian Ocean, when, one day as I was aloft, I saw in the far distance an object which looked like a log of wood, with a tiny white sail appearing above it. I hailed the deck, and Mr Thudicumb bringing his glass, came up to look at it. After some time it was reported to the captain, and the ship was kept away towards it. As we approached, Mr Thudicumb said it appeared to him like a canoe; but though she seemed to be steering steadily before the wind, no one could be seen aboard her.

Chapter Five.

Suspicious behaviour of the Lascars.

Numerous telescopes were turned towards the object I have described. “I see a man’s head!” cried one. “Yes; and his shoulders!” exclaimed another. “He is leaning back in the stern of the canoe, steering with a paddle.” He had not discovered us, though, for on he went careering over the seas as unconcernedly as if he were not some hundreds of miles away from land.

In a short time we were abreast of the canoe, passing her to leeward. A dark-skinned man, lightly clad, sat in the stern steering with an oar. His sail was a piece of calico spread on a slender yard, the mast being scarcely thicker than the yard. Not till we were close to him did he perceive us. Lifting up his hands towards the ship, he pointed to his mouth, making an imploring gesture at the same time. Apparently he was trying to speak, but his voice was too weak to be heard. Still he sat as before, not attempting to rise and lower the sail; but on went the light canoe, dancing from wave to wave, now gliding down from the top of one, quickly to mount to the summit of another.

“I doubt, sir, whether he has got the strength to move,” said Mr Thudicumb to the captain. “Or he is afraid of his canoe broaching to, should he attempt to leave the helm.”

“We must run on, and heave to for him,” said Captain Davenport. “We can then lower a boat and pick him up. It is as you suppose, Thudicumb; I have no doubt about it.”

The poor occupant of the canoe made a gesture of despair as he saw the ship leaving him astern. Apparently he did not understand the meaning of the words addressed to him through the captain’s speaking-trumpet. Still he sat as before, his eyes kept constantly ahead, while with one arm he directed the course of his canoe. She flew so fast that we had to get a considerable distance ahead before we hove to. A boat was then lowered, into which Mr Tarbox and six stout hands jumped for the purpose of intercepting the approaching canoe. The boat had only just time to get ready, with her head in the direction towards which the canoe was sailing, when she was up to her. We watched her anxiously from the ship. She was soon alongside the boat. Several strong hands seized her, while the occupant was lifted out and placed in the stern-sheets of the boat. Quick as lightning the canoe was passed astern and secured, and the boat pulled back towards the ship. With the heavy sea there was running, it was a difficult matter to get alongside, and still more so to lift up a helpless person without risk of injury. By the management of the boatswain, however, helped by those above, the dark-skinned stranger was soon lifted up on deck. He was too weak to speak, but he had still consciousness sufficient to point to his lips. Soup for the passengers’ luncheon was just being brought aft. A little was immediately poured down his throat. It had the effect of reviving him somewhat, and he uttered a few words, but none of those standing round were able to comprehend their meaning. The canoe was safely got on board and examined. Not a particle of food was found, but in the bottom of a small cask there remained about half a pint of water. The wood, however, from the sides of the canoe had been scraped off.

“That is what the poor fellow has been living on,” observed Tarbox. “Hard fare, to be sure. It would not help much to keep an Englishman’s soul in his body; but it is wonderful what these black fellows can live on.”

The canoe was about eighteen feet long, cut out of a single log, worked very fine, with wash-boards nailed on above. It seemed surprising that she could have gone through the heavy sea which had been running for some days past. Her owner was carried below, and after a little more food had been given him, he fell fast asleep.

When he awoke, he appeared to be perfectly recovered, sitting up and looking round him with an air of astonishment, as if he had not been aware how he had been brought on board. I had accompanied the surgeon to visit him. He again uttered some of the strange words we had before heard, but finding no one understood him, he stopped, and appeared to be collecting his senses. He then said something which sounded like French. It was very bad French, to be sure; but we shortly made out that he was expressing his thanks to us for having rescued him.

The next day he was up and dressed, and though somewhat weak, perhaps, apparently as well as anybody on board. He now came aft, when, in his broken language, helped out with a word or two of English, he gave us a strange story. I cannot pretend to give his account in his own language—indeed it would not be very clear if I did so, as it was only after he had been on board some time that we gained all the particulars. He told us that his name was Macco, that he was born in Madagascar, at a village in the north of that large island. With several lads from the same village he had gone on board a vessel which had carried them to the Mauritius. There he had worked as a field-labourer for some time, and though not a slave, treated very little better than one. He had learned something about Christianity, but not much, I am afraid. He knew that some of his countrymen had become Christians; but as large numbers of them had been murdered, he was afraid, should he ever go back to Madagascar, that he might be treated in the same way, and was therefore unwilling to acknowledge that he was a Christian. After a time he had engaged with several other people from Madagascar, as well as Creoles of the Mauritius, to accompany a person to the island of Rodrigez, to be employed under him as fishermen. They were at once embarked on board a small colonial vessel, which conveyed them to that island, where they were hired out to different masters. It appeared, however, that the Creoles were very jealous of the Malagasys, and poor Macco found himself very ill-treated by them. Frequently they beat him, and often threatened his life. Several times he complained of their conduct to his master; but the man was hard-hearted, and only laughed at his complaints, telling him to go and thrash the Creoles, and they would soon cease to torment him. Poor Macco, however, was a mild-tempered young man, and probably thought that he would only be treated worse if he made any such attempt. At length, to avoid the persecutions to which he was subjected, he determined to run away from the island, and endeavour to reach the Mauritius. He mentioned his determination to one of his fellow-countrymen, who advised him to put it into execution. He, however, had to wait some time before he could carry out his project. He began, however, at once to store up a supply of food to support himself during his projected voyage. At first he contemplated building a canoe for himself, but as that might raise suspicions of his intentions, he resolved to take one belonging to his master. He had some scruples about stealing it, but at the same time he persuaded himself that as his master would not redress his grievances, he was justified in doing so. He probably was unacquainted with the golden rule of never doing wrong that good might come of it. It was a subject, indeed, on which casuists might differ. Be that as it may, Macco fixed on a canoe which he thought would answer his purpose. His countrymen assisted him, and he procured a piece of calico to serve as a sail, and soon cut a mast and spar on which to spread it. The only food he was able to provide for supporting existence was eight pounds of uncooked rice, and a small barrel of water.

One evening as it was growing dark he stole down to the shore, and the wind being as he thought fair, shoved off the canoe, hoisted a sail, and with an oar for steering, which he secured to the stern of the canoe, stood away from the land. The weather at first was very fine, and he glided smoothly over the sea, hoping before long to reach either the Mauritius or Bourbon. He was unable to restrain his hunger, which the uncooked rice could have done little to appease, and therefore ate up nearly a pound a day. Thus at the end of eight or nine days he had finished the whole of his provisions. He had still some water left, however, and he knew very well that he could go without food for a day, hoping before the end of it to have land in sight. He scarcely stirred from his seat in the stern of the canoe. When he dropped off to sleep, the movement of the oar very soon awoke him. Few Europeans on such fare would have lived beyond the first ten days. Macco, however, when his rice was expended, began to scrape away the wood from the inside of his canoe. This, cut up fine, he ate, washing it down with water. Day after day passed by, and still no land, no sail appeared. Often he slept, steering instinctively, it must have been, before the wind, and waking up to feel the gnawing of hunger. This he satisfied with the scraped wood. Incredible as it may appear, such was the only food on which he supported existence for thirteen days. We had many opportunities of testing the man’s honesty and had no reason to doubt his veracity. He was of course little more than skin and bone when he was brought on board. He had actually been twenty-two days at sea when we found him.

Note. The narrative is true, and is given exactly as described in the original account.

In the course of a few days he had completely recovered his strength, and seemed very well satisfied with his lot. As he was a smart, active fellow, he was entered as one of the seamen of the Bussorah Merchant. He knew a little English already, and quickly picked up more. He was thus well able to understand the orders given him. He did not appear to be a favourite with the men. He was evidently retiring and unsociable. Perhaps he had been so long subjected to ill-treatment from others, that he was unwilling to place confidence in those among whom he was cast, until he had ascertained that they were well-disposed towards him. I observed, however, that Ali was constantly speaking to him, but I rather doubt that their words were very intelligible to each other, as English was the only common language they possessed. Ali knew it very imperfectly, and Macco still less. More than once I observed Ali’s quick, piercing, fierce eyes fixed on him attentively, as he appeared to be endeavouring to impress some matter on his mind. Macco’s look all the time was passive, and he either did not comprehend what was said, or was uninfluenced by it.

One night, when it was my watch on deck, I had been standing looking out on the forecastle, when I heard a voice near me say, “When you step aft, Massa Walter, I got word to whisper in your ear.” It was Potto Jumbo who spoke. I had thought that he had been in his bunk asleep.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I tell presently—not here, though,” he answered, gliding away from me, and going over to the other side of the deck, where he stood, as if looking up and admiring the stars which glittered above our heads.

As soon as I could leave the forecastle, I went and stood near the gangway, where the black cook soon joined me.

“I no like what going forward on board, forward there,” and he pointed to the fore-peak. “Dat Ali Tomba one big rascal. He go talky talky to de men, and try to make dem mutinous like hisself.”

“But what can he have to complain of?” I observed; “the crew seem all well treated.”

“Dere it is dat make me angry,” said Potto. “He come to me one day, he say, ‘Potto Jumbo, you black slave, you peel potato for white men; dey make you do what dey like. Why not strike one blow for freedom?’ I say, ‘I free as any man on board. I come here because I like come here. I go away when voyage over, and live ashore like one gentleman till money gone, and den come to sea again. No man more free dan I.’”

“I think you are right, Potto,” I observed, “on that point; but surely Ali fancies that he has some cause of complaint. Why does he not speak out like a man, and say what it is? Have you any idea?”

“Just dis, Massa Walter,” he answered; “in de last ship Ali sailed in, de captain was one big tyrant. He flogged de men, he stopped de men’s wages, he feed dem badly, and treat dem worse dan de dogs in de street without masters. One day dis Captain Ironfist—dat was his name—go to flog Ali, but Ali draw his knife and swear he die first or kill de captain; but de captain knocked him down wid one handspike, and put Ali in irons, and den flog him, and den put him back in irons; and den carried him to port, and den put him into prison. Captain Ironfist sailed away in another ship, and Ali not find him; so Ali swore dat he would have his revenge on de next captain he sailed wid. He no find opportunity to do harm to Captain Davenport as yet, but he wait like snake in de grass to spring up and sting him when he can. Now he and his men want to go to Calcutta, and dey thought when de ship sailed dat dey were going dere. Now dey find dat we go to Japan, dey bery angry, and all swear dat de ship shall go to Calcutta in spite of de captain. Dere are some bad Englishmen on board as well as demselves, and dey up to any mischief, and Ali tink he count on dem. He tink too he count on Potto Jumbo, but he make one big mistake. I no say anything when he talk to me, but shrug my shoulders, and make one ugly face at him, and so he tink all right. He tink too he got Macco, but Potto not so certain of dat.”

“But, surely,” I observed, “he and his Lascars would not attempt to take the ship from the captain and officers, with the larger number of the white crew, who would certainly side with us?”

“Don’t know,” said Potto. “He one daring fellow, and he try anyting; but if he find he no strong enough, he try to burn de ship or to scuttle her. At all events, he try to do some mischief.”

“This is, indeed, a serious matter,” I observed; “and I am grateful to you, Potto, for telling me. At the same time, however, bad as Ali’s intentions may be, I really do not think we have much cause for alarm. Still, I am sure the captain also will be grateful to you for the warning you give him; but I am afraid he will be very much annoyed when he hears of it. I think I must first tell Mr Thudicumb, and he can arrange the best way of letting the captain know.”

“Dat’s it, Massa Walter. Tell de first officer. He wise man. He no put out by dis or any oder matter. I now go forward, lest Ali come on deck, or any of his people, and see me talking to you.”

“Do so,” I said; “but, Potto, I think you will assist us if you would pretend to be more ready to listen to what Ali has to say to you, and you can give me information of his plans.”

Potto did not answer immediately.

“I not certain dat Ali speak de truth to me,” he answered. “At first he did; but he big, cunning rogue, and he suspect dat I no love his plans. Still, Massa Walter, I do as you wish, dough Potto Jumbo no like to act spy over any one, even big rascal like Ali. Potto Jumbo once prince in his own country, before de enemies of his people came and burnt his village, and kill his fader, and moder, and broders, and sisters, and carry off him and all dey did leave alive on board de slave-ship. Den de British cruiser take her, and Potto Jumbo enter on board de man-of-war, and dere became boy to de cook, and now Potto Jumbo is cook hisself on board de Bussorah Merchant. Dere, Massa Walter, you have my history. You see I do not wish to do anything derogatory to my family and my rank;” and Potto Jumbo drew himself up, as if he was again the monarch of half-a-dozen bamboo-built cottages, and their unclothed, dark-skinned inhabitants. “Now, good-night, Massa Walter, again; I go forward.”

Potto Jumbo glided away to the fore-peak, and I walked aft. I had, however, some little time to wait before my watch was over. I then hurried into the first mate’s cabin. He was about to leave it to take charge of the deck.

“Will you let me have a word with you, sir,” I said, “before you leave the cabin. I have something somewhat unpleasant to communicate, and I do not like to delay doing so.”

“Let me have it out then at once, Walter,” he said. “Nothing like the present moment; and, for my part, I always like to know the worst, if I can get at it.”

I at once told him in a low voice the information I had received from Potto Jumbo. The light of the lamp in his cabin fell on his weather-beaten countenance, but I saw no change in it.

“Very likely,” he observed; “that serang has a hang-dog look, which shows that he is capable of attempting any atrocity; but I do not think he will succeed notwithstanding. I will tell the captain in the morning, but there is no necessity to do so now. For his own sake, he will not set the ship on fire, or scuttle her, at this distance from land; and as to his hope of overpowering us, or the English part of the crew, the idea is absurd. However, I will warn the other officers. You go and tell Mr Tarbox I wish to speak to him. Take care the Lascar fellows do not see you; and then go back to your berth and turn in.”

I made my way to the boatswain’s cabin, and, rousing him up, told him that the first officer wished to see him on a matter of importance.

“I need ask no questions, Walter,” he observed. “Do you know what it is about?”

“Mr Thudicumb will tell you all about it,” I replied; keeping to my resolution of not speaking to any one else about the matter.

I then went to my berth, and feeling sure that all would be managed wisely by the first officer, was in less than a couple of minutes fast asleep. In my dreams, however, I heard fearful noises. I fancied I saw the mutineers rushing aft; but instead of ten Lascars, there were fifty or one hundred dark-skinned fellows, with sharp krisses in their hands, threatening destruction to all who opposed them.

Chapter Six.

The ship in danger.

I was awoke by the cry of “All hands, shorten sail.” Slipping on my clothes, I sprang on deck. The sea was running high, the ship was heeling over to a strong breeze. I flew to the rigging, and my station in the mizzen-top. It was daylight. The crew were swarming up the rigging, and I could distinguish the Lascars forward among the most active. Whatever might have been their intentions for evil, they seemed as eager as any one in taking in the reefs. The serang himself lay out on the weather yard-arm, and I saw him, earing in hand, working away actively with the rest. The dream was still vivid on my mind; and I could not help feeling surprised at seeing him thus engaged, when I had expected to be struggling in a deadly conflict with him and his companions. The ship was soon brought under snug sail, and standing on her course to the eastward. The watch below returned to their bunks to take the remainder of their short night’s rest, and I was quickly asleep.

Again the same dream came back to me. Once more the Lascars made their way aft, but this time stealthily. I fancied I saw Ali leading them through the gloom of night, whilst the captain was unconscious of their approach, gazing over the taffrail, as if watching some object astern. I tried to warn him, but could not make my voice heard. Ali was close to him, with his kriss ready to strike, when I heard the watch below called.

In a moment I was awake. My dream was at an end. I dressed as usual for the morning work of washing down decks, and in another minute was paddling about with my bare feet on the planks, among idlers holy-stoning, and topmen dashing buckets of water here and there on every side, often into the face of some unhappy wight to whom they owed a grudge. The wind did not increase, but there was sufficient sea on to keep many of the passengers below. Mrs Davenport, however, with Emily and Grace, came on deck. They required, however, assistance to move about, which I and the third mate, and a young civilian going out to Singapore, had the satisfaction of rendering them. Emily and Grace sat watching the high, tossing, foaming seas with delight.

“How grand!” exclaimed Emily. “I quite envy the huge fish which can swim about unconcerned in these tumbling waves, or the sea-fowl which fly over them from ridge to ridge bathing in the spray.”

Grace admired the masses of white foam which flew off from the summits of the seas as they rolled grandly by. Mr Hooker was the merriest of the party, and seemed well pleased with the delight the girls exhibited at the new aspect the ocean had put on. He only regretted that he could not read as much as usual, as he was tempted, like them, to remain on deck and observe it.

I had not forgotten what I had heard from Potto Jumbo about Ali and his companions. I observed them on deck going about their duty as quietly and orderly as any one. Mr Thudicumb had not again alluded to the subject, and I could not tell whether or not he had informed the captain. I could not, however, help suspecting that Ali had seen Potto speaking to me, and that he might therefore be acting as he was doing for the purpose of throwing us off our guard. I resolved to mention my suspicion to Mr Thudicumb as soon as I had an opportunity, and in the meantime to watch Ali, and try to find out what he was about. I had no opportunity of speaking, unobserved, to the black cook; for whenever I went forward either Ali himself, or one of the Lascars, were near the caboose. I suspected that they went there purposely.

For three days the gale continued. At last, one evening Mr Thudicumb called me into his cabin.

“I have not been asleep, Walter,” he said. “The captain knows all about the matter. He does not think that the Lascars will really carry out their plans, and suspects that Ali was merely attempting to frighten the black cook. Still, as a matter of precaution, he has directed all the officers, as well as most of the gentlemen passengers, to carry arms; and has warned Mr Tarbox, and three or four of the most trustworthy of the men, to be on the alert. However, while the gale blows, there is little fear that they will attempt anything; but if we were to have a long calm, their courage would get up, as they would believe that they could navigate the ship in smooth water, should they be able to gain possession of her.”

That night the sea had gone down, and the weather appeared mending. While I was on deck, I found Potto Jumbo by my side.

“Well, Potto,” I said, “do you think our friends have given up their kind intentions?”

“No, Massa Walter,” he answered. “Me tink dey cut your t’roat, and my t’roat, and de captain’s t’roat, and de mate’s t’roat, and everybody’s t’roat who no side wid dem.”

“Then would it not be better to get them all put in irons at once?” I observed. “I wonder the captain does not secure them.”

“Dey done nothing,” answered Potto. “Dey good, obedient seamen. What for de captain put dem in irons? I only try and find out, and tink and guess what dey want to do.”

“True,” I observed; “then all we can do is to watch till they commit some overt act, as the lawyers call it.”

“I don’t know what overt act is,” observed my friend; “but I know dat if dey stick de kriss into me, or de mate, or Massa Tarbox, dey no stop dere. When dey begin, I know what dese fellows are.”

“Then, what we must do, is to watch them narrowly,” I observed.

“Ay, ay, Massa Walter, I got my eyes about me; neber fear of dat. Dey tink me go to sleep. When cunning Lascar talk and plot, and say what he will do, Potto lies wid one eye just little open, peeping out of de bunk and awake, and snore all the time like de big animal you call ’nosorous in my country. Dey say, ‘Dat black cook is fast asleep—he no understand what we say.’—Now, good-night, Massa Walter; me go below and talk of de tree glass of grog I got, and den lie down, and go off to sleep and snore. Ha, ha, ha! Potto Jumbo no sleep when his friends in danger, and their enemies plotting.”

He said this in his usual low voice, and leaving me, dived below. By the next forenoon the sea had almost completely gone down. The reefs had been shaken out of the sails, and under our usual canvas we were making good speed across the ocean. Passing near the caboose, Potto Jumbo popped out his head.

“Tell de first mate to be on de watch. Dey going to do something—mischief—never fear dat; me know not what dough, dey so quiet; but dey intend to take away a boat, dat I heard dem say.”

Having thus delivered himself, Potto drew his head in within his den. As soon as I could return aft, I found an opportunity of telling Mr Thudicumb what Potto had said.

“Not much fear of their getting off,” observed the first mate. “It would be difficult for the serang and his men to lower a boat without being discovered. We must, however, keep a strict watch over him. He probably supposes that we are near some land which he hopes to reach. Still, whatever may be his intentions, we will be even with him.”

The sun had set in a glorious glow of red. The passengers were on deck enjoying the coolness of evening, though the shades of night quickly came down over the ocean. Suddenly there was a startling cry of “Fire, fire!” and a thin wreath of dark smoke was seen ascending up the fore-hatchway.

“Strike the fire-bell!” cried the captain. “No rushing, my men! Steady! Mr Thudicumb will lead the way below. Be ready with the buckets.—Mr Martin,” to the second officer, “rig a pump overboard! Mr Tarbox, come aft!”

The captain whispered a few words to him. The men obeyed all the orders promptly. A line was formed to pass the buckets as they were filled down the hold. The first officer and several men descended. The passengers joined the party to pass the buckets. Among the most active of the people appeared Ali, and two or three of his men. I observed, however, that the remainder kept together on one side of the ship. The smoke increased, in spite of the water which was now hove down on the spot whence it was supposed to proceed. Faster and faster we passed the buckets. Presently there was a cry, and first one man and then another was hauled up almost suffocated with smoke. Mr Thudicumb came last: he could scarcely stand; indeed, he appeared almost senseless. He quickly recovered, however, and insisted on again going below, though the other officers begged to take his place.

“No, no,” he shouted. “Bring wet blankets, wet bedding—anything by which we may smother the flames!”

Once more he and his companions descended with wet blankets in their arms. The seat of the fire was evidently far down.

“We must get at the cargo!” cried Mr Thudicumb, from below, to the captain, who was standing over the hatchway.

A crane was rigged, and whips rove, and bales and packages hauled up, several more men jumping below to assist. I was passing the buckets when Mr Tarbox came near me.

“Keep an eye on Ali and his people,” he said. “I have a notion this is their doing. For all they appear so active, they mean mischief, depend on it.”

Still Ali was working away, now passing along a bucket, now hoisting up a bale of merchandise. Presently, however, I saw him slip away and glide off. His men, who had apparently been watching him, directly afterwards also made their way up to the starboard quarter boat; and I observed that each man carried a package of some sort. I ran round to where the boatswain was assisting in hoisting up the cargo; and he and several men, whom he summoned, instantly sprang aft, where we found Ali and his companions in the act of lowering the boat. Two were already in her. “Hold fast, you villains!” cried Tarbox, giving a blow to Ali, which knocked him over.

His companions drew their sharp knives, which they had concealed in their trousers, and made a rush at the boatswain, who was, however, too quick for them, and drawing a pistol from his pocket, presented it at the head of the first; while

the men, seizing some boat-stretchers which had been placed ready for use by the boatswain, laid about them with so much energy that they quickly knocked over several of the Lascars, though two or three were wounded in the scuffle. Ali had again sprung to his feet, but instead of attempting to attack Mr Tarbox, he only cried out—

“What do you mean? I lowered a boat to save the ladies! Suppose fire gain on ship, what you do then with them?”

“Oh! is that it, my hearty!” answered Tarbox. “However, the fire is not going to gain on the ship, I hope. Do you tell your men to come out of the boat quickly, and make fast the falls again, and just you come along with me.”

Saying this, the boatswain made a rush at the Lascar, and quickly passed a rope behind his arms. Two other men were seized at the same time, their knives being taken from them. They were then dragged into one of the cabins, and a seaman with a loaded pistol placed as a guard over them.

“Now, the rest of you go forward!” cried the boatswain to the Lascars; and, without attempting resistance, they obeyed the order.

Oliver Farwell was sent aft by the captain to assist the seamen in watching the prisoners, while I again joined the gangs in passing the buckets. The smoke continued to ascend as quickly as before; and, as the cargo was removed, flames burst up, rising through the hatchway. Again Mr Thudicumb and his companions had to come on deck.

“Never fear, though,” he cried out, as soon as he had recovered from the effects of the smoke. “We are getting at the seat of the fire! More volunteers for below! Come, lads!”

He had not to make any further appeal. A dozen fresh hands, led by Mr Hooker, each carrying sails or blankets or bedding well saturated, sprang below; and I could not resist the feeling that I could do more good there than on deck. Meantime water came rushing down round us, preventing our clothes from catching fire. Happily the ship was steady, or the danger would have been greatly increased.

I shall never forget that scene. The lurid glare of the fire cast a ruddy glow over the figures of the men as they gathered round the crater-like opening which had been made, while dark wreaths of smoke hung over the deck above us, and curled up towards the hatchway. Scarcely, however, had a fresh supply of sails and bedding been thrown over the hole, aided by the streams of water which came rushing into it, than the flames suddenly subsided.

“Hurrah!” shouted Mr Thudicumb, and the cry was taken up by Mr Hooker and the rest of us. “More water! more water!”

Bucket after bucket was handed down and dashed into the opening, and again hauled up. We were now left in almost total darkness: not a glimmer of light remained. The smoke entirely disappeared, though the strong smell of it remained. The first officer called for lanterns, and they were quickly brought by the boatswain and his mates. He now descended into the lower hold, and the blankets and bedding were hoisted up out of it.

“It is as well we got out these bales,” I heard him observe to the boatswain. “Here, Tarbox; what do you say to this?”

It was evident on examination that a space had been cleared out under the cargo, and filled with straw and shavings and other light matter. This had caused the smoke, though until the bales above it had been removed the flames were kept down. When the superincumbent bales were lifted off, the flames quickly rose up; but the material which fed them being light, had speedily burned out before they had time to ignite the surrounding cargo, which, fortunately being very tightly packed, did not easily catch fire. A thorough examination having been made, no further signs of fire could be discovered. A couple of trusty hands were placed to watch the hold, and those who were drenched to the skin retired to put on dry garments.

I soon afterwards met Mr Tarbox, and asked him if he suspected the cause of the fire.

“Of course I do,” he answered. “Depend upon it, that fellow Ali and his gang have had a hand in it; but how they managed to get below without being discovered is more than I can say.”

The captain and officers held now a consultation, and the rest of the Lascars were seized, and the whole of the party put in irons. I will not describe the scenes which took place in the cabin after it was known that the fire had been thoroughly put out, and that we were once more in safety. The passengers exhibited their feelings in a variety of ways. Some wept, others laughed; and many, I am glad to say, knelt down and returned thanks to Heaven for the protection which had been afforded us. I kissed my dear sister Emily, and told her how thankful I was that she was safe; for, indeed, my thoughts had been of her all the time, more than of anything else.

The next morning Ali and his companions were brought up for trial before the captain and officers and several passengers. Suspicions were evidently strong against them, and yet no one could prove that they had placed the combustible matter in the hold, or had set it on fire. Ali himself declared, with many oaths, that he was innocent of the charges brought against him; his air, indeed, was that of a much injured person. As to his attempt to lower a boat, he asserted positively, and his men corroborated his statement, that the order had been given by the second officer. When Martin declared he had issued no such order, Ali shrugged his shoulders, and could only say that he must have been mistaken, and that the error arose in consequence of his slight knowledge of English. When asked how they came to have arms in their hands, they said they had brought their knives for ordinary use; and in the same way they had secured some provisions, knowing that should they have to go in the boats they would be required, as they could not eat the food cooked by the Christians.

Now, if my kind friend Captain Davenport had a fault, it was that of being too lenient. Instead of keeping Ali and his gang in irons, he at once liberated them, warning them that though suspicions were strongly against them, he was willing to believe the best. I do not think either the officers or passengers were particularly well pleased with his decision. I afterwards heard Mr Thudicumb tell the boatswain to keep as bright a look-out as possible on Ali and the other Lascars.

“I doubt whether that fellow has got any gratitude in his breast; and if he is determined to do mischief, he will bide his time and do it, depend on that,” he observed.

“Ay, ay, Mr Thudicumb, I have no doubt about it,” observed Tarbox. “I only wish the captain would have kept them in irons till we get to Singapore, and would then hand them over to justice. That fellow Ali deserves hanging, to my mind, as much as any pirate who has ever swung in chains, or mutineer who has been run up to the yard-arm. It was no fault of his that this fine ship and all on board were not burned or sent to the bottom.”

Ali perhaps knew that he was watched; at all events, his whole conduct was changed. No man could behave more respectfully to the officers, or could more carefully see that those under him did their duty, while he himself worked away as hard as any one. He seemed to bear no ill-will against Tarbox or any of the other men, while he appeared to have positively a kindly feeling towards Potto Jumbo, and to be especially patronising to Macco. Indeed, after this everything went on smoothly and pleasantly among the men, while perhaps the dangers they had gone through made the passengers even more sociable and pleasant than before.

Chapter Seven.

We enter the Eastern Seas.

Land was in sight, stretching out on either hand. On the port side was the island of Sumatra; on the starboard, the north end of Java. The Bussorah Merchant, with a light wind, was standing through the Straits of Sunda. Mr Hooker walked the deck, in spite of the heat, rubbing his hands with pleasure. He was now approaching the region he had long desired to examine; and he was pleasing himself with the thoughts of the wonders of Nature which would be revealed to his sight. Soon the straits were passed, and numerous low-lying shores of various islands, large and small, appeared in sight, covered with the richest vegetation, which seemed to flourish under the fearful heat which oppressed the spirits of us poor mortals who had come from so much cooler a region. It had been hot when passing the tropics: it was hotter still now; for no clouds overhead tempered the sun’s rays. The pitch, as before, in the sides and seams of the deck, melted and oozed out. The tar dropped from the rigging, and none of us willingly touched any piece of metal for fear of burning our fingers. Merlin wisely kept in the shade, and the young ladies followed his example. I, however, being now stationed in the mizzen-top, had to go aloft. I could not help often wishing, as I looked down into the clear sea, that I might take a leap overboard, and dive down into the depths below.

Singapore—that wonderful emporium of the commerce of the East, established by the sagacious foresight of Sir Stamford Raffles—was now reached. It was the first time our anchor had been dropped since we quitted the Thames. The only land sighted till Sumatra and Java were seen, was the small island of Tristan da Cunha.

“You see, my boy, the result of a sound knowledge of navigation,” observed Mr Hooker to me. “But the captain has to thank the astronomers, and the inventors and the manufacturers of his instruments, or he could not have thus easily found his way half round the world, as he has done. You see we depend upon each other; and that is what I want to impress upon you. You may not have much scientific knowledge yourself, but if you have observation, you can accurately note the various phenomena you meet with, and give your descriptions to those who will make good use of them. I had contemplated leaving the ship at Singapore; but I have made up my mind to go with you to Japan, and then to return in her to one of the ports in these Eastern islands which Captain Davenport purposes visiting.”

I was very glad to hear of Mr Hooker’s determination, for I should have been very sorry to have lost his society.

The town and island of Singapore exhibit a variety of Eastern races and different religions and modes of life. The ruling class are of course English, but the Chinese are the most numerous, and among them are found many wealthy merchants, most of the mechanics and labourers, and also agriculturalists. The sea-faring population are mostly Malays. There are a good many Portuguese, who act as clerks and shop-keepers. There are also Arabs and Klings of Western India, who are Mohammedans. There are also Parsee merchants, while the grooms and washermen are mostly Bengalees. These, with numerous Javanese sailors, as well as traders from Celebes, Bali, and numerous other islands of the East, make up this curiously mixed population. Then in the harbour are found men-of-war, merchant vessels of numerous European nations, large numbers of Chinese junks and Malay praus, with hundreds of little fishing and passenger boats. Chinese josshouses, Indian temples, Mohammedan mosques, rise up on either side with Christian churches. The warehouses are substantial, the residences of the Europeans large and commodious, contrasting with the long rows of queer little Malay and Chinese cottages, among which are found Kling and Chinese bazaars, where everything can be bought, from a reel of cotton to a sword or razor. Numberless vendors of various articles throng the streets with water, fruit, vegetables, soup, and a sort of jolly made of sea-weed. Here a man comes running along with a pole, having a cooking apparatus on one end and a table on the other, from which he will immediately furnish a meal of shell-fish, vegetables, and rice at a small cost.

The island of Singapore is covered with a number of small hills, some nearly 400 feet high, covered to the summits with forest trees. In these forests the Chinese settlers are employed in cutting timber. Tigers are very numerous on the island, as they have but a short distance to cross over from the Malay peninsula, and frequently wood-cutters are carried away by them.

I accompanied Mr Hooker several times on shore. The naturalist was delighted with the great variety of beetles and other crawling creatures which he was able to collect. We were struck by the enormous size of the trees and the variety of large ferns, as well as the number of climbing ratan palms. One day we were walking along, Mr Hooker being in advance, when I saw him suddenly sink into the ground. I ran forward to help my friend, who fortunately having a long pole in his hand, kept hold of it.

“Quick, quick, Walter!” he shouted. “Help me out or I shall be impaled.”

Not without difficulty I got hold of his hand, and by main force dragged him up. When at length on firm ground, the naturalist, after resting a moment, pulled away a quantity of brushwood and disclosed a large pit. On looking into it we found that it was formed with the top narrower than the bottom, and in the centre was stuck a pointed stake. A person falling in, had he escaped impalement, would have found it impossible, unaided, to get out again.

“This is a tiger-pit,” exclaimed Mr Hooker; “and a very effectual way of catching a tiger should one attempt to cross it. I really believe that I have narrowly escaped a fearful death; for see, had I gone through, I should very probably have fallen on the stake.”

After this, as we proceeded, we carefully avoided the spots covered over by fallen brushwood, lest they should conceal pits of a similar description. Still Mr Hooker was too eager a naturalist to give up his search, and, aided by me, quickly filled his boxes and cases. Evening was coming on, and we were thinking of returning, sorry to leave the cool shade of the trees for the still hot, open ground, when we saw a creature at no great distance moving through the jungle.

“What can that be?” I exclaimed.

“A tiger, and it will be as well to put a bullet into my gun in case he should think fit to follow us. I am told that seldom a day passes that an unfortunate Chinaman is not carried away by one of these beasts. I am afraid they are too wary, like rats in England, to be caught in traps, or there would not be so many of them in the island.”

As we walked along I could not help looking over my shoulder every now and then in expectation of seeing the tiger. Mr Hooker, too, kept his gun ready for use in case we were pursued. We left the forest, however, and took our way over the open, dry ground without again catching sight of the tiger.

We got back to Singapore and returned on board that night, as the ship was to sail the following morning. Emily turned pale when she heard the account I gave her of the tiger, and all the party were greatly interested in hearing the account of Mr Hooker’s escape from the tiger-pit.

The ship’s course was now directly through the China Sea—a region in which every variety of weather is encountered, from a dead calm to a furious typhoon. The northern end of the Philippine Islands was sighted on the starboard hand, and afterwards the Bashee Islands to the north of them.

“There is a large island lies away there on our right hand, called Formosa,” said the captain. “The inhabitants are Chinese. They seem even more cruel and treacherous than the rest of their countrymen. Not long ago two vessels were wrecked, and their crews made prisoners. The natives marched them off to their capital, somewhere in the middle of the island, several days’ journey from the coast, and there they kept them prisoners for many months. Some were Englishmen, others Lascars, to the number of forty or fifty. The lives of a few were saved, but they cut off the heads of all the others, declaring they were those of barbarians killed in warfare; and it is said that the chief officers who commanded this massacre gained great credit, and many rewards for their bravery. The others were carried away to Nangking, and were there going to be killed; but the English expedition came out, and were just in time to save their lives.—I don’t like the Chinese,” continued the captain. “They are treacherous, conceited, inhospitable to strangers, grossly superstitious, heartless, and cruel, though perhaps they may not be said to be bloodthirsty. Their streets are dirty in the extreme, and their houses are not much better. However, it cannot be denied that they are very industrious and persevering, and that a Chinaman will make a living where a man of another nation will starve.”

Note. The English have now a settlement in Formosa.

“Perhaps, when we come to know them better, we may find exceptions to this description,” observed Mr Hooker. “Probably we shall discover noble and high-minded men, according to the light that is in them, in China as elsewhere. I do not know that all English towns are models of cleanliness; and certainly, if left to the care of the ordinary inhabitants, many would be found as bad as those in China.”

At length the high land of the south end of Japan hove in sight. As the ship stood on towards the harbour of Nagasaki, we were all eagerly looking out on the beautiful scenery which presented itself. In many parts the coast is bold, in other places it rises from the beach in gentle hills covered with apparently impenetrable forests. The narrow entrance to the harbour now appeared, between lofty overhanging hills covered with rich vegetation. As Captain Davenport had been there before, and the wind was fair, we stood boldly on till a pilot appeared, when sail was shortened to allow him to come on board. On either side, wherever the ground would allow it, the land seemed cultivated to the summit of the highest hills. Here and there, however, the muzzles of guns were seen protruding from amidst green shrubs and trees, ready to destroy any unwelcome intruder.

As the ship advanced the harbour widened out. On one side appeared the beautiful little island of Pappenberg, so named by the Dutch, though the Japanese call it Tacabooco. Its sides rise directly out of the water in lofty precipitous cliffs, their summits crowned with dark luxuriant cedars. It was to this island that a large number of the Japanese who had been converted to Christianity by the celebrated Roman Catholic missionary Xavier were carried when they refused to abjure the religion they had adopted. Conducted up to the summits of the cliffs, they were cast over the edge, bound hand and foot, at low water, meeting certain death as they reached the rocks below. Here the mangled remains lay till the tide coming in carried them off to sea. In late years many hundred Christians were treated in a similar manner in Madagascar. We looked with sad interest at the spot, having just before read an account of the massacre.

The ship continued her progress up the inlet or gulf, which is four miles long, till at length she came to an anchor off the town of Nagasaki. On either side were towering cliffs, precipitous peaks with green and shady groves below, amid which appeared prettily-painted picturesque cottages, not altogether unlike those of Switzerland. Many small bays were passed, in which were moored little boats, kept scrupulously clean, though unpainted. The sails consisted of three stripes of sailcloth or matting, united by a kind of lacework, thus forming one whole sail for light winds. By unlacing one portion, the sail can quickly be reduced in size. The boatmen, unlike the natives of the places lately visited, were almost as fair as Europeans. They wore, however, scarcely more clothing than their brethren in more southern regions. A Japanese boat is moved by a scull in the stern, with which she is steered when under sail—no oars being used: the passengers always sit in the fore part.

As soon as the ship dropped her anchor the Japanese officials came on board, one who spoke a little English acting as interpreter. They were dressed in long flowing robes confined at the waist by a band wound round the body, in which is suspended a case containing a pipe, a tobacco-pouch, an ink-horn, and a small brush used when they write. Over this is worn a transparent dark coat with a white mark on the arms and back. On grand occasions public officials wear a similar dress of a light fawn or dove tint. A person of the rank of a gentleman invariably wears two swords stuck in his girdle. On sitting down he removes the longest, and places it against some piece of furniture at his side; but he never parts with the smaller one, which is kept sharp, and in readiness to kill himself should any accusation of a crime, false or true, be brought against him. The questions put to the captain having been satisfactorily answered, we were informed that we might discharge our cargo. The officers were then invited down into the cabin to partake of cake and wine, which they seemed greatly to enjoy. They then, bowing politely, took their departure, leaving one of their number on board, who was to remain while the ship was anchored in the harbour.

Mr Hooker had a friend here, a merchant, who came on board to see him. Emily and I were introduced; and he invited us, and Grace also, to come and stay at his house with Mr Hooker, while the ship remained off the place. The residence of the merchant was situated on a platform on the side of a hill surrounded by trees, at a little distance from the town. The house had broad verandahs, every door sliding backwards and forwards in grooves, instead of opening and shutting in the ordinary fashion. In the garden were quantities of lovely flowers, and it had a pond in the centre. The pond was full of wonderfully large gold and silver fish, which were always ready to exhibit their lovely tints when bits of bread were thrown in to them. The girls especially were delighted with the beauty of the wild flowers in the surrounding woods, many of them such as would be valued in a garden in England. Surpassing all others, however, were the camelia trees, some fully thirty feet high, their lovely flowers shining out amid their dark-green foliage. We were told that the camelia is so called in honour of a Spanish Jesuit—Camel—who brought it to Europe, where it is known as the Camelia japonica. From one kind, the oleifera, a large amount of oil is extracted, used in Japan for domestic purposes. The beautiful lotus also is common; the Japanese using the root when young for food. When thoroughly boiled, it is very palatable. Mr Hooker was well pleased with the cleanliness of the streets; so superior in that respect to those of China. They are nearly all paved in the centre, which is slightly raised, and have drains running down close to the houses on either side. Thus all impurities are carried away, and they soon become dry, even after the heaviest shower of rain. Large plantations of tea exist in the neighbourhood, the leaf being prepared in the Chinese fashion. The trade in this article alone has greatly increased since the ports of the country have been opened. I give a drawing of a Chinese tea-plantation, which is very similar to those we saw in Japan. The house seen in the sketch is the drying-house. The tea-plant is produced from seed which is dropped into holes, several together, four inches deep and four feet apart, in December. When the rain comes on, the plants spring up and form bushes. In about three years they yield their first crop of leaves. In about eight years they are cut down, that fresh shoots may spring up. The leaves are gathered singly with great care—in three gatherings: the first, when they just open; the last, when fully expanded. When gathered, they are first partially dried in the sun, and then placed on flat iron pans above furnaces in the drying-house. They require frequent shifting and turning. When sufficiently dried, they are removed with a shovel on to a mat or basket to cool, and then to a table to be rolled. This process is repeated, and they are then sifted and sorted. As far as we could learn, both black and green teas are the produce of the same plant, but prepared in a somewhat different way.

I was, of course, very eager to learn all I could about the country; but there seemed so much to learn, and so little time to learn it in, that I was frequently almost in despair. The Japanese, although idolaters, and very unlike Europeans, are evidently a very civilised people. They have had for centuries their manners and customs unchanged, and their ideas are peculiar, according to our notions. Soon after we arrived, our new friend had to pay a visit to the Governor of Nagasaki. The heat was great; but Mr Hooker begged that we might belong to the party. The Japanese, like wise people, except in cases of necessity, do not leave their cool houses during the heat of the day. The town appeared therefore almost deserted. The main street is broad and clean, the inhabitants being generally government officials and retainers of the chiefs, called Daimios. At about every hundred yards there is a barrier gate. These gates are closed every evening, when a light is suspended from the beam above, or a paper lantern is hung from one of the side posts.

As China and Japan had become civilised long before the mode of constructing an arch was discovered, and the inhabitants of neither are addicted to change, they still retain their original style of building bridges; and I give a sketch of one we crossed on our way. It is similar to those generally found in the country. Some of their gateways are very curious; and though they make their bridges with vast slabs of stone or long wooden rafters, they take the trouble of hewing out of the rock huge circles, or segments of circles, which are afterwards put together to form ornamental gateways to their pleasure-grounds.

At length our party arrived before a handsome flight of steps, with two magnificent camphor-trees on either side. The gate at the top being thrown open, we all entered the unpretending yet clean abode of the governor. A few inferior officers were sitting or standing about in the vestibule. They saluted us with a careless air, and one of them then announced our arrival, when the vice-governor, or one of the principal officers, came forward, and shaking hands, led us into another room. Here the governor himself was seated. After the proper number of bows had been made and returned, he requested to know the object of our visit. While the merchant was explaining this we had time to look about the room. All round it, with the exception of one side, which opened on the garden, were suspended screens of white grass-cloth, with a design which looked like a trefoil worked on them. Over it we caught sight of several sparkling pairs of eyes—the sex of the owners could not be doubted. In the garden was a pond in which water-lilies and other aquatic plants grew, with the usual ornaments of temples and bridges, artificial rocks being scattered about, and a considerable amount of invention displayed in the arrangement. While speaking of flowers, I must not forget the magnificent lily of Japan, which, in point of size, must be similar I should think to those of Palestine pointed out by our Lord when he said, “Consider the lilies of the field.” But to return to our visit.

After the official interview was over, tea, pipes, and cake were served, with a variety of other dishes. The great man’s wife having expressed a desire to see the strangers, we were introduced to her. She was a very handsome person; her hair, jet-black, ornamented with amber and tortoise-shell combs, with a large quantity of hair on the top mixed with flowers and ribbons. Her costume was magnificent—sky-blue crape, embroidered with gold and silver, and a profusion of flowers. It was lined with a bright scarlet silk wadding, which formed a train on the ground. Only a part, however, was visible, as the silken belt round the waist allowed it only very slightly to open. She wore a very broad sash, also of black silk, tied behind in an immense knot. The sleeves of her dress reached only to the elbow. She had no other ornaments; and her feet were encased in white cotton socks. Alas! however, her skin was completely covered with rice-powder, damped, so that it might the better adhere. Her eyebrows were shaven, as those of all married ladies are. Her lips were dyed of a bright red colour, and her teeth were black and polished as ebony. Yet we could judge of what she would have been by her exquisitely-chiselled nose, and black expressive eyes. We saw also several of her children, the younger ones dressed in crape of various colours, the others dressed much as their mother; but their teeth were beautifully white, their eyebrows unshorn; and very pretty little creatures they were. We remained for another repast, which commenced by the servants bringing in, and placing before each person on the table, which was eighteen inches high, a handsome gold and black lacquered cup and saucer, with a pair of chop-sticks. Some very nice chicken soup, with vegetables, were in the cup. After this came a similar bowl, containing venison, duck, and sweet jelly, all mixed up together. We found it very difficult eating with the chop-sticks, and Emily and Grace could not help looking up every now and then and laughing at each other as they made the attempt. We managed better with some harder things, such as fish. The last dish contained boiled chestnuts, peeled. This was placed in the centre of the table, so that each person could help himself.

The lady afterwards came to pay a return visit to our friend’s wife. She and her elder children arrived each in a norimon. This is a sort of litter slung to a bamboo pole, each end of which is carried on a man’s shoulder. A cushion is placed at the bottom, so as to come up at one end for the back, at the other for the knees; and the person sits crouched up in rather an awkward position. There is a flat covering, on which the lady’s slippers, fan, smoking apparatus, and other articles are carried. The bearers have each a pole, on which they can rest the norimon.

The ladies, I should say, are great smokers, though their pipes are small and their tobacco of a delicate description.

I need not describe the entertainment our friends gave their guests, as it was similar in many respects to that of the Japanese, though with certain English dishes. Each of their attendants, when they set out on their return, lighted a paper lantern, which is universally carried after dusk in all the towns of Japan.

The Japanese appear to be very fond of their children, and very indulgent. In our excursions we often stopped and looked into the cottages, which were invariably neat and clean in the extreme. I remember one day hearing youthful voices, and looking in, we saw a couple of children seated by the side of their father on a cushion on the floor. One of them apparently was ill, and the other was pouring out some physic from a bottle into a bowl to give to it. The expression on their countenances amused us. The little invalid was turning away his head, unwilling to take the potion; while the other seemed to be entreating that he might not have too much of it. It was a family picture, however, which gave us a very fair idea of the terms on which parents and their children exist.

Generally speaking, the women of Japan are as fair as many Europeans, and were it not for their peculiar sandals, which give them an awkward manner in walking, they would be graceful. Their hair is bound up into thick masses at the back of the head, through which a number of gold and silver or ivory arrows are placed, much in the manner of the peasant girls in some parts of Germany. The unmarried women have good eyebrows and beautiful teeth; but when they marry they blacken their teeth and shave off their eyebrows, to show their affection for their husbands, and that they no longer wish to win the admiration of others. The men have a curious way of saluting each other, passing their hands down the knee and leg, when they give a strong inhalation indicative of pleasure; and it is curious to hear these whistling sounds going on while people are paying each other compliments. When women of the same rank meet, they bend nearly double, and remain in the same position some time in conversation, occasionally giving a bob for every compliment that is paid. When they get up to go away, the same bobbing and bowing goes on for some time. When an inferior meets a superior, the former makes a low bow till the fingers almost touch the ground. Both sexes, both at home and abroad, go with the head uncovered, and to protect them from the sun they use large fans or paper umbrellas. The military, however, wear hats.

The Japanese are fond of field-sports, and the nobles go out shooting on their estates much in the same way that gentlemen in England do on theirs. They, as do the Chinese, also hunt game with hawks and falcons. The birds are trained much as they were in England in former days, when the gentle craft, as it was called, was fashionable among the nobles and gentry of the land. The accompanying drawing, which was given to me to put into my journal, gives a good idea of the Chinese way of hunting with the falcon.

The houses we visited were very curious. They are chiefly of unpainted wood; even the outsides are formed of sliding panels. There is generally an inside lining at a distance of about six feet or so, the space forming a sort of balcony. All the rooms are formed in the same way, with sliding panels. The windows are composed of oiled paper, fastened to neat frames with a glue which water cannot melt. The panels which divide the chambers are ornamented with paintings of various animals—tortoises, cranes, butterflies, and wonderfully unreal monsters. Mats, about half an inch thick, cover the floors. In the centre is a square place for a wood fire, when a brazero is not used. No chairs or tables are employed in ordinary houses, as the inhabitants sit on the mats round their trays at dinner or when drinking tea; and at night, mattresses are spread on the floor, covered with cotton, crape, or silk. The day garment is then thrown off, and a wadded dressing-gown put on for the night. The Japanese pillow is a little lacquered box with drawers in it, in which the ladies keep various small articles for their toilet—paper, hair-arrows, pins, etcetera. In the top of this curious box is a concavity with a little cushion wrapped in clean paper, and on this the back of the head is rested. Thus their head-dresses are not tumbled at night. The inhabitants of the Fiji Islands use a similar pillow for the same object of preventing their elaborately-dressed hair from being disarranged. The Japanese, however, only sleep for a short period at a time, as they have the custom of having trays with sweetmeats by their bed-sides, which they eat occasionally; or they take a few whiffs from their pipes, their tobacco-boxes, with live embers, and other necessaries for smoking, being always at hand.

They are very cleanly in their habits, bathing-houses being everywhere found; but it struck us as very odd to see men, women, and children bathing together. Sometimes as we passed a house we saw the master or mistress seated in a tub, up to the neck in water. The men, except when they wear gala costume, are very simply dressed: their sandals are of straw, and they use a plain fan of white paper and bamboo. They, however, possess fine dresses, which are kept in their richly-ornamented lacquered chests. They live chiefly on fish and rice, with various vegetables, vermicelli, eggs, sea-weed, while cakes and sweetmeats vary their diet. Tea, sugar-water, saki, are their chief beverages.

Their paper is one of the most interesting articles which they manufacture. Some, of a thick sort, is made of bamboo and oil. This is used for umbrellas, and water-proof coats, coverings for palanquins and boxes, etcetera. The finer sort is made from the bark of the mulberry-tree—the Morus papyfira—such as is used in Tahiti and other South Sea islands. It is employed instead of a pocket-handkerchief for blowing the nose, wiping the fingers, and wrapping up articles. Every person has a long sleeve pocket filled with it. Printing is very general, and all sorts of works are produced. Books are printed from wooden blocks on a particularly fine silken paper, on one side only, the blank sides being gummed together. The lacquer work is very fine. They also manufacture silks, and crapes, and linen, and cotton cloth, which, though coarse, is very soft. Many fruits of temperate and tropical climes are grown. The lacquer-tree—the Rhus vernix—which is used in the well-known lacquer work, is a handsome tree. The leaf is something like that of the beech, but broader. The lacquer is drawn from its milky sap and mixed with the oil of the bignonia. The camphor-tree—the Laurus camphora—is another very fine tree, with red and black berries. The camphor comes from it in white fragrant drops, which, when they harden, require but slight purifying to give them the appearance which the camphor we see in England presents. Everywhere we met with the tea-tree or tea-plant. It is as common in Japan as our privet or hawthorn. Japanese money is very thin. Some of the coins are oblong, some square, and others round. The chief circulating coins are of copper or iron. The workmen are very skilful: they manufacture cutlery and sword-blades to perfection. They show great skill also in gold and silver work. Their mirrors are of bronze, the reflecting surface being of silver, and polished, the back and handle ornamented with various devices. Everything, indeed, that a Japanese artisan produces, exhibits a neatness and elegance which speaks well for the taste of the people.

We had a great deal of fine scenery in the excursions we made. There are dense forests, and lofty mountains covered almost to their summits with trees. No country has ever been subject to a more absolute despotism than that which exists in Japan. There are two emperors—the Mikado, who is the religious chief of the empire, the head of the Sintoo religion; and the Tykoon, or Siokoon, who is the temporal emperor, and the real source of all political power. His residence is at Yedo. He has under him various great princes or chiefs, many of whom are very powerful. Then there are noblemen of different ranks, who are chiefly employed as officers under the crown, or governors of imperial domains. Next to them are the Sintoo and Buddhist priests, the latter of whom are under a vow of celibacy. The soldiers come after the priests in rank. Their dress is very similar to that of civilians, but they wear the embroidered badge of their respective chiefs. The fifth class consist of medical men and literati, as also inferior government officers. They are allowed, however, to wear swords and trousers. Below them again are the merchants, who are despised by the superior ranks, and are never allowed to wear swords. Mechanics rank the seventh class, and the eighth and last is composed of farmers, serfs, and the servants or feudal retainers.

I might mention many more things concerning Japan, but I should occupy too much space, and I am anxious to give an account of the adventures we ultimately encountered. We had enjoyed our visit so much to this strange and beautiful country, that we were sorry when the time came for quitting it, though we were about to visit still stranger and less known regions. Bidding our kind friends farewell, we returned on board the Bussorah Merchant. The next morning, having gone through the usual formalities, we sailed down the magnificent harbour of Nagasaki and steered a course for the Philippine Islands. Nothing of importance occurred during this part of our voyage.

The next port we touched at was Manilla, the capital of the Philippine Islands, which belong to Spain. On approaching the anchorage we passed the naval arsenal of Caveti, situated in the bay about nine miles south of the capital. Having come to an anchor, Mr Hooker invited us to accompany him on a visit to Caveti. It cannot boast much of its present glory, but it contained a curiosity—a Spanish galleon—probably one of the last in existence, then rotting in the basin. We gazed with interest at the high, ornamented, carved stern with its great lanterns, its bow adorned in the same manner with carved work. We wondered how such cumbersome-looking craft could get through with safety the long voyages they performed. Returning to the ship in the cool of the evening, we rowed up to Manilla, which is well situated at the mouth of the river Pasig. This river runs down from a number of lakes, one beyond another, the nearest of which is about three leagues eastward of the city. We spent that night on shore at a hotel, and the following day accompanied Mr Hooker on an expedition to the lakes. We engaged a curious canoe paddled by Indians, who sat in the bow and stern, while we occupied the centre. Part of this was covered over with mats, supported on arched bamboos, which sheltered us at night from the dews, and in the day-time from the sun. On either side of the river were the country houses and gardens of the inhabitants. The river was very muddy and the scenery not particularly interesting, so that we began to be somewhat disappointed. It was growing dark when we approached the entrance to the lakes. Sleep then overcame us, but our canoe-men continued paddling on at a slow pace during the night.

When we awoke in the morning we found ourselves in a scene so totally different that it seemed almost like enchantment. The mountains came sloping down from the sky to the very water’s edge, while numberless picturesque Indian villages, built of the very useful bamboo, lined the shores. Earthquakes prevailing in this region, has prevented the people erecting any lofty edifices, while a bamboo hut will stand any amount of shaking without being brought to the ground. By a hurricane, however, they are easily overthrown. Over the wide expanse of water, which was blue and clear like that of the ocean, fish of various sorts were rising to the surface, as if to look out for the appearance of the glorious sun over the mountain tops. As we pulled on, passing lofty headlands, or winding our way amid groups of islands, fresh expanses of the lake opened out before us. On the level spots, cornfields waved with grain, surrounded by cocoa-nut trees, affording shelter from the noonday sun. Numerous canoes were passing, with their white sails shining brightly over the blue expanse.

We landed at the head of the lake, into which other rivers ran, opening up a communication with the far-off parts of the island. Advancing, we passed through some shady lanes, bordered by hedges of bamboo, the graceful tops of which bent inwards, forming a complete arch overhead. In a little time we reached a neat village, the houses, with thatched roofs, looking clean and well-built. All, however, we learned, “is not gold that glitters.” We were advised not to proceed much further, as a body of banditti were said to be lurking in the neighbourhood, composed of deserters from the army and native Indians, and they would have considered us a rich prize. Probably they would have murdered us for the money we had about our persons, or for our clothes; or they might have adopted the more civilised plan, followed in Greece and Italy, of demanding a ransom.

“Oh, but they would not dare to attack Englishmen!” observed Emily.

“I am not so sure of that, young lady,” answered Mr Hooker. “They would probably make very little distinction between Englishmen and Spaniards, except, perhaps, that they might demand a higher ransom; and though it might be very romantic to be carried off among those mountains, and kept there till Captain Davenport could pay the required sum, I am afraid that none of us would find it very pleasant. However, as ‘discretion is the best part of valour,’ we will keep near our canoe, and make the best of our way, with the favourable breeze now blowing, back to the City of Cheroots.”

As we afterwards glided over the calm water, we saw some huge objects resting on a sand-bank. They looked like logs of wood; but as we came near, one of them began to move, and presently a huge pair of jaws were opened, as if the monster—for it was an alligator—was taking a yawn after his siesta.

The principal inhabitants of the capital are Spaniards or their descendants. The officers of the army are also Europeans. The rank and file, amounting to about eight thousand men, are natives. The aboriginal inhabitants are called Tagals. They are somewhat idle, though a good-natured, pleasure-loving race; are nominally Roman Catholics, but very superstitious and insincere. Their houses are formed of bamboo raised on piles, the interior covered by mats, on which the whole family sleep, with a mosquito curtain over them. The ornaments in their houses are generally a figure of the Virgin Mary, a crucifix, and their favourite game-cock. The men wear a pair of trousers of cotton or grass-cloth, with a shirt worn outside them, generally of striped silk or cotton, embroidered at the bosom. Cock-fighting is their chief amusement, as it is, indeed, among most of the people in all parts of the archipelago. It is a brutal sport, if sport it can be called. These people seem to treat their birds better than they do their wives; and so great is their passion for this abominable proceeding, that they will cheat and pilfer and commit all sorts of crimes in order to indulge it.

We visited a manufactory of cheroots, for which Manilla is celebrated. We were told that four thousand women, and half that number of men, were employed in this manufactory alone, while in the neighbourhood as many as nine thousand women and seven thousand men find employment in producing cigars. This will give you some idea of the immense amount of tobacco consumed in various parts of the world, as, of course, only a comparatively small quantity comes from Manilla. As we entered the building, our ears were almost deafened by the noise made by some hundreds of women seated on the floor, and hammering the tobacco leaves on a block with a mallet, to polish them for the outside leaf of cigars. In other rooms they were employed in rolling them up into the proper shape. Tobacco is a strict monopoly, and great care is taken, when the harvest is being gathered, to prevent any being carried off by the people. The leaves, when picked, are first placed undercover in heaps to ferment, then sorted into five classes, according to their size, and suspended in a current of air to dry. From the plantations it is sent under an escort to the factories round Manilla. It is there wet with water, or sometimes rum and vinegar, and made up as we first saw it, into rough cigars, and afterwards rolled into a more perfect form, and finished by another set of women. The refuse is made into cigarettes. Nearly the whole population—men, women, and children—smoke.

We saw the sugar-cane growing. Coffee also is almost wild, and large quantities of rice are exported to China. The cocoa-palm and the bamboo, as well as cacao, beans, indigo, silk, and cotton are produced. We were shown a species of banana, called abaca, the finer filaments of which, mixed with silk, are manufactured into native cloth. A rougher sort, called Manilla hemp, is made into rope, which, with the raw material, is largely exported. The most curious manufacture we saw, however, was that from the pine-apple leaf, which produces a fibre so fine and light, that the weaving operation must be carried on under water, as the least current of air will break it. The Tagal girls work it into handkerchiefs, which they richly embroider. These are greatly valued. A more substantial manufacture is produced from the thicker fibres, for dress pieces, which are also considered of great value. We saw also some beautiful mats made from strips of bamboo, and leaves of various trees, used for boat-sails, beds, or carpets. The hats and cigar-cases of Manilla are also of a beautiful style of manufacture.

Although I might have written a more interesting account of the country, I prefer giving this brief extract from my journal, that I may have more space to narrate the numerous adventures through which we afterwards passed.

Chapter Eight.

Cross the Sea of Celebes.

Once more we were free of islands, crossing the wide Celebes Sea. After the bracing climate of Japan, we felt the heat considerably. We had done so even when there was a breeze; it now fell calm. I scarcely before knew what a real calm at sea was. The ocean was literally as smooth as a sheet of glass—not the slightest swell was perceptible—not the faintest cat’s-paw played over the water. Some chips thrown overboard floated exactly where they had fallen; and hour after hour, as I looked over the side, there they were. Even a light vane of feathers fastened in the mizzen-rigging hung down. The smoke from the galley fire curled up in a thin blue wreath towards the sky, gradually growing thinner and thinner, but still visible to a great height. Far as the eye could reach, in the circle in the centre of which we floated, there was the same shining, unbroken surface; except when here and there some flying-fish leaped out of the translucent sea, or the fin of some monster of the deep appeared as he swam near the surface.

It was hot below—hotter even than on deck, where at all events we had the advantage of the open air. The smell of the cooking going forward in the caboose pervaded the ship; and we could easily guess how it would be under such circumstances when a fever breaks out on board—how impossible it must be to get rid of the infected atmosphere, unless perhaps by powerful and general fumigation. The seams in the deck began to splutter and hiss, and the pitch stuck to our feet as we walked about; while any piece of iron we touched seemed almost as hot as if it had been put in a furnace. We had a good supply of water on board; but it seemed, at the rate we drank it, we should soon consume our stock if this sort of weather continued.

The only person who seemed to enjoy himself thoroughly was Potto Jumbo. He smiled complacently as he looked about him when he came out of his sooty den, the hot sun striking down on his uncovered woolly pate, without having power to injure him. The Lascars appeared to suffer even more than the Englishmen from the heat. Merlin, wise dog, kept in the shade; but when he had to change his position, he went about with his mouth open, his tongue hanging out. A tub of water was placed for him in a shady spot, where he could go to quench his thirst as he might fancy—a wise arrangement for him, poor dog, and he did not fail to take advantage of it. He was not like some human beings, who turn up their noses when their friends take trouble to arrange matters for their convenience.

The English seamen went listlessly about the decks, clothed only in shirt and duck trousers. Though the human beings on board were oppressed with the beat, their caricatures and imitators, the monkeys, seemed thoroughly to enjoy themselves. Perhaps they were aware that nobody would take the trouble to go after them; so they had the rigging to themselves, and were now climbing and leaping about every part of it, now and then descending to the end of a rope to try to carry off a seaman’s hat, swinging themselves close to his head. Now two or three of them would make their way aft, and come and look down at Mr Hooker, whom most of them seemed to recognise as their master and owner. Their great pleasure, however, appeared to be to try and teaze Merlin. The old fellow, whenever they approached, opened his eyes and watched them with looks of astonishment, in no way offended at the tricks they tried to play him. Now one would come down and endeavour to catch hold of his tail; a second would jump down on his back, but would be off again before he had time almost to turn his head. Had he chosen, I am sure he could have caught one or two of the most daring, and would soon with his powerful jaws have made an end of them; but he disdained to take offence at their puny efforts to annoy him, and continued to treat them with the greatest good humour.

The Lascars were below, or asleep in the shade under the topgallant-forecastle. I made my way to the caboose, where Potto Jumbo was singing merrily, though the heat was sufficient to cook the dinner, one would suppose, without the aid of the fire. Macco had been appointed to attend on him as cook’s mate. The arrangement appeared to please both parties, for Potto was always good-natured, and Macco obedient, and apparently anxious to learn his duties.

“Dere, Macco, you go get bucket of water, and scrape dem ’tatoes, and wash dem well,” he said, pointing to the shady side of the ship, or rather what was then the shady side, for as she was continually moving round, that was as often shifting; indeed, so directly almost over our heads was the sun, that there was very little shade at all. “I want to tell you someting, Massa Walter,” said Potto; “so I send dat black fellow away.” (Macco was many shades lighter than the cook; still he always persisted in calling him “dat black fellow.”) “I wish de captain had put Ali and his people on shore at Singapore. Dey again plot mischief. I hear dem talky, talky, when dey no tink I listen, just as before. What dey intend to do I do not ’xactly know; but it is mischief, I know dat. Dey no set de ship on fire again; but perhaps dey try to cast her away, or to scuttle her, or some oder ting. Massa Walter, dare are many pirate ships out in dese parts; and de last place we touch at, I know Ali talky wid some black fellows, and me tink he told dem to follow de ship, and dat he will help to let dem come on board and take her.”

“But why did you not tell Mr Thudicumb or the captain this?” I said.

“Dey tink I fond of finding mares’ nests,” he answered. “De captain believe Ali when he say before dat he took boat to help ladies; and he no believe dat he set de ship on fire,” was the black’s answer.

“Well, Potto, I will tell Mr Thudicumb what you say, as before, and I am very sure he will attend to your advice. I think the captain believed you before more than you supposed; though, had he been persuaded that Ali had set fire to the ship, he would decidedly have got him and those who assisted him punished. He has been somewhat over-lenient, however; there can be little doubt about that.”

“De captain good man, no doubt about dat; too good for dis world, and for manage such rascal as Ali Tomba and his people.”

“Well, Potto,” said I, “I believe you, at all events; but if you have nothing more to say, I must try to find a cooler spot than this. I am almost roasted, and feel that I could not stand it many minutes longer.”

“No; I have told all I know,” said Potto. “But you just say to Mr Thudicumb, he be wise man, and keep his weather eye open.”

As I began to move off, Potto shouted out,—“Come here, Macco, you black rascal; be quick wid dem ’tatoes.” They were the sweet potato roots of which he spoke, by the by.

On going aft, I told Mr Thudicumb what I had heard. He thought for a few minutes.

“I suspect, Walter,” he observed, “the black is right. However, twelve men, let them be ever so cunning, cannot do us much harm, unless they again attempt to set the ship on fire. I never doubted that Ali had a hand in that before, though the captain would not believe it. At all events, if I had had my way, I should have got rid of him and his crew at the first opportunity.”

Soon after this the mate was engaged in conversation with the captain. I saw that my kind friend looked somewhat annoyed. He had made up his mind that Ali was honest, and that Potto Jumbo was fanciful, and I suspect did not like to be compelled to alter his opinion. He soon afterwards called me up, and cross-questioned me on the subject. He had a good deal to make him anxious. The navigation of the seas through which we were sailing is as difficult as that of any part of the world. Pirates also swarmed in all directions; and though they might not venture to attack so large a ship as ours while we were under sail, they might perhaps, should they find her at anchor, and be able to get round us in sufficient force to give them a prospect of success. There were also considerable difficulties in carrying on the trade in the places we were to visit, as both the Spaniards and Dutch were sure to throw every impediment in our way, their policy being to monopolise as far as they could the whole of the trade of these regions. Several times the captain went into his cabin to examine the barometer.

“Thudicumb,” he said, when he came out, “the glass is falling slowly and regularly. Depend upon it, this calm is not going to last. We will shorten sail at once. There is no use in having all this canvas hanging from the yards; and when the breeze does come, it will come quick and sharp. It may be only an ordinary gale, but I rather think it will be something considerably heavier.”

Mr Thudicumb immediately issued the order to the watch on deck to shorten sail. Some of the men looked about them with an astonished glance; but, accustomed to obey orders, they asked no questions, and the ship was soon under her three topsails, closely reefed, and jib.

“Whatever comes now, we shall be ready for it,” observed the captain.

Still the calm continued, and the heat, if anything, was greater than ever. The ladies were sitting on deck, keeping as cool as they could under their sun-shades, when Mr Hooker returned from below, and spread a map out before them.

“Here, Walter,” he said, turning to me, as I was standing near him, “it being my watch on deck, I am going to give a lecture; you may as well come and benefit by it. Here is a chart of the seas through which we are sailing. See bow vast is this Malayan Archipelago! Putting out Australia, it covers an area far larger than the whole of Europe; indeed, from east to west it is fully 4000 miles in length, and 3200 miles from north to south. Look at Borneo: the whole of the British Isles might be put down inside it, and yet leave a wide extent of country on every side. New Guinea is even larger; and Sumatra is fully equal to Great Britain. Then we have Java, Luzon, and Celebes, each as large as Ireland. I think we could pick out eighteen or more the size of Jamaica; and a hundred, of which none are smaller and many considerably larger than the Isle of Wight. Now, some people hold to the opinion that all these islands were at one time joined to the continent of Asia. I, however, believe that though a portion of them were, that the eastern part was united to Australia, and appeared above the surface of the water at a later period, forming a vast Pacific continent. We have thus three regions—Borneo, Java, and Sumatra—that have only a shallow sea separating them from each other and from Asia. Between Borneo and Celebes there is, however, a deep sea; as there is between Celebes and numerous islands to the east and south of it, including Sumbowa, Flores, Timor, Gilolo, Seram, Bouro, and many others of smaller size. New Guinea, again, with the Aru Islands, are separated from Australia by a very shallow sea; and it is remarkable that the animals found in these three regions differ considerably from each other. Many of those found in Australia and New Guinea are different from those found in Celebes, and the other islands surrounded by deep water. They, again, differ from the animals found in Borneo, Java, and Sumatra, which are mostly identical with those of Asia.

“A striking contrast will also be found in the scenery of the islands of volcanic and non-volcanic origin. A volcanic belt passes from the north, through the Philippine Islands, down to the north end of Celebes. There is then a break; and again it commences in the island of Gilolo, passing through Borneo, Seram, and Banda, down to Timor; then through Flores, sweeping round to Java, where there is an immense number of volcanoes. The island of Java contains more volcanoes, active and quiescent, than any other known district of equal extent. There exist forty-five at least, averaging 10,000 feet in height. Volcanoes, you must understand, have been raised up by the accumulation of matter ejected by themselves, consisting of mud, ashes, and lava. Frequently, although a mountain has been thrown up by volcanic action, no opening appears, though probably one will be found in the neighbourhood. Thus Java is entirely volcanic. In most instances volcanoes are found near the sea, when the materials of the mighty mound have been drawn from the surrounding surface, and into the hollow below formed by their abstraction the water has rushed: thus, although the sea might not have been there previously, a strait or gulf has been produced. At the very centre of the great curve of volcanoes I have described, is found the large island of Borneo; and yet there no sign of recent volcanic action has been observed, while earthquakes are entirely unknown. In New Guinea, also, no sign of volcanic action is known to exist: except at the east end of Celebes, the whole island is free from volcanoes. In my opinion, this volcanic action did not commence till a comparatively late period, so that it has not succeeded in obliterating altogether the traces of a more ancient distribution of land and water.

“I must now give you a short description of the contrasts in the vegetation of this interesting region. We shall find a great portion of the islands clothed with a rich forest vegetation almost to the summit of their highest mountains. This is the rule with regard to all the islands on the west. When we reach Timor, however, we find the eucalypti, and other trees characteristic of Australia. In Timor they seldom reach any great height, being dried up by the hot wind which, lasting for nearly two-thirds of the year, blows from the northern parts of that vast island. In New Guinea, the trade-winds blow from the Pacific. New Guinea, however, is freer from their influence, and is therefore covered by a rich and damp vegetation, the forest trees growing to a great height and size.

“By examining the zoology of these countries, we find evidence that the islands we have been speaking about must at one time have formed a part either of Asia or of a vast southern continent which embraced New Guinea and Australia. In Borneo we find the elephant and tapir; and in Sumatra both these animals, as well as the rhinoceros, and the wild cattle which are known to inhabit some part or other of Southern Asia: showing that at one time there must have been land communication with that continent, as those animals could not possibly have swam over the straits which now separate them. A large number of the smaller mammals are common to each island as well as to the continent. Birds and insects also found on the islands exist on the Asiatic continent. It might be supposed that birds would easily pass over narrow arms of the sea; but this is not so. With the exception of the aquatic tribes, what are called the perching birds will never cross the sea; and thus it is certain that they, as well as animals, must have existed on those islands before they were separated from the continent. The Philippine Islands possess many of the birds which are found in Asia; but at the same time there are other indications which show that they must have been separated from the continent at an earlier period than the other islands to the west.

“Now I wish you to observe that the numerous islands to the east of Celebes and Lombok have a strong resemblance to Australia and New Guinea, as much indeed as the western islands have to Asia. Australia is a very remarkable country. It is, indeed, in several respects, unlike any other part of the world. It possesses no tigers or wolves or bears or hyenas; no elephants, squirrels, or rabbits; nor, indeed, any mammals, except such as have been introduced almost within the memory of man, such as horses, sheep, or oxen. It has, however, what are called marsupials: kangaroos, opossums, wombats, and the duck-billed platypus. Instead also of the various birds which exist in other parts of the world, it has the mound-making brush-turkeys, the cockatoos, and the brush-tongued lories, as well as honey-suckers, to be found in no other part of the world. These peculiarities are discovered in the other islands I have mentioned, forming the Austro-Malayan division of the archipelago. Looking down to the south-east of Java, we shall find the small island of Bali. It is divided from the east part of the island of Lombok by a narrow strait, where the water is very deep, showing, as I have said, that the separation must have taken place at an early period of the world’s existence. Now in Bali we find woodpeckers, fruit-thrushes, barbets, and other Asiatic birds. Crossing this narrow strait to Lombok, the birds I have mentioned are no longer to be found; but instead of them there are brush-turkeys, cockatoos, honey-suckers, and other Australian birds. These birds again are not to be found in Java or any region to the west. Crossing from Borneo to Celebes, there is a very great difference in the animals. In Borneo, a vast number of various species of monkeys exist, as well as wild cats, deer, otters, civets, and squirrels. In Celebes, wild pigs are found, and scarcely any other terrestrial mammal, besides the prehensile-tailed cuscus.

“Thus, when we pass from the western to the eastern islands, we feel ourselves almost in a new region, so greatly do the four-footed and feathered tribes we find in the one differ from those we have left in the other. The Aru Islands and others in the neighbourhood agree in many respects with New Guinea, from which vast island a shallow sea alone separates them. Possessing this knowledge, a naturalist would soon be able to learn whether he had landed on one of the islands of the Asiatic or Australian portion of the archipelago, judging alone by the animals he might discover.”

Mr Hooker’s lecture, of which I have only given a brief outline, was suddenly interrupted by the voice of the captain shouting, “Up with the helm!—square away the yards!” I flew to my station. Looking astern, there appeared a long line of white foam, rushing forward over the hitherto calm surface of the ocean at a rapid rate, while clouds came rising out of the horizon, and chasing each other across the blue sky, over which a thick veil of mist seemed suddenly to have been drawn. In a few seconds a fierce blast struck the ship, making her heel over to starboard in a way which seemed as if it was about to take the masts out of her. Mrs Davenport clung to the cabin skylight, on which she was sitting. It was with difficulty we could save Emily and Grace from being carried away to leeward; indeed, they both cried out with terror, so suddenly had the gale broken on us.

Down, down the tall ship lay. It seemed as if she would never rise. The watch below rushed up on deck, looks of dismay on the countenances of many. The captain shouted to Mr Thudicumb, “Get the axes ready!” and pointed significantly to the mizzen-mast. The first officer repeated the order; and Mr Tarbox was seen coming along, axe in hand, followed by the carpenter and several of his crew. There was no time to be lost, it seemed. I could not help dreading lest another similar blast should send the ship over, and the sea, rushing up her decks, carry her to the bottom. The rudder had lost its power, being nearly out of the water, so that no means but the desperate one to which we were about to have recourse remained for getting the ship before the wind. The risk of those on deck being injured by the falling of the mast was very great. I made my way up to where my sister, with Mrs Davenport and Grace, were clinging to the cabin skylight, in order to conduct them below. The captain shouted to Mr Hooker, and signed to him to assist me. Unless, however, I had been aided by the second mate, I could scarcely have done so.

As soon as I had seen them into the cabin, I sprang again on deck. The sharp sound of the axe as it struck the mizzen-mast was heard at that moment. The shrouds on either side were cut, and over the mast fell into the foaming water. Still the ship lay as before. “It must be done, Thudicumb!” the captain cried, and this time the mate himself approached the mast, and stood with gleaming axe uplifted, ready to strike. The hurricane howled round us. Every instant the seas increased in height and fury, the spoon-drift from their summits driving in showers over our deck. The sea came rushing up every instant higher and higher over the lee bulwarks, up almost to the hatchways. The captain gave another glance to windward. Still the rudder did not act. “Cut!” he shouted, his voice sounding high above the roar of the blast. Mr Thudicumb’s glancing axe descended, while at the same moment the boatswain cut the weather shrouds; and as the mast fell over, several brave fellows sprang to leeward to divide those on the lee side. Still the ship lay helpless on the foaming water.

One more hope remained—the foremast must go; should the ship then be unable to rise, our doom must be sealed. Anxiously we all watched the captain. Again he looked to windward, carrying his glance round on every side. His hand was raised to his mouth, apparently about to give the same ominous order as before, when suddenly the ship rose up from her dangerous position; and now, feeling the power of the helm, away she flew before the fierce hurricane. Hour after hour we continued our course, wherever the wind sent us—chiefly, however, towards the east. It was impossible, with the fearful sea there was then running, to attempt to raise jury-masts. Should land appear ahead, we knew too well that there was every probability of our being cast on it. We might anchor, and with the masts gone, the anchors might possibly hold, but we could scarcely indulge in that hope—indeed, few on board had any expectation of escaping shipwreck.

Again and again the captain examined his chart. It could not, however, be entirely depended on. A bright look-out was, of course, kept ahead, that whatever danger there might be in our course might be discovered as soon as possible, and such efforts made as good seamanship might dictate to avoid it. The time was a very trying one. I should have been anxious had I no one I cared for on board, but I dreaded the danger to which my dear sister Emily might be exposed, and I felt, too, for Mrs Davenport and Grace. Men can more easily escape from shipwreck, and if cast on a desert island are better able to rough it, than females; but what hope would there be of two young girls escaping with their lives, should we be cast on shore? I had not forgotten either the remarks Potto Jumbo had made about the Lascars. I could not help fancying that they all had a more than usually sulky manner. When ordered to do any duty, they generally gave a scowling glance towards the officers, and performed it in a slovenly, indifferent manner.

Darkness came on, and still the wind blew as hard as ever, and the ship flew on before it. I had been on deck for many hours, and it was my watch below, and in spite of the danger we were in, I could scarcely keep my eyes open. Even, however, when I laid my head on the pillow, I knew that any moment I might be awakened by the fearful crashing of the ship striking on a coral reef, with the sound of our remaining mast going by the board. Before going to sleep, however, I went into the cabin, and entreated the ladies to lie down. Emily and Grace said they would, and Mrs Davenport urged them to do so, but I found that she had no intention herself of sleeping. She would, I guessed, sit up, and watch and pray for her young charges. I, however, was scarcely in my berth before I was fast asleep, in spite of the loud roaring of the seas, the wild motion of the ship, and the howling of the wind in the fore-rigging.

Chapter Nine.

The Moluccas.

Wonderful was the change which I found had taken place when I returned on deck. The sun was shining brightly, the wind had fallen to a moderate breeze. The sea, though heaving and dancing, sparkling brightly in the sunbeams, had gone down considerably, but still blew from the same quarter as before. The ship was standing to the east.

“We have passed through the Straits of Banca, and are crossing the Molucca passage,” said Mr Thudicumb, of whom I asked whereabouts we were. “The captain proposes making for Ternate, which belongs to the Dutch. We may hope there to get new masts—at all events, it is the nearest place which we can reach with the wind as it is at present, and have any hope of getting the ship put to rights.”

All day long we were busily employed in repairing damages as far as we could. I had but little time to exchange a word with Emily. I was thankful to find, however, that she and Grace had quite recovered their spirits, though they owned that they had been greatly frightened during the hurricane.

“Still it is a comfort, Walter, to know that there is One who always watches over us, and does everything for the best. If he had thought fit to allow the ship to founder, I am very sure he would have had good reason for so doing. Still, as I know he wishes us to pray for blessings, I was praying all the time that we might be preserved, and especially that no accident might happen to you, my dear brother. Oh, how I thought of you when you were on deck, and the storm was blowing and the masts being cut away, knowing the fearful danger to which you were exposed.”

It was soon after sunrise one morning, when, a light mist clearing away, before us appeared, at some distance from each other, several lofty conical mountains rising as it were directly out of the sea, while beyond them was seen a line of blue land, extending north and south as far as the eye could reach.

“You see that peak ahead, Walter,” said Captain Davenport to me. “That is the island of Ternate, to which we are bound. To the right of it is Tidore. All those peaks are volcanic; and some of them, I believe, occasionally throw up flames. The land we see beyond is the large island of Gilolo—a strange land, I believe, but very little is known about it.”

A light breeze carried us on over the calm blue sea; when at length, entering between the two islands I have mentioned, the town of Ternate appeared in sight, stretching along the shores at the very base of the mountain.

“This is indeed beautiful!” exclaimed Emily, who just then came on deck, as she gazed up at the rugged promontories and the lofty volcanic cone of Tidore on one side, with the high mountain of Ternate on the other, while numerous other peaks rose on the neighbouring islands, as well as on the larger island in the distance. Immediately behind the town appeared thick groves of forest trees; indeed, vegetation was seen rising to the very summit of the cone, and it was difficult to believe that, from that calm and beautiful mountain, occasionally lava, streams burst forth; and produced destruction on every side.

A large amount of sago, massoi bark, tortoise-shell, tripang, and paradise birds are brought over from Papua, and shipped at Ternate. A tax, however, is placed on the exportation of paradise birds, which is paid to the Sultan of Tidore, whose predecessors ruled these islands. The paradise birds are chiefly sent to China, where they are highly valued. Above our heads, as we looked up, we saw the lofty summit of the mountain of Ternate, from whence, amid the luxuriant vegetation which surrounds its sides, columns of smoke are for ever rising towards the blue sky above—indeed, the whole island is simply a lofty volcano, the base of which is beneath the ocean. Its circumference at the shore line is about six miles, and its height 5400 feet. Several severe and destructive eruptions have taken place at different times. The last occurred only a short time before we were there. The lava poured forth and flowed down its sides into the sea, loud thunders were heard, smoke and ashes rose up, and hot stones fell like hail on every side, setting fire to the dead wood which, after so long a rest, had completely grown over the ground, and causing it at night to assume the appearance of one vast mountain of flame. For fifteen hours the solid ground rolled like a wave of the sea. Fort Orange, which had withstood numberless earthquakes for two centuries and a quarter, was almost overwhelmed. The people betook themselves to their boats, for the ocean and land seemed to have exchanged natures; the water being calm, while the land was heaving and gaping like a stormy sea.

Captain Davenport had been unwell for some time. He was acquainted with a wealthy Dutch merchant in the place, who invited him and his wife and daughter to take up their residence at his country house while the ship remained in the harbour. They of course said they could not leave Emily, who therefore accompanied them. Mr Hooker also went on shore, but engaged a house at a little distance from the town, where he could pursue his researches in natural history more uninterruptedly than in the town. He lost no time in sending out hunters in all directions to procure specimens. The various specimens which he already possessed were landed, that he might also re-arrange them. I paid him one or two visits, and found him enjoying his existence excessively. His house had of course only one floor: the walls for five feet were of stone; the roof was supported above them on strong squared posts, the interval being filled in with the leaf-stems of the sago-palm fitted in wooden framings. The ceilings were of the same material. The floor was of stucco. There was a centre hall, with three rooms opening off it on one side and one on the other; while on two other sides were broad verandahs, serving as cool drawing-rooms, or sleeping-places, perhaps, in the hotter months.

This island was at one time in possession of the Portuguese, who were said to have tyrannised over the natives. They were driven out by the Dutch, who are themselves accused of not being over careful of the well-being of the people they conquered. This island and several in a line to the south of it are known as the Moluccas, or Spice Islands. It was the original country of the clove, and here alone it was cultivated. Although the early visitors procured nutmegs and mace from the inhabitants, these were brought over from New Guinea, and the neighbouring islands, where they grew wild. The early voyagers made such enormous profits by their cargoes of spices from these regions, that they were able to give in exchange, jewels, gold, and the richest manufactures, which they brought from Europe or India. When, however, the Dutch took possession of the country they determined to confine the production to one or two islands, over which they could keep a strict watch, in order completely to confine the monopoly to themselves. They chose the island of Banda for the cultivation of nutmegs, and fixed on Amboyna for the production of the clove. The cultivation of the nutmeg in Banda has been eminently successful, but that of the clove in Amboyna has scarcely paid its expenses; the soil and climate of that island not suiting it as well as the regions where it was first found. The object of the Dutch has been to keep the monopoly of the sale of spices in their own hands, and thus to raise the price. They have therefore compelled the native chiefs to destroy the spice trees growing in their territories wherever they have been able to do so. To induce them to do this, they paid to each a fixed subsidy, the chiefs indeed being therefore somewhat the gainers. Formerly their sultan kept the trade solely in his own hands, and he was far more tyrannical than the Portuguese or Dutch. When our own circumnavigator Drake visited these islands, he purchased his cargo from the sultan, not from the native cultivators. As I walked about Ternate I felt satisfied that I should not at all wish to take up my abode there, for in every direction were seen the ruins of massive stone or brick buildings of every description which had been overwhelmed by earthquakes; indeed, considering the frequency of their occurrence, it is surprising that people should be willing to remain in the island. I, of course, was not able to see much of the country, as I was compelled to be on board, the more so as several of the crew were ill, and had been removed on shore, where the merchant I spoke of had them kindly looked after. We had great difficulty in getting a mast of sufficient size to replace the mainmast we had lost. At length, however, we got both our lower masts in, and we hoped, in the course of a week, should Captain Davenport and the rest of the crew be sufficiently recovered, to continue our voyage.

One evening when work was over, Mr Thudicumb, with the second mate and several of the men, went on shore, leaving the ship under charge of the boatswain, with about a dozen Englishmen and the Lascars. I, having been on shore several times, agreed also to remain to assist Mr Tarbox. The weather had for some time been threatening, but the clouds had passed away, and the sky again become serene. That evening the same appearances occurred. I should say that at Ternate a number of people of different nations are collected together. The most numerous, probably, are the Chinese, and their curious little boats are seen skimming about in all directions. There are traders from all parts of the East, so that the harbour at times presents a very animated appearance. I was on deck with Mr Tarbox, when looking out we saw a thick mass of clouds come rolling up suddenly on every side of the mountains.

“I wish Mr Thudicumb and the mate were on board,” he said to me; “I don’t like the look of things. We must veer away more cable and get another anchor over the bows. See, the Chinamen begin to think there is something in it.”

As he spoke, a number of Chinese and other boats were seen pulling in for the land; before, however, they could reach it, a loud roaring sound was heard, and in an instant the whole ocean seemed torn up by some mighty power, and a fierce blast broke down upon us. The vessels in the harbour were seen endeavouring to secure themselves as well as they could; but in a few minutes numbers were driven together, grinding and striking against each other, while they were sent by the fury of the sea towards the shore. The boats, tossed like cockle-shells, appeared every instant as if about to be overwhelmed by the ocean; many were capsized close to us, but we could render no assistance. Every instant the sea rose higher and higher, till we could scarcely see the shore beyond it. The ship, however, held well to her anchors. It was fortunate for us we had no top gear aloft, or the case might have been different.

“I only hope Mr Thudicumb and the rest are safe on shore,” I observed to Dick Tarbox.

“They will not attempt to come off while this gale is blowing.”

In a short time, a fearful havoc was made with the various craft in the harbour. Around us wrecks strewed the sea in every direction; here and there poor fellows swimming for their lives, some holding on to pieces of planks and spars. Many sank before our eyes. Boat after boat was upset. Some, however, rode over the seas in gallant style, the men on board pulling bravely. The fury of the gale increased. We veered out more cable. Night at length coming on, added to the wild horrors of the scene. Now, as a vessel drove past us, we could hear the shrieks and cries of the unhappy crew as they were carried to destruction. Such, in spite of the size of our stout ship, might be our fate should the anchors not hold.

Suddenly the wind dropped; still the sea continued to leap and foam around us.

“It will be all right, I hope,” I said to Mr Tarbox. “These hurricanes seldom last long, I fancy.”

“Not quite so certain of that, Walter,” he observed. “I don’t like the look of the sky even now.” Once more examining the cables, he walked with me aft, from whence we could better see the shore.

“Hark! what is that roaring?” I said. It seemed as if a blast was sweeping over the land, hurling down trees and buildings and all impediments in its course. “Can it be an earthquake? Oh! what will become of my sister and those on shore?”

“No, it is no earthquake,” answered the boatswain; “it is the hurricane shifting its quarter.”

As he spoke, the wind struck the ship with redoubled force. She swung round before it; still, knowing that our anchors had been holding, and our cables strong, we had little fear of receiving damage, as the sea, at all events, with the change of wind, would subside instead of being increased. Suddenly, however, a peculiar sound was heard, as of a chain running out. The boatswain rushed forward, and I followed him; but we were only just in time to see the end of the chain cables flying through the hawse-holes, and away the ship drifted out of the harbour.

“That did not happen by chance,” exclaimed Tarbox; “it is the work of those Lascars. Quick, lads, for your lives!” shouted the boatswain. “Range our spare cable! Get the second bower-anchor from the hold!—Now you, Ali Tomba, see that your men work,” he added, turning to the serang.

The English seamen worked away energetically; but in the dark it was a difficult business to get up the heavy anchor and chain cable. The Lascars were apparently assisting as zealously as the rest of the crew. Some accident or other was, however, continually occurring; and before the anchor could be got up and the cable ranged, the ship was in the centre of the channel, driving away at a rapid rate out to sea. At length the anchor was got ready for letting go. Scarcely, however, had it been got over the bows than with a loud splash it fell into the water free of the chain.

“Ali Tomba, you or your people have played us that trick!” exclaimed the boatswain.

The serang made no answer, but a cry of mocking laughter was heard from several quarters. Roger Trew, lead in hand, flew to the chains. He gave one heave. “No bottom,” he cried. “We cannot bring up even if we wish!”

I asked the boatswain what he proposed doing. “We ought to punish those Lascars, for they have played us that trick,” I observed.

“Little use to attempt to do that, Walter,” he answered. “If I was a navigator I might know more about it, but my only notion is to let the ship drive. When the hurricane is over, we must try to do our best to regain the harbour.”

“I am not much of a navigator yet,” I observed, “but I will look at the captain’s chart, and see whereabouts we are going. We shall, at all events, better know then what to do.”

“Ah, there’s nothing like learning,” observed Tarbox; “I wish I had more of it. What a seaman can do I will do, and with your help, Walter, we may still weather this gale.”

I hurried into the cabin, and soon found the chart. It afforded me but little satisfaction, however. We were driving to the southward, but several islands were in our course. We might escape them, but if driven against them, our destruction would be certain. With sails unbent, and short-handed as we were, we could scarcely hope to be able to get under the lee of one of the islands.

“We must try it, though,” said Tarbox. “We have another anchor and cable, and that will hold us well enough in a moderate breeze with land to windward, unless these Lascar fellows play us another trick. I should like to clap them all in irons at once.”

I agreed with him, but as we only mustered twelve men besides ourselves, and they numbered eleven, it would be no easy matter to do so, especially as they would probably be prepared for an attack. I, however, advised the boatswain to keep all our people together, that in case the Lascars purposed our destruction, we might not, at all events, be cut off in detail. He agreed to the wisdom of this caution, and sent Roger Trew to get the people together.

Our position was indeed a very fearful one. The hurricane seemed rather to increase in strength than to cease. On, on we drove. The helm was put up, and we scudded before it, the dark seas rising on either hand hissing and foaming, and every moment seeming about to overwhelm us. I could not help feeling also great anxiety about those we had left on shore. Even should they have escaped injury, I felt how anxious Captain Davenport would be when he found that the ship had disappeared; and Emily, too, how great would be her grief at the thought that I was probably lost. What the Lascars were about, I could not tell. Our people remained aft, while they kept forward. I have gone through many trying scenes, but that was decidedly one of the most trying. We felt it the more because we were personally safe. We could walk about and take our food, but at the same time we were every moment expecting destruction. I was soon to be in a far more dangerous position, but then I was looking out, hoping to be saved.

The morning at length broke. We saw the Lascars clustered forward. What they were about to do we could not tell. Still we drove on. Land appeared on either hand in the far distance. It was evident that we were between two islands. The chart showed me that one was Gilolo, and the other the island of Batchian. The want of sails prevented our taking the ship into some sheltered place which we might hope to find on one side or the other.

“We must either compel the Lascars to assist us in bending sails and getting the anchor ready, or attack them and drive them overboard,” said the boatswain to me.

“That cannot be done without bloodshed, I fear,” I answered, “for they are armed as well as we are.”

Thus the two parties remained watching each other. Our men were eager to make a dash forward and attack the Lascars, but the boatswain restrained them.

“Wait a bit, lads,” he said; “maybe they will attack us, and then, if we beat them, as I am very sure we shall, we shall not have their blood on our hands. Depend upon it, if they slipped the cables—and I am very sure they did—they did not expect the hurricane to continue so long as it has done. They wish it over as much as we do; and, like many other villains, in attempting to work us injury they are likely enough to bring destruction on their own heads.”

Hour after hour passed by, and once more the land seemed to recede from us, and we were in the open sea. The wind had slightly gone down, but still it blew with fearful violence. Again darkness was stealing over us. Our deck presented a strange appearance—a very sad one, in truth. The small number of human beings there collected, instead of helping each other, stood prepared for a desperate fight. Possibly, if it had not been for the Lascars, we might long since have been anchored in safety. I saw by the chart that several small islands, rocks, and shoals lay ahead. Should we escape them? There was the question. Several times the boatswain, or Roger Trew, or one of the other men, had ascended the main rigging to look ahead in search of land. However, so high did the sea run, that we might be close upon an island, unless it was a high one, without discovering it.

The increasing darkness now prevented us seeing beyond the bowsprit. All we could do, therefore, was to steer as we had hitherto done before the sea, to escape its breaking on board us. We had scarcely eaten anything for some hours, when the boatswain advised us to take some food. “Whatever happens, we have work before us; and we must keep the strength in our bodies,” he observed. Fortunately there was a good supply in the cabin, and half our party went down at a time to sup, leaving the others on guard on deck. All hands had just taken a hearty meal, when, as we were collected together on the quarter-deck, just below the poop, the sound a seaman most dreads—the roar of breakers—struck our ears. We all listened attentively. There could be no doubt about it. It was far deeper and louder than the roaring of the sea against our sides. I held my breath; so I suspect did every one round me.

“What is it, Mr Walter?” asked Oliver, who was standing close to me.

“Some of us will meet with watery graves before many minutes are over,” said the boatswain, “unless Providence works a miracle to save the ship.”

Scarcely had he spoken when we felt the ship rising to a heavy sea, then down she came with a crash which made every timber in her quiver and shake.

“To the main rigging!” cried the boatswain, seizing me by the collar. I saw Roger Trew seize Oliver in the same way. “Quick, quick, lads! or the next sea will wash you off the deck,” cried the boatswain.

We sprang into the shrouds, and climbed up, up, up into the pitchy darkness. Scarcely were we off the deck than a huge sea came rolling up, sweeping everything before it. The Lascars had done as we had set them the example, and numbers of dark forms were seen swarming up the rigging into the fore-top. Another and another sea followed. No longer could we distinguish the deck below us, so completely overwhelmed was it by the raging waters. Higher and higher they rose. The masts swayed about as if on the point of falling. Fearful, indeed, was the scene. The boatswain, getting into the top, helped me up, and I found myself seated with Oliver by my side. We could just distinguish the foremast through the gloom, the sea rising almost to cover the top to which the Lascars were clinging, curling over them as if to drag them from their perches.

Perilous as was our position, a cry escaped our men as we saw the foremast begin to totter. Another sea came and over it went, carrying the shrieking wretches clinging to it away in its embrace. Though good swimmers, in vain they attempted to reach the mainmast. The next sea swept them away to leeward. Their fate might be ours, however, any moment. We all knew that very well. With what desperate energy did we cling to that lone mast in the midst of the raging ocean. As we looked round our eyes could not pierce the thick gloom, nor ascertain whether any land was near. Oliver Farwell was clinging on next to me. The other men had secured themselves round the mast, others to the top. No one spoke; indeed it seemed to all of us that our last moments had arrived. Every instant we expected to be hurled off from our unstable resting-place, as the seas dashed with redoubled fury against the wreck. We could hear the vessel breaking up below us, and we all well knew that in a short time the mast itself must go for want of support.

Scarcely had one roaring wave passed under us than another followed. Above our heads was a dark, murky sky, below and around the foaming sea. Even the best manned life-boat could scarcely have lived amid that foaming mass of water.

“It is very terrible!” I could not help exclaiming.

“Trust in God,” said a voice near me.

Oliver Farwell spoke.

“I do, Oliver, I do,” I answered.

“Right, Mr Walter,” he said. “If he thinks fit he can find a way for us to escape.”

“Hold on, lads, even though the mast gives way!” shouted the boatswain. “The mast will float us, and maybe carry us to some pleasant shore. Daylight will come in time, and show us whereabouts we are. Never fear, lads.”

“Ay, ay,” answered several voices. “We will cling to the mast as long as our fingers can gripe hold of it.”

“Hold on, Oliver, hold on!” I said. “Don’t you feel as if the mast was going?”

Scarcely had I uttered the words when another sea came rolling up. It struck the shattered wreck like a huge hammer. In an instant it seemed as if all her timbers had parted. A cry rose from many of the sturdy men on the top. Over bent the mast. Now it swayed on one side, now on the other, and then with a crash down it sunk into the boiling ocean. I thought that I had been holding on securely, but at that instant a sea swept by, catching the end to which I clung. I felt myself torn from my grasp, and was carried far away off amid the seething waters.

Chapter Ten.

A desert island is reached.

As I was washed away from the mainmast a cry from Oliver reached my ears. I knew by this that he too had been carried off by the sea. I sprang towards him. “I will save him or perish!” I thought, “as I did once before.” He had not been idle since his first accident, and had done his best to become a swimmer. He kept up boldly. I urged him to try and recover the mast, but when we looked round we could discover it on neither side. Now I felt myself carried to the summit of a sea, to be hurled over again on the other side. I had little hope of escape, but still I resolved to struggle to the last. Oliver swam bravely by my side, but I knew from the exertions he was making that he could not long continue them.

“Oh, I am sinking! I am sinking!” he cried out suddenly. I caught him by the collar. At that instant, as I put out my hand, I felt it grasp a hard object. It was a large spar. I threw myself on it, dragging Oliver with me. With great difficulty I hauled him on to it, but so violent was the agitation of the sea that we could scarcely retain our hold. It seemed to me that we were driving onwards, carried perhaps by some current, but that might have been fancy. Again and again I looked out, in the hopes of seeing the mast. Every instant I feared that Oliver would again be washed off, but the foaming sea around and the dark sky above was all I could discern. I put out my hand, and caught hold of a rope which was secured to the spar. The end of this I passed round Oliver’s body, fastening myself with another portion. Still, though I kept my head well out of water, the sea was so continually breaking over us that we were almost drowned, even though clinging to the spar. I do not pretend that I thought of much at the moment but my own safety and that of my companion, but the thoughts of my old friend, Dick Tarbox, and Roger Trew, as well as indeed of the other men, did come across my mind. I felt very sad, for I was afraid that they had been washed off, and had not been so fortunate as we were, in getting hold of a spar. Strange as it may seem, I scarcely for a moment expected to lose my own life. In a cold climate I do not think I could have held on as I did, but the sea was warm, and I did not feel in any way benumbed.

The previous part of the night had appeared very long; this, however, seemed far longer. I often felt very sleepy, but I was afraid, if I gave way to sleep, that I should lose my hold, and resisted the influence. Had I been alone, I felt that I should not have held on, neither perhaps could Oliver Farwell, but we encouraged each other. We did not say much, but not a minute during the whole night passed without our exchanging a word or two.

At length I began to hope that the sea was going down: indeed, after a little time it appeared evident that the water was calmer. It did not break over our heads so frequently as at first. I thought with what joy we should welcome the first streaks of day. At length, as we rose to the top of a sea, we caught sight of the sun himself rising above the horizon. The clouds had cleared away, the wind had almost completely fallen. How gloriously the sun shot upwards in the clear blue sky. Still the ocean rose and fell considerably. As we again reached the top of a billow, I caught sight of an object at no great distance. At first I thought it was a rock just above the water, but on looking again, I saw it was a piece of wreck, and on it was seated a human being. I looked again and again, and so did Oliver. We were certain that we could not be mistaken. We shouted at the top of our voices. We saw the person look round. Again we shouted. He stood up. He had not discovered us. At length I managed to get my knees on the spar, and to kneel and wave my hand above my head, shouting at the same time. He now saw us, and waved his hand in return. At first I thought he was one of the Lascars, but now I saw that it was Macco. The raft on which he floated afforded far more security than did our spar, but how to reach it was the question. In smooth water I might have pushed the spar before me with the help of Oliver. Presently we saw Macco slip off the raft and strike out towards us. He swam beautifully. I did not think a human being could make such rapid way through the water. In a short time we saw his dark-skinned face close to us.

“Ah! ah! Bery glad, Massa Walter. Bery glad to see you safe.”

“What has become of the other poor fellows, Macco?”

“I not know. Come now, I help you to get on my raft.” Saying this he swam round, and began pushing the spar before him, one end first, by which means it was easily driven through the water. It took us some time to reach the piece of wreck, which appeared to be part of the poop-deck. Getting on it himself, he hauled up Oliver first at my request, and then assisted me, making fast the spar to one side. The deck, under which were some beams, floated well, and supported us completely. We were thankful that our lives had been thus far preserved; but yet here we were, out in mid-ocean as far as we could see, without land in sight, and with no provisions, not even a drop of water to support life. We all too well knew that unless help should come, our lives had only been preserved to suffer a more lingering death than the one we had escaped. One of my first impulses was to stand up and look round, in the hope of seeing the mast, with some of my companions clinging to it, but though several pieces of wreck were visible, nothing of the mast could we discover. Macco could give very little account of the way he had escaped. He had, I found, been in the top, and a sea striking him had washed him away; but being a good swimmer, he struggled manfully for life, now floating on his back, now looking round in the hopes of seeing something to which he might cling. At last he found himself close to the deck; which, indeed, was on the point of being thrown over him, when, had he been struck, his fate would have been sealed. Darting away from it, however, he escaped the danger, and then swimming round, succeeded in placing himself upon it.

“I so glad,” he exclaimed, “dat I saved my life, because now I try to help save yours.”

Oliver and I thanked him very much, though I said that I could not exactly see how that was to be.

“A way will be found,” observed Oliver, quietly. “Let us trust in God; he knows how to bring all things about.”

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the heat became very great, striking down upon our unprotected heads. Fortunately we had all eaten a good supper; but after a time we began to feel hungry, and thirst especially assailed us. Oh, what would we not have given for a glass of water! My companions were inclined to drink the salt water; but I had heard of the danger of so doing, and urged them to refrain from the dangerous draught. Oliver and I had fortunately on our jackets. These were soon dried, and covering up our heads with them, we lay down to sleep on the raft. In an instant, it seemed to me, my eyes closed, and I forgot all that had occurred, and the fearful position in which we were still placed. I suspect that Macco must have slept too, though when we lay down he said that he should keep on the watch. I was still dreaming, with my head covered up, thinking that I was seated at dinner at my old school, and that a number of fellows suddenly burst in, shouting out that it was to be a half-holiday. The noises grew louder and louder; and presently a voice shouted close to me. It sounded strangely like that of Macco; but how he came to be at school I could not tell. Throwing the jacket off my head, I started up, and there I saw close to us a large native prow. She was full of fierce-looking people, whose voices I had at first heard. Macco, who had been asleep, had not till just before perceived them. Oliver rose at the same time that I did.

“If they are human beings, they will treat us kindly,” he observed, standing up, and waving his hand.

Macco seemed far from satisfied with their appearance. “Me no like dem fellows,” he said; “dey cut t’roat—eat! eat!”

“No fear of that,” I observed. “She looks to me like a trading prow, though her men certainly would suit the deck of a pirate.”

However, we had no choice. It was now perfectly calm, and the prow rowed up to the raft, the men in her making signs to us to come on board. As the vessel’s side touched the raft, ropes were thrown to us, and we soon clambered up on her deck. The people began to shout to us, evidently asking us questions; which, of course, we were not able to answer, not understanding a word that was said. The vessel was a strange-looking craft, with large mat-sails, her deck sloping from the stern down to the bows, which were by far the lowest part. In the after-part was a poop-deck; under which there was a sort of cabin, while a small house of bamboo in front of it formed another cabin. She was steered by two rudders, one on either quarter, the tiller ropes coming in through ports in the sides, and being worked by men who sat on the deck under the poop. Her crew were brown-skinned men, in the usual dress of Malay seamen; that is to say, a pair of trousers fastened round the waist, a handkerchief encircling the head, and a thin cotton jacket, which, however, was thrown off when they were at work. Their captain, however, wore a handsome costume. He was seated on a cushion just before the poop, enjoying the luxury of an evening smoke, a long pipe with a bowl being in his hand. We were now taken up before him; and he again put questions to us, which of course, as before, we were unable to answer. At length we heard him shouting out to the men forward. One of them came aft, and the chief said a few words to him. On this he turned round to us, and said, “Talky Inglis?” I nodded. “Where you come from?” he asked, pretty quickly. I told him we had been wrecked at no great distance, and had been floated away from the place. After I had put my explanation in several different ways, he seemed to understand me. He explained what I had said to the chief, who seemed greatly delighted, and immediately issued some orders to his men. They forthwith got out their sweeps, and began pulling away in the direction, we supposed, of the wreck. I was very glad of this, as I thought there was a possibility, should any of our companions have escaped drowning, of finding them.

I now told our interpreter that we were very hungry and thirsty. He understood me more by the signs I made than the words, I suspect; and, nodding, made me understand that some food would be brought us. “But we are thirsty, thirsty!” I exclaimed. Indeed, my parched tongue made me feel that without a draught of water I could scarcely swallow food. On this our interpreter, going into the hold, brought up a thick cane of bamboo, and pulling a stopper out of the top, showed us, to our great satisfaction, that it was full of water. I never enjoyed a more delicious draught. I thought of my companions, however, and handed it to Oliver, who passed it on to Macco, after which I took another pull at it; and so we continued passing it round, till we had drained the contents.

We were ready by this time for dinner, and were thankful to see several dishes brought out of the little building which formed the cook-house on deck. The chief signed to us to sit down and fall to. One was rice; of that there was no doubt. Another, too, I soon discovered to be that most valuable production of the East, the bread-fruit: this was cut in slices and fried. The third, however, puzzled me excessively, and its appearance was far from attractive. There was, besides, a little saucer with red pepper. Oliver and I at once attacked the bread-fruit, when Macco pointed to the other dish.

“Eat, eat; good!” he said.

“Do you take some of it,” I observed, unwilling to begin.

He immediately did so, swallowing a good portion.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You know; what sailor call ‘squid,’” he answered. “Dem very good.”

I now guessed that it was octopus, or ink-fish, the favourite food of the sperm whale. I would rather have kept to the bread-fruit and rice; but Oliver was not so particular, and took a little with some red pepper. On his pronouncing it very good, I followed his example, and found it far more palatable than I had expected, and I doubt not very nutritious. I remembered having heard that it was dangerous, after a long fast, to eat much, and I therefore took but little. Oliver also was equally abstemious. Macco, however, laughed at my warning, and very soon finished off the contents of the dishes.

We hoped, from the hospitable way we were entertained, that we should continue to be treated equally well. After we had finished our repast, Oliver and I felt very sleepy. The chief seeing this, made signs to us that we might go into the bamboo house and rest. It was very clean and neat; a sort of sofa being on one side, on which there was room for Oliver and me to lie down, one at one end, and one at the other—with our legs somewhat drawn up, to be sure, as the whole length was not more than six feet. We must have slept there the whole night; for when we got up we found the sun just rising, while the chief and his crew were turning their faces towards Mecca—or where they supposed it to be—and offering up their morning prayers. By this we knew that they were Mohammedans: such, indeed, is the religion of a large number of the people of the archipelago inhabiting the sea-coasts.

We had time to look about us, and examine the strange craft we had got on board. She had no masts, but the sails were hoisted on huge triangles, which could be lowered at pleasure. Her anchor, too, was of curious construction: it consisted of a tough, hooked piece of timber, which served as the fluke or hook, being strengthened by twisted ratans, which bound it to the shank; while the stock was formed of a large flat stone, also secured by ratans to the shank. I observed that all the crew were armed; and on a small piece of timber in the bows a small swivel gun was placed, a similar piece being fixed in the after-part of the vessel. The cable also was formed of ratan, which, though strong, could easily, I suspected, be cut by rocks.

We found, on seeing Macco, that the vessel had made but little progress during the night, having anchored near a reef in order not to pass the spot where the wreck was supposed to have occurred. Little notice of us was taken by the chief or his men: they all seemed eagerly looking out for the expected wreck. We also kept our eyes about us in every direction, earnestly hoping that she might appear; but not a sign of her was visible. I thought I saw a sail in the far distance. I pointed it out to Oliver. He was of the same opinion; so was Macco: but whether the natives saw it or not, we could not tell.

We continued our course, the breeze being light. After a time the prow was steered first to the right, then to the left. Then she made a traverse to the south as near to the wind as she could lay (which, by-the-by, was not very near, even with the aid of her oars); but though several reefs were seen, on one of which probably the ship had struck, she was nowhere to be discovered. We saw, however, pieces of timber and various articles floating about. At length we caught sight of a long object in the water. We steered towards it. Yes; it was the very mast to which we had clung! So it seemed to me, and so Oliver thought. If so, what had become of our unfortunate companions? Shortly afterwards another mast was seen. A human form was entangled in the rigging. We eagerly looked down on it as we passed. The dark skin showed that it was the body of one of the Lascars. The mast was undoubtedly the foremast to which they had clung. A light boat was launched from the deck of the prow, and three hands went into it to the mast. I saw that they were taking off the girdle of the dead man. As they lifted him up I distinguished the features—so I thought—of Ali Tomba, who had been the cause of the destruction of the Bussorah Merchant. Leaving the body, the men returned with the sash and clothes. They were examined, and found to contain a considerable number of coins, at which the natives gazed with eager eyes.

Their whole conduct now changed towards us. The chief had seated himself in his usual place on the deck, when we were dragged up to him, and he made signs to us to empty our pockets. Oliver and Macco had, of course, but a few small coins: I had rather more, but no great sum, in Dutch money, which Captain Davenport had given me to make some purchases in the town of Ternate. I suppose they had treated us with civility at first, not understanding that our ship was entirely lost, and perhaps expecting that our countrymen would have punished them had they behaved ill to us. The chief seemed very angry at finding we had so little of value about us. He now made us a sign that we were to be gone from his presence. We sat down in the shade before the house, in the centre of the deck, where Macco began to bewail our hard fate, observing that he was sure the natives would kill and eat us. I endeavoured to comfort him by saying, that as they were Mohammedans they certainly would not eat us, though I could not be answerable for their not taking our lives; and, as far as I could, I endeavoured to persuade him to be prepared for whatever might happen.

“The great thing, Macco,” said Oliver, joining in the conversation, “is to be sure that He who lives up there,”—(and he pointed to the blue sky)—“who made this world, and all those stars we see, loves us, his creatures whom he has placed on the earth; and if we trust him, he will do everything that is best for us.”

“But how I know he does love us?” asked Macco. “He let many people die; many be drowned; many be killed with blow up mountain or shake of earth; many die fever, plague; many kill each other.”

“Very true,” answered Oliver. “Sometimes he lets those who love him best die. He does not say that he will keep even his friends alive; but if he takes them out of a bad world and puts them into a good one, does not that show his love? Some of those who are killed in the terrible way you say, are not his friends; but we know he loves us, because he gave One he loves better than anything else, to die for us, to be punished instead of us. We deserve punishment; we all feel that. He has told us, too, that he loves us; and if we believe the Bible, we must believe that. If man had not sinned, but had always been good and obedient, we might have reason to doubt God’s Word; but we are sure that man has sinned, and continues sinning, and it was sin which brought all this suffering on man. Besides, again, as I said, we must not look upon death—the mere death of the body—as a punishment. It may be a great blessing; it is indeed so to many. But then, again, Macco, we cannot pretend to understand all God’s dealings with us.”

I listened very attentively to these remarks made by Oliver. A new light seemed to break on me. God’s love! God’s love!—oh, how little do we understand that! It is only a knowledge of that which can enable us in any way to comprehend his dealings with man.

“You see, Macco,” continued Oliver, “that God is just as well as loving. He punishes those who continue to refuse his offers of mercy. With many he tries loving-kindness first. Sometimes his love makes him afflict people for the sake of bringing them to him, making them feel their own helplessness. The great thing of all, however, is to know for a certainty that he loves us, and that whatever he does is for the best. When a man is sure of this, he trusts to God, whatever happens. I have a loving mother, who taught me this. I am very sure it is the most valuable knowledge she could have given me. Though we know that we are sinners, and deserve punishment, yet we also know that when God’s Son became man and died on the cross, being sacrificed for our sins, he took away the sins of all those who trust to him; and so, instead of being sinners in God’s sight, when we thus trust to him we are made pure and holy, and fit to go to heaven—nay, sure of going to heaven when we die. If you believe this, Macco, you will not be afraid even though the people round us should suddenly jump up and kill us all, and throw us overboard.”

Macco was silent for some time. At length he looked up, and said,—“Bless you, Oliver; you tell me great truth. I no fear to die now.”

I felt indeed grateful to my young companion. His words had given me a courage I could scarcely have expected to possess; and though I did not feel indifferent as to our fate, yet I was prepared, at all events, far better than I should otherwise have been for whatever might happen.

The native seamen sat round in the bow of the vessel, eating from a huge dish of rice, with some dried fish of some sort, seasoned with red pepper. After they had eaten their fill, they put down the remains of the dish—into which they had all plunged their unclean fingers—before us, much in the way they would have put it before a hungry dog, and made us a sign to eat it if we chose. At first I could scarcely bring myself to touch the food; but Macco urged me to do so, and he and Oliver at length beginning their repast, I could no longer resist the desire to eat.

I could not make out exactly whether we were on board a trader or a pirate; perhaps a mixture of both. If she was a trader, I concluded she was bound to the coast of New Guinea for tripang, or sea-slug—considered a great delicacy by the Chinese and other people to the north; perhaps for pearls to the Aru Islands, or for other productions of the southern part of the archipelago. We found, at all events, that they were steering to the south. For several days they stood on, not altering their course. We were treated in the same manner as we had been since they had failed to discover the wreck of which we had told them. They gave us but scanty food, and allowed us but little water. The interpreter no longer came near us, while scowling looks were cast at us from every side. At length an island appeared on our port-bow, towards which the prow was steered. It was thickly wooded, down to the very water’s edge. A variety of strange-looking shrubs were seen, with lofty and elegant palms rising above them. What they were going to do we could not surmise. Having got close in, the sails were lowered, and the anchor let go. A boat was then launched. As we were standing looking towards the shore, the chief touched me on the shoulder, and made signs that I was to get into the boat. I knew that resistance would be useless. Two men then stepped in. I also did as I was ordered. He then signed to Oliver and Macco to follow; Macco going forward, and Oliver and I sitting in the stern. We endeavoured to ascertain from the chief why we were to be carried to the island; but he did not answer, making only an impatient gesture to us to be off. Without wasting further words, we took our seats, and the two men began to pull away towards the shore.

Chapter Eleven.

Our Island.

A ledge of rocks running out from the land formed a small natural harbour, into which the boat ran, and soon reached the sandy beach. Here the crew made signs to us to land. We obeyed, for resistance, of course, was useless. I jumped on shore, followed by my two companions, and scarcely wetting our feet, we reached the dry beach. The men, then giving a shove with their oars, pulled away, leaving us on what appeared to be an uninhabited island. Why we were thus treated we could not comprehend.

“I do not see that we have any great reason to complain,” observed Oliver. “We should have been very thankful had we reached this island on the raft, and we ought to be very much obliged to those people for carrying us here. They might have taken us to some place and sold us for slaves, or might have creesed us and thrown us overboard.”

“You are right, Oliver,” I answered; “and we must try to make the best of it. I only hope we may find food and water. Unless they were less than human, they could scarcely have placed us on an island which they knew was destitute of water.” We made these remarks as we watched the boat rowing away toward the prow. She soon reached the vessel, was hoisted up, and the prow made sail to the southward. We now sat down on the beach, to see what was best to be done. Macco had his sailor’s knife, fortunately, secured with a lanyard round his neck. I had a large clasp-knife in my pocket, which, though, like my clothes, somewhat the worse for having been wetted with salt water, was still serviceable and sharp.

The first thing was to survey our island, we agreed, and to try to find water. The shore was lined in many places with the curious pandanus, or screw-palm, which may well be described as a trunk with branches at both ends; or rather the roots seem to have lifted the trunk into the air and to have assumed the appearance of branches. Its woody fruit, about five inches in diameter, is in the form of a sphere, and is regularly divided by projections of a diamond shape.

The jungle was so thick that we could penetrate but a very little way through it, with great difficulty. Walking along the beach, we reached a small opening—a miniature gulf, as it were, into which apparently a stream of water had at some time flowed, though at present the bed was perfectly dry. Looking up it, we discovered a high hill some little distance inland; we agreed that if we could make our way to that, we might thence have a better view of the surrounding country. We had not gone far when we came to a grove of bamboos. We each of us cut down a couple: one we pointed to serve as a weapon of defence; and the other we formed into the shape of a gouge to serve as a spade, with which we intended to dig for water, should we not find any stream or pool. Still, from the rich vegetation which appeared on every side, we had little doubt that water would be found. Proceeding up the dry water-course, we approached the hill; but it grew narrower and narrower, till at length the trees and underwood, with numberless creepers, so completely blocked up the way, that we could scarcely force a road through it. Still, to the top of the hill we had determined to go. Making use of our knives, we cut away the creepers, sometimes crawling under the trees, sometimes climbing over the stems which bent across our course. Once more we saw the summit of the hill. It appeared much higher than we at first supposed it to be. At length we were rewarded for our exertions by finding that we were actually ascending the side. On we went, the underwood becoming less dense as we rose higher and higher. We now had little difficulty in making our way, the trees and shrubs indeed assisting us in climbing the steep sides. When, however, we got to the top, we found that what we had supposed to be small shrubs were, in reality, large trees, covering it so thickly that the view on every side was shut out.

“I am afraid we have had all our toil for nothing,” I observed.

“I am afraid so, too,” said Oliver.

“Stay, Massa Walter,” observed Macco. “I climb to top of dis tree, and den see what I can see.”

He pointed to the lofty palm under which we were standing. Descending a little way, he cut a quantity of creepers, which he soon twisted into a strong hoop round the tree and his own body. He now began, by placing the hoop a little way above him and leaning back, to climb upwards, and with wonderful rapidity reached the summit. We asked him what he saw.

“We on good big island!” he shouted out. “Plenty of wood; but no see water. Dere oder islands.” And then pointing to the south-east, he cried out,—“Dere more land, long, long away dere!”

“Do you make out any vessel?” I asked.

“No; only prow go away to de south.”

“That must be the coast of New Guinea,” I observed to Oliver. “I only hope none of the inhabitants may come over to this island, for they are terrible savages.”

“If they come, we must keep out of their way,” said Oliver. “It would be better to remain here than to be carried off and eaten by them.”

Macco, having ended his survey, descended the tree. I tried to get up the same way, wishing to take a look round myself; but I found that, though not a bad climber, I could not manage it. Seeing no great use in persisting in the attempt, I gave it up. We could find no other way down to the shore, besides the one up which we had come. Having cleared away some impediments, we had less difficulty in returning than we had found in going upwards. Macco led; indeed, his knowledge of woodcraft in his native country was of great service to us, for I believe without him we should very easily have lost our way, even though we had left the marks of our knives on the creepers as we went up. As we were pushing on, my eye caught sight of some trees in a hollow on one side, which I at once knew to be sago-trees, from the description Mr Hooker had given me of them.

“See!” I exclaimed to Oliver, “there is a supply of food sufficient to last us for months, or years, indeed, if we can manage to manufacture the sago; and I think we shall have little difficulty in doing that.”

I pointed it out to Macco. He knew them at once.

“Yes, yes!” he said; “dey bery good. I make food from dem. Come to look for water dere.”

Following him, we proceeded to the hollow I have mentioned. The ground was low and soft, and gave us some hopes of finding water. We instantly set to work, digging with our bamboo spades. We dug and dug in the soft earth; but though it was somewhat moist, not a thimbleful of water appeared. Still we did not despair. Oliver proposed that we should look for another spot at a lower level, where we might hope to be more successful. We accordingly set to work to force our way through the jungle towards the shore. Even with sharp axes we should have found some difficulty; but it was very heavy work with our knives. Still, it had to be done. Water was the first thing we required. We had progressed a hundred yards or less, though it had appeared to us upwards of a mile, when we heard close to us a peculiar cry, which sounded something like, “Wawk—wawk—wawk!—Wok—wok—wok!” loud and shrill above our heads. On looking up we caught sight of a magnificent bird, with rich crimson wings, and a long pendant tail like strips of satin. The head, and back, and shoulders were covered with the richest yellow, while the throat was of a deep metallic-green. The end of the side plumes had white points. I had little difficulty in recognising the bird of paradise, and I remembered Mr Hooker speaking of one which he called the red bird of paradise. This, I had little doubt, was the bird before us. Away he flew, however, followed by a smaller bird of a sombre brown plumage, which I could scarcely have supposed was his mate, had I not known that the wives of these gay-plumaged gentlemen are nearly always robed in Quaker-like simplicity. As he went, he appeared to be pecking away at the fruit of various trees over which he passed. It seemed surprising, too, that his long ribbon-like tail should have escaped catching in the thick foliage through which he rapidly flew. We, poor creatures, scrambling through the lower part of the forest, had a difficulty in making our way, without losing our close-fitting garments; indeed, as it was, they were sadly torn by the underwood. We were rewarded for our exertions, by reaching another hollow in which a number of the sago-palms grew.

The sago-palm has a creeping root-stem, like a nipa-palm, and Mr Hooker had told me that when it is nearly fifteen years old it sends up an immense terminal spike of flowers, after which it dies. It is not so tall as the cocoa-nut tree, but is thicker and larger. The mid-ribs of its immense leaves are twelve or fifteen feet long, and sometimes the lower part is as thick as a man’s leg. They are excessively light, consisting of a firm pith, covered with a hard rind. They are frequently used instead of bamboo; entire houses, indeed, are built of them. They serve for the roofs of houses, as also for the floors; and when pegged together, side by side, they form the centre part of the panels of frame houses. As they do not shrink, but look clean and nice, without requiring varnish, they serve better for walls and partitions than do ordinary boards. Boxes, also, are made of them; indeed, it would be difficult to describe the numberless uses to which they are put. The trunk, however, is the more valuable part, as the pith of the interior is the staple food of large numbers of the inhabitants of these regions. I will not stop here to describe how the sago is made; but I will do so shortly.

We again set to work with our bamboo spades, and dug away most energetically. Some moisture on the ground encouraged us to proceed, while the burning thirst from which we were suffering increased our anxiety for success. As we dug lower the ground became soft, and more and more moist, when Macco, putting down his hand, brought it up full of liquid mud. “Water come soon,” he exclaimed, digging away more energetically than before.

“Hurrah!” I shouted. “A spring! a spring! We are indeed lucky!”

“Let us rather say that God is merciful,” said Oliver, though in so low a voice that it seemed scarcely as if he intended me to hear him.

“You are right,” I answered; “I do feel grateful.” Some bamboos grew a short way off, and Macco, running to them, soon cut several pieces, leaving the knots at the ends to serve as bottoms; we thus in a few minutes were each supplied with a serviceable cup. By this time the thick mud had settled down, though the water was far from limpid. We each of us eagerly took a draught to quench our thirst. Thus, then, we were supplied with the first necessary of life. By this time we had all become very hungry; though we felt sure we could manufacture some sago out of the sago-palms, yet it would be a work of time. Our chief hope of obtaining food immediately was on the sea-shore—we might at all events find shell-fish. Macco told us he was sure he could manufacture some fishing-lines and hooks; the latter out of the bones of birds, and the lines from some of the numerous creepers with which the island abounded. While this was being done, however, we should be starved; we therefore made the best of our way round through the path we had already made to the shore. I had often thought the matter over, and I was sure that many persons had lost their lives from not immediately setting to work to try and find the means of subsistence. I had read of two parties being cast away on the same island at a short distance from each other: the one perishing; the other, from their energy and perseverance, existing for many months, and ultimately escaping.

Oliver needed no urging, and Macco especially seemed ready to exert his faculties in obtaining food. We looked along the beach, but the water was up, and no shells with live creatures in them could we find. There was no lack of empty shells, however, some of them of great size and beauty, such as would fetch a high price in England.

“They are of very little use to us,” I observed.

Macco heard me. “Not so sure of dat, Massa Walter,” he said, for I should remark that, having learned his English from Potto Jumbo, he spoke very much in his way. “Here dis big shell make good cook-pot; here clean out dis, make good cup; here plates, and here dis make good spoon,” and he picked up shells of different shapes.

“I wish, however, we could find something to put into them and cook,” I could not help saying.

Soon after, we had reached the beach where we had landed. We found the sand soft and fine. Macco looked about, and then exclaimed, “Ha, ha! here’s somet’ing;” and he began digging away with the bamboo spade. In a short time he produced a couple of turtle’s eggs: we hunted, and soon found several more. “Dese do till tide go down and we find shell-fish,” he observed.

Though very hungry, I had no fancy for eating turtle’s eggs raw. “We must try and find the means of lighting a fire,” I observed. “Do you think, Macco, you could produce a flame with two pieces of wood, as is done in some countries?”

“Not so sure,” he answered; “but if we had flint, I soon find pith to set on fire.”

From the character of the island, which appeared to be entirely volcanic, I had no hope of finding flints. Just then it flashed across me that a few days before I had been using a glass from my telescope as a burning-glass, and I recollected putting it in my pocket on being called off suddenly to attend to some duty; I had little hope, however, of finding it unbroken. I put my hands into my trowsers pockets, and then into my jacket pockets, but it was not there; neither was it in my waistcoat pockets, but there was a hole in one of them, and after feeling about, I found it had worked its way round into the corner of the waistcoat by my side. It had thus escaped being broken, or discovered by the Malays when they took away our money. I produced it with great satisfaction. Macco ran off immediately, and came back with some dried pith and a bundle of sticks. We soon produced a flame and had a fire burning. Macco then made a collection of round stones, which he put on the fire, at the same time filling one of the shells with water. “Too much water,” he observed, turning some of it out. He then transferred the hot stones to the water, which began bubbling and hissing as if it were boiling. “Put in the eggs,” he observed; “soon boil dem.” We followed his advice, and in four or five minutes the eggs were boiled thoroughly, quite as well as if they had been put into a pot on the fire. We had now no danger of starving, for the present at all events; and indeed, if we could manufacture the sago, we might supply ourselves with food sufficient to last for any length of time.

The tide had, meantime, been going out, and here and there where the rocks were exposed we caught sight of shell-fish. I, however, knowing even in that climate the danger of sleeping entirely exposed to the night air without a roof over the head, advised my companions at once to set to work and build a hut. We accordingly went back to the sago-palm grove, and cut down as many of the leaves as we could carry. With these we returned to the beach, on the highest part of which, just under the trees, we proposed putting up a temporary hut, till we could get a more permanent building. We soon had an edifice erected, something like a North American Indian wigwam, into which we could all creep and lie conveniently at full length. By this time the tide had gone down, and by crawling along the rocks, Macco was able to capture a number of shell-fish. This he did by cutting them off the rock with the bamboo spear: our only fear was lest they should be poisonous. We asked him what he thought about the matter. “All right,” he answered; “dem good for eat.” He had brought an ample supply for our supper; some were roasted, but others were boiled as we had done the turtle’s eggs. After this, commending ourselves to One whom we knew would watch over us, we lay down in our small hut to sleep.

The sun was just rising out of the horizon when we awoke; the sea was calm and blue, and the sky was beautifully clear. Our first discussion while at breakfast on turtle’s eggs, was the best means of manufacturing the sago. If we could get a tree cut down, there would not be much difficulty; but how to fell it with our clasp-knives was the question.

“Perseverance conquers all difficulties,” observed Oliver. “I remember the story of the mouse letting the lion out of the net by nibbling away at the meshes. We can work away at the stem with our knives, and do a little every day, in the meantime subsisting on the eggs and the shell-fish.”

“Yes, yes,” said Macco; “we choose small tree, enough for us to live on for many days, and we soon have him down.”

Before starting, however, the tide being still low, we collected a further supply of shell-fish. As we were proceeding along the beach, we saw, just rising as it were out of the water, a small ridge. “What can that be?” I said, drawing nearer to it. I saw, as I got close to the water’s edge, that it was a huge bivalve. As far as I could judge, it was alive. I called my companions, and catching hold of it, we dragged it up, though our united strength could with difficulty accomplish our object.

“Take care no put hand inside,” said Macco, “or he bite bery hard!”

I am certain that I am right when I say that it could not have weighed much less than a hundredweight. It would afford us not only one, but several meals probably, if the creature inside bore any proportion to his house. I did not know the name at the time, but I afterwards learned that it must have been a specimen of the Tridacna gigas. I have since heard that the shells themselves, without the mollusc, weigh even more than that; indeed, I afterwards saw some in use of larger size. Having captured our prize, however, we found that there was some chance of our not being able to get at the mollusc inside; for when the difficulty of opening an ordinary oyster-shell is remembered, the force required to get at the inside of so large a shell as this would be no easy task. It was important, however, to get the creature out at once, for if it were exposed to the sun, it would, in all probability, not be fit to eat by the evening. Macco, ever fertile in resource, ran off, and soon returned with a supply of bamboos, which he split up into fine long wedges. He hunted about on every side till he found a small opening; into this he instantly inserted the fine point of a piece of bamboo, and going round the shell, placed another in a similar position. There was no lack of pieces of coral rock lying about which had been broken off by the sea, and thrown up on the beach; these served as hammers. “Now,” he cried out, “strike! strike altogether!” We did so, but Oliver’s instrument and mine made no impression; Macco’s, however, went right in, and seemed to cut some part of the creature; for directly afterwards, by using the wedges as levers, we lifted up one of the valves, and exposed to view a huge mass of blubber-like flesh. Macco seemed highly delighted. “Dat bery good, bery good!” he exclaimed, and soon cut the whole away from the shell, and held it up to let the water run out.

“I should be very hungry before I could eat that,” I observed.

“Ah, Massa Walter,” he answered, “you will be bery hungry if you no eat dis, and many oder curious t’ings. De great t’ing is, if good to eat. If good, no mind looks; better to eat dis dan starve.”

With some powerful blows, he separated the two shells, and now begged us to carry them up to the hut. “Dey hold water,” he observed; “and we soon have all we want to live well.” Having made up the fire, he cut three very long bamboo stakes, with which he made a triangle over it, so high that the flames could not reach the poles to burn them. From the centre he hung down the huge mollusc, so that the smoke might circle round it. “Dere,” he said, “dis now dry, and keep well till we want eat it.”

Chapter Twelve.

Our life on the island.

The success we had already met with in finding food raised our spirits; but I knew the risk we should run of losing our health if we could not obtain vegetables was very great. I therefore urged my companions to set to work at once and try to get the sago manufactured.

“Come directly,” said Macco, collecting a quantity of half-dried leaves. These he placed on the fire. He then covered them up with green twigs, thereby preventing the flames bursting out, at the same time producing an abundant smoke. “Dere, dat do bery well,” he observed. “No creature come to carry off de fish, and he well dry when we come back.”

I cannot say I felt any great confidence in the success of his experiment; and I thought it of no great importance even should it fail, as I began to hope that we should have a sufficient supply of food. We soon found a palm of moderate dimensions, which we might hope, even with our knives, to cut down in the course of a day or two by working away assiduously. What, however, would take us several days, a sharp axe would accomplish almost in the course of almost as many minutes. However, we could all three work at once.

“You take one side, Oliver; Macco, you take another; and I will take a third,” I observed.

“Stay, Massa Walter,” he answered; “you no want to break head. Do dis first. You cut here; Oliver cut here; and I go make rope.”

Some ratans were growing not far off; he immediately began cutting them away, and having collected a large supply, twisted them ingeniously into a rope. Oliver and I had made apparently but little impression in the tree by the time he had done so. Taking the rope, he climbed up as before, to a considerable height, where he fastened it, and then carried the other end to another tree at some little distance, so that it might fall to the ground clear of its companions.

“Now,” he said, “do bery well;” and taking out his knife, he began to work away with great energy. So dexterously did he ply his instrument, that he soon had made almost as much impression as we had done, who had been working so much longer a time. The ratans I speak of, though allied to palms, are creepers. They grow from the ground, climbing up a tree, and then running along the branches, and descending again, mount up another tree, or sometimes climb from branch to branch. They often encircle a tree, which, in time, is completely destroyed; while they survive, forming an extraordinary intricate mass of natural cordage on the ground. In some places the original trunk had entirely disappeared, leaving only the ratan. They greatly ornament the forest as they hang in graceful festoons from branch to branch, or adorn their summits with feathery crowns of leaves, their highest points being erect leafy spikes which rise up above all the other foliage.

Macco had collected several lengths of this curious creeper, each perhaps of fifty fathoms; and having twisted them together, had formed a very strong rope. The natives make their cables of them, as well as the standing rigging of their masts; indeed, they are used for all sorts of stout cordage. While we were working away, looking up, I saw on the branch of a tree, at no great distance, as if watching our proceedings, an animal with a small head and very large bright eyes. He was covered, apparently, with very thick fur, and, I soon saw, had also a long tail, which was curled on a branch below him. As we did not move, he began eating away in a fearless manner the leaves from a branch which hung near his snout. He reminded me somewhat of the opossum, covered with thick, pure white fur, on which appeared a few black spots of various shapes. I pointed him out at length to Macco. “He good eat,” he whispered. “I catch him.” Several pieces of small ratan lay near us, and taking one of them, he formed a noose, with which in his hand he crept towards the tree. On considering what the animal could be, I recollected one called the cuscus, a picture of which I had seen in one of Mr Hooker’s books. “Yes, I am sure that must be a cuscus. It is a marsupial, or pouch-possessing animal, like the kangaroo,” I said to Oliver. Macco quickly climbed the tree, and reached a branch just above the cuscus. Not till then did the creature catch sight of him, and began moving along the branch, but at a very slow pace. Macco immediately climbed down towards us and followed it. Just, however, as he was approaching, cuscus let go his hold, hanging down by his tail. It was a fatal manoeuvre, for Macco’s noose was immediately let drop, and quickly drawn over the head of poor cuscus, who in vain tried to liberate himself with his claws. He was now a captive, and Macco, keeping the noose tight, descended the tree. Cuscus held on by his long prehensile tail; but Macco pulled and pulled, and down the animal came with a flop to the ground. His claws were so sharp, that it was rather difficult to take hold of him without the risk of being severely scratched. Macco called out to us to bring him one of the bamboo spears. With this he transfixed the poor creature to the ground; but even then it struggled, and not till he had made use of his knife, half severing the head from the body, did the creature die. It looked somewhat, in its white, woolly covering, like a small, fat lamb; but it had short legs, hand-like feet, with large claws.

“He make bery good dinner for us,” observed Macco. “No fear of our starving. Dat good t’ing.”

Oliver and I were very glad, and thanked him very much for catching the creature. However, I urged him to go back at once, that we might continue our work on the sago-tree, for I was sure that, though by eating flesh and fish we might support our lives, we should not retain our health without bread, or a substitute for it, which the sago would afford. From the height of the sun, in addition to the hints of our own appetites, we guessed that it was already past noon. We therefore proposed returning with the cuscus to our hut. Tying up the legs of our prize with the ratan, we passed a piece of bamboo through them, and took our way by the path we had cut to the beach. Our fire was out, and the number of flies collected round our mollusc made us doubtful whether we were not too late to preserve it from destruction.

“Soon drive dem away,” said Macco, and bringing fresh fuel, he piled it up under the triangle. “I get fire dis time,” he said. “I see man on board de prow do it de oder day.”

Taking a piece of bamboo sharpened like a knife in one hand, he held another piece in the other, split in two, with the convex part uppermost, in which he had cut a small notch. He began passing the sharp piece slowly over the other, as a fiddler does his bow over his fiddle—strings, increasing in rapidity, till, in a very short time, the powder produced by the friction ignited, and fell down upon the ashes. This he quickly blew up, and even more rapidly than I could have done with my burning-glass, a flame was produced. The smoke which ascended soon sent some of the flies to a distance, while the others fell down into the fire. This gave us a hint that we must not leave any of our food exposed, or that it would very quickly be destroyed.

“Cuscus better for dinner dan dis,” he said, for he had heard me name the creature; and he at once began to draw off the skin; then cutting some slices off the animal, he soon had them toasting on forked sticks before the fire.

“I wish I had some salt,” I observed, pointing to the large shell in which we had boiled our eggs. The water had evaporated, leaving the sides and stones covered with saline particles. By scraping this off, we had an ample supply of salt for our meat.

“It strikes me, Mr Walter,” said Oliver, “that we may be able to manufacture enough salt to preserve the animals we kill, for the time may come when we may not be able to obtain any, and possibly it might be a better way of preserving them than by drying them in the smoke.”

“In dry, cool weather we might do so,” I observed; “but in this hot climate I doubt whether we could get the salt in with sufficient rapidity to stop putrefaction. However, of course, it would assist in preserving the meat.”

“I am afraid you are right, Mr Walter,” he answered. “At all events, it is satisfactory to know that we can procure salt for our daily use.”

“Oliver,” I said, “I must ask a favour of you—it is, not to call me Mr Walter. A common misfortune has made us brothers, and as a brother, I am sure, I shall ever look upon you.”

“I will do what you wish,” said Oliver, “for I owe my life to you; yet, though I regard you as a brother, I do not feel myself your equal.”

“Do not talk of that, my dear fellow,” I said. “We will not bandy compliments. I should have been very miserable had I been left on this island by myself, or even with so honest a fellow as our dark-skinned friend here; for though we two might have been like Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday, I have often thought that Crusoe must have passed many dull and melancholy hours, without a companion with whom he could exchange ideas on equal terms.”

I felt much more at my ease after I had said this to Oliver. I had long looked upon him as a very superior lad. His earnest piety, his courage and his coolness, had made me greatly respect him. Had I been told to choose a companion in the situation in which I was placed, I certainly should have selected him. Our meal over, we went back to our sago-tree, and commenced our work. We made some progress, but still clasp-knives were very inadequate tools for the work we had undertaken. Every now and then, as we were labouring on silently, we heard the same cry of Wawk—wawk—wawk!—Wok—wok—wok! and caught sight of magnificent birds flitting among the higher branches of the trees, but so rapidly did they move, that we could scarcely distinguish their forms. We knew them, however, to be birds of paradise, which Mr Hooker had fully described to us. I knew from this that we must be on an island very close to the shores of New Guinea, as Mr Hooker had told me these birds are only found in that vast country, or in the surrounding islands. When Europeans first arrived at the Moluccas to obtain cloves and nutmegs, which were then supposed to be rare, and considered of great value, they saw, in the possession of the natives, dried skins of birds of beautiful plumage and unusual shape. On inquiring their name, they were told that they were God’s birds. As the bodies shown them had neither feet nor wings, they easily believed the story they heard, that they had fallen from the sun, and the Portuguese therefore called them birds of the sun. The Dutch, who came afterwards, gave them the name of birds of paradise. One of their early writers declared that no one had ever seen them alive, that they existed only in the air, invariably keeping their heads towards the sun, and never reaching earth till they died. Even as late as 1760 they were supposed to have no feet, and Linnaeus calls them footless birds of paradise. Another account says that they come to some of the spice islands of the East to eat nutmegs, which so intoxicate them, that they fall down senseless, and are then killed. Mr Hooker, however, assured me that they were found only in New Guinea, and in a few groups of islands in its immediate neighbourhood. There is a considerable number of species of this bird, all of which have a magnificent plumage. They are of moderate size, and are allied in their habits and structure to crows, starlings, and to the Australian honey-suckers. I longed to get some of these beautiful birds; but at present we had too much important work on which our existence might depend to allow me to make an attempt to obtain them.

We laboured on till the sun nearly reached the horizon, and then hurried back to our hut. As may be supposed, as we passed along the shore we took an anxious look-out in every direction to ascertain if any sail was in sight; but the distant horizon still remained unbroken, as it had been since the prow which had brought us to the island had disappeared across it.

I was still unwilling to attack the mollusc; but Macco, cutting off some slices, toasted them before the fire, and declared them very good. I preferred supping on the remainder of the turtle’s eggs, as did Oliver. He, however, tried a bit of the mollusc, but agreed that, unless more perfectly cooked, it was likely to prove very indigestible. Having finished our repast, we crept into our hut. I should have said we had strewn it thickly with leaves to serve as a mattress. The nights were warm, and as there was no wind, we required no covering beyond that afforded us by the roof. We agreed, however, that as soon as we could manufacture some sago, we would build a more substantial mansion, in which we might be able to live should the rains come on.

I cannot describe the incidents of each day; for having no note-book, they are somewhat mixed up in my memory. For two days we laboured on at the tree, and had now begun to make some progress. I became somewhat eager at length, and hacked away incautiously with my knife. In so doing, I caught it in the wood; and in drawing it out again, snapped the blade across. Here was indeed a misfortune.

“O Massa Walter,” exclaimed Macco, “dat bad!”

“It is indeed,” I said; “for though you and Oliver may in time get through the trunk with your knives, it will certainly take much longer.”

“Not so certain of dat,” said Macco. “An idea strike me. You take my knife—don’t break it, though—and I come back by-and-by and see what I can do.”

Saying this, he handed me his knife, and with greater caution I continued my task.

“We must be content to chop out a little at a time,” observed Oliver. “Perseverance will succeed in the end. It might even be done with a penknife, if we did not attempt to work too quickly.”

Macco, after being absent an hour, returned with several articles in his hand. One was a thick flat shell, something like an oyster-shell, only very much larger. He had also brought some pieces of wood, with some fibre to serve as string, and some small sticks of bamboo. He sat down near us, and taking the shell, formed with the bamboo a small drilling machine. With wonderful rapidity he worked away, drilling first one hole and then another in the shell, till he had formed a line completely across it. He now asked for his knife, and shaped away the wood he had brought. Placing two pieces, one on each side of the shell, with another at the back, he secured the whole together by means of the fibre, binding it round and round through the holes, till he had formed a serviceable-looking axe.

“Dere,” he said, lifting the weapon.

“Let me have it!” I exclaimed. “I will work away gladly with it.”

“No, no, Massa Walter,” he answered. “I make de axe, I use it; if you make it, you use it.”

Macco, lifting his newly-made axe, advanced to the tree, and began chopping away with careful and delicate strokes. He cut off only very thin slices at a time, but by degrees he increased the rapidity of his strokes, and I soon saw would produce far greater effect than we could do with our knives. When he stopped, we set to work again. By the end of the day, we calculated that we had got through more than half of the trunk. It showed, at all events, what perseverance could do; and in good spirits we returned to the shore. It was some time before sunset, but we were anxious to try and find some more turtles’ eggs. In vain, however, we searched; and thinking that we might possibly find some more further on, we continued our walk along the shore. We had gone some distance without meeting with any success, when, the brushwood appearing somewhat lighter, we determined to proceed a little way inland. We had not gone far when we found a large mound fully six feet high, and, I daresay, not less than twelve feet across. What it could be, we could not at first tell. It seemed as if a building of some sort had stood there, and the whole had tumbled down and been broken to atoms. We had our bamboo spades with us, so we took it into our heads to dig into the mound. It appeared to be composed, on examination, of dead leaves, stones, earth, and rotten wood, and sticks of all sorts—indeed, every variety of rubbish. At first I thought it might possibly be an ant’s nest, as I had read of the curious buildings formed by those creatures. I had begun on one side; but Oliver went to the very top, and began digging away. Macco could not assist us, as he said he had seen nothing of the sort before. One thing we were certain of, that the mound was artificial.

“I am afraid we are only wasting our time,” I observed; “and it will be better to go back to the shore to look for turtles’ eggs; and perhaps we may catch a turtle itself.”

I had already begun to walk away, expecting my companions to follow, when Oliver cried out, “Stay!—stay!—see here!” and he lifted up a large egg of a light brick-red colour, fully as large as that of a swan. I hurried back, and now, assisting him to dig, we uncovered a considerable number—two or three dozen at least. I now recollected having heard from Mr Hooker of a bird called the megapodius, which lays its eggs in large heaps. It is said that a number of birds make these mounds together. For this purpose they are furnished with large feet and long curved claws, to enable them to scrape up the dirt and rubbish. This they are supposed to do by labouring together; and they then, making a hole in the centre, lay their eggs in it and cover them up. The heat caused by the fermenting leaves is sufficient to hatch the eggs; and the young birds then work their own way out of the mound, and run off in a most independent manner into the woods, picking up their food as they go. They are quite independent of parental control, and seem at once to obtain all the knowledge they are ever likely to possess. We determined to watch for the birds themselves, when we had time, to learn more about them. Of the fact that they thus lay their eggs, we now had a very pleasant proof.

“Stay,” said Macco; “I make baskets to carry de eggs.”

Ascending a tall palm-tree, he cat from the top some fan like leaves, and descending, speedily wove them into three baskets, sufficient to carry away our prize. We left, however, a portion to be hatched, not liking to take the whole—indeed, there were more than we should probably require while they remained good. We had not got far with them, when a dreadful idea struck me.

“Suppose they are nearly hatched,” I said; “I am afraid they would be uneatable!”

Macco understood me, and laughed heartily. “Oh, dem bery good,” he answered. “Little bird better dan big, bird.”

However, I could not agree with him. To satisfy myself, I at once broke one. Greatly to my delight I found that it was perfectly fresh; and probably, had we approached the mound more cautiously, we might have found the parent birds in the neighbourhood, for it was evident that the eggs could only just have been laid.

As may be supposed, we made a hearty supper. On examining our larder, we found that the flesh of the cuscus was still perfectly fresh. At first I had some repugnance to eating a new animal. However, the steaks which Macco cut from the creature’s fat sides looked so tempting that I did not refuse the portion he offered me, and found it very delicate. As the eggs were more likely to keep than the flesh of the animal, we agreed to preserve it for our morning’s meal, cooking only one, which we divided amongst us. A couple we agreed would be sufficient for a hearty meal; indeed, one was almost enough to satisfy a moderate appetite. While we were eating it, we discussed the best plan for keeping our eggs.

“What do you say to trying to hatch some of them?” said Oliver. “We may then have some poultry about us, as I suppose, if we were to begin when the birds are first hatched, we might tame them, and then, in case of necessity, we may kill them for food.”

There appeared to be no great difficulty in imitating the parents’ way of building. We therefore constructed a mound, similar in character to the one we had discovered, and placed half-a-dozen eggs at the same depth that we had found them. And, as far as we could recollect, in the same position. The others were hung up in the air on the branch of a tree in baskets, that they might be kept as cool as possible, hoping thus that they would remain fit for food till they were exhausted.

“What cause we have to be thankful!” said Oliver. “See tow bountifully we are supplied with food; and the care thus taken of us by a kind Providence should make us trust that we may some day be rescued from our position, and restored to our friends.”

Chapter Thirteen.

The treasures of our island.

The next morning, as we took our way to the sago wood, our ears were saluted by the loud cries of some of the birds of paradise; and looking up, we saw a vast number of them collected on the tops of some lofty trees in the forest, having immense heads of wide-spreading branches with scanty foliage, though with large leaves. Suddenly the birds began to move about in the most extraordinary manner, stretching out their necks, raising their beautifully-tinted plumes, and elevating their wings, which they kept in a continual state of vibration. Now they flew from branch to branch backwards and forwards, so that the trees appeared filled with waving plumes, and every variety of form and colour. “Why, they are dancing in the air!” exclaimed Oliver; and truly it seemed as if they were expressly performing a dance for our entertainment. The wings appeared to be raised directly over the back. The head was stretched out, bending downwards; and the long hinder feathers were elevated and expanded, forming two superb golden fans, striped with deep red at the base, and fading away into the pale brown tint of the body. Their heads were yellow, their throat emerald-green—though even the bright tints were scarcely perceptible amid the rich golden glory which waved above them. They appeared to be of the size of crows, the bodies being of a rich coffee brown. Their long gold and orange feathers, which form their most conspicuous ornament, spring from the sides beneath each wing; and I found afterwards, when I examined one of the birds, that when in repose they are partly concealed by them.

We could scarcely move from the spot, so delighted were we with the beautiful appearance of these magnificent birds. Now and then, also, superb butterflies of gorgeous colours flew by us; while here and there, as the sunlight penetrated amongst the branches of the trees, we saw, creeping along the ground or up the stems, numbers of glittering beetles, of equally beautiful tints.

At length, however, we repaired to our sago-tree. Macco used his newly-formed axe with as much judgment as at first; we as before working away at intervals with our knives. At length he exclaimed, “Me t’ink tree fall now. You go to end of rope and haul, haul. Take care far enough off; and I cut, cut.”

Macco again shouted; and Oliver and I hauling with all our might, we saw the lofty tree bending forward. We ran back even further than was necessary, and down it came with a crash upon the ground, which echoed through the forest, and startled several creatures, which went flying or leaping, it seemed to us, among the branches or over the ground. One, however, in a little time came back again, and we saw a curious black face looking down upon us. “A monkey or baboon!” I cried out. A chattering cry was the answer, and the black face disappeared among the branches.

We could do little more towards preparing the sago that evening. On passing through a more open part of the forest, our eyes were gladdened by seeing some large fruit hanging from the top of some palm-trees. “Cocoa-nut!—cocoa-nut!” cried Macco. Yes; there was the long-coveted cocoa-nut; and apparently mature. Macco, as may be supposed, was very quickly at the top of the tree, and engaged in throwing down the nuts.

“Stay!” I cried out; “don’t pick more than are necessary, and we may have them fresh.”

We had soon torn off the fibrous covering, and knocked a hole in one of the eyes. How deliciously cool and sweet did the juice inside them taste!

“That is refreshing!” exclaimed Oliver. “I am glad we have begun on the sago-tree, or we might have been lazy, and not have taken the trouble to cut it down.”

“Yes, indeed,” I answered; “and remember the cocoa-nuts will only last for a time, whereas the sago will keep as long as we require it.” Here was another addition to our store of provisions, for which we had truly cause to be thankful.

Next morning we set to work to cut off the leaves and leaf-stalks, and we then took off a strip of bark from the upper part of the trunk. We now had the pithy matter exposed, which in the upper part is of snowy whiteness, and of the consistency of a hardish pear, with woody fibres running through it, a quarter of an inch from each other. We had seen, the pith removed by means of a club, with which it is pounded while still in the trunk. Our next work, accordingly, was to form a couple of clubs for the purpose. It was a difficult matter, however, to cut a piece of hard wood suitable for our object. After hunting about for some time, we could find nothing to suit us. At last it occurred to me that we might load the end of a stout piece of bamboo, which might, at all events, do better than nothing. We accordingly cut some pieces, and going to the shore, fixed in the bottom of each a lump of coral rock, which Macco managed to secure in a neat and at the same time thorough manner. With these we commenced operations, and though the process was slower than it might otherwise have been, we found that we could manage to beat out a considerable quantity of sago pith.

While Oliver and I were proceeding with this work, Macco who was far more ingenious than we were, commenced the operation of the washing machine. This he formed of the large sheathing bases of the leaves, in the shape of a trough. The object is to strain the sago pith. With the fibrous covering from the leaf-stalks of the cocoa-nuts he soon twisted a net-like strainer. The trough, I should say, is deep in the centre and very shallow at the end; thus the starch which is dissolved sinks down to the bottom of the trough, while the water runs away from the upper part. Macco made also some baskets out of the sheathing bases of the leaves, in which we might carry the sago.

We now set out with our materials to our spring. There was not as much water as we should have desired, but still it seemed to come bubbling up in sufficient quantity for our purpose, without fear of exhausting the supply. Macco, having formed a number of trestles of pieces of bamboo sticks, rested the trough between the forks, the straining place being placed on higher trestles than the strainer in the centre, so that the water might run down into the trough below. The strainer was now stretched across the upper part of the trough, and putting in our sago, Macco began to pour the water from the shell which he had brought for the purpose. We eagerly watched the process. In a short time a good deal of thick matter seemed to run off, leaving only refuse in the net. This refuse we threw aside, and supplied its place with fresh sago. This we continued doing till our trough was nearly full, and the water being allowed to run off, we found a fine mass of sago starch with a slightly red tinge. We now made this up into thick cylindrical masses, as we had seen done before, and covered them up with the sago leaves.

Truly thankful for our success, we carried off the sago we had thus manufactured to our encampment. We agreed, however, before commencing any other operation, to turn all the pith we had obtained into sago, as we might not otherwise have time to manufacture a further supply. Our difficulty was to cook it. We had seen it eaten boiled with water. It then forms a thick glutinous mass, and salt is mixed with it to give it flavour, as it is of a somewhat astringent taste. We tried boiling some in one of our shells; but before the sago was sufficiently boiled the shell caught fire. We, however, managed to eat it, and mixing it with salt, found it palatable. We then determined to try and make some bread of it. To do this, however, we had to build an oven. This, without difficulty, we formed in the earth. We then filled it with hot embers. Having pounded our sago in a shell, we mixed it with water, and made it into small cakes. These we placed on stones in the oven. In our first experiment we burned up our cakes, as we kept them too long in. We then agreed that we would try and make a baking-pan, such as we had seen formed. This is a square box made of clay, with several divisions, into each of which a cake is placed sideways. The difficulty, however, was to form this oven; and we agreed that we would try and find some clay and manufacture one. At the next attempt we kept the cakes in a much shorter time, and found them sufficiently palatable. We were occupied for more than a week in manufacturing our sago. It was probably very inferior to what is made by more experienced persons. At the same time it was wholesome, and would be a great addition to the animal food we were likely to procure.

One evening, as we approached our hut, after our day’s work was over, we heard a noise inside. We approached noiselessly, with our bamboo spears ready for use, thinking, probably, that wine animal had got inside. Just as we were within ten yards of the entrance, out popped a large black creature, which turned round chattering and grinning at us, and then bolted off as fast as it could, with a lump of sago in its paws. “Monkey! monkey!” cried Macco, giving chase with his spear. The creature was, however, I saw, a baboon, from having no tail, or an imperceptible tail if he had one, the part he turned towards us being bare of hair, and of a ruddy hue. He was far too nimble, however, even for Macco to overtake him, and up he sprang into a tree, going chattering among the branches, dropping the sago, however, in his flight. I recognised, as he turned round, the face I had seen watching us when we were making the sago.

We agreed that we must secure our provisions, or he, having discovered our store, would perhaps return with many companions to pilfer it. I heard afterwards that only one species of baboon is found thus far east, probably introduced by Malay seamen, who constantly carry baboons and monkeys on board their vessels. We agreed, indeed, that it was now time to begin a hut, in which we could sit more comfortably during the evening, and which would shelter us from the rains, which I knew were likely to occur before long. The rich vegetation which covered the island would not, I knew, exist, unless frequently watered by heavy showers.

We agreed to call our house Bamboo Villa. We first stuck into the ground a number of stout bamboos, and then secured, at about six feet from the ground, to the uprights, horizontally, some bamboos almost of the same thickness. These formed the beams on which we rested our floor. The floor was composed of the mid-ribs of the sago-palm, split in two, and supported beneath by poles. The sides were of the same material. Our work, the framework of which was of bamboo, was thatched with the smaller mid-ribs, and with the leaves of the sago-palm foliage, tied in bundles, side by side. These, however, being very thick, formed a covering which kept out the heat of the sun as well as the rain, a very important consideration in that climate. A ladder of bamboo enabled us to reach the door of our house.

In this abode we hoped better to preserve our provisions, and to be free also from insects or any reptiles which might exist on the island. We had frequently caught sight in the distance of creatures moving about among the thickly-growing trees, but had been unable to tell what they were. We had also seen movements amongst the dense mass of leaves which covered the ground, and had supposed them to be lizards and snakes, or other crawling things.

As soon as our house was finished we manufactured a sago oven, which we baked in the sun. It was, however, of a very fragile nature, and we feared would not answer very well for our cakes—to use it, indeed, we were obliged to increase its size. When all was ready, we prepared some cakes. This we did by drying the sago thoroughly in the sun, then pounding it in a shell into a fine powder. Keeping some of the powder to sprinkle the oven with, we made the rest into cakes. Having got the oven heated, we put in our baking-pan, with a piece of palm-leaf over it, and then closed up the hole with stones and earth. In a short time we again opened the mouth of the oven, when lo, and behold, our pan had burst asunder, and though the cakes were pretty well done, pieces of clay were sticking to them on every side. It took us some time to pick them out before the cakes were at all fit to eat; indeed, an epicure would certainly not have considered them palatable. What would we not have given for a good pot in which to boil our water, and a well-made pan for baking our cakes!

“There is no use wishing for them,” exclaimed Oliver; “we must make the best use of the materials at hand.”

We determined not to be defeated, and our next pan was made of clay, and strengthened with pieces of bamboo in the inside. We began baking it in the sun, and then carried it to our oven, which was only slightly heated. We then added more fuel, and closed it up. On opening it we only let in a little air at a time, and this allowed it to cool slowly. On taking it out, not a crack was perceptible. On examining it, when it was thoroughly cool, we had hopes that it would answer better than its predecessor. The next time we made some cakes we pounded some cocoa-nut with them. We then heated our oven, and put in our pan full of cakes. In about five or six minutes we again opened it, and drawing out the pan, we saw the cakes well cooked, and the pan unbroken.

We had been too busy to go hunting; but we determined, as soon as our house was completed in every respect, to do so systematically. We hoped to have no difficulty in procuring a cuscus occasionally, and as there were evidently many birds on the island, to trap them or kill them in some other way. We talked of forming cross-bows, and we hoped to find some elastic wood for the purpose. Still, we had a longing for vegetables. We found a delicate-looking plant, which had nothing suspicious about it, for I knew the appearance of several of the noxious plants. On digging down we discovered a root to it. Macco said he thought that it was wholesome, and volunteered to try it. We agreed that it would be better for one person to do so, and to take only a little at a time, that, should it have any bad qualities, we might discover them before serious injury was done to any of us. We accordingly boiled some in a shell with some hot stones, and Macco, taking a little, declared it very good. Next day he ate rather more of it, and in a short time took a considerable quantity mixed with some shell-fish, which we had just before procured. Its wholesome nature was now satisfactorily ascertained, and we had thus another article of food on which we could depend.

Among the many beautiful objects in our way were the groups of bamboos. Botanically, the bamboo is looked upon as grass, but, practically, it is a tree, as it sometimes attains the height of seventy or eighty feet. In many of the places we had visited we found the native huts built of it. For this purpose the people split it open, and press it out flat. To strengthen the walls, other perpendicular and horizontal pieces are fixed to it. The masts of small vessels are made of it, as well as spars, and drinking-cups and vessels of all sorts. The more savage tribes still make their weapons of bamboo, as, when slightly burned, a sharp edge like a knife can be given to it; indeed, the pointed end of a bamboo makes a formidable spear, which an unarmed man would not wish to encounter.

I cannot give a full account of our residence on the island. We were never without an ample supply of provisions, both vegetable and animal. A fortnight had passed since we had buried the eggs in the mound, and had almost forgotten all about them, when, as Oliver and I were seated in our hut, we heard Macco shouting out, “Come!—see! see!” We hurried out, and remarked a curious commotion on the top of the mound we had thrown up. Presently, one head popped out from the earth, and then another, and another, and a curious half-fledged bird emerged, and pointing its head inland, began to run away towards the wood. Macco made chase, and brought it back. We, in the meantime, seized the remainder of the little creatures as they emerged from their curious hatching-ground, and carried them off to the hut. They seemed very unwilling to stay there, till we placed some sago flour and other food before them. They instantly began pecking it up, as if they had been long accustomed to feeding. Nothing seemed to satisfy them, and we were surprised at the quantity of food they managed to swallow. I never saw such independent little creatures. It was satisfactory to know that we were not depriving an affectionate hen of her offspring. As we were anxious to preserve them, we made a pen of bamboo sticks closely stuck in the ground, in a circle of about a couple of yards in diameter. It took us some time to do this. As soon as the pen was finished we put the brush-turkeys—for such we supposed they were—inside it, throwing in at the same time a supply of food. The little creatures ran round and round, but finding they could not get out, began to peck away at the food. Supposing that, as they took to the woods, they would require some shelter, we threw in a quantity of leaves, and small branches, and twigs. Under these, when they could eat no more, they went to roost, apparently very well contented with their quarters.

Well satisfied with our success, we searched for some time, but without finding another mound; indeed, the birds which made them did not appear to be very common in the island. However, we could not make much way into the interior on account of the thick jungle, though here and there were a few open glades through which we could pass along with tolerable ease. We had reached one of these glades when we saw directly before us a brown animal jumping along over the ground. “A kangaroo! a kangaroo!” exclaimed Oliver. “It is so like the pictures of one.” We, of course, made chase, but the kangaroo—for a species of that animal it was—soon caught sight of us. Greatly to our surprise, however, when it came to the end of the glade, instead of forcing its way through the thicket, or turning round to stand at bay, it began to climb up the nearest tree. It did not climb very fast, however, and had we been somewhat nearer we might have struck it with our spears. By the time we got up it had climbed above our reach. I then remembered reading of a tree kangaroo which is supplied with powerful claws on the fore-feet. Once up in the tree, it did not appear to be much frightened at us, and we had time more particularly to observe it. It had a hairy tail, much finer than the ordinary kangaroo, and we observed as it went over the ground that it had not used it as a support, as the Australian kangaroo does.

Macco proposed climbing the tree to attack it, but we thought it would be dangerous for him to make the attempt, as the creature might seize him in its claws, and tear his skin. He laughed at the notion, and remarked, “If he do dat, he tumble down. No, no; you let me alone. You go away, I kill kangaroo!”

Saying this, he made a circuit through the thick forest, so as to get the tree between himself and the branch on which the kangaroo was sitting. We, meantime, retired down the glade. As soon as the animal saw that we were at a distance, he began tearing away the leaves from a branch and eating them voraciously. Macco, hanging the spear about his neck, climbed up a neighbouring tree, which was united to the one on which the kangaroo was sitting by a strong band of ratan. Along this, finding it secure, he cautiously climbed, till he gained a branch directly above the kangaroo. We watched him anxiously, afraid to move lest we should disturb the animal. He seemed to be considering whether his spear was long enough to reach it. Then we saw him cautiously stoop down over the branch. The moment the kangaroo stopped eating, he drew back and remained still as death. When the animal again commenced tearing off the twigs, he cautiously approached. At length he seemed satisfied that he was in a good position, and raising his spear, he darted it down directly on the animal’s neck. It must have pierced the spine, for the creature instantly dropped off the branch and lay without moving on the ground. We ran up as fast as our legs could carry us, but Macco was on the spot before us, and examining the creature. He seemed satisfied that it was perfectly dead. It had a graceful, mild-looking head, and, except in the points I have mentioned, was in all respects like an ordinary kangaroo, though not so large as the animals I had read of in Australia. It was indeed a prize to us, for we had not killed a cuscus for some time, and had been living on shell-fish, sago, and cocoa-nuts, with now and then a few turtle’s eggs. Fastening the legs of our prize round a piece of the universally useful bamboo, we bore it off in triumph to our mansion, and very soon had some delicious steaks cooking before our fire.

Chapter Fourteen.

Carried off by savages.

I do not know whether a more than usually substantial supper made us sleep sounder than we were wont to do, but the sun had already risen when, the next morning, I started up, hearing as I fancied some strange noises near us. My two companions were still asleep on their bamboo couches on either side of the hut. The noises seemed to me like human voices. Oliver and Macco must have heard them also, for directly afterwards they also started up, and looked about them with a somewhat startled expression of countenance.

We sprang to the door of the hut. On opening it, we saw directly below it a number of dark-skinned savages, almost destitute of clothing, some of them having huge black mop heads, while others had simply thick woolly hair. From this I knew them at once, as well as from their strongly-marked, ferocious features, to be Papuans, or inhabitants of New Guinea. They seemed as much surprised at seeing us as we were at seeing them, and shouted out to us in a language we of course could not understand. By their signs, however, we knew that they were telling us to come down to them. This, from their unprepossessing appearance, we were not well-disposed to do. Probably they supposed we possessed fire-arms, and were therefore unwilling to approach nearer. They had just landed, we knew, from seeing two long, low canoes with high stems and sterns rudely carved and surmounted by plumes of feathers. A row of mother-of-pearl shells apparently ornamented each side of the gunwale. The men were armed with bows and arrows and huge clubs. Some of them also had spears in their hands, but we saw no guns among them. This was satisfactory. However, from their numbers we knew too well that they could easily overpower us, if they had evil intentions.

Again they shouted to us, and we shouted in return, putting out our hands, and making other signs to show that we desired to be friends. They only answered by still louder shouts, some of them apparently laughing at our appearance. They now began to approach, one party coming up on one side, one on another, and a third in the centre. We still held our post, hoping that they might not come to extremities. We thought, too, that perhaps, seeing three people at the door, they might suppose others were within, and not be aware of how far superior they were in force to us. As they advanced they discovered our brush-turkey pen, and, greatly to our distress, some of them instantly stooped over, and began to seize the birds, and to fasten them by their legs round their waists. Others rushed at the body of the kangaroo, which hung by the legs to the branch of a tree, and immediately began cutting it up, each man appropriating a portion.

“I hope they will be content with robbing us, and go away,” said Oliver.

“I am afraid not,” I answered. “They will soon find how few we are to oppose them, and will not be content until they carry off everything we possess, even if they do not kill us. They mean mischief, depend on that.”

The savages having searched about, and finding nothing else on which to lay their hands, approached still nearer our hut.

“If they attack us we will sell our lives dearly,” I said to Oliver.

“I am afraid we must do so,” he answered. “I wish to fight for your sake, though for myself I scarcely think I should do so.”

Thinking that possibly, after all, they might go away without further molesting us, we lifted up our ladder and shut the door. Scarcely had we done so, than we felt the house violently shaken, and on looking out once more I found that a number of men had got hold of the posts on which it rested, and seemed attempting to shake it down. They shook, and shook, and shook; but it was so strongly secured in the ground, that their united strength could not pull it down. All the time they were shouting and crying to each other, every now and then giving way to hoarse laughter, which occasionally broke into shrieks of merriment. “Bery good fun for dem, but bad for us,” observed Macco, as the violent shocks made us expect every instant to be hurled to the ground. At length they stopped, and there was an ominous silence. We felt as people do during the lull of a hurricane, when they know it will come back with tenfold force. Presently we heard the savages crying out louder than ever, and directly afterwards thin wreaths of smoke began to ascend through the flooring. They were about, we dreaded, to burn us out. Soon the crackling flames ascended. We had no help for it; so, throwing open the door, we sprang to the ground. We were each of us instantly surrounded by a number of savages. One black fellow, with a huge head of frizzled-out hair, and a dark heavy club in his hand, seized hold of me, and I thought he was about to dash my brains out with his weapon. Others, in like manner caught my companions. I thought my last moment had come, and expected every instant to see my friends struck to the ground. No sooner had we jumped down than they began to rake out the fire and to pull down the burning portions, though they were only just in time to save the hut from destruction. Immediately a number of them rushed up, and began to bring out our stores of sago and dried mollusc, our cocoa-nuts, and other articles of food. They seemed well pleased with their prize. These they quickly divided among themselves.

The big man with a mop head now gave certain orders to several of his companions, who hurried off into the wood. They soon returned with some fine pieces of ratan, with which they immediately bound our arms behind us, and our legs so close together, that we could with difficulty walk. This being done, they all sat down and began to consume our provisions, a large portion of which they quickly devoured. On seeing water in one of our shells, they made signs to Macco to ask where we got it from, and ordered him to lead a party to the spot. Going to their canoes, they returned with a number of long jars and small casks, made of the thick ends of large bamboos. The savages had apparently touched at our island for the sake of getting food or water. Having supplied themselves with this necessary article, they unceremoniously dragged us on board their canoes. Oliver and I were taken to one, and poor Macco to the other. He looked very disconsolate when he saw that he was to be separated from us. I confess I felt very uncomfortable at the thoughts of being in their power, for I had heard that they were not only fierce and treacherous, but addicted to cannibalism, if they were not regular cannibals. Still Oliver and I agreed that we would endeavour to show no signs of fear. They seemed very well satisfied with the provisions with which our stores had supplied them. Before shoving off, however, a party of them again landed, and went to the cocoa-nut grove, of the produce of which they brought back a quantity. They now, getting out their paddles, began to glide away from the island where we had spent so many weeks. Looking back at it, we admired the numberless beauties it possessed—beauties which no change of season in that latitude could possibly mar. There was one enemy, however, which might quickly scatter destruction around. It was likely to proceed from the conical mountain in the centre of the island. Already there appeared to be a white smoke ascending from the summit.

“Perhaps, after all,” said Oliver, “we are taken away in time to be saved from destruction. See, our captors are watching the top of the mountain; they too seem to think that something is likely to happen. Let us be thankful, then, that we have been removed in time; for had the mountain burst forth while we were on the island, we could not possibly have escaped, if the lava or ashes had come down on our side of it.”

While he was speaking I was looking towards the mountain. Instead of the volumes of smoke which had hitherto been issuing forth, there spouted out a bright sheet of flame, which, expanding as it rose towards the sky, spread around like a vast fan, arching over and forming a canopy of fire above the island. Thus for an instant it hung suspended, threatening destruction to the smiling landscape below it. At the same moment sounds like the loudest peals of rolling thunder rent the air, almost deafening us with their roar. Even our captors, not unaccustomed to such a spectacle, stood aghast, clutching each other’s arms, and gazing with horror-stricken countenances at the mountain. “See, see!” cried Oliver; “how mercifully we have been preserved!”

Indeed we had; for down the mountain’s side, half covering it, flowed a river of burning liquid, setting fire to the trees and shrubs, the conflagration spreading far and wide, fanned by the breeze among the easily ignited timber, while from the sky above there rained down dense showers of glowing stones and hot cinders, till the late green island became enveloped in flame, amid which the tall palms waved to and fro, as if struggling to escape from impending destruction. At the same time, a shower of fine ashes began to fall on our heads. Thicker and thicker they came, obscuring the atmosphere, till we could merely distinguish the pyramid of fire with its fanlike summit, and the wide circle of leaping flames which raged around it. In a short time the canoe was thickly covered with ashes, which penetrated also through our clothes, and filled our ears and nostrils, making even breathing painful. The savages at length aroused themselves, and seizing their paddles, began with desperate strokes to urge their canoe away from the ill-fated island.

“O Walter, let us return thanks to our merciful Father in Heaven, that what we thought so great a misfortune has been the means of our preservation,” said Oliver; “and never let us mistrust the kind providence with which he watches over us.”

We knelt down in the bottom of the canoe, and I joined Oliver in the prayer he offered up, the savages looking at us with surprise, unable probably to comprehend in the remotest degree what we were about.

I should say that some time had been spent after the events I have briefly described had taken place. We had got to a distance from the burning island, and were once more in safety. Having become very hungry, we made signs to our captors that we should like to have some food. With a careless air they handed us some lumps of our own sago, and some pieces of cocoa-nut. We were compelled to take it, uncooked as it was; for though we showed by signs that we should like to have some bread made of it, they laughed at our request, and seemed to tell us that it was good enough for such white-skinned slaves as we were.

These New Guinea men had apparently been on a voyage to the northward, and were returning to their native land, which lay, we judged, somewhere to the south. We ate our hard sago-cake, which we could scarcely have got down without the aid of the cocoa-nut. We again made signs that we should like an entire cocoa-nut, that we might drink the juice. They pointed in return to the water alongside, and mockingly, by signs, intimated that we might drink that. In vain we entreated that they would give us some fresh water or a cocoa-nut. Our distress seemed to amuse them amazingly; for both, the chief and his men indulged in most uproarious shouts of laughter, rolling about as if they were thoroughly tipsy. At length, however, when they had amused themselves sufficiently at our expense, one of them threw a cocoa-nut, which hit Oliver on the head. He could not help exhibiting some signs of suffering, which made them again burst into fits of laughter; indeed, they appeared to be the merriest fellows, though savage in their merriment, that I had ever met with. The juice, however, which we got from the cocoa-nut, Oliver declared, made ample amends for the treatment we had received.

“I do not think they can intend to kill and eat us,” he observed, “or they would feed us better than they are doing. We must see how we can best win their good graces. If we could but do something to prove that we would be useful to them, we might obtain better treatment.”

“Very true,” I answered; “I will do my best to help you, if you can think of anything.”

We could distinguish Macco sitting near the stern of the other canoe by the different shape of his head, as well as by the seaman’s woollen shirt he wore. He seemed to be sitting quietly, as if listening to the conversation of those around him. However, it was not likely that he could comprehend anything of their language. Hour after hour the savages paddled on, till at length we approached some rocky islets, towards which they steered. Here they landed, and lighting a fire, rudely cooked the remainder of our kangaroo. Not till we petitioned very hard did they condescend to give us any portion of it. At length, however, they made signs that we might cut off what flesh we required, and we eagerly took advantage of the permission they granted. At the same time, finding a bamboo cask of water at hand, we soon drained its contents, and afterwards felt very much refreshed. The meal over, they again took to their canoes, and continued their voyage. How they could manage to cook their food on a long voyage, I could not discover. Oliver suggested that they perhaps lived on those occasions on cold provisions; indeed, their sago-cakes would provide them with sufficient food, if they ever did make long voyages, which, however, I suspected they did not.

At length, however, we got close in with the coast, which we took to be that of New Guinea. On either side, as far as the eye could reach, it was covered with tall forest trees and dense brushwood. They were considerably taller than those on our island—some of the most lofty being draped with festoons of the creeping ratans, which gave them a peculiarly graceful appearance. The sands, unlike many of those of the volcanic islands we had passed, were white and glittering, and the water of the most transparent nature, so that, looking over the side, we could see far down into the depths of the ocean. In the distant interior rose up ranges of lofty mountains, appearing one beyond another, and extending, till lost to view by distance, both to the north and south. Altogether the country appeared magnificent in the extreme. Under other circumstances I should have been delighted to visit it; but the idea of having to live among such fierce-looking savages was terrible, especially when we could not help thinking that if they did not kill and eat us, they would at all events make us labour as slaves.

Our captors, instead of landing, continued to proceed towards the south. As night approached, they ran into a little sandy bay, where, hauling up their canoes, which, notwithstanding their large size, were very light, they all assembled on shore. We were now on that mysterious coast of New Guinea. Macco was allowed to come near us. I asked him whether he thought we could manage to run away while our captors were asleep.

“Dey run faster dan we,” he answered, “and if dey catchy dey kill, and if dey kill dey eat. No, no, Massa Walter; we stay and try and make friends. I tell dem big ship come soon and bring cloth, and knives, and hatchets, and all sorts of good t’ings for dem, if dey no hurt us.”

How Macco had contrived to explain this I could not understand, but he seemed very confident that they had comprehended him. Some of the party, armed with bows and arrows, started away into the woods, while the others collected sticks and lighted a fire. The hunters soon returned, bringing with them a tree kangaroo and a cuscus, with several large bats. The latter creatures I had seen before, and heard them called flying-foxes. They were very ugly, and one of them; which I took up had a rank, powerful, foxy odour. One of the natives who saw me thought I was going to eat it raw, I suppose, for he shouted out, and I quickly dropped it. They immediately set to work to skin these creatures, and cutting them up, roasted them on sticks before the fire. Some rough sago, which they baked on the embers, was also produced.

We sat apart from them, and they commenced their feast without intending apparently to give us any. Macco, however, after waiting a few minutes, observed, “Dis no do;” and getting up, approached the savage-looking group. Pointing to his mouth, he quietly stooped down, and was carrying off one of the bats.

“No, no,” I shouted; “bring us a piece of kangaroo or the other animal.”

The savages looked somewhat astonished at his audacity, but yet no one prevented him. Throwing down the half-roasted bat, he placed several pieces of the other meat on leaves, which served them as plates, and came back to us with them in triumph. He then returned for some sago. With this food we made a tolerably hearty meal, and certainly felt our spirits a little the better for it. The savages then, again going into the thicket, brought out a number of bamboos, with some tall ferns, with which they constructed some rude huts, sufficient to hold all the party. We, imitating their example, did the same, and commending ourselves to Him who had hitherto so mercifully watched over us, lay down to sleep.

By dawn the next morning the savages were on foot, and having consumed the remains of their supper, began to shove off their boats. Macco managed to get hold of a little more sago and meat, with which we made a scanty breakfast. We were in hopes that they were going to leave us behind, but they had no such intentions; and as soon as the boats were in the water, their mop-headed chief made signs to us to go on board—an order we obeyed with as good a grace as we could command. The canoes paddled on the whole of the next day, the coast scenery being very similar to what we had previously passed. Towards evening we entered a large bay completely sheltered from the sea. On one side of it, towards which they directed their course, we came in sight of what appeared to be a village built out on the water.

Their dwellings, if such they were, were curious, dilapidated edifices. They stood on platforms supported by posts, placed apparently without any attempt at regularity. Many of the posts were twisted and crooked, and looked as if they were tumbling down. The houses were very low, the roofs being in the shape of boats turned bottom upwards. They were connected with the land by long rude bridges, which seemed as if they could scarcely support the weight of a person going over them. As we drew nearer, we saw that the fronts of these dwellings were ornamented with rude carving, sometimes of the human figure, such as the grossest savages alone could wish to exhibit. Under the roofs of the houses were hung as decorations rows of human skulls; trophies, we concluded, of their combats with neighbouring tribes.

The canoes were received with loud shouts from the inhabitants of the village, who came out on the platforms to welcome them, lowering down some roughly made ladders to enable them to ascend. Alongside the platforms were a number of canoes of various sizes, some capable only of containing one person, with outriggers to prevent them going over. Our captors made a sign to us to follow them, and we now had to stand in a row and be inspected by their friends. We were arranged on the platform, for the houses were far too low to allow of our standing upright in them.

Fierce as the savages looked, they were most of them remarkably fine men, tall and athletic. The women, however, except a few who appeared to be very young, were most unattractive. Their features were strongly-marked, and their dress coarse and disgusting. It consisted of stripes of palm-leaves, worn tightly round the body, and reaching to the knees, and dirty in the extreme. Their hair, frizzled-out, was tied in a huge bunch at the back of the head. We saw them, while they were talking and looking at us, forking it out with large wooden forks, having four or five prongs: indeed, an ordinary comb would have been of little service in such a mass of cranial vegetation. The women wore ear-rings and necklaces arranged in a variety of ways. Some of them had two necklaces, made of white beads or kangaroo teeth, which looked well on their dark glossy skins. The ear-rings were composed of thick silver or copper wire, in hoops, the ends crossing each other. Some of them had the ends of their necklaces attached to their ear-rings, and then looped up to the chignon behind, which had a very elegant appearance, if anything could look elegant on such unprepossessing dames.

The men had a far greater number of ornaments than the women, most of them composed of the teeth of small animals. They had finger-rings as well as necklaces and ear-rings, and also bracelets. Some, too, wore bands round the arm, just beneath the shoulder, with bunches of bright-coloured feathers or hair attached to them. Others, also, wore anklets and bands, made of shell or brass-wire, below the knee. All the chiefs, and those who wished to be exquisites, carried a huge forked comb, which they continually employed in passing through their hair, much as I have seen people with large whiskers keep pulling at them when they had nothing better to do.

We only hoped that our captors had formed a better opinion of us than we had of them. They appeared undecided what to do with us. At last, however, the chief, whom we called Frizzlepate, made us a sign to enter one of the houses, and pointed to a little box-like room, into which we could just manage to creep. The partition walls of the house were formed of a sort of thatch, and the only articles of furniture we saw within were rude wooden plates and basins, with one or two metal cooking-vessels apparently, and a number of baskets and mats. Their weapons were spears, bows, and clubs. The mats were evidently used for sleeping on. They were made of the broad leaves of the pandanus, sewn together, with their usual neatness, in three layers. One end is sewn-up, so that when used for sleeping it forms a kind of sack, serving at the same time for mattress and coverlid. We saw them also used in rainy weather, worn over the head, the sewn-up end being uppermost, serving thus the purpose of umbrella and greatcoat. Most of the men wore in their belts a chopping-knife and axe. Some of them had besides smaller knives, and a skin pouch, with a bamboo case, containing betel-root, tobacco, and lime. The mats, however, were certainly the most useful articles in their possession. They could be folded up in a very small space for travelling, both as a protection from rain and as bedding at night: indeed, they were equal in most respects to the Mackintosh rugs used by our officers in campaigning.

We were expecting to go supperless to our cramped-up bed, when a woman, with a more pleasing expression of countenance than most of those we had seen, came to our room with a basket containing some plantains and yams, with a few cooked fish. She signed to us to take the contents and give her back the basket, with which she immediately disappeared. Anxiety for the future would have kept us awake, had not our ears been assailed by the loud chattering and laughter of the natives in the hut in which we were located, as well as in those around us. Even in that small hut there must have been a dozen or twenty people, which was not surprising, if they were contented with the small space they had awarded us.

Chapter Fifteen.

Our adventures in New Guinea.

Next morning, at an early hour, the whole community was on foot. The men came out, and sat themselves down on their platforms, where they began to smoke very curious pipes, made of a single piece of wood, with an upright stalk under the bowl, which either rested on the ground or on their knees. The tube was at right angles with this, and the bowl shaped like a cup on the top of the stalk, a knot of wood at the outer end of the tube serving to balance it. The women were seen going along the beach to the shore, or descending into the small canoes, we concluded either to fish, or to collect limpets or other molluscs from the rocks for food. Not knowing exactly what to do, we got up and were about to follow them, when a shout from Prince Frizzlepate, as we now called him (for he seemed to be the chief of this delectable community), reached our ears. He made signs to us that we were to take two of the canoes and go into the bay to fish, as the women were doing.

“Dat bery good,” observed Macco. “Me know how to catch more fish dan dem.”

We found a number of lines, with hooks made of the bones of birds, hung up in the house. When we offered to take them, Prince Frizzlepate nodded his permission. Macco also borrowed one of their knives, with which to cut some shell-fish from the rocks to serve as bait. We had fortunately not consumed all our sago or fish; and these, hidden in our pockets, we took with us, for our masters apparently had no intention of providing us with food. We quickly got the bait, and, guided by Macco—he being in one of the canoes, and Oliver and I in the other—we paddled off to a point near where the women were fishing. Soon after we let down our lines, Macco hauled up a fine fish. He caught double as many as Oliver and I together.

We naturally talked of the possibility of making our escape in the canoe; but where to go to was the difficulty. We saw also that we were observed from the huts, a large canoe being apparently kept ready to make chase should we attempt to paddle off. After a little time, we ate the provisions we had brought with us, turning our backs towards the shore as we did so, for fear our masters might observe it. We were already beginning to practise some of the arts of slaves. Having caught a good supply of fish, we paddled back towards the shore.

“I vote we land on the beach, instead of going back to those dirty huts,” I observed. And Oliver agreed with me. Macco, however, seemed rather doubtful that we should bring down on our heads the displeasure of our masters. The women had landed some time before. Either the men were sleeping, or they did not think it worth while to call us, and, reaching the beach, we landed and hauled up our canoes.

Oliver proposed that we should light a fire and cook some of our fish. A flame was soon produced by Macco, in his usual way, with two pieces of bamboo; and we soon had our fish cooking before it. Having finished our meal, we walked a little way into the country. We had not gone far when we observed a small hut, raised from the ground, somewhat like those on the beach. Near it, leaning on a bank, we saw a woman who appeared very like the kind person who had brought us our provisions on the previous evening. She was stooping forward, with a small branch in her hand. On getting nearer, we saw that she was playing with a little child, who was seated in a large bivalve shell full of water. It made a magnificent bath for the little black fellow, and it was larger even than the shells we had found on our island, a magnificent, specimen of the Tridacna gigas. The woman was younger and far pleasanter-looking than most of the women in the huts.

“Yes, I am sure it is her,” said Oliver, when we approached. She seemed somewhat startled at seeing us, and instinctively lifted her little boy out of the bath, and held him, dripping as he was, in her arms. That did not signify, however, as she was clothed in very scanty garments. We stopped short, not further to alarm her; and then, recovering herself, she signed to us that we might come nearer. She pointed to the huts on the beach, and seemed to intimate that we had better go back, lest the chief should be angry at our wandering about the shore without his leave. She then patted us on our heads, which we took to signify that she wished us well. Of this, indeed, from her previous kind conduct, we had no doubt.

“We will give her some of our fish,” I said. “It will show her that we are grateful to her for her kindness.”

Macco, hearing my proposal, ran back to the boat, and returning with several fine fish, placed them at her feet. Having done this, we hurried back to the canoe, and paddled away to the huts. On climbing up the ladders, we found that the men had been sleeping, which had been the reason, probably, we had been allowed so much liberty. As we were bringing the fish up to the platform, the chief awoke, and seemed well pleased with our success, for he nodded his head, and graciously gave each of us a fish.

For two or three days we were sent out in the same manner, and each time Macco was successful. We, however, discussed all sorts of plans for making our escape; for although we were not especially ill-treated, we yet could not tell how soon the mood of our savage masters might change.

I was very anxious to see something of the interior. An opportunity arrived sooner than I had expected. Early one morning, the chief awoke us, and signified that he wanted us to attend him on shore. It appeared, that having found us so useful as fishermen, he expected that we should be equally successful as hunters. Having put bows and arrows into our hands, he signified that we should attend him. About a dozen men were collected together, armed also with bows and arrows and spears. On the ground were several baskets, and just as we were beginning to march, some of the men lifted them up, and, without asking our leave, strapped them on over our shoulders—an unmistakable hint that they expected us to carry them. I, feeling indignant at this proceeding, let the basket drop; on which the chief, casting an angry glance at me, gave me a blow across the shoulder with his spear, which made me feel so faint that I nearly fell to the ground. My companions wisely took the hint, and, just as they were about to follow my example, re-secured the baskets. I saw that there was no help for it; so, again lifting up mine, I followed the party as fast as I could.

“You see, Massa Walter,” observed Macco, “dem can make us do what dey like, so no use cry out. ‘Grin and bear it,’ as Potto Jumbo say to me bery often.”

As we passed through the forest we caught sight of numerous beautiful birds flying among the trees, and countless numbers of lovely butterflies flitting to and fro, and beetles crawling over the grass or climbing the trunks of the trees. “What would not Mr Hooker give to be here!” I could not help exclaiming.

I was going to put my foot on what I thought a large leaf, when I saw it suddenly rise and spring forward. A little way on I saw another creature—for a creature it was—of the same description; and, looking at it more narrowly, I saw that it was an enormous grasshopper. The wing covers, which were fully nine inches across, were of a fine green colour, looking exactly like one of the large shining leaves which hung from the trees above. The thorax was covered by a large triangular sheath of a horny nature. Its serrated edges, and a somewhat wavy hollow surface, with a line down the centre, made it also look very like a leaf. At a guess, for I could not measure it, I should say that it was between two and three inches long. The body was short, but the legs were very long and strongly spined. It did not move very fast, so that I could examine it easily. Though only at a very short distance, I could not have distinguished it from the number of fallen leaves among which it moved. Overhead were numbers of cockatoos, parrots, and other birds of gay plumage, while now and then we caught sight of a brush-turkey running along rapidly over the ground. Many of the butterflies we saw were of magnificent size, and all richly adorned with the most brilliant colours.

At length the savages stopped under some high trees with wide-spreading branches, though thinly clothed with leaves. Several of them then ascended, carrying with them bows, and a number of arrows with round weighted heads, while each man also carried a large piece of roughly-formed matting at his side. Ascending the trees, they stretched out the matting across the branches, just above a convenient fork on which they took their seats. In a short time, as the sun was tingeing the lofty tops of the trees, we heard the well-known sound of “Wawk—wawk—wawk!—Wok—wok—wok!” Soon afterwards we caught sight of a flight of the most magnificent birds of paradise assembled on the branches, and immediately they began the curious dance we had before seen, spreading out their brilliant feathers, which glittered like masses of gold thread in the sunlight above our heads. The hunters meantime lay hid under their palm-leaf shelter. Presently, one let fly an arrow, which stunned a bird, and it fell to the ground. Another and another arrow was shot, few failing to bring down a bird. The lovely creatures, unconscious of the fate of their companions, continued their dance, seeming too much interested in themselves to think of the rest. At length an arrow whizzed by one of the birds, which it failed to strike. This seemed to astonish the rest; and, looking about, it discovered one of the hunters. Immediately, with loud cries, the whole rose from the tree, and flew away with rapid wings from the spot. The savages then got down the tree to secure their prizes.

Satisfied with their success, they now took out some food, which they commenced eating. Macco, as before, in spite of their angry looks, carried off a small portion for us and himself. As soon as their meal was hastily concluded, they began cutting off the wings and feet of the birds. When the skin was taken off the body, a stout stick was run through it, coming out at the mouth. Round this a number of leaves, were stuffed, and the skin was then wrapped up in a palm-spathe. I saw at once how it was that the legend of their having no wings or feet had arisen. The beautiful flowing plumage appeared to great advantage, but the body, by this process, was greatly reduced and shortened, and gave a very erroneous idea of the real shape of the bird. While speaking of the birds of paradise, I should like to describe the great variety which exists. Those I have described are very different from the ordinary bird of paradise, with which ladies were accustomed to ornament their hats and bonnets. That is a very beautiful little bird, but not to be compared to the Great Paradise bird, or the Red Paradise bird, or the King Paradise bird, or, indeed, to several others which I saw brought from various parts of New Guinea, or from the neighbouring islands. One of the most curious and beautiful is the Red Paradise bird, which is said to be only found in the island of Waigiou. In the same island, another bird, called the Red Magnificent, is found.

The birds having been prepared for travelling, the savages now roused themselves, and signified to us that we must continue hunting. We kept close to Macco, knowing that he was more likely to be successful than we were. We urged him to try and get away from them, that we might be by ourselves.

“But we get lost; we no find our way back,” he answered.

“But I thought you were accustomed to your native forests, and that you could easily find your way,” I observed.

“Dis forest not like my forest,” he answered. “I dere know de signs. Here bery different. I live here one year, two year, and den I find my way about.”

“I thought you could find your way by instinct,” I said, “through the forest.”

“Macco not know what ’stinct mean,” he answered. “Me know de signs on de trees, de way de rivers run or de streams run, where de mountains are, where de sun rise, where de sun set. Den know de way.”

However we managed, while our masters started off in one direction, to take an opposite one; and before long, as we moved cautiously through the wood, we caught sight of a cuscus. Macco was quickly up a tree, and soon captured the poor beast. Not long after we came up with a tree kangaroo, to which we gave chase. We caught him as we had done the other on our island, and had now two animals to take to our masters. We hung them by their feet over a bamboo, and carried them along in the direction we believed would lead to the coast. We had gone some distance when we began to doubt whether we were going right. The forest was far too thick to allow us to get a glimpse of the sea, by which we might have guided our steps. At length, fatigued with carrying our heavy burden, we stopped to rest. On a piece of fallen timber on which we sat, I observed some curious flies with slender bodies, and wonderfully long legs, which raised their bodies high above the surface on which they stood; but the remarkable thing about them was the large horns which projected from below their eyes, very nearly as long as the animals themselves, something in shape like the horns of a stag. Their eyes were violet and green, and the bodies and legs yellowish brown, and their horns black. We had been silent for some time, each of us occupied in his own thoughts, when, looking up, we saw a long snouted animal approaching slowly and rubbing his nose into the soft ground as he advanced. “Pig, pig,” cried Macco, starting up and giving chase, spear in hand. The pig, however, was far too quick for him, more active considerably than the cuscus or the tree kangaroo, and though Macco ran fast, piggy, who knew the country, ran faster; and in a short time Macco returned, somewhat crestfallen at his want of success. “If we kill three animals dey tink we great hunters,” he exclaimed. “We look for another piggy, and try cachy.”

We now thought it time to continue our journey. We had not got far, however, when we heard shouts behind us, and turning round, we saw a number of black fellows, their countenances expressive of rage, pursuing us with clubs uplifted. To fly through that jungle would have been folly, so we stopped and faced the savages. I fully believed from their gestures that our last moments had arrived. They were within a dozen yards of us, and in another moment our brains would have been dashed out on the ground, when a cry was heard coming from one side, and in an instant afterwards a young woman burst through the thicket, and threw herself between us and our enemies. We recognised her as the kind person we had seen bathing her baby in the large shell. She held up a branch between us and the men, and appeared to be expostulating earnestly with them. She used much gesture and spoke with vehemence. Gradually their countenances somewhat calmed, and their clubs, which had been raised, slowly descended to the ground. As they stood leaning on them she pointed to the animals we had killed. Macco had been watching both parties attentively.

“Dey tink we run away. She say no,” he observed. “We take dem and give dem to her.”

On this we lifted up the kangaroo and cuscus, which we had placed behind the trunk of a tree, and exhibited them to the savages, laying them afterwards at the feet of the young female; I cannot say our fair friend, for she was almost as dark as a sloe berry. We then lifted them up again, and inquired of her by signs what we were to do with them. She told us in the same dumb language that we were to accompany her, and pointing to the path up which we had come, she bade us go before, walking herself between us and the men, as if to protect us from them. We went on and on, and now found from the time we took to reach her hut, that we must have been going inland instead of towards the village on the sea-shore. This naturally made the savages suppose we were attempting to run away.

On arriving at the hut she again addressed the men, who thereon began to cut up the animals.

They carried away the whole of the cuscus and part of the kangaroo. The other part we supposed she had claimed as her perquisite. She then made signs to us that we were to remain. Who she was we could not tell, but we concluded that she was a chief’s daughter, or, at all events, a person of great influence and probably of rank among them. As soon as the men had gone, she lighted a fire and cooked the remaining part of the kangaroo, placing a savoury piece before us on some palm-leaves, to which she added some well-made cakes of sago, far superior in flavour to those we had manufactured.

She now signified to us that we were to build a hut for ourselves in which to pass the night, and took us to a spot where we found an abundance of bamboos, and the large palm leave? I have before described. She seemed much amused at our awkwardness in putting up the building, and quickly set to work to show us the way, so that in a short time we had a comfortable little hut for a sleeping place.

“I wish we knew her name!” observed Oliver. “I have often read of acts like these, and of the way in which women have saved the lives of people as, I am sure, she has done ours. They are the same all the world over. We have now a proof of it.”

We were in hopes that after this we should be employed entirely by the kind lady, for lady she was in her look and manner, though she had but few garments and no ornaments.

The next day, however, Prince Frizzlepate made his appearance, and ordered us to go off fishing. She nodded to us as much as to tell us that we had better do so, and accordingly we entered the canoes which we had used before. We had even more than our usual success, and returned with a number of fine fish. On landing we took up the finest to our friend.

“I have thought of a name for her,” I exclaimed, as we walked along. “I remember reading of a Princess Serena of some island in the Pacific, and I doubt if she could have been more amiable than this lady; so I propose we call her Princess Serena.”

Oliver agreed with me. Macco only grinned. Probably he saw nothing like a princess about her—only a kind-hearted girl, who had taken compassion on three unfortunate strangers.

We presented our fish in due form to the princess, and she graciously received them, being indeed highly pleased with the present. With the remainder we returned to our masters. They received the fish as a matter of course, not deigning in any way to thank us. Without asking their leave we slipped back into our canoes, and paddled away towards the hut of the princess. The men called after us, but we pretended not to hear them, and were soon afterwards seated round a fire roasting several fish we had lately caught.

For several days we were employed in the same manner. At length, however, the fish would not bite, or they had left the bay—at all events, we caught but few. Each time we returned we were received with scowling looks by our masters; and it was very evident that though their disposition towards us had been far from amiable when we first encountered them, it was now considerably worse.

Chapter Sixteen.

Our perilous escape.

We had returned one evening from an unsuccessful fishing. When we reached the hut we found the Princess Serena in an evident state of agitation. Looking cautiously around, she made signs to us that some one was about to kill us, lifting up her hands as if they were holding a club for the purpose of breaking our heads. There was no mistaking the signs. We inquired of her what we were to do. She stopped to consider, first pointing to the canoes. Then she seemed to advise a different plan. Hurrying into her house, she brought us out some bows, and a considerable supply of arrows. She then went in, and returned with three baskets, which she showed us were full of sago, as also some dried fish. She then made signs to us to eat as much as we could, putting some kangaroo meat and sago-cakes before us.

We followed her advice. As soon as we had finished, going into her hut, she returned with her child in her arms, wrapped up in a piece of matting, which was secured round her waist, assisting to support the little creature. She then beckoned to us to follow her. We did so in Indian file, proceeding along the coast towards the south. As soon as we had got well out of sight of the village, she led us along the beach close to the water, where the tide would obliterate our footmarks. The moon soon rose, and gave us ample light to see our way. It was a lovely night. The water rippled brightly on the sand, while the moonbeams played softly over the calm ocean. On the other side rose up the dark forests with their curious tracery of creepers. Here and there our feet struck against shells of rare beauty, such as would delight a collector in England. Just then, however, we thought of little but making our way as rapidly as we could from our captors. I asked Macco if he could make out where the princess was leading us.

“Not know,” he answered. “S’pose to friends.”

“I suspect,” observed Oliver, “that, from her appearance, she belongs to some other tribe, and has been married to the chief of the people who captured us, and that she is going to take us to her own relations.”

This seemed the most probable explanation of her conduct.

“She can scarcely wish to lead us away, and then leave us to our own devices,” said I. “Perhaps she thinks we are such good hunters that we should be able to support ourselves.”

We travelled on the whole night as rapidly as we could move, close to the edge of the water, which, rising, soon covered the impress of our feet. Just before the sun rose, a thick mist came over the land, completely hiding all objects, except those in our immediate neighbourhood. Still the princess led on. Daylight at length stole over the world; but the mist yet hung down upon us as much as ever. Our conductress at length stopped. She was evidently somewhat weary, and although Macco offered to carry her child, she would not allow it out of her arms. She now made signs that we had better rest, putting her head upon her hands as if to go to sleep. We were too glad to follow her advice, for having been on foot the whole of the previous day, we were completely worn out, and could not have gone many miles further. In spite of the exercise we had taken, the damp air made us feel very cold. She observed that we shivered, and instantly leading the way into the woods, took us to a place where we could cut a quantity of long leaves—a sort of fern, apparently, of gigantic size. With these, she intimated, we could cover ourselves up while we slept, pointing to a sheltered place under a bank which had been worn away into a sort of cavern.

I suppose we had slept some time, though we felt very unwilling to get up when the princess roused us, and made us understand that we should take some food, and then proceed on our journey. We, of course, obeyed her implicitly, and we proceeded on as we had done during the night. Several times, when we came to an elevation of any sort, she looked back, examining the line of coast along which we had come, as if to ascertain whether we were pursued. Then, again, she came down with a look of satisfaction on her countenance, and proceeded on as before. It was towards the afternoon when she again stopped, the ground before us rising, and jutting out into the sea, forming a lofty headland. She now led the way inland, and showed us another hollow, signifying by her gestures that she wished us to occupy it. As we, however, felt anxious to explore the country, we continued wandering about. This seemed to cause her much annoyance. First she caught hold of Oliver and led him back, and then me, and then ran after Macco. At length, observing that we did not seem disposed to keep quiet, she came and took me by the hand, and led me cautiously up towards the top of the height, looking round on either side, and keeping as much as possible under cover. On reaching the summit, she pointed down below, where I saw, in a sheltered bay, another collection of huts somewhat similar to the one we had left. This at once accounted for her unwillingness to allow us to wander about, lest we should be seen by the inhabitants. I expressed my thanks to her as well as I could, and at once returned to the cavern.

She now, as before, made us collect a supply of fern leaves, as well as a number of branches; and we having again taken some food, she covered us up inside the cavern, fastening the branches in front, so as to conceal the entrance, she herself going to a little distance, and sitting down under a bank with her child. As we had had but little rest the previous morning, we quickly fell asleep.

The shades of night had again stolen over the world, when we heard the gentle voice of our conductress calling us; and once more she set out, we following her in Indian file as before. We made a circuit, apparently to avoid the village, and then descended to the sea-shore. All night long, indeed, we went on. The journey was almost a repetition of that of the previous night. The moon was still shining brightly over the waters, when Macco uttered an exclamation of surprise, and putting his hand on my shoulder, cried out,—“O Massa Walter, look dere!”

He pointed seaward, and there, just under the moonbeams, I caught sight of a white object. I looked more and more earnestly. Yes, I was almost convinced that it was the sail of a vessel. The shape of her canvas convinced me that she must be European, and not one of the mat-sail craft of those seas. Oliver thought I was right also. “Yes, yes!” exclaimed Macco; “no doubt, dat brig!”

Our conductress stopped when she heard our exclamations, and also looked towards the sea. The vessel was standing towards the south, the direction we were going. I observed that she walked, after this, more slowly, as if her thoughts were engaged on some matter of importance.

“Oh, if we could but manage to get off to her, or make some signal!” I exclaimed.

“I am afraid that will be very difficult,” said Oliver.

As may be supposed, our thoughts were occupied after this with all sorts of plans for getting off to the vessel. The fog, however, which constantly comes over the land before sunrise, concealed her entirely from our sight. We rested, by the desire of the princess, among some fallen trees in the forest, she having examined the place first, apparently to ascertain if there were any snakes, or other creatures, to hurt us. We, however, could scarcely go to sleep for thinking of how we could reach the vessel we had seen. Still, sleep at length overcame us.

We were awoke by the voice of the princess, evidently in a state of great agitation. Pointing to the sea-shore, she led the way there. She took us down to the beach of a small bay, in which a canoe was hauled up. It was barely sufficient to hold two people, and would certainly not contain three.

“Jump in, Massa Walter—jump in, Oliver!” exclaimed Macco. “Shove off; me find other canoe, and follow.”

Though it was broad daylight, the mist still hung over the ocean, and we could not see to any distance. The princess urged us by her gestures to follow the advice which Macco gave us.

“But where is there another canoe?” I asked, not seeing one near.

“Never mind, Massa Walter,” he answered; “shove off—shove off, I say;” and running the canoe down to the water, he forced us both into it, putting a paddle into the hand of each. “Dere, dere, you go off; I come off in ’noder canoe! Go, go! I say, go!”

Hitherto we had been unable to ascertain the cause of the alarm exhibited by the princess. At that moment we learned it too well, by hearing some shouts in the distance. They became louder and louder, and as they did so, her agitation increased. We endeavoured to thank her for her kindness, but she seemed too anxious to get us off to take any notice of our gestures. Trusting that we might discover the brig we had seen on the previous night, we paddled away with might and main. My heart misgave me, though, as to what would become of Macco. We saw him still on the beach waving an adieu, till both his form and that of the princess were almost hidden by the mist. The shouts increased in loudness, and just then, glancing over our shoulders, we saw a number of gigantic looking forms—gigantic they looked through the mist—rushing down with uplifted clubs towards where our friends were standing. Life was sweet to us; we could not help our friends, and we paddled away. A shriek reached our ears, but the shadowy forms were no longer visible—indeed, the whole land was concealed by the mist. On we paddled for our lives. Every instant we expected to be pursued, for though our canoe was the only one we had seen, we could not help fearing that there must be others in the neighbourhood, into which the savages would certainly get, and come in chase of us. As far as we could judge, we were pulling directly out to sea. The shouts had died away. They had assisted us somewhat in directing our course through the mist. We again heard them; they seemed to be approaching.

“We are pursued,” cried Oliver.

“Then we must pull away faster,” said I.

Again louder and louder grew the shouts. Our hopes of escape began to vanish.

“I am afraid we shall again be made prisoners,” I observed to Oliver.

“Don’t let us despair,” he answered. “We have been preserved hitherto. The same Power can still take care of us. See, see! What is that?” Just then, the mist breaking, we saw appearing above it the topgallant sails of a square-rigged vessel.

“The brig, the brig!” I shouted.

We paddled on with redoubled vigour. She was still at a considerable distance. Behind us rose the fierce cries of the savages. The surface of the water, which had hitherto been calm, now became somewhat agitated. The mist rose. Before us appeared the brig, and turning round our heads, we saw at almost an equal distance a couple of canoes. On we dashed, shouting at the same time at the top of our voices. The people on board the brig apparently heard us, for a boat was lowered. The wind was moderate; but still a heavy surf rolled in on the shore. At that moment the fragile canoe was lifted up by a sea, and then down she came upon a bed of rocks, almost splitting in two.

“On, on!” I cried to Oliver, throwing off my jacket; “we must swim for it!” and seizing him by the arm, I helped him to wade across the reef, and then plunging into the sea, we swam off towards the boat. Her crew perceived our danger, and with sturdy strokes pulled towards us. A glance I cast behind showed me that one of the canoes of the savages had met with the same accident that we had, and several dark heads were seen floating in the water, and getting fearfully near us. One of our pursuers, I saw, held a club in his hand. Had I been alone, I might easily have kept ahead of the savages, as we had so much the start of them; but Oliver not being so good a swimmer as I was, made but slow progress. The other canoe, avoiding the reef on which we had struck, made for an opening in it, and was only a short distance behind the swimmers. I looked up. Oh, how long the boat appeared to be coming! Still she was coming; and I urged Oliver to

persevere. He redoubled his efforts. How grateful I felt when at length the boat reached us. I looked up, and there I saw the countenance of Dick Tarbox, of Roger Trew, and the dark features of Potto Jumbo, expanded by excitement in the most wonderful manner. There also were several others of my shipmates. Was it a dream, or was it a reality? For an instant I thought the whole must be a strange dream. Still, no, it must be a reality, I said to myself; and crying out, urged my friends to take Oliver on board, I meantime treading water alongside. They lifted him up, and had just time to stow him in the bottom of the boat, when the savages were upon us. One fierce fellow was close to me with uplifted dagger. Roger Trew knocked it out of his hand with his oar, which the savage then seized. Another savage was coming on with his club raised in one hand, while with the other he tried to catch the stem of the boat, when Dick Tarbox came down on his cranium with the blade of an oar with such force, that the savage sunk beneath the sea. The others, meantime, began to let fly their arrows; but Tarbox, settling the other man who had hold of Roger’s oar, in the same way as he had done the first, and I being taken on board, the boat pulled rapidly towards the brig.

I still could scarcely believe that I was not dreaming. “What!” I exclaimed, looking up at Tarbox, “are you really alive, or is this all fancy? I thought you were all lost when the mast went over.”

“It is no fancy, but we are all alive and jolly,” answered Tarbox. “Thank Heaven, Roger Trew and I, and a few others of us, were able to cling on to the mast. We thought you had been lost; and thankful I am to find that we were wrong about you, as you were about us.”

However, as may be supposed, there was no time to ask questions or get answers. I was satisfied that I was really awake, and had providentially escaped from the savages. The brig, for fear of the reefs, had been unable to get nearer. Numerous other canoes were seen coming off from the shore. The savages appeared determined to recapture us; and, perhaps, finding that the brig did not fire, hoped to take her also. Before, however, they could reach the boat, we were alongside.

I quickly sprang up on deck, and there, with open arms, stood to welcome me, my dear sister Emily. Grace and Mr Hooker were behind her. They greeted me cordially. As may be supposed, they had many questions to ask me, and so had I to ask them. The brig, I found, had been fitted up by Mr Hooker and Captain Davenport. The captain, I was sorry to hear, was unable to come in her, and Mrs Davenport had remained behind at Ternate to nurse him. Mr Thudicumb had come in command, with those of the crew of the Bussorah Merchant who had been left on shore.

The captain’s object was to search for his lost ship. Mr Hooker had the same object in view, as also to examine the various islands we were likely to call at, for the sake of gaining information in natural history. Emily had entreated to be allowed to come; and the captain, after some hesitation, thinking that his daughter’s health might be benefited by the voyage, allowed her to accompany Grace. An old Dutch woman, Frau Ursula she was called, who spoke a little English, and to whom I was presently introduced, came as a sort of nurse, or governante.

The savages meantime were approaching; and Mr Thudicumb and his men were making preparations for their reception, getting all the arms on board loaded, including a couple of small brass swivel guns and two six-pounders, which we carried on our quarters for making signals. The land-breeze, however, freshened considerably, just before the leading canoes got within bow-shot.

“Don’t fire, Thudicumb, as long as we can help it,” said Mr Hooker. “I have no wish to injure these poor savages; and if we can avoid doing so, it will be much better, both for ourselves and for any who may come after us. I believe that many of the murders which have been committed by the savages, on these and other coasts, have been caused by some insult or injury, first inflicted by the white men, and they have simply retaliated, fully believing themselves justified in so doing.”

The sails were trimmed, and away we stood from the coast. I seized a glass, and tried to examine the shore, in the hope of seeing either our kind protectress or Macco; but neither were visible, and it seemed too likely that both had been killed by the savages. When I had time to tell Mr Hooker about Macco, he proposed standing back to try and hear something of him, and to bring him off if he had escaped. The savages, finding they could not overtake us, at length pulled back to the shore.

“And now, my good boys,” said Mr Hooker, “you may as well rig yourselves decently. You have been living so long among savages, that you are scarcely aware of the uncivilised figure you cut.”

I had nearly forgotten my scanty garments in the excitement of what was taking place. Mr Hookers shirts were certainly rather large for Oliver or me; but he insisted on our taking one apiece, as also a pair of duck-trowsers. “I have no doubt that Roger Trew, and one of the other men, will cut a pair for you into proper dimensions by to-morrow,” he said, laughing, as he handed us the garments. Some spare jackets, which more nearly fitted us, were found among the men’s things; and we were thus able to appear in the cabin in rather more civilised costume than we had come off in, and be presented to the Frau. She was a somewhat portly dame, with a most good-humoured countenance, her little round blue eyes appearing to be always laughing, while her mouth was constantly wreathed in what Mr Hooker used to call full-blown smiles. She had kind, sympathising feelings, and wept heartily when she heard of the fate of the Princess Serena, which we described to her. Emily and Grace, too, were much moved by it, and very sorry to hear that the faithful Macco had also too probably lost his life in his anxiety to save ours.

“I am so glad to see you, Massa Walter,” said Potto Jumbo, as he shook my hand when I went forward to the caboose, in which, in spite of its small size, he appeared quite as happy as in the large one on board the Bussorah Merchant; “only bery sorry to lose cook-mate. Poor Macco! He bery good cook-mate!”

“Yes, indeed; he was a very excellent and sensible fellow,” I observed. “I trust he may have escaped, and that we may get him on board again.”

I could not bear the idea of thinking that poor Macco had been murdered. Potto Jumbo, however, said he had very little hopes on the subject, as evidently, from the conduct of the savages, they were fierce, revengeful fellows, and were certain to have wreaked their vengeance on those who were still in their power.

Next day, we again stood in towards the coast, with a white flag flying, hoping that the savages might understand it. No canoes, however, came off. In my eagerness to try and recover Macco, I volunteered to go off in a boat; but to this Mr Thudicumb would not consent. He said he was sure that the savages would pursue us; and that the only two boats we had in the brig were too heavy to give us any chance of escape. I scanned the coast with a telescope all day long, on the chance of seeing some signal from the shore, but none appeared; and at length, with much sorrow, I gave up all expectation of recovering poor Macco.

The brig then made sail to the southward, to visit the Aru Islands, which Mr Hooker was desirous of exploring. Some time passed before I had an opportunity of asking Dick Tarbox how he and his companions had escaped.

“Why, you see, Master Walter,” he said, “after supper that day, some of us old hands thought of putting some biscuits and ham in our pockets, though we did not remember them till we were beginning to get very peckish. When the mast fell, we still clung to it, except two poor fellows, who were washed off much at the time that you were; and as they have not turned up, I am afraid they must have perished. The rest of us clung on for dear life. As you remember, soon afterwards the sea went down, and we were able to stand up on the mast and look about us. It was now we recollected the food we had stuffed into our pockets, and lucky it was that we had done so, or we should have been starved: as it was, we nearly died of thirst. Still, though we had a hard matter to get the food down, with our throats so dry, yet we did manage it, and held on to dear life. We were, howsomedever, almost giving up, when we caught sight of a sail coming over the water to us. She was a native craft; but whether or not the people on board her might knock us on the head, we could not tell. Still, anything was better than staying where we were. We had not our choice, though, for the people aboard the prow caught sight of us, and came up to the mast. They were pretty peaceable-looking fellows, though their skins were brown enough. We managed to make them understand that our ship had been cast away: indeed, our mast showed them that; and we were not long in tumbling on board, and making our salaams to an old chap, who seemed to be their captain. He was rather vexed when he could not understand what we said, or we understand what he said to us. However, he observed that we might rig ourselves in mats while our clothes were drying, and had some dishes of rice and smoked fish put before us. When the sea went down, they got out their sweeps, and pulled round where they supposed the ship had struck, in the hopes of getting something up from her; and there were some fellows on board who seemed to be well up to diving. However, they were not successful; and suddenly they got out their sweeps, and pulled away to the northward. A strange sail which appeared some little way off was, we supposed, the cause of their doing this. Probably they took her for a pirate.”

“Very likely that was the craft we were on board,” I observed. “It would have been curious if we had come up with you.”

“Well, for your sakes, I am rather glad you did not,” said the boatswain. “In a little time, our friends, who seemed bound to a distance, began to think that our room would be pleasanter than our company. They had a strange cargo on board,—bales of that nasty-looking stuff, the sea-slug, and birds’ nests, and mother-of-pearl shell, and I do not know how many other odd things. Two or three days afterwards, coming in sight of an island, they quietly made signs to us to get into a boat; and though we at first talked of showing fight, and declaring we would do no such thing, yet at last we agreed, seeing we had no arms to fight with except our fists, that it would be better to obey. To make a long story short, we were shoved on shore on a desolate island; we supposing that we were to find some houses, and people to look after us, but not a human being or a hut could we discover. There was water and there were cocoa-nuts; and as we had our knives, we had a chance of getting some shell-fish, if we could not find anything else. Now, as it happened, not one of us had been on a desolate island before; and there we were, six stout fellows, very little better off than babes in the wood. We had short commons, I can tell you, Master Walter. There were birds enough, and some of them with gay feathers, but we could not catch them; and there were animals, but they got away from us. At first we thought we were not going to find any water; but we did come up to a spring, which bubbled up out of the earth—the only one that we could discover on the island. That kept our throats moist. We had a hard job to get a light. We hunted about for tinder out of the rotten trees; but, then, there was the flint to be found: and no flint could we fall in with. You may be sure we hunted in our pockets, and looked about with our noses on the ground wherever we went. At last, what should we see but a bit of a broken tea-cup. At first I thought it was a bit of shell. How it could have come there I do not know, except it was thrown overboard from some Chinese craft and washed up there. Well, that bit of china was of more use to us than its weight in gold. Taking it in my hand, and beginning to strike it against the back of my knife, what was my joy to see a spark fly from it. It was but one; but one little spark was, I knew, enough to kindle a great fire. Well, we dried our tinder in the sun, and then began to strike away with the flint and china. Roger Trew took it in hand first, and struck and struck away; but though the sparks came, not one could he make go down to the tinder. At last I took it; and didn’t I feel pleased when I saw there was a spark resting on the tinder. We blew, not too hard, you may depend on it, and blew and blew, and the spark began to grow larger and larger, and the whole of the tinder was on fire. Did not we bring dried leaves in a hurry!—and, blowing them, up there sprung a flame in no time. We soon collected a whole load of sticks, and in a few minutes there we had a fire blazing away. We felt inclined to join hands and dance round it. We did not, though. We quickly got our shell-fish, and began roasting them. We thought them very good, though they were not much for keeping body and soul together. Well, we did prize that piece of old china, and I kept it carefully in one pocket, with my knife in the other; and we made up a big fire, almost enough to roast an ox, though we had nothing but a few cockles to cook by it. However, the food, such as it was, put a little more spirit into us, and we set out to see what sort of a country we had been left on. It was not very large; but we saw a number of parrots and parroquets up in the trees, and many other birds, but we had not much chance of getting them. Still, we all agreed we would do our best.

“Well, we walked and walked along the shore, and now and then went inland; but we could not make much way there, on account of the trees. At last, looking up, I saw some tall palm-trees, and at the top of them there were some cocoa-nuts. You may be sure we set to work to get up at them; but it is pretty hard work climbing a cocoa-nut tree without ropes, not like swarming up a mast. However, Roger Trew did haul himself up; but then, you see, there are not many men who have got arms like his, and they are better by half than legs for climbing trees. That is why the monkeys have them so strong, I suppose. To be sure, some of them have got tails to help them. Do you know, I have often thought what convenient things tails would be to sailors, if they could catch hold by them as monkeys do. Howsomedever, Roger got to the top at last, and then he sent thundering down a dozen cocoa-nuts or more. Some of our fellows thought they were to be eaten husk and all, and cried out they did not think that would do them much good. At last we got them broken open, and sucked away at the juice inside, which had begun to turn almost into milk. They were more than ripe. It is said that young cocoa-nuts have far more juice and are far better than the old ones. Still, you may be sure, we were very glad to get these at any price; and having found some trees, we had fair hopes of finding more. Still, cocoa-nuts and shell-fish, though they may keep body and soul together, after a time do little more than that; and we all became thinner and thinner. I am not at all sure that we should have lived many weeks longer, so thin and wretched did we get, when at last a sail appeared in sight. Our hearts beat pretty quick when we thought that after all she might not come near the island. Oh! how eagerly we watched her. Now she seemed to be standing away; now, once more, she tacked, and stood towards the island. There was a high rock near, running out into the sea. We made our way to it; and one of our people tearing off his shirt, we made it fast to it, to serve as a signal. You may be sure we gave a shout of joy when up went a flag in return, and the brig stood towards the island. She was no other than this little Dugong, as they call her, and Mr Thudicumb, and your friend Mr Hooker, come to look for us. We were all very glad to see each other; but we felt very sorry when we thought that you and Oliver had been lost. And now, I’ll tell you, Master Walter, it was about the happiest moment in my life when I got hold of you, and helped you into the boat safe from those savages.”

Chapter Seventeen.

The Aru islands visited.

Leaving the coast of New Guinea, the Dugong stood across to the Aru Islands, which Mr Hooker was anxious to visit. I may as well say that the dugong is a large fish found in these waters, from ten to twelve feet in length, of the whale species. They swim in flocks, often coming into shallow water.

The natives prize them for food. We speared one, and got it on board; and we all agreed, when the fish was cooked, that we had seldom tasted a more delicate dish. However, the look of the dugong is not attractive. Mr Hooker told me that the female dugong is remarkable for the affection which she has for her young, of which she produces only one at a time. If the young dugong is speared, she will never leave it, but is sure to be taken also.

We approached the Aru Islands from the southward. The sea between them and New Guinea is very shallow, considerably under fifty fathoms in many places. There are about eighty of them, mostly very low, and forming a chain about a hundred miles in length, and half that distance in width. They belong to the Dutch. The inhabitants are very mixed. There is a larger number of Papuans than any other race among the population. Two or three native Christian schoolmasters have been sent over from Amboyna to teach the inhabitants. We could just see these islands in the far distance, when we found ourselves approaching a fleet of large native boats at anchor. Two or three vessels were also at anchor near them. With our glasses we could see a number of figures standing up in the boats, and then suddenly disappearing overboard. Others were seen climbing up over the sides. What they could be about I could not at first guess. On pointing them out to Mr Hooker, however, he said at once that they must be pearl-divers; and as the wind was very light, and we passed close to them, we had an opportunity of observing their proceedings. There appeared to be about a dozen men in each boat, half of whom were evidently, from their want of dress, the divers, while two other men we took to be the chief and an assistant. A large sugar-loaf stone was let down overboard by a thick rope. A diver stepped on the gunwale, holding on by the rope, and apparently placing his toe in a loop or hole to keep his foot in its place. On the other foot a net was fastened. With this apparatus the diver began to descend. Before, however, his head reached the water I saw that he held his nose very tightly with his hand. This was, I understood, to prevent the water getting into his nostrils. We calculated that about four from each boat were down at a time, and we judged that each man remained from two to three minutes below the water. Up he came again at the end of that time, apparently very little exhausted, although he must have been making active exertions to collect the shells. After he had come to the top, the net containing the oysters was drawn up, and in that time he had collected from a hundred to a hundred and fifty.

We watched them with great interest, and were anxious to procure some of the oysters, but the chiefs would not sell them; indeed, they all belong to merchants who have rented the fishing for the season. Some of the men, we observed, suffered far more than others, and discharged water from their mouths and ears and nostrils, and some even blood; but, notwithstanding this, the same men were ready to go down again when their turn came. We learned that most of them will make from forty to fifty plunges in one day, and that a few of the most experienced and strongest remain down nearly five minutes. Their greatest danger is from the ground shark, which lies in wait at the bottom. However, some of these men will face even the shark, with knives in their hands, and come off victorious. To secure themselves still further, some of the boats carry conjurers or priests on board, who, by their incantations, are supposed to preserve them from the attacks of the shark. Of course, if a diver is picked off by a shark, the conjurer asserts that he has not properly obeyed his directions, and thus does not lose his credit. The saw-fish is another of the diver’s foes, more dangerous, because more difficult to attack than the shark.

The merchants have to keep a very strict look-out on the divers on their return to the shore, as frequently when the oyster is in the boat, and left alive undisturbed for some time, it opens its shell. A pearl may then easily be discovered, and, by means of a piece of wood, the shell be prevented from again closing till the diver has an opportunity of picking out the prize. Sometimes they will even swallow the pearls to conceal them. As soon as the boats arrive on the shore the oysters are put in holes or pits dug in the ground to the depth of about two feet, fenced carefully round to guard them from depredation. Mats are first spread below them to prevent them touching the earth. Here the oysters are left to die and rot. As soon as they have passed through a state of putrefaction and become dry, they can be easily opened without the danger of injuring the pearl, which might be the case if they were opened when fresh. The shell is then carefully examined for pearls. Sometimes one is found in the body of the mollusc itself, but it is generally in the shell. We afterwards, on going on shore, had a specimen of the horrid odour which arises from these pits, but the people who are accustomed to it do not appear to suffer; indeed, we saw people groping about on the sands where the oyster pits had existed, and learned that they were seeking for stray oysters, frequently pearls of some value being thus discovered.

Emily and Grace, as well as Oliver and I, took great interest in watching the proceedings I have described. I asked Mr Hooker how pearls come to exist.

“Oh, I have read somewhere,” exclaimed Emily, “that they are produced by a kind of dew which falls from heaven into the salt water, where the oyster swallows it, when it hardens and forms the beautiful white object we call a pearl.”

“A very poetical notion, Miss Emily,” observed Mr Hooker; “but in reality pearls are identical with the substance which we call mother-of-pearl, which lines the shell of the oyster. It is, indeed, the result of disease. When any substance intrudes into the shell the animal puts forth a viscous liquor, which agglomerates and hardens till the pearl is formed. It is said, indeed, in some places, that the divers pierce the shells of the oysters, and thus increase the number of pearls. It has also been discovered that oysters which have been pierced by a certain small marine worm have invariably pearls within them. The oyster, to defend itself from the worm, covers the hole with a substance which becomes as hard as the shell, and brilliant as mother-of-pearl.”

A breeze springing up towards evening, we proceeded on our voyage, followed by the boats, which also shaped a course for the Aru Islands. In the course of the next day we came in sight of a small rocky island with high cliffs, off which we espied a couple of Chinese junks at anchor. As the island was not much out of our course, we stood towards it, keeping the lead going for fear of reefs. The water, however, was deep close up to the rocks. The cliffs completely overhung the sea, and we observed within them numerous hollows and caverns. On getting nearer, we saw that several boats belonging to the junks were lying directly under the cliffs. As the wind fell, we came to an anchor, for the sea over which we were now sailing was so shallow, that we could anchor in calm weather in almost any part of it.

A boat was lowered, and Mr Hooker invited us to accompany him. As we passed near the Chinese junk the crew hailed us, and Mr Hooker, who understood a little Chinese, remarked that they seemed very angry with us.

“They think, probably, that we have come to search for edible birds’ nests, which they themselves are now collecting,” he observed.

“Edible birds’ nests?” exclaimed Emily and Grace together. “Do you mean to say, Mr Hooker, by that, that there are birds’ nests fit to eat?”

“The Chinese not only think them fit to eat, but esteem them great delicacies,” observed Mr Hooker. “These junks have come all the way from China to collect them, and if they manage to get back without being plundered by pirates, or sent to the bottom by storms, they will make an enormous profit by the voyage.”

Mr Hooker hailed the junk in return, and told the men that they need not be alarmed; that we did not come to interfere with them, but only prompted by curiosity to see what they were about. As we got nearer we saw the entrance to a cavern, into which we pulled. A far from pleasant odour issued from it, while ahead there was an inky darkness, which the keenest eye could not penetrate. As we proceeded, however, we observed a bright light coming from the interior, which showed us a boat with a couple of Chinese in her, one of whom was holding a torch; while another man, by means of a ladder, was mounting up a narrow ledge of rock on the side. Overhead huge bats flitted round us, while on every side the tiny chirp of innumerable birds was taken up and echoed from seemingly a thousand voices throughout the cavern. Above the head of the Chinese appeared a number of nests, something in the shape of large deep spoons without handles, split in half longitudinally, smaller than the ordinary swallow’s nest. They were placed, without any order apparently, on every spot where a slight projection of the rock afforded a foundation. The Chinese, like their friends on board the junk, began to abuse us for coming to interfere with their occupation. Mr Hooker, however, soon pacified them, and offered them some money for a few of the nests, that we might examine them. This brought them at once into good humour, and they very readily sold us a dozen or more of the nests, though I thought the price for birds’ nests a very high one. A number of birds like swallows were flying in and out of the cavern. They had the flight of swallows; indeed, Mr Hooker said they were a species of swallow. They were about the size of robins or sparrows; their breasts white, their wings grey, and their backs and the feathers of their tails shining black. On examining the nests which we had purchased, we found that they were composed of a gelatinous substance something like isinglass.

“This is the substance,” Mr Hooker told us, “that the Chinese make into broth. They are packed, however, just as they are cut from the rock, and carried to China. There they are cleansed from all extraneous substances, and are then boiled or stewed, every particle of dirt being thus more completely removed; and then, with a mixture of spices, they make a transparent, delicate-looking jelly, although, without the spices, they have little or no flavour.”

“But where can they obtain this jelly-like substance?” asked Emily.

“I believe it is produced from a mollusc of some sort, on which the birds feed. When they require to build their nests, they disgorge the gelatinous portion for the purpose; and as this substance possesses the nutritive qualities of animal matter, I have little doubt that it is produced from these molluscs,” said Mr Hooker.

Not only within the cavern, but on all available and tolerably sheltered spots outside, we saw a number of the sea-swallows’ nests. We pulled close under one cliff, where we could distinguish clearly a bird sitting in its nest—we concluded on its eggs—and looking very much at its ease. Another little bird was standing watching its nest. We supposed therefore that its young had been hatched; and as they were in an inaccessible part of the cliff, we hoped they would escape the Chinaman’s grasp.

As we had given a good price for the first nests, the Chinese willingly sold us another dozen, with which, wishing them a successful bird’s-nesting expedition, we returned on board the Dugong. The Malays assert that the bird feeds upon insects and other minute creatures floating on the surface of the sea; and on further examining the nests, we perceived long filaments resembling very fine vermicelli, coiled one part over the other, without any regularity, and glued together by transverse rows of the same material. Mr Hooker told us that the trade in birds’ nests employs a large amount of capital and men. However, the loss of life arising from accidents and exposure is very great. It has been asserted that, on an average, two out of every five men employed in bird’s-nesting meet with a violent death. In China a “catty” or one pound and a quarter English, of the best nests, sells at about 9 pounds sterling. Their value depends chiefly upon their translucent whiteness. Those which have not been lined or used by the birds obtain the highest prices.

Frau Ursula made a small dish of a few of the birds’ nests, which, when first put before us, were perfectly tasteless. When, however, she had added certain seasoning, it was pronounced as delicate as any food could be. The Chinese use them chiefly for thickening their soups and ragouts.

The sea-swallow is found along the northern coast of Australia, as well as on the rocks and islands of the sea which we were now navigating. A large number of Chinese junks come every year to procure the nests, which are greatly prized in China.

As we neared the Aru Islands we passed close to a number of boats at anchor, the people from which were continually jumping overboard, diving, and returning to the surface with some creatures in their hands. As on the previous day, the wind was light, and we were able to accompany Mr Hooker, and pulled off in the boat to see what they were about.

“What can they be getting?” I asked.

“The creatures the natives are collecting are the holothurians, or sea-cucumbers,” answered the naturalist. “There are a great many species of these creatures; but, I believe, those found on banks of coral sand are the most valued.”

Emily and Grace, however, when they saw the creatures, could not help expressing exclamations of disgust at their appearance. They were like gigantic slugs, or long black bags with frills at the top. Mr Hooker purchased a basket full of the creatures, which he wished to examine more at his leisure.

“But of what use can those ugly things be?” asked Emily, as we pulled back to the vessel.

“Our omnivorous friends the Chinese would be very much surprised at your asking the question,” answered Mr Hooker. “They look upon them as one of their most delicate articles of food, though greatly inferior to the birds’ nests we found yesterday. I see it stated that from Macassar alone these creatures are shipped to China to the value of 150,000 pounds; and this is only a very small portion of those used, not only by the Chinese, but the natives of many other parts of the shores of those seas. When taken on shore, their intestines are removed, and they are then boiled in sea-water: in some places with the leaves of the papaw, and in others with the bark of the mangrove-tree, which gives them a bright red colour. After they have been boiled, they are buried in the ground till the next day, when they are spread out to dry in the sun. They are now considered fit for shipment to China, to which the larger number are sent. In some places, however, they are not buried, but smoked over the fire on a framework formed of bamboo. The Chinese make them into soups, sometimes boiling pieces of sugar-cane with them, which is said to neutralise their rank flavour.”

Sailing round the north end of the group, we approached its capital, or chief trading settlement, situated off the north-west end. It is called Dobbo. Just as we came off it we sighted a Dutch man-of-war brig, and stood towards her. The wind was light, and she had, apparently, fishing-lines overboard. Mr Hooker hailed her, and asked her where she was bound for. Her commander, who spoke English, replied, “For Ternate.”

“How fortunate!” I exclaimed. “We can then write to Captain Davenport, and tell him of our safety.”

The commander at once politely offered to convey a letter. “He might however,” he observed, “be some little time on the passage, as he was in search of pirates, whose vessels had lately been heard of in those seas, and had committed depredations on the islands under protection of the Dutch.”

We all hurried down into the cabin to write our letters, as, of course, I was anxious to give an account of what had occurred to my kind friend. Emily wished to write to Mrs Davenport, as did also Grace to her mother. As there was not much time, we described our adventures as briefly as possible. Mr Hooker had proposed to proceed through the Java Seas to Singapore; while Captain Davenport had arranged, should he be able to obtain a vessel, to go there by way of the Sooloo Archipelago, round the north of Borneo. On returning on deck we saw a great commotion on board the brig—all the sailors rushing aft, and hauling away at a rope overboard. In a short time the snout of a huge fish appeared above the water, struggling violently, and it seemed very likely he would break away. “A shark! a shark!” cried our men. I had scarcely supposed so enormous a creature existed. He was fully twenty-six feet long, and looked capable of swallowing not only a man’s leg, but the whole of his body at a gulp. It made me shudder at the thought of falling overboard, and I felt thankful that while struggling in the water no such monster had found me out. “O Walter! how terrible!” exclaimed Emily. The same idea seemed to have crossed her mind. One of the officers stood, harpoon in hand, ready to strike the creature as he was drawn up under the vessel’s counter. A “whip” was immediately rigged, and the crew hauling away, the shark, in spite of his struggles, was hoisted up on deck. Scarcely had he reached it, however, than we saw the crew scattering right and left; and it looked as if he had taken the deck from them, so violent were the lashes he gave with his tail as he floundered up and down, and turned and twisted on every side. At length the most daring of the men returned aft, armed with capstan bars and hatchets; but it was not till after many blows, and jumping and leaping to get out of the way of the monster’s tail, that he was seen to lie quiet on the deck.

I then went in the boat with our despatches on board the brig. The commander received me very politely, and undertook to deliver them. He warned us to keep a sharp look-out for pirates, as our brig being only slightly armed, they were very likely to attack us should we meet them. He kindly offered me some slices of the shark; but I laughingly declined the gift, saying that we were going on shore, where we might find plenty of beef and mutton. He laughed, however, at that notion, and observed that we were more likely to find pig and kangaroo, as beef and mutton were articles unknown in that region. I bid him and his officers farewell, and returned to the Dugong, I felt greatly relieved at the thought that Captain Davenport would now hear of our safety, and hoped before long to meet him and his kind wife at Singapore. I told Mr Hooker that I had been offered some of the shark’s flesh, but had declined receiving it.

“Had he presented a Chinese with the fins, he would have been overwhelmed with gratitude, as they are considered almost as delicate morsels as the edible birds’ nests,” said Mr Hooker. “The creature in many parts is caught for the sake of his fins alone, which are sent to China in large quantities, where they are used in the same way that the birds’ nests and tripang are employed, though they rank next to birds’ nests in value. They are of the same gelatinous consistency, and are made into soups and ragouts.”

Dobbo, being exposed, to the sea-breezes, is healthy, and a good anchorage is found close to it. The place presented an animated appearance, as traders from all parts of the archipelago assemble there. The buildings they inhabited were not, however, pretentious, being composed of bamboo and reeds; while many of the traders considered clothes somewhat superfluous. On the shore a number of prows were hauled up and being refitted for sea. Caulkers were at work on some; painters on others, who were covering them with a thick white lime plaster, making them look very clean and bright. Sailmakers, who looked, however, more like mat-makers, were at work in some places. The tripang—black ugly lumps—was being exposed to the sun to be prepared for loading. In another spot people were busy tying up bundles of mother-of-pearl shell. Carpenters were engaged in squaring timber for repairing vessels; while boats from the islands of Goram and Ceram were unloading their cargoes of sago-cake, with which the traders supply themselves for their homeward voyage. We were amused with the vast number of different cockatoos, lories, and parrots, which were secured by strings on bamboo perches in front of the numerous reed huts, all chattering and talking together, as if carrying on some important consultation; while beautiful metallic-green or white fruit-pigeons were uttering their pleasing coos in all directions. These people are evidently fond of tame creatures, for we saw several beautiful little kangaroos hopping about, quite as tame and as elegant as fawns. Young cassowaries also, striped with black and brown, ran about as tame as barn-door fowls. This is a wingless bird, the body of which is about double the size of that of a large turkey, but its long legs make it five or six feet in height. It is covered with long, coarse, black, hair-like feathers. The skin of the neck is bare, and is of a bright blue and red. Instead of wings it has a group of horny black spines, like porcupine quills. The species I have described is found in the neighbourhood of the island of Ceram. Mr Hooker told us that it feeds chiefly on fallen fruits, and on insects or Crustacea. The female lays from three to five large eggs of a shagreen-green colour, upon a bed of leaves. The male and female sit alternately for about a month upon them. The articles we saw exposed for sale in the fair were chiefly pearl shell and the tripang, known also as the bêche-de-mer; as also tortoise-shell, edible birds’ nests, pearls, and birds of paradise, or rather their stuffed skins. The Malay traders had brought for sale, or to exchange with these articles, guns, swords, knives, choppers, tobacco, plates and basins, handkerchiefs, sarongs, calicoes, and arrack in bottles. Tea, coffee, sugar, and wine, were also to be seen; and even fancy goods, such as china ornaments, pipes and purses; umbrellas, razors, and looking-glasses; indeed, it is curious what a number of articles are found in this out-of-the-way spot, and many of them costing no more than they did in England.

These articles are exchanged for English calico, crockery, cutlery, fire-arms, gunpowder, gongs, and elephants’ tusks. They not only buy muskets, but small brass guns, on which they set a high value. They also prize tobacco for chewing. We always slept on board, and the sound of the Malays’ songs came across the water to a late hour of the night. The musical instruments we heard were tom-toms, Jews’-harps, and frequently fiddles. The Malays are a merry, vivacious people, and fond of several games. The most interesting was a game at football, which was generally played in the evening. The ball is small, made of ratan, hollow, elastic, and light. One of the players dances it for a short time on his foot, sometimes on his arm or thigh, and then striking it with the hollow of his foot, sends it flying high into the air. A player from the opposite side rushes forward, catches it on his foot in the same way, and returns it. The rule appeared to be that the ball should never be touched by the hand, but that the arms, shoulder, or knee may be employed. Far less satisfactory was their custom of cock-fighting. Steel spurs are used, as they were formerly in civilised England; and the spectators, who stand round in a ring, show their savage character by their fearful yells and leaps as they see their cocks likely to win or lose.

We saw shells used here for every purpose. Some of the magnificent volute shells were employed as baskets; while gigantic helmet shells, suspended by ratan handles, formed the vessels in which fresh water was brought from house to house.

I was delighted to find that Mr Hooker had resolved to make an excursion into the interior of the mainland for the sake of obtaining some birds of paradise. As the fatigue might be too great for the young ladies, they remained on board under charge of Frau Ursula; Oliver and I only accompanying him, with two native hunters, a trustworthy guide, and an interpreter who spoke Dutch. The natives of these islands, I should say, are Papuans, and in some parts are said to be very savage. They are expert archers, and are never seen without their bows and arrows. They shoot pigs and kangaroos with them, as well as all sorts of birds. We met some of the natives who came from the south islands, who were even more savage in appearance and manners than the rest. They wore a number of rude ornaments—one of comb, shaped like a horse-shoe, on their foreheads, the ends resting on the temples. The end of this ornament is fastened into a piece of wood, plated in front with tin; above it waves a plume of feathers of a cock’s tail.

In the Aru Islands are found a number of birds of paradise, some, indeed, of the most beautiful, which I will describe shortly.

Chapter Eighteen.

A search for birds of paradise.

I must give a very brief account of our excursion, which we had just before projected. A native boat carried us across to the mainland, and landing, we were amused with the number of sea-shells which we found on the ground away from the beach. They were of a variety of shapes and kinds, which had been taken possession of by those curious creatures, the hermit crabs, who wander into the forest in search of food. Sometimes, however, they become food themselves to huge spiders, and we saw one monster carry away a fair-sized shell, and devour its unhappy occupant. We came upon several little parties of hermit crabs, whom, breaking through their custom, we found assembled round some delicate morsel; but as soon as they heard us, away they scrambled as fast as they could crawl. The spiders were huge spotted monsters, with bodies two inches long, and legs in proportion. They form thick glutinous threads across the path, which are very unpleasant to meet, and really cost a great deal of trouble to get rid of. Sometimes, indeed, we ran our faces directly against one of the monsters, though in most cases the creature was as glad to get off as we were to get rid of him. We met also numerous lizards, of various shades of green, grey, and brown, every rotten trunk being alive with them, as they ran about seeking for insects. Our native hunters had arrows with heads as large as a small tea-cup, for the purpose of shooting the birds of paradise.

Among the most beautiful vegetable productions are the tree-ferns. We were never tired of admiring them, and Mr Hooker said they were superior in size and beauty to any he had before seen. There were also beautiful palms with slender smooth stems, perfectly straight, reaching to the height of a hundred feet, and surmounted by a crown of gracefully drooping leaves.

Our men carried sleeping mats for us to wrap ourselves in at night, with a small kettle for boiling our tea, and a pot for cooking our meat or soup. When resting at night we quickly formed an impromptu hut of boughs. I could not help wishing that my sister and Grace had been with us, to admire the beautiful forests and magnificent birds we saw. Rising in the morning, we witnessed another dance of the birds of paradise in some trees close to us, and our native hunters shot several of them.

“It is strange,” said Mr Hooker, “that the only inhabitants of this region, where the most graceful of trees and the most beautiful of birds in the universe exist, should be inhabited by races utterly incapable of appreciating them.”

“Perhaps, sir, it may be that God has thus arranged it, that civilised man should be led to the spot to make His name known among those savages. Had it not been for these birds of paradise, perhaps these very islands might not have been heard of.”

“Ah, Oliver, I like that idea. I think you are right,” said Mr Hooker, and he was silent for some minutes. I too was struck by it.

“Yes, sir,” said Oliver, “God has a reason for all His arrangements, and I think it is allowable for us to conjecture what that reason may be; but though we cannot find it out, we may be very sure the reason exists.”

We had been walking on through the forest, when one of our hunters made a sign to us to stop, and he advanced cautiously. We saw him raise his bow and let fly an arrow. Down fell a small bird rather larger than a thrush, the plumage as we saw it falling being of the most intense cinnabar red with the softest and most lovely gloss. Mr Hooker ran forward in the greatest state of agitation I had ever seen him exhibit, and kneeling down, gradually lifted up the bird. Had he discovered a nugget of gold of the same size, he could not have appeared more delighted. The feathers of the head were short and velvety, and shaded into a rich orange beneath. From the breast downwards the body was like the softest white gloss silk, while across the breast a band of deep metallic-green separated it from the red throat. Above each eye was a round spot, also of metallic-green. The bill was yellow, and the feet and legs were of a fine cobalt-blue, forming a striking contrast with the other parts of the body. On each side of the breast, concealed under the wings, were tufts of grey feathers, about two inches in length, terminated by a broad band of deep emerald-green. These plumes are raised, as in the other species we saw, into a pair of elegant fans when the wings are elevated. Besides these beautiful ornaments, there were in the middle of the tail two feathers like slender wires, about five inches long, diverging into a double curve. The end of these wires are webbed on the outer side, and covered with a fine metallic-green; so that the bird appears to have two elegant glittering circles hanging about five inches from the body, and the same distance apart.

It was some time before our kind friend could recover himself.

“Is it not beautiful? is it not beautiful?” he kept exclaiming as he held it up, still kneeling on the ground and exhibiting its various beauties. “Walter, I tell you that this is the most beautiful of the eight thousand different kinds of birds which our beneficent Creator has placed on this earth, to adorn it for the sake of us mortals. Not one of them possesses these spiral-tipped tail wires nor these beautiful breast fans. Then look at the colours. What art can in any way approach them! This is the King Bird of Paradise—the Paradisea Regia, we naturalists call it. Well worthy is it of the name.” When we stopped for the night, our attendants quickly built some leafy sheds, into which we crept, wrapped up in our mats, after we had partaken of our supper—consisting of a parrot pie, which we had brought with us, and also of some sago biscuit, washed down with arrack and water. Our guides would have preferred the spirit undiluted, as they are fond of potent liquors as well as of strong-tasted food. At early morn, before the sun rose, we heard the well-known cry of “Wawk—wawk—wawk!—Wok—wok—wok!” resounding through the forest, and continually changing its direction. Looking up, we caught sight of nights of the great bird of paradise, going to seek their breakfasts on the fruit-bearing trees. Lories and parroquets soon afterwards flew off from their perches, uttering shrill cries. King hunters croaked and barked; and cockatoos, black and white, screamed loudly through the woods; while numerous smaller birds, many also of the most lovely plumage, chirruped and whistled as they saluted the dawn. Our hunters, one with a gun, the other with a bow and arrows, started forth while we lighted our fire and made other preparations for breakfast. One of them soon came back with a large black bird having an enormous bill. Mr Hooker jumped up, almost letting drop the saucepan which he held in his hand, in his eagerness at the sight of the bird.

“A superb black cockatoo!” he exclaimed. “This is indeed a prize.”

All thoughts of eating were abandoned, while he expatiated on the beauty of the bird and its peculiar mode of living. Compared to its largely developed head, which was ornamented with a superb crest, its body appeared weak and small. It had long slender legs and large wings, its head being armed with a sharp-pointed hooked bill of prodigious size and strength. The plumage was quite black, and had over it the peculiar powdery white secretion which characterises cockatoos. The cheeks were bare, and of an intense blood-red colour. We had heard its voice the evening before, which, unlike the harsh scream of the white cockatoo, is that of a plaintive whistle. The tongue was a slender fleshy cylinder of a deep red colour, terminated by a black horny plate, furred across, and possessing prehensile power. We afterwards saw several of them, mostly one at a time, though now and then we caught sight of two or three together. They were flying slowly and noiselessly, and our hunter told us that a very slight wound would kill them.

“See here, Walter and Oliver; observe its powerful beak. This bird lives upon the kernel of the kanary-nut. We passed several of those lofty trees as we came along. This bill is evidently formed for the purpose of eating this kanary-nut, which no other bird can do. By-the-by, I picked up one. Here it is. See! it is so hard that a heavy hammer alone can crack it.”

The outside of the nut Mr Hooker showed us was quite smooth, and of a somewhat triangular shape.

“However, the birds are hungry, and we will try and catch flight of one of our black friends taking his breakfast, and see how he manages.”

We quickly discussed our breakfast, and immediately afterwards set off in search of a kanary-tree. On one of the lower branches we were fortunate enough to see a black cockatoo perched. He had just taken one of the nuts end-ways into his bill, where he kept it firm by the pressure of the tongue. He then cut a transverse notch, so Mr Hooker declared, by the lateral sawing motion of the lower mandible. He next took hold of the nut by his foot, and biting off a piece of a neighbouring leaf, retained it in the deep notch of the upper mandible. Again seizing the nut, which was prevented from slipping by the elastic tissue of the leaf, he fixed the edge of the lower mandible in the notch, and by a powerful nip broke off a piece of the shell. Once more taking it in his claws, he inserted the very long and sharp point of his bill and picked out the kernel, which he seized hold of, morsel by morsel, with his curiously formed, extensible tongue. As no other bird in existence can compete with him in eating these nuts, he has always an abundance of food. Mr Hooker called this species the Microglossum aterrimum.

Soon afterwards, a native brought us a king-fisher with an enormously long tail, such as no other king-fisher possesses. It was the racket-tailed king-fisher. It had been caught sleeping in the hollow of the rocky banks of a neighbouring stream. It had a red bill, and Mr Hooker observed that he doubted whether it lived upon fish, for, from the earth clinging to its beak, he suspected rather that it preys on insects and minute shells which it picks up in the forests. Its shape was very graceful, the plumage being of a brilliant blue and white.

We caught also another cuscus, which Mr Hooker showed us was of the marsupial order; that is, having a pouch in which it carries its young, as does the kangaroo. There are several other marsupial animals in these islands, such as are found also in Australia and New Guinea, where alone they exist, some as small as mice. Though no mice exist in those regions, these little animals are about as mischievous—entering into houses, and eating their way through all sorts of materials, just in the manner that mice do. I cannot attempt to describe the numerous other birds which we shot or caught. Among them were many of brilliant plumage—pigeons, little parroquets, and numerous other small birds, similar to those found in Australia and New Guinea.

We spent three or four days in a native house, at which, at a rental of a few yards of cloth, some tobacco, and one or two other articles, we engaged rooms. It was raised on a platform seven feet high on posts; the walls were about four feet more, with a high pitched roof. The floor was composed of split bamboo, and a part of the sloping roof could be lifted and propped up, so as to admit light and air. Our apartments—for I have dignified them by that name—were divided from the rest of the house by a thatched partition. At one end of it was a cooking-place, with a clay floor, and shells for crockery. Several families occupied the other parts of the house, which was very extensive. There were generally half-a-dozen or more visitors in addition to the families. They led very easy idle lives, only working when it was absolutely necessary for the sake of obtaining food; and from morning till night the people were laughing, shouting, and talking without cessation. Such screams of laughter, such loud shouts—the women and children vying with the men—I have never elsewhere heard. They seemed to live very well, as the men and boys are capital archers, and never went out without their bows and arrows. With these they shot all sorts of birds, and sometimes kangaroos and pigs. Besides this, they had a variety of vegetables, although they grew no rice nor the cocoa-nut tree. They had plantains, yams, and, above all, the sugar-cane. They were continually eating it. It grows on the black vegetable soil to a great height and thickness. At all times of the day we found the people eating it, generally four or five together, each one with a yard of cane in one hand, and a knife in the other, and a basket between their legs. There they sat paring away at it, chewing, and throwing the refuse into the basket.

Mr Hooker was highly pleased with the collection of birds and insects which he had made. Engaging the services of two more natives to carry them, we returned to the boat, in which, in the course of a day’s sail, we reached the Dugong.

Chapter Nineteen.

Voyage continued.

Sailing from Dobbo, a number of our mop-headed friends accompanied us to sea in their long canoes—curious, savage-looking boats, the bow and stern rising up six or seven feet high, decorated with shells and waving plumes of cassowary’s feathers. They were all talking, laughing, and shouting at once, and when they at length, after receiving a few farewell presents, bid us good-bye, we felt as if we had passed out of a tempest of noise into a calm, so apparently deep was the silence which reigned round us. In two days, passing the Key Islands, the inhabitants of which are very much like those of Aru, we arrived in sight of a lofty volcano, from the summit of which wreaths of white smoke were even then ascending. On approaching more closely, we saw that there were two other mountains near it, clothed with vegetation to their very summits. A fair breeze enabled us to enter the land-locked harbour of Banda. The water below our keel was so transparent, that we could see, at a depth of seven or eight fathoms, the smallest objects on the sand, and watch the living corals at work. We sailed on through narrow channels, having on one side lofty cliffs rising out of the sea.

Besides three large islands, there are several others, which form what are known as the Banda group. The largest is Lontar, or Great Banda—a crescent-shaped island, about six miles long and a mile and a half wide. Within the circle of which this island and two others joined to it form an arc, lie three more, the highest and most remarkable of which is the Grunong Api, or the Burning Mountain. It is an ever active volcano, about two thousand three hundred feet in height. We passed close under its base, and looking up, saw cloud-like masses of steam and sulphureous acid gas rising from its summit. On the Lontar shore rose up perpendicular crags from two to three hundred feet high, but everywhere covered with the most luxuriant vegetation, the trees and shrubs having their roots in the crevices, and hanging down in broad sheets of the brightest green. As we sailed on we perceived lofty palms rising amid the matted mass of vegetation, and from their crests hung long feathered leaves, silently and gracefully oscillating in the light air which filled our sails.

On the top of one of the heights appeared the dazzling white walls of Fort Belgica, with another fort below it; and along the shore on every hand extended the chief village, called Neira, with rows of wide-spreading trees shading the streets and bordering the bay. Opposite the village were a number of prows from Ceram—strange-looking vessels, high at the stem and low at the bow, having, instead of a single mast, a tall tripod, which can be raised and lowered at pleasure. There was a number of other craft—Bugis traders, mostly square topsail schooners, but ill-fitted apparently to contend with the storms which occasionally rage in those seas. Among the most beautiful trees was the lontar or palmyra palm—Borassus flabelliformis. Mr Hooker told us that its leaves were formerly used as parchment all over the archipelago before the Chinese introduced paper. In some places, even at the present time, it is used for that purpose. In every direction we could see spreading out over the island a continuous forest of nutmeg-trees, shaded by the lofty kanary-trees. The nutmeg-tree is from twenty to five-and-twenty feet high, though sometimes its lofty sprays are fifty feet high. A foot above the ground the trunk is from eight to ten inches in diameter. The fruit before it is quite ripe greatly resembles a peach. This, however, is only a fleshy outer rind—epicarp—which, as it ripens, opens into two equal parts, when within is seen a spherical polished nut, surrounding an aril, the mace, which is of a bright yellow colour. No fruit can then surpass it in beauty. The people who pick it use a small basket at the end of a long bamboo, into which it drops as they hook it off. The outer part, which we should call the fruit, being removed, the mace is carefully taken off, and dried on large shallow bamboo baskets in the sun. Its bright colour now changes to a dark yellow. The black part seen within the vermilion mace is a shell, and inside this is the nutmeg. When the mace is removed, the nuts are spread out on shallow trays of open basket-work in a drying-room. A slow fire is made beneath the floor, where the nuts remain for three months. By this time the nutmeg has shrunk so much that it rattles in its shell. The shell is then broken, and the nutmegs are sorted and packed in casks for shipment.

We took a stroll with Mr Hooker through the beautiful groves of nutmeg-trees, which were heavily laden with fruit. It is picked twice in the year, though some is obtained throughout the whole year. A beautiful carpet of green grass is spread out beneath the trees, while high above them tower the lofty kanary-trees, which stretch out their gnarled arms as if to defend their more tender sisters committed to their charge. At a distance, indeed, the nutmeg-trees are completely hidden from view by the kanary-trees. The roots of these latter are very curious, looking like enormous snakes with their heads caught in the trunk of the tree. As we strolled through the forest, sheltered from the direct rays of the sun by the thick foliage, we caught distant views of the blue ocean sparkling in the sunlight, the white surf breaking in masses of foam on the rocks beneath us, while at a distance appeared the varied forms of the other islands.

These groves of nutmegs are divided into what are called parks, belonging to different proprietors, who are known as perkeniers. By far the greater proportion of nutmegs used throughout the world are grown on these small islands, though wild nutmegs are found in New Guinea and in a few other places. As the nutmeg is among the most beautiful of fruits, so are the trees superior to almost any other cultivated plant. They are well-shaped, and have glossy leaves, bearing small yellowish flowers. On examining the fruit, we compared it in size and colour to a peach, only rather more oval. It is of a tough fleshy consistency till it becomes ripe, when, as I have before said, it splits open and shows a dark brown nut within covered with the crimson mace. We saw a most beautiful bird flying among the trees; it was the Banda pigeon, which feeds upon the nutmeg fruit. It digests the mace, but casts up the nut with its seed uninjured. By this means it has undoubtedly carried the seed to all parts of the group, and perhaps to other islands in the neighbourhood. In one part of Lontar we heard that the mace, instead of being red, is white—probably owing to some peculiarity of the soil. The deer and pig are found in the islands, and also a species of cuscus.

A proprietor, to whom Mr Hooker had an introduction, invited us to climb the burning mountain; but after considering the matter, our friend declined the honour, from hearing that the ascent was very difficult and dangerous, and that we should gain very little more knowledge about it than we should by gazing up at it from the base.

While sleeping on shore, the house we occupied was one night so shaken that we thought it would fall about our heads; but the inhabitants seemed to take it as a thing of course, and we heard that nearly every month an earthquake occurs. Several most disastrous eruptions of the mountain have taken place, causing great destruction of life and havoc among the plantations.

The Portuguese were the first Europeans who took possession of the Bandas. They were driven out by the Dutch, who exterminated the aboriginal inhabitants, and then had to import slaves to cultivate the plantations. Since slavery was abolished by Holland, convicts have been sent there for the purpose; and now, people from various neighbouring regions have been collected to perform the part of labourers. The Bandas are not properly included in the Moluccas. The cultivation of the clove-tree is now chiefly confined to Amboyna, and the surrounding islands, to which we were now bound.

A day’s sail took us off Amboyna, the capital of the Moluccas. It is one of the oldest European settlements in the East. The island is divided into two parts by the sea, a narrow sandy isthmus alone joining them. We sailed up the western inlet, the shores of which were lined by groves of cocoa-nut palm-trees, furnishing food and shade to the natives who dwell in the rude huts beneath them. We came to an anchor off the town of Amboyna. In few places we visited was the forest vegetation more luxuriant or beautiful than on this island. Ferns and palms of graceful forms were seen everywhere; climbing ratans formed entangled festoons pendent from every forest tree; while fine crimson lories and brush-tongued turkeys, also of a bright crimson colour, flew in and out amidst the foliage, forming a magnificent sight, especially when a flock of the former settled down on some flowering tree, the nectar from which the lories delight to suck. Amboyna is a large city for the East, containing 14,000 people, about 8000 of whom are Europeans, with half that number, perhaps, of Chinese and Arabs. Our great wish was to see a clove plantation in full bearing. We found, however, that the proprietors had discovered that there were more profitable means of employing their ground and labour, and that cacao plantations were superseding them.

The two young ladies, with Frau Ursula, were able to accompany us. Our road lay through a grove of palm-trees, and wound up a hill, till we reached the plantations of young cacao-trees. They were covered with long red cucumber-like fruit. The plants had been brought here from Madagascar, where it was first discovered by the Spaniards. They are great consumers of it in various forms. Chocolate comes from the Spanish chocolate, which is composed of cacao pounded with Indian corn, to which honey is sometimes added. The sugar-cane was also introduced, as sugar assists in neutralising the bitter qualities of the cacao. I need scarcely point out the difference between the cacao—often written cocoa—plant and fruit, from which the now much used beverage is made, and the lofty cocoa-nut palms with their well-known nuts full of juice. In the woods we saw numbers of green parrots, which uttered their shrill deafening screams as they darted to and fro through the thick foliage.

Proceeding again along the beach, my sister and Grace, feeling thirsty, asked for a draught of water, but neither stream nor fountain was in sight. When one of our attendants heard what was inquired for, “Stop,” he said, “you shall have it.” Directly afterwards, we saw him climb up a cocoa-nut palm above our heads, whence he cut off some of the clusters of large green fruit. Immediately descending, he struck off the end with a hatchet, and presented each of us with a goblet of the freshest and most sparkling water I ever tasted. We had before only found the more mature fruit, after the liquid has assumed a milk-like appearance.

A short way on, we saw the hill-side covered with myrtle-like trees, and found that they were plantations of clove-trees. The clove-tree belongs to the order of myrtles. The trunks of the full-grown trees were about twelve inches in diameter. Their topmost branches were from forty to fifty feet from the ground. However, we found some very small ones, fully loaded with fruit. The clove is the flower bud, and it grows in clusters at the end of the twigs. Our guide told us that the annual yield of a good tree is about four pounds and a half. When the buds are young, they are nearly white; when more mature, they change to a light green, and ultimately to a bright red. They are then picked by the hand, or beaten off with bamboos, on cloths spread under the trees. They are simply dried in the sun for use, when their colour changes from red to black. The leaves, the bark, and young twigs, have also a peculiar aroma. It grows best on the high hillsides, on a volcanic soil, or a loose sandy loam. Curiously enough, although cloves are used in all parts of the world, the inhabitants of these islands do not eat them. They employ them in making models of their prows and bamboo huts, by running a small wire through them before they are dried. I remember seeing a number of these models in the Great Exhibition in England, many of them of very elaborate construction. When cloves were first introduced into England, thirty shillings per pound was paid for them. They are now cultivated in several other places, and consequently their value in the Spice Islands has greatly fallen.

As we returned home in the evening, we passed along a pathway lined by rows of pine-apples, which had, like the cocoa-nut trees, been brought from Tropical America. We also saw creatures leaping from branch to branch. The servants caught some, when we found them to be flying dragons; not such as Saint George fought with, but small lizards known as the Draco volans. They were provided with broad folds in the skin, along each side of the body, which enabled them not really to fly, but, as a parachute would do, to sustain them in the air while they leap from branch to branch.

I was ahead of our party when I heard a loud hammering or tapping, and creeping near, I saw a cocoa-nut, which had just fallen from a tree, and an enormous crab working away at it. I stopped to watch him. He had torn off the dry husk which covered the latter with his powerful claws, just at the point where the three black scars are found marked. He was now breaking the shell by hammering with one of his heavy claws. As soon as this was done, he began to pick out the rich food, by means of his pincer-like claws. Our servants as they came up chased and caught him, tying up his claws, and saying that we should find it, when cooked, one of the greatest delicacies in the place.

We stopped for the night at the house of Mr Hooker’s friend, a little outside the town. Our beds were placed in a verandah, merely covered with mats at night; our heads only guarded by mosquito curtains, though we could hear the venomous insects buzzing outside. As I put my head on the pillow before going to sleep, the sound of the low cooing of doves came up out of the forest, while the tree frogs piped out their shrill notes.

Next day, when pulling along the narrow channel of the beautiful harbour on our return to the brig, we gazed down over the side with astonishment at the lovely spectacle the bottom of the sea afforded. It was thickly covered with a mass of corals, actiniae, and other productions of the ocean, of vast dimensions, of every possible form, and of the most brilliant colours. In some places the depth, Mr Hooker said, was fifty feet, and in others twenty, for the bottom was very uneven. Here appeared some deep chasm, here a hill rose up, there a valley was seen, here rocks of every possible shape, the whole covered with a forest of living vegetables, as I may call them.

“See, see!” cried Emily; “there swims a beautiful fish; there, another; and there, another. Some are red; there is a yellow one; there is one spotted and banded; there is another striped in the most curious manner. See how leisurely they swim, as if admiring the beauty of their country!”

“Look there! What is that floating by us?” exclaimed Grace; “what a lovely orange mass!”

“See, there is another, of a beautiful rose colour!” said Emily.

The creatures the girls were admiring were medusae, beautifully transparent, which were floating along near the surface. We entreated that the crew might stop rowing, that we might admire them at our leisure; indeed, we could have gazed at the scene all day long, but I am very sure, were I to make the attempt, I could not do justice to its surpassing beauty and interest. There may be coral beds of equal beauty, but in few places is the water so transparent as in the harbour of Amboyna; while, from being sheltered from the violence of storms, there are probably a larger number of marine productions, shells, and fishes collected in it, than in almost any other spot. While we were still gazing down into the ocean depths, a strange rumbling noise came over the land. The trees seemed to rock from side to side, the buildings shook, the frightened birds flew off from the shore, the land seemed to rise and fall, and people were seen flying from their houses, and rushing to their boats; others hurried away into the open country.

“An earthquake!” exclaimed Mr Hooker. “They are pretty well accustomed to it, though, and I trust no real damage may be done. However, should it be more severe than usual, we will be ready to take off any poor people who may wish to find refuge at sea.”

In a few seconds, however, all was quite quiet. The people returned on shore, and some were seen hurrying back to buildings which had been the most shaken, either to rescue friends who had been left behind, or to carry off their household furniture, in case another shock should occur, and bring their houses to the ground.

Leaving this beautiful, though unstable island, we stood away to the south-west, Mr Hooker purposing to visit a number of islands on our passage to Macassar, after which he intended standing across to Java, or perhaps visiting the south of Borneo before proceeding on to Singapore.

Chapter Twenty.

A modern Crusoe’s island.

Macassar, at the south-west end of Celebes, had been visited; a Dutch town, very neat and clean, having covered drains down the streets which carry away all impurities. On one side along the shore, forming a straight street a mile in length, are a number of shops, warehouses, and native bazaars; on the other, two shorter streets form the old Dutch town, with most of the private houses of the Europeans. It is enclosed by gates, with a fort at the southern end. Round the town extend rice-fields, in the rainy season presenting a mass of the most vivid green. Beyond, are numerous native villages embosomed in fruit-trees.

We were occasionally on shore, and saw many objects of interest, but Mr Hooker made a long excursion into the interior, of which he gave us an account on his return. We caught sight of two of the animals peculiar to Celebes. One of them was a curious baboon-like monkey, about the size of a spaniel, and of a jet-black colour. It had the projecting dog-like muzzle and overhanging brows of a baboon, with red callosities, and a scarcely visible fleshy tail, about an inch long. A large band of them visited the garden of the merchant at whose house we were stopping, and were busily employed in carrying off the fruit, when they were disturbed by the servants, who rushed out with guns and sticks to drive them off.

Next day we started with our friend into the neighbouring forest, in chase of the babirusa or pig-deer. After a long search, we came up with one, to which, the dogs gave chase; and it being brought to bay, was killed. It resembled a pig in general appearance, but had long slender legs and curved tusks like horns. Those of the lower jaw are very long and sharp, but the upper ones, instead of growing downwards as those of a boar generally do, curve upwards out of bony sockets through the skin on each side of the snout till they meet the eyes. Those of the creature we killed, which was an old one, were nearly ten inches in length. Our Dutch friend stated that they were so formed to guard its eyes from the thorns and spines which it meets with whilst searching for fallen fruits among the thickets of ratan and other spiny plants. Mr Hooker, however, said he thought they had once been of use to the animal in digging, but its mode of life having been somewhat changed, they had grown up into their present curious form. Instead of digging for food with its snout as other pigs do, it feeds on fallen fruits from various trees. We saw also a number of butterflies, which Mr Hooker said were peculiar to Celebes. Besides the babirusa, herds of wild pigs of large size abound in the northern forests, and numerous jungle-fowl, hornbills, and great fruit-pigeons. Buffaloes are generally employed on the farms, and we drank buffalo milk, which was brought into the house in bamboo buckets. It was as thick as cream and in order to keep it fluid during the day it was diluted with water.

Among the many curious trees we saw, was the sugar-palm, from which the usual beverage of the country is made—called sagueir. It is as strong as ordinary beer. The sugar makes a very nice sweetmeat, and Mr Hooker said it put him very much in mind of the North American maple sugar.

We were introduced also to a very curious animal, somewhat smaller than a Shetland cow, called the sapi-utan. It has long straight horns, which are ringed at the base and slope backwards over the neck. We were told that it inhabits the mountains, and is never found where deer exist. There seems a doubt whether it should be classed with the ox, buffalo, or antelope. The head is black, with a white mark over each eye, one on the cheek, and another on the throat. We saw also a couple of maleos, a species of brush-turkey, allied to the megapodi or mound-making birds which we had met with in our island. They live also in the northern part of Celebes, and come down to the shore in order to lay their eggs in the black, hot, volcanic sand. It is a handsome bird, the plumage glossy black and rosy white, with a helmeted head, and elevated tail. Its walk is peculiarly stately. The sexes are very much alike. Two or more birds will come down, and the female deposits a single egg in a hole which the male assists her in making, about a foot deep in the sand, and having covered it up, returns to the forest. At the end of ten days or so she comes to the same spot and lays another egg. Each can lay, it is said, six or eight eggs during the season. Frequently two or three hens deposit their eggs in the same hole. The colour of the shell is a pale brick-red. The eggs being thus deposited, the parents take no further care of their offspring. The young birds, after breaking their shell, work their way up through the sand, just as the young megapodi do, and run off at once to the forest. A friend of Mr Hooker’s presented him with some, which had been carefully covered up, and had just arrived. We took them on board the brig. The next morning, when far out of sight of land, we heard a strange noise in the cabin, and looking in, great was our surprise to see a covey of little birds flying right across it. They had been hatched during the night, and following the instincts of their nature, were making their way, as they supposed, to their future forest home. We fed them on little bits of chopped fruit, and such things as Mr Hooker thought would suit their appetites.

“But what can induce the parents thus to leave their eggs?” asked Emily. “I thought it was the nature of creatures to look after their young.”

“If it was for their benefit, so it would have been,” he answered; “but I suspect that these large birds, requiring a considerable amount of food, which consists entirely of fallen fruits, could only find it by roaming over a wide extent of country. If, therefore, a large number came down to this particular beach, which seems the only one fit for hatching them during the breeding season, they would perish for want of food. Providence, therefore, has so arranged that they should return to the districts where they can find their food; whilst the young ones, not requiring so much, are able to make their way as their strength will allow in the same direction.”

We had a full-grown stuffed maleo on board. Its claws were sharp and straight, and very different from those of the megapodi. The toes, however, were strongly webbed at the base; the leg rather long, forming a powerful instrument for scratching away the loose sand, which those who have watched them say they throw up in a complete shower when digging their holes.

We had been standing on for some time to the west, a cast of the lead showing us that we were in fifty fathoms—the shallow sea which separates Borneo from Java and Sumatra. Our compass had never been very trustworthy. An injury it had received had still further put it out of order, while thick cloudy weather had prevented us from taking an observation. Mr Hooker had also for some days been unwell. He had caught a fever while we were at Macassar, the effects of which he began to feel directly he came on board, and we were now very anxious about him. Several of the men also had been ill for some time before we reached Macassar. Two of them died. I will not stop to describe the particulars of their funeral. We felt very sad as we committed them to their ocean grave. Mr Hooker, who had studied medicine, was too ill to visit the rest. He, however, got Mr Thudicumb and I to describe their symptoms as far as we were able, and sent the medicine accordingly. As soon as he was able to move he insisted upon being carried forward to see the men, when, somewhat altering his treatment of them, they appeared to be getting better.

I was on deck one day, and Roger Trew was aloft, when he shouted out, “Land ahead!” Not knowing exactly our position, we were glad that it had been seen during the day. I ran aloft, and after a time I could distinguish the land stretching away to the north and south, where it seemed to terminate. We therefore concluded that it was an island. This became a certainty as we stood on, as no land could be distinguished beyond the two distant points we had discovered. We were rather nearest the north end, and Mr Thudicumb determined therefore to go round it. It was a land of dense forest, with here and there mountainous points; high bold capes standing out into the ocean, affording every possible variety of scenery.

“Why, there must be a fort somewhere thereabouts,” observed Mr Thudicumb, who had been examining it through his glass. “I see a flag flying!”

There, sure enough, as we drew nearer, we discovered on the summit of a bold rock, standing out into the sea, a flagstaff with a large flag flying from it. What the flag was, we could not well make out, from its somewhat battered condition. As we stood on, a bay opened out, the headland I have spoken of forming the westernmost point. Mr Thudicumb considered that it would afford sufficient shelter to us should we bring up. He was anxious to do this, that we might go ashore and ascertain whether any Europeans were living there.

“Perhaps some people have been cast away,” he observed, “and have hoisted the flag as a signal to any passers-by.”

Mr Hooker was still too weak to go ashore without inconvenience. Mr Thudicumb therefore ordered Dick Tarbox, myself, Roger Trew, and three others, to go in the boat, well armed with muskets and pistols, and to ascertain the state of the case.

“Now, take care,” said Mr Thudicumb, “that you are not led into an ambush. Some of these islands are the dens of pirates, or savages, who are no better, and still more treacherous. Keep a bright look-out on either side as you advance, and see that you are able to get back to the boat without any difficulty. If there is an European there, he is sure to come down when he sees the boat pull in; so if you find no one at first, you must be doubly careful not to be caught in a trap.”

Emily and Grace stood at the gangway as we pulled off.

“Oh, do take care, Walter, that those horrid savages do not get hold of you again!” exclaimed Emily.

“Pray, do! pray, do!” added Grace.

“Yes, Mynheer Walter, take care dat de savages don’t eat you up; you now grow so fat and big, you fine large morsel,” exclaimed Frau Ursula, who had no fear whatever of savages or pirates, being in most instances a very dauntless and fearless person.

I was glad she said this, as it assisted to quell the anxiety of Emily and Grace. The brig lay about a quarter of a mile from the beach, Mr Thudicumb being afraid to stand in nearer because of the reefs, of which there appeared to be several under water, their dark heads projecting here and there from the shore. I waved my cap and held up my musket as we pulled in, to show them that we were in good spirits, and prepared to make a bold fight, if it was necessary; though I must say I had no expectations of meeting either savages or pirates.

The flag, though tattered and patched, looked very like an English ensign with the jack torn out of it.

“Depend upon it, some Englishman is there,” observed Tarbox. “What object could any pirates or savages have in flying a flag from that point?”

We found the shore lined with black volcanic rocks, among which there was some difficulty in landing. However, at length we discovered a place between two ledges, into which we ran the boat. One of the men remained to take charge of her, while the rest of us, landing, walked up the beach. We soon came to the thick jungle, in which we could find no opening. We therefore continued along the shore towards the point where the flag was flying. Having gone some way, we found an opening on our right. The underwood and branches had evidently been cut away by an axe, and seemed to lead from the flagstaff rock towards some place in the interior. Dick Tarbox leading the way, we advanced along the path, keeping a look-out among the trunks of the trees on every side, lest any treacherous enemies might be lurking there. The ground rose somewhat. At length we emerged into the open space, where there were signs of rude cultivation; and further on appeared a cottage raised on poles about three feet from the ground, very similar to the building we had put up in our island, but considerably larger. This, we concluded, must be the habitation of the people who had erected the flagstaff. As we got nearer to it, we were saluted by the loud voices of birds—a number of the numerous tribes found in these regions. Such screeching, crying, cooing, shrieking, and chattering, I had never before heard; while from wooden cages on every side, or from under small huts of curious construction, came forth the cries of all sorts of animals. Still, no one appeared. Presently we heard a shot at a little distance, and discovered a path leading to where it came from. Tarbox fired as a signal, being sure, from what we saw in the cottage, that its occupant was not likely to be evilly disposed towards us. As we went on, we saw, coming through the open glade before us, a tall figure, with a gun in his hand, followed by another carrying a basket, and several birds slung over his shoulders.

“A veritable Robinson Crusoe!” I exclaimed.

The figure answered, indeed, in every respect, the description I had seen of that far-famed adventurer. There was the pointed, palm-leaf hat; the rough skin leggings; a belt round the waist, with hunting-knife and all sorts of things stuck in it; boots of skin; and a gun in his hand (though, I suspect, Robinson Crusoe must have used a bow and arrow—at all events, he must have done so when his powder was expended). The man behind him, too, was in all respects like his man Friday; fully as dark-skinned, though perhaps with rather more clothing than Friday was accustomed to wear, as his dress was similar to that of the leading figure.

“Hilloa, my friends! where do you come from?” he exclaimed, in a loud, cheery voice. “What! have you found me out at last?”

“Why, friend, we saw a flag flying from the point out there, and took it for granted that somebody or other was here on shore wanting to be taken off; and if you wish to come with us, we have directions to take you on board our brig, which lies in the bay out there.”

“Yes, indeed, I do; for I have been waiting here long enough almost to have lost all account of time,” answered the tall man. “I have a pretty large family, however; and unless your brig is a good-sized one, I doubt whether you can carry us all.”

“What! have you got a wife and children living here?” asked Tarbox. “We saw nothing of them as we came along.”

“No, no, no!” answered the stranger; “I have no wife; and as for my children, I cannot say that you would consider them as such. Probably, however, you heard the voices of my family as you passed my house.”

“Ho, ho! all those birds and beasts, you mean, friend!” said Tarbox. “Well, as to that, as we have a gentleman on board, the owner of the brig, who has a fancy that way, I do not think he will refuse to have as many as the craft will hold. But it will take some little time, I suspect, to build houses for them; for I suppose they are not tame enough to be allowed to run at liberty about the decks?”

“Not exactly,” answered the stranger. “Some of them have rather quarrelsome dispositions, and they would be apt to fall out with each other, and perhaps with the crew. However, a considerable number are turned into mummies, though they fill somewhat large cages altogether; and as I have spent so much of my time in collecting them, I have no intention of leaving them behind. If you can take them, I will go with you; but if not, I must get you to send another vessel to bring me off. The craft which brought me here must either have been lost in a typhoon or destroyed by pirates, for she did not return at the time appointed; and after waiting month after month, and year after year, I almost gave up all hopes of again seeing a civilised man. I have had visitors, to be sure, on the island; but I did not like their looks, as I thought they were more likely to stick their krisses into me than to carry me away to a civilised place; and therefore I had to keep out of sight. Still, at last I began to regret not being able to exhibit my treasures to my fellow-men capable of appreciating them; and so I rigged that flagstaff you saw, and hoisted a flag as a signal to any passing vessel to put in here. However, most craft, I suppose, keep either along further to the southward, or else to the north of this island; and though I have seen a few passing in the horizon, none have come near enough to distinguish my signal.”

From the way the stranger spoke, I saw at once that he was a man of superior education, in spite of his strange costume.

“Perhaps, sir,” I said, “you would like to come on board and see the owner, Mr Hooker. I am sure he would be delighted to do what he can to assist you.”

“Hooker!” he exclaimed. “Hooker, did you say, young man? Of course I will. If he is the Hooker I know—and from what you say about him, I have little doubt about the matter—I shall be delighted to see him; and I am very sure he will do all he can to assist me.—Stay, however,” he said. “If you will wait a little while, I will accompany you. I must, however, first feed my family, as I may be absent for some time, and they are not accustomed to go without their provisions.”

The noise as we passed the house had been considerable. As the stranger approached it, however, the cries with which his feathered and four-footed friends greeted him were almost deafening. I might have added, no-footed friends, for he had huge pythons, and snakes of all sorts;—tigers, and other wild beasts; and birds, from long-legged storks down to the smallest of the feathered tribes. He and his man Friday were occupied some time in feeding all these numerous creatures, according to their respective wants. They all appeared to know him, and acknowledge him as their master; and he must have employed considerable time in taming many of them. I will describe them by-and-by.

At length the operation of feeding them was over, and he expressed himself ready to accompany us to the boat. He addressed a few words to his man, Tanda, he called him, adding, as he walked away,—“Don’t fear, my lad; I am not going to desert you.—He does not understand that, by the by;” and, turning round again, he spoke to the man in a strange language. He put up his hand to look at the brig. “Well,” he said, as he stepped into the boat, “I scarcely expected ever to see a European vessel come near this island.”

All hands able to appear on deck were collected at the gangway to gaze at us as we approached. They certainly did regard our companion with looks of astonishment as he stepped up the side.

“Mr Hooker is below, sir,” I said. “I will let him know that you are here.”

I ran down into the cabin, eager to give the intelligence to my friend.

“He did not give his name,” I answered; “but he said he was an old friend of yours.”

“An old friend of mine out here? Can it possibly be—and yet I think it must. Beg him to come down. Oh! how I wish I was able to go on shore and help him to get off his valuables! Strange! that is strange!” I heard him say as I left the cabin.

I found the stranger in conversation with Emily and Grace, with whom he seemed greatly interested. He was patting Emily’s cheek, and looking with an inquiring glance into her face, when I appeared.

Mr Hooker endeavoured to rise from his chair when the stranger entered.

“Is it possible?” he exclaimed, holding out both his hands.

“Hooker,” exclaimed the stranger, “I know you!”

“And Sedgwick,” answered the other, “in your somewhat out-of-the-way garb, I know you still, my friend—my master in science—my instructor in knowledge—”

The two friends eagerly shook hands, the stranger sinking down into a chair, and looking eagerly into Mr Hooker’s face.

“You will recover, never fear—you will recover,” he exclaimed. “You have had a touch of jungle fever; and if you can get on shore for a few days, and live in the open air, instead of in this confined cabin, you will quickly pick up your strength. But, Hooker, I had no idea you were married. Are these young people on board your children? and the lady on deck there, is she your wife?”

“No, no, no,” answered Mr Hooker. “The old Dutchwoman is the young girls’ governante. And it is extraordinary! Can you think who those children are?”

“Had I not seen the girl I might have been puzzled; for I cannot conjecture what has brought them out here,” and he turned round and looked at me. “Yes; I recognise his father too.—Is your father out in these parts?” he asked.

“No, sir,” I answered. “They are both dead.”

“Both dead, did you say? Your mother dead? For her sake I chiefly longed to return to England; and she gone, boy! Do you know who I am? I am your uncle! Did you ever hear of your uncle, Tom Sedgwick, the naturalist?”

“Indeed I have,” I answered. “And I heard that he had gone away, long ago, to the Eastern Seas, and was supposed to have lost his life.”

“That was but natural enough, as I did not appear,” answered Mr Sedgwick. “But it is very wonderful that you should have come to the very place where I have been so long living apart from my fellow-creatures. And your sister, what is her name?”

I told him.

“And the other little girl, is she a relation? for I have no difficulty in distinguishing which is my niece.”

“No; she is Captain Davenport’s daughter,” I answered.

“A nice, pretty little girl. But Emily—I must see Emily again.”

I ran to call her. She came down trembling; for she had often heard our mother speak of our uncle, and for her sake had longed to see him. Mr Sedgwick pressed her fondly in his arms.

“Yes, you are the very image of your mother,” he said, looking in her face again and again.

Thus, for some time, we sat talking of the past, rather than the present.

“Well, Hooker!” he exclaimed at last, “I wish you were on shore. We must see how you are by to-morrow or next day; and, in the meantime, we must get these young people and their worthy nurse to come to my house and see my wonders. I can easily manage to find accommodation for them; for I built it originally in the expectation of having some companions. Walter, you will accompany them, as I suppose, Hooker, you can spare him?”

“I have no doubt my skipper can do without him,” answered Mr Hooker; “though, I can tell you, he is of no little importance on board, as he acts the part of mate; and a very good seaman he is, too, for his age, and the time he has been at sea.”

I asked Mr Hooker if Oliver could accompany us, as I knew he could be spared. “And Merlin too. The old fellow will like a run on shore; and you will let him come also,” I said, turning to my uncle.

“He looks too wise an animal to quarrel with any of my friends,” he observed; “and I shall be very glad to see him.”

Frau Ursula and the young ladies quickly got ready a few things to take on shore. Evening was approaching. However, the old friends had a good deal to talk about before we shoved off. In a short time, we were pretty well at our ease with Mr Sedgwick; and the girls looked forward with delight to the wonders they hoped to see on the island.

We landed at a rather more convenient spot, which Mr Sedgwick pointed out. Roger Trew, who had leave to remain on shore, assisted in carrying up the beds for the ladies; while Oliver and I took charge of the other articles they required. The boat then pulled back to the brig. The moment Merlin landed he scampered off along the shore, bounding and gambolling just like a young dog, so delighted did he appear to be able to stretch his legs. He then came up to me, and licking my hand, followed close at my heels.

“I do not quite like the look of the weather,” observed Mr Sedgwick, glancing back at the sea. “I wish I had told them on board the brig to get out another anchor; or it might have been safer, to be sure, to stand out into the offing. Stay; there will be no harm in giving them a caution.”

He went back to the beach and hailed; but the boat was already at a considerable distance, and Tarbox did not appear to hear him.

“Well, I hope it is all right,” he observed. “I have often seen this weather, and nothing has come of it. At the same time, it generally looks like this just before a heavy gale; and this open bay is not a good place for a vessel to be caught in when it blows hard.”

Chapter Twenty One.

Sedgwick Island and its wonders.

Our uncle introduced us to his house with evident pride. He and his man Tanda had bestowed a great deal of pains on it. It was constructed entirely after the Malay fashion—of wood, bamboo, and matting, though raised higher off the ground than the Malays are accustomed to build theirs. The floors were of split bamboo, sufficiently strong to bear a person’s weight, and yet giving a pleasant spring as we passed over them. They were kept in their place by long strips of ratan, passed transversely between them, much in the way of a cane-bottom chair. Over these mats were spread—not so neatly made, perhaps, as those employed by the wealthy Malays, but still very well done. The walls were made of the palm-leaves which I have before described, fixed in panels, very neat and pleasing to the eye, and perfectly weather-tight. The roof was high pitched, and had broad overhanging eaves, giving it very much the appearance of a Swiss cottage. A broad verandah ran round each side of the house, the rooms opening into it. They were divided from each other by thick mats stretched from the ceiling to the floor, and could be lifted up at pleasure to allow the air to circulate in every direction. It would have been impossible to build with the materials at hand an abode better suited to the purpose.

“Here, Frau, you and your young ladies shall occupy these two apartments,” said my uncle to Frau Ursula, who stood smiling from ear to ear at the polite way in which he addressed her. “You shall have bedsteads brought in directly; and I must leave you to arrange them, while Tanda and I get supper ready. The lads here and the sailor will no doubt assist us.”

Roger Trew, who had ascended the ladder with his bundle of bedding, deposited it in the room my uncle pointed out, and forthwith commenced unlashing it; and knowing that he would prove a better assistant to the dame than Oliver and I should, we accompanied my uncle to what he called his cooking-shed, at the back of the house. Here he had brought water from a spring in the forest, and had made a drain towards the sea to carry off the refuse. He had a variety of fish, flesh, and fowl in his larder, which was in a cool place at the back of the house.

I scarcely know what I shall describe first. The fruit was the most attractive. There was the delicious mangostin—of a spherical form. The outer part is a thick rough covering, and it has a white opaque centre, an inch or more in diameter. Each of the four or five parts into which it is divided, contains a small seed. The white part is what is eaten. It has a slightly sweet taste, and a rich yet delicate and peculiar flavour, which it is impossible to describe. Then there was the rambutan—a globular fruit, an inch and a half in diameter. The rind is of a light red, adorned with coarse scattered bristles. Within, there is a semi-transparent pulp, of a slightly acid taste. Next there was the elliptical shaped mango, containing a small stone of the same form. The interior, when the tough outer skin was removed, consisted of a soft, pulpy, fibrous mass, of a bright yellow. Another fruit appeared, in the form of long clusters, about the size of a small bird’s egg. It was the duku. The outer coating was thin and leathery, and of a dull yellow. In the inside were several long seeds, surrounded by a transparent pulp, of a sweet and pleasantly acid taste. The durian, however, my uncle told us, was among the most esteemed of all the fruits in that region. It is spherical in form, six or eight inches in diameter, and generally covered with many tubercles. The interior is divided into several parts. On breaking the shell, we found in each division a seed as large as a chestnut, surrounded by a pale yellow substance, of the consistency of thick cream; but the odour was enough at first to make me have no wish to eat it. It seemed to me like putrid animal matter, and peculiarly strong.

“You do not like the odour, Walter,” observed my uncle. “Nor did I at first, but I have now become so fond of the fruit, that I prefer it to any other. But, after all, these fruits are not to be compared to those of a tree growing just outside, at the back of my house—the far-famed bread-fruit tree. Here, Tanda,” and he spoke a few words to him. “Look there, do you see it?”

It was a tree upwards of forty feet high, with enormous sharply lobed leaves, some of which were one foot wide and one and a half long. The fruit which Tanda picked was of the form and size of a melon, and attached by its stem directly to the trunk.

“We must cut some, for it is the chief vegetable I have in season,” said my uncle, cutting it in slices, and handing it to Tanda to fry. “We have some molasses to eat with it, produced from the sap of the gomuti-palm.”

Closely allied to it is the Jack-fruit, which resembles the bread-fruit. This latter, Mr Sedgwick told us, attains the weight of nearly seventy-five pounds; so that even an Indian coolie can only carry one at a time. The part, he showed us, which is generally eaten, is a soft pulpy substance, enveloping each seed. The bread-fruit was baked entirely in the hot embers. It tasted, I thought, very much like mashed potatoes and milk. My uncle said he always compared it to Yorkshire pudding. It was a little fibrous, perhaps, towards the centre, though generally smooth, and somewhat of the consistence of yeast dumplings and batter pudding. Tanda fried part of it in slices, and also made a curry of another part. We had it also as a vegetable, with a gravy poured over it, to eat with meat. Another dish was prepared with sugar and milk, which we were surprised to see, and a treacly substance procured from some sugar-canes grown in a plantation near the house. It made a most delicious pudding.

“You see, I have become somewhat of an epicure,” observed my uncle; “but indeed it has been one of my sources of amusement to see what delicious dishes I could make out of the many bounties which Nature has spread round me.”

We had also, for meat, some pork—part of it fresh and part cured—a joint of venison, and a piece of beef from an animal with which I was afterwards to become acquainted.

I can scarcely describe the fish; but I know, among other things, there was one of the enormous crabs which we saw at Amboyna.

Our dinner was spread on a bamboo table, covered with mats, in what my uncle called his grand hall! It put me in mind somewhat of an ancient hall surrounded by trophies of the chase; partly also of a necromancer’s cavern, as from the ceiling hung curious stuffed animals, skulls, bones, dried plants, and other objects of natural history, in what, I had no doubt, seemed to the occupant perfect order, but which was somewhat incomprehensible to us. When dish after dish was put on the table, Frau Ursula lifted up her hands with astonishment.

“You do live like a prince, Mr Sedgwick,” she observed. “What kind fairy sends you all these good things?”

“I won them with my own arm, with the assistance of my faithful man Tanda here—or, as these young people seem inclined to call him, Friday; and I hope you will show your gratitude to the kind Providence which gives them, by doing justice to them.”

As dish after dish was brought up, the astonishment of all the party increased.

“Surely, uncle, you must have some fairy cook to prepare all these good things,” said Emily.

“I confess without the aid of Tanda they could not be produced,” he answered. “I am greatly helped by him, though occasionally I have given a hint or a little assistance. And now let us drink each other’s health in this palm-wine,” he said, producing a very nice-looking liquid from a huge shell.

Our plates, I should have said, were flat shells; while our cups were made of bamboo, as were our knives and forks.

“I must introduce you to my menagerie to-morrow morning,” observed my uncle. “There is not time to-night—indeed, some of my pets have retired to their lairs or gone to roost. If you hear strange noises at night, don’t be alarmed; as possibly some of them may be inclined to utter their natural cries during the night.”

Our conversation was altogether very lively; as we, of course, had a great deal to tell our uncle, and were also greatly interested by the account he gave of his expeditions, and the way in which he had lived on the island since he had been deserted. Sometimes he had thought of building a vessel and making his way to some civilised port; but the want of proper tools for cutting down large timber, and his ignorance of nautical affairs, deterred him.

“I thought it was as well to leave well alone,” he said. “I have here plenty of provisions; and I thought I could study natural history, which brought me here; and that, some time or other, some vessel would call and take me away. Had you, Walter and Emily, not come, however, I rather think my heart would have failed me even at the last moment, and I could scarcely have made up my mind to quit my solitary home and the style of life to which I have become accustomed.”

Our conversation was at length interrupted by a loud rattling peal of thunder, which crashed over our heads as if the whole heavens above them were rent in two. A blast swept over the forest, and we could hear the trees cracking as they bent before the wind. The house shook to its very foundation, and Emily and Grace trembled with alarm.

“No, no, my dears; don’t fear,” exclaimed Frau Ursula. “This is nothing to what I have heard in Ternate. There, one night, all the houses tumbled down, and the mountain sent up stones and cinders, which came rattling down on our heads.”

“There is another, though!” exclaimed Grace, clinging to the old lady’s arm.

Scarcely had the second crash of thunder passed away, than down came the rain, pattering on the roof and floor of the verandah. It seemed as if a waterspout had broken over us.

“I am thankful that you, my friends, are on shore,” observed my uncle; “but the brig—I feel anxious about her.” He got up, and put on a thick reed-made coat. “And here are some more,” he observed, giving Oliver and me one. “But no, Oliver, you stay with the ladies; and you too, Walter.”

I entreated that I might accompany him. He gave Roger Trew a similar covering, which completely sheltered us from the rain; and leaving Tanda and Oliver in charge of the house, we hurried away towards the shore. Although the gale had been blowing but a few minutes, already heavy seas came rolling in and breaking in masses of foam upon the rocks. We could see the brig, through the thickening gloom, at her anchors.

“I trust she may hold her ground,” said my uncle, as we watched her, already rising and falling with quick jerks, as the seas rapidly passed under her. “What say you?” he said, turning to Roger Trew. “Do you think, if she made sail, she could beat out of this bay, for I fear greatly that with the sea that rolls in here, when there is wind like this, she will be unable to remain at anchor?”

“I am very sure Mr Thudicumb will do his best to beat out of the bay,” answered Roger Trew. “I know that no seaman would like to be caught on a lee-shore like this in such a gale; and if it lasts long, even though the anchors do hold, it is likely enough to tear the stem out of her. The brig is not a bad craft for fine weather sailing, but she is lightly put together, and I wish that she was under weigh clear of the land, and then I would not fear for her.”

“Oh, my friend, my friend,” exclaimed my uncle, “would that you had been safe on shore!”

Scarcely had he spoken, when a flash of lightning, in a thick zig-zag stream, darted from the clouds overhead, running along the ground close to us, followed by the most deafening crash of thunder I ever heard. For an instant our eyes were blinded. We could scarcely see each other, much less observe any object out at sea. It was a minute or more before we recovered our sight.

“She is driving—she is driving!” exclaimed Roger Trew. “They are trying to make sail on her, but it is too late! The sea struck her bows just as she was paying off, and now here she comes bodily in towards the shore.”

We were able, by shading our eyes, once more to look in the direction of the brig. Too true were Roger’s words, and we saw her helplessly driving in towards the wild rocks near which we stood.

“Is the water deep, sir?” asked Roger. “If so, she may drive in close enough to get the people on shore before she goes to pieces.”

“I fear not,” answered Mr Sedgwick. “Reefs run out in all directions, and though, having no boat, I have been unable to sound round the island, yet, from the way I have seen the water breaking, I fear that there are reefs between us and her.”

“If we had a boat we might go off and get aboard her before she strikes,” exclaimed Roger. “Have not you a boat, sir? You would go, would you not? Mr Walter here, I know, would.”

“Unhappily I have no boat,” answered my uncle, in a tone almost of despair. “The crew may, perchance, reach the shore; but my poor friend, made weak from illness, will have but little chance of escaping with life.”

“We will do our best, sir—we will do our best,” answered Roger. “I will try and swim off to her when she strikes, and before the sea scatters her timbers; but it will be a tough job. I will not hide that from myself or you, sir.”

“Here, Walter,” said my uncle, “go and call Tanda, and tell him to bring as much ratan as he and you can carry. He is a clever fellow, in some respects, and his wits may help us.”

I was running off, when my uncle cried out—

“Stop, by-the-by, you may frighten the ladies, and he will not know what you mean. I will go myself, and you remain and see what you and our sailor friend here can do in the meantime, should the brig strike.”

My uncle hurried off to the house, and Roger and I, watching the brig, proceeded a short distance along the shore to a point whence a reef of rocks ran out, towards which it appeared to us that she was driving. How fearfully sharp and rugged did those rocks seem! I had thought little about them before; but now, when I feared that my friends were going to be hurled against them, I wished they were rounder, and covered with sea-weed, to which they might cling. We had each of us, as we left the house, seized a long bamboo pole. With this Roger and I made our way towards the point of a ledge of rock above water. Merlin, who had come with us down to the beach, followed close at our heels, seeming fully to understand the danger of our friends; for, as we stood watching the brig, he stretched out his head and uttered strangely loud barks, which seemed to have a tone of melancholy in them.

Nearer and nearer came the brig. Part of the bay, under the protection of the headland I spoke of, was rather more sheltered than it was further on. This gave us some hopes of the vessel holding together till the sea had sufficiently moderated to allow Mr Hooker to reach the shore. The rain continued pouring in torrents, driving in our faces. Often we could scarcely see the vessel. Then again a vivid flash of lightning, followed by a crash of thunder, showed her to us as she heeled over to the blast, driving slowly but surely towards the fatal rocks. Sometimes with difficulty we could keep our footing on the reef. I was anxiously looking for the return of my uncle and Tanda. Perhaps Tanda might swim to her. I myself felt greatly inclined to make the attempt, in spite of the sea rolling in. Now for an instant the rain partially ceased, and shading our eyes, we could see the brig still nearer than before. Then a huge sea came rolling in. She rose on its crest, driven onwards with greater rapidity than before. Suddenly she seemed to stop. The sea washed over her.

“She has struck! she has struck!” cried Roger.

Her masts, however, still stood; but we expected them every instant to go.

“Poor fellows! poor fellows!” cried Roger. “Master Walter, I have no kith nor kin; I will try and get off to them; and if I am lost, you will tell them that I wished to lend them a hand, but had not the power.”

“Stop!” I said; “here come my uncle and the black man, and they may have some plan, without your being obliged to risk your life.”

“As to that, it is not worth thinking about,” answered Roger; “but we will see what they propose.”

In the meantime we endeavoured to ascertain what the people on board the brig were going to do. The darkness, however, was so great, that we could not distinguish anything going forward among them. There the brig lay, however, hard and fast; the seas breaking now over one end, now over the other, but not with such violence as we dreaded.

Chapter Twenty Two.

Wreck of the Dugong.

The arrival of my uncle with his man, carrying a quantity of the light ratan rope, gave us some hopes of being able to rescue our friends on board the brig.

“To be sure, this will float as easily as a cork,” exclaimed Roger; “and I see no reason why I should not tow the end off aboard the brig. You, Tanda, pay it out as you see I want it.”

Again my uncle warned him of the danger.

“Very true, sir,” he answered, fastening the end round his waist; “but, you see, if we seamen had to stop every time we saw danger, we should very soon have to go ashore and take to nursing babies. No, sir; my notion is that the thing is to be done. It may fail; but if it succeeds, why, we may manage to get most of those poor fellows safe on shore.”