The Coral Island Read online

  3

  There is a strange and peculiar sensation experienced in recovering from a state of insensibility, which is almost indescribable; a sort of dreamy, confused consciousness; a half-waking half-sleeping condition, accompanied with a feeling of weariness, which, however, is by no means disagreeable. As I slowly recovered and heard the voice of Peterkin inquiring whether I felt better, I thought that I must have overslept myself, and should be sent to the mast-head for being lazy; but before I could leap up in haste, the thought seemed to vanish suddenly away, and I fancied that I must have been ill. Then a balmy breeze fanned my cheek, and I thought of home, and the garden at the back of my father's cottage, with its luxuriant flowers, and the sweet-scented honeysuckle that my dear mother trained so carefully upon the trellised porch. But the roaring of the surf put these delightful thoughts to flight, and I was back again at sea, watching the dolphins and the flying-fish, and reefing topsails off the wild and stormy Cape Horn. Gradually the roar of the surf became louder and more distinct. I thought of being wrecked far, far away from my native land, and slowly opened my eyes to meet those of my companion Jack, who, with a look of intense anxiety, was gazing into my face.

  ‘Speak to us, my dear Ralph,’ whispered Jack, tenderly, ‘are you better now?’

  I smiled and looked up, saying: ‘Better; why, what do you mean, Jack? I'm quite well.’

  ‘Then what are you shamming for, and frightening us in this way?’ said Peterkin, smiling through his tears; for the poor boy had been really under the impression that I was dying.

  I now raised myself on my elbow, and putting my hand to my forehead, found that it had been cut pretty severely, and that I had lost a good deal of blood.

  ‘Come, come, Ralph,’ said Jack, pressing me gently backward, ‘lie down, my boy; you're not right yet. Wet your lips with this water, it's cool and clear as crystal. I got it from a spring close at hand. There now, don't say a word, hold your tongue,’ said he, seeing me about to speak. ‘I'll tell you all about it, but you must not utter a syllable till you have rested well.’

  ‘Oh! don't stop him from speaking, Jack,’ said Peterkin, who, now that his fears for my safety were removed, busied himself in erecting a shelter of broken branches in order to protect me from the wind; which, however, was almost unnecessary, for the rock beside which I had been laid completely broke the force of the gale. ‘Let him speak, Jack; it's a comfort to hear that he's alive, after lying there stiff and white and sulky for a whole hour, just like an Egyptian mummy. Never saw such a fellow as you are, Ralph; always up to mischief. You've almost knocked out all my teeth and more than half choked me, and now you go shamming dead! It's very wicked of you, indeed it is.’

  While Peterkin ran on in this style, my faculties became quite clear again, and I began to understand my position. ‘What do you mean by saying I half choked you, Peterkin?’ said I.

  ‘What do I mean? Is English not your mother tongue, or do you want me to repeat it in French, by way of making it clearer? Don't you remember –’

  ‘I remember nothing,’ said I, interrupting him, ‘after we were thrown into the sea.’

  ‘Hush, Peterkin,’ said Jack, ‘you're exciting Ralph with your nonsense. I'll explain it to you. You recollect that after the ship struck, we three sprang over the bow into the sea; well, I noticed that the oar struck your head and gave you that cut on the brow, which nearly stunned you, so that you grasped Peterkin round the neck without knowing apparently what you were about. In doing so you pushed the telescope – which you clung to as if it had been your life – against Peterkin's mouth –’

  ‘Pushed it against his mouth!’ interrupted Peterkin, ‘say crammed it down his throat. Why, there's a distinct mark of the brass rim on the back of my gullet at this moment!’

  ‘Well, well, be that as it may,’ continued Jack, ‘you clung to him, Ralph, till I feared you really would choke him; but I saw that he had a good hold of the oar, so I exerted myself to the utmost to push you towards the shore, which we luckily reached without much trouble, for the water inside the reef is quite calm.’

  ‘But the captain and crew, what of them?’ I inquired, anxiously.

  Jack shook his head.

  ‘Are they lost?’

  ‘No, they are not lost, I hope, but I fear there is not much chance of their being saved. The ship struck at the very tail of the island on which we were cast. When the boat was tossed into the sea it fortunately did not upset, although it shipped a good deal of water, and all the men managed to scramble into it; but before they could get the oars out the gale carried them past the point and away to leeward of the island. After we landed I saw them endeavouring to pull towards us, but as they had only one pair of oars out of the eight that belong to the boat, and as the wind was blowing right in their teeth, they gradually lost ground. Then I saw them put about and hoist some sort of sail, a blanket, I fancy, for it was too small for the boat – and in half an hour they were out of sight.’

  ‘Poor fellows,’ I murmured, sorrowfully.

  ‘But the more I think about it, I've better hope of them,’ continued Jack, in a more cheerful tone. ‘You see, Ralph, I've read a great deal about these South Sea Islands, and I know that in many places they are scattered about in thousands over the sea, so they're almost sure to fall in with one of them before long.’

  ‘I'm sure I hope so,’ said Peterkin, earnestly. ‘But what has become of the wreck, Jack? I saw you clambering up the rocks there while I was watching Ralph. Did you say she had gone to pieces?’

  ‘No, she has not gone to pieces, but she has gone to the bottom,’ replied Jack. ‘As I said before, she struck on the tail of the island and stove in her bow, but the next breaker swung her clear, and she floated away to leeward. The poor fellows in the boat made a hard struggle to reach her, but long before they came near her she filled and went down. It was after she foundered that I saw them trying to pull to the island.’

  There was a long silence after Jack ceased speaking, and I have no doubt that each was revolving in his mind our extraordinary position. For my part I cannot say that my reflections were very agreeable. I knew that we were on an island, for Jack had said so, but whether it was inhabited or not I did not know. If it should be inhabited, I felt certain, from all I had heard of South Sea islanders, that we should be roasted alive and eaten. If it should turn out to be uninhabited, I fancied that we should starve to death. ‘Oh!’ thought I, ‘if the ship had only stuck on the rocks we might have done pretty well, for we could have obtained provisions from her, and tools to enable us to build a shelter, but now – alas! alas! we are lost!’ These last words I uttered aloud in my distress.

  ‘Lost! Ralph?’ exclaimed Jack, while a smile overspread his hearty countenance. ‘Saved, you should have said.’

  ‘Do you know what conclusion I have come to?’ said Peterkin. ‘I have made up my mind that it's capital first rate – the best thing that ever happened to us, and the most splendid prospect that ever lay before three jolly young tars. We've got an island all to ourselves. We'll take possession in the name of the king; we'll go and enter the service of its inhabitants. Of course we'll rise, naturally, to the top of affairs. You shall be king, Jack; Ralph, prime minister, and I shall be –’

  ‘The court jester,’ interrupted Jack.

  ‘No,’ retorted Peterkin, ‘I have no title at all. I shall merely accept a highly responsible situation under government, for you see, Jack, I'm fond of having an enormous salary and nothing to do.’

  ‘But suppose there are no natives?’

  ‘Then we'll build a charming villa, and plant a lovely garden round it, stuck all full of the most splendiferous tropical flowers, and we'll farm the land, plant, sow, reap, eat, sleep, and be merry.’

  ‘But to be serious,’ said Jack, assuming a grave expression of countenance, which I observed always had the effect of checking Peterkin's disposition to make fun of everything, ‘we are really in rather an uncomfortable position. If this is a
desert island, we shall have to live very much like the wild beasts, for we have not a tool of any kind, not even a knife.’

  ‘Yes, we have that,’ said Peterkin, fumbling in his trousers pocket, from which he drew forth a small penknife with only one blade, and that was broken.

  ‘Well, that's better than nothing; but come,’ said Jack, rising, ‘we are wasting our time in talking instead of doing. You seem well enough to walk now, Ralph, let us see what we have got in our pockets, and then let us climb some hill and ascertain what sort of island we have been cast upon, for, whether good or bad, it seems likely to be our home for some time to come.’

  4

  We now seated ourselves upon a rock and began to examine into our personal property. When we reached the shore, after being wrecked, my companions had taken off part of their clothes and spread them out in the sun to dry, for, although the gale was raging fiercely, there was not a single cloud in the bright sky. They had also stripped off most part of my wet clothes and spread them also on the rocks. Having resumed our garments, we now searched all our pockets with the utmost care, and laid their contents out on a flat stone before us; and, now that our minds were fully alive to our condition, it was with no little anxiety that we turned our several pockets inside out, in order that nothing might escape us. When all was collected together we found that our worldly goods consisted of the following articles:

  First, a small penknife with a single blade broken off about the middle and very rusty, besides having two or three notches on its edge. (Peterkin said of this, with his usual pleasantry, that it would do for a saw as well as a knife, which was a great advantage.) Second, an old German-silver pencil-case without any lead in it. Third, a piece of whip-cord about six yards long. Fourth, a sailmaker's needle of a small size. Fifth, a ship's telescope, which I happened to have in my hand at the time the ship struck, and which I had clung to firmly all the time I was in the water. Indeed it was with difficulty that Jack got it out of my grasp when I was lying insensible on the shore. I cannot understand why I kept such a firm hold of this telescope. They say that a drowning man will clutch at a straw. Perhaps it may have been some such feeling in me, for I did not know that it was in my hand at the time we were wrecked. However, we felt some pleasure in having it with us now, although we did not see that it could be of much use to us, as the glass at the small end was broken to pieces. Our sixth article was a brass ring which Jack always wore on his little finger. I never understood why he wore it, for Jack was not vain in his appearance, and did not seem to care for ornaments of any kind. Peterkin said ‘it was in memory of the girl he left behind him!’ But as he never spoke of this girl to either of us, I am inclined to think that Peterkin was either jesting or mistaken. In addition to these articles we had a little bit of tinder, and the clothes on our backs. These last were as follows:

  Each of us had on a pair of stout canvas trousers, and a pair of sailors' thick shoes. Jack wore a red flannel shirt, a blue jacket, and a red Kilmarnock bonnet or night-cap, besides a pair of worsted socks, and a cotton pocket-handkerchief, with sixteen portraits of Lord Nelson printed on it, and a Union Jack in the middle. Peterkin had on a striped flannel shirt – which he wore outside his trousers, and belted round his waist, after the manner of a tunic – and a round black straw hat. He had no jacket, having thrown it off just before we were cast into the sea; but this was not of much consequence, as the climate of the island proved to be extremely mild; so much so, indeed, that Jack and I often preferred to go about without our jackets. Peterkin had also a pair of white cotton socks, and a blue handkerchief with white spots all over it. My own costume consisted of a blue flannel shirt, a blue jacket, a black cap, and a pair of worsted socks, besides the shoes and canvas trousers already mentioned. This was all we had, and besides these things we had nothing else; but, when we thought of the danger from which we had escaped, and how much worse off we might have been had the ship struck on the reef during the night, we felt very thankful that we were possessed of so much, although, I must confess, we sometimes wished that we had had a little more.

  While we were examining these things, and talking about them, Jack suddenly started and exclaimed:

  ‘The oar! we have forgotten the oar.’

  ‘What good will that do us?’ said Peterkin; ‘there's wood enough on the island to make a thousand oars.’

  ‘Ay, lad,’ replied Jack, ‘but there's a bit of hoop iron at the end of it, and that may be of much use to us.’

  ‘Very true,’ said I, ‘let us go fetch it’; and with that we all three rose and hastened down the beach. I still felt a little weak from loss of blood, so that my companions soon began to leave me behind; but Jack perceived this, and, with his usual considerate good nature, turned back to help me. This was now the first time that I had looked well about me since landing, as the spot where I had laid was covered with thick bushes which almost hid the country from our view. As we now emerged from among these and walked down the sandy beach together, I cast my eyes about, and, truly, my heart glowed within me and my spirits rose at the beautiful prospect which I beheld on every side. The gale had suddenly died away, just as if it had blown furiously till it dashed our ship upon the rocks, and had nothing more to do after accomplishing that. The island on which we stood was hilly, and covered almost everywhere with the most beautiful and richly coloured trees, bushes, and shrubs, none of which I knew the names of at that time, except, indeed, the coconut palms, which I recognized at once from the many pictures that I had seen of them before I left home. A sandy beach of dazzling whiteness lined this bright green shore, and upon it there fell a gentle ripple of the sea. This last astonished me much, for I recollected that at home the sea used to fall in huge billows on the shore long after a storm had subsided. But on casting my glance out to sea the cause became apparent. About a mile distant from the shore I saw the great billows of the ocean rolling like a green wall and falling with a long, loud roar, upon a low coral reef, where they were dashed into white foam and flung up in clouds of spray. This spray sometimes flew exceedingly high, and, every here and there, a beautiful rainbow was formed for a moment among the falling drops. We afterwards found that this coral reef extended quite round the island, and formed a natural breakwater to it. Beyond this the sea rose and tossed violently from the effects of the storm; but between the reef and the shore it was as calm and as smooth as a pond.

  My heart was filled with more delight than I can express at sight of so many glorious objects, and I observed from the expression of my companion's countenance that he too derived much joy from the splendid scenery, which was all the more agreeable to us after our long voyage on the salt sea. There, the breeze was fresh and cold, but here it was delightfully mild: and, when a puff blew off the land, it came laden with the most exquisite perfume that can be imagined. While we thus gazed, we were startled by a loud ‘Huzza!’ from Peterkin, and, on looking towards the edge of the sea, we saw him capering and jumping about like a monkey, and ever and anon tugging with all his might at something that lay upon the shore.

  ‘What an odd fellow he is, to be sure,’ said Jack, taking me by the arm and hurrying forward; ‘come, let us hasten to see what it is.’

  ‘Here it is, boys, hurrah! come along. Just what we want,’ cried Peterkin, as we drew near, still tugging with all his power. ‘First rate; just the very ticket!’

  On coming up we found that Peterkin was vainly endeavouring to pull the axe out of the oar, into which, it will be remembered, Jack struck it while endeavouring to cut away the cordage among which it had become entangled at the bow of the ship. Fortunately for us the axe had remained fast in the oar, and even now, all Peterkin's strength could not draw it out of the cut.

  ‘Ah! that is capital indeed,’ cried Jack, at the same time giving the axe a wrench that plucked it out of the tough wood. ‘How fortunate this is! It will be of more value to us than a hundred knives, and the edge is quite new and sharp.’

  ‘I'll answer for the toughnes
s of the handle at any rate,’ cried Peterkin; ‘my arms are nearly pulled out of the sockets. But see here, our luck is great. There is iron on the blade.’ He pointed to a piece of hoop iron, as he spoke, which had been nailed round the blade of the oar to prevent it from splitting.

  This also was a fortunate discovery. Jack went down on his knees, and with the edge of the axe began carefully to force out the nails. But as they were firmly fixed in, and the operation blunted our axe, we carried the oar up with us to the place where we had left the rest of our things, intending to burn the wood away from the iron at a more convenient time.

  ‘Now, lads,’ said Jack, after we had laid it on the stone which contained our little all, ‘I propose that we should go to the tail of the island, where the ship struck, which is only a quarter of a mile off, and see if anything else has been thrown ashore. I don't expect anything, but it is well to see. When we get back here it will be time to have our supper and prepare our beds.’

  ‘Agreed!’ cried Peterkin and I together, as, indeed, we would have agreed to any proposal that Jack made; for, besides his being older and much stronger and taller than either of us, he was a very clever fellow, and I think would have induced people much older than himself to choose him for their leader, especially if they required to be led on a bold enterprise.

  Now, as we hastened along the white beach, which shone so brightly in the rays of the setting sun that our eyes were quite dazzled by its glare, it suddenly came into Peterkin's head that we had nothing to eat except the wild berries which grew in profusion at our feet.

  ‘What shall we do, Jack?’ said he, with a rueful look; ‘perhaps they may be poisonous!’