CHAPTER XIV
THE ISLET
With my stepping ashore I began the most unhappy part of my adventures.It was half-past twelve in the morning, and though the wind was brokenby the land, it was a cold night. I dared not sit down (for I thoughtI should have frozen), but took off my shoes and walked to and fro uponthe sand, bare-foot, and beating my breast with infinite weariness.There was no sound of man or cattle; not a cock crew, though it wasabout the hour of their first waking; only the surf broke outside in thedistance, which put me in mind of my perils and those of my friend.To walk by the sea at that hour of the morning, and in a place sodesert-like and lonesome, struck me with a kind of fear.
As soon as the day began to break I put on my shoes and climbed ahill--the ruggedest scramble I ever undertook--falling, the whole way,between big blocks of granite, or leaping from one to another. When Igot to the top the dawn was come. There was no sign of the brig, whichmust have lifted from the reef and sunk. The boat, too, was nowhere tobe seen. There was never a sail upon the ocean; and in what I could seeof the land was neither house nor man.
I was afraid to think what had befallen my shipmates, and afraid to looklonger at so empty a scene. What with my wet clothes and weariness, andmy belly that now began to ache with hunger, I had enough to troubleme without that. So I set off eastward along the south coast, hoping tofind a house where I might warm myself, and perhaps get news of those Ihad lost. And at the worst, I considered the sun would soon rise and drymy clothes.
After a little, my way was stopped by a creek or inlet of the sea, whichseemed to run pretty deep into the land; and as I had no means to getacross, I must needs change my direction to go about the end of it. Itwas still the roughest kind of walking; indeed the whole, not only ofEarraid, but of the neighbouring part of Mull (which they call the Ross)is nothing but a jumble of granite rocks with heather in among. At firstthe creek kept narrowing as I had looked to see; but presently to mysurprise it began to widen out again. At this I scratched my head,but had still no notion of the truth: until at last I came to a risingground, and it burst upon me all in a moment that I was cast upon alittle barren isle, and cut off on every side by the salt seas.
Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it came on to rain, with a thickmist; so that my case was lamentable.
I stood in the rain, and shivered, and wondered what to do, till itoccurred to me that perhaps the creek was fordable. Back I went to thenarrowest point and waded in. But not three yards from shore, I plumpedin head over ears; and if ever I was heard of more, it was rather byGod's grace than my own prudence. I was no wetter (for that could hardlybe), but I was all the colder for this mishap; and having lost anotherhope was the more unhappy.
And now, all at once, the yard came in my head. What had carried methrough the roost would surely serve me to cross this little quiet creekin safety. With that I set off, undaunted, across the top of the isle,to fetch and carry it back. It was a weary tramp in all ways, and ifhope had not buoyed me up, I must have cast myself down and given up.Whether with the sea salt, or because I was growing fevered, I wasdistressed with thirst, and had to stop, as I went, and drink the peatywater out of the hags.
I came to the bay at last, more dead than alive; and at the firstglance, I thought the yard was something farther out than when I leftit. In I went, for the third time, into the sea. The sand was smoothand firm, and shelved gradually down, so that I could wade out till thewater was almost to my neck and the little waves splashed into my face.But at that depth my feet began to leave me, and I durst venture in nofarther. As for the yard, I saw it bobbing very quietly some twenty feetbeyond.
I had borne up well until this last disappointment; but at that I cameashore, and flung myself down upon the sands and wept.
The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thought to me,that I must pass it lightly over. In all the books I have read of peoplecast away, they had either their pockets full of tools, or a chest ofthings would be thrown upon the beach along with them, as if on purpose.My case was very different. I had nothing in my pockets but money andAlan's silver button; and being inland bred, I was as much short ofknowledge as of means.
I knew indeed that shell-fish were counted good to eat; and among therocks of the isle I found a great plenty of limpets, which at first Icould scarcely strike from their places, not knowing quickness to beneedful. There were, besides, some of the little shells that we callbuckies; I think periwinkle is the English name. Of these two I made mywhole diet, devouring them cold and raw as I found them; and so hungrywas I, that at first they seemed to me delicious.
Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there was something wrongin the sea about my island. But at least I had no sooner eaten my firstmeal than I was seized with giddiness and retching, and lay for a longtime no better than dead. A second trial of the same food (indeed I hadno other) did better with me, and revived my strength. But as long asI was on the island, I never knew what to expect when I had eaten;sometimes all was well, and sometimes I was thrown into a miserablesickness; nor could I ever distinguish what particular fish it was thathurt me.
All day it streamed rain; the island ran like a sop, there was no dryspot to be found; and when I lay down that night, between two bouldersthat made a kind of roof, my feet were in a bog.
The second day I crossed the island to all sides. There was no one partof it better than another; it was all desolate and rocky; nothing livingon it but game birds which I lacked the means to kill, and the gullswhich haunted the outlying rocks in a prodigious number. But the creek,or strait, that cut off the isle from the main-land of the Ross, openedout on the north into a bay, and the bay again opened into the Sound ofIona; and it was the neighbourhood of this place that I chose to be myhome; though if I had thought upon the very name of home in such a spot,I must have burst out weeping.
I had good reasons for my choice. There was in this part of the isle alittle hut of a house like a pig's hut, where fishers used to sleep whenthey came there upon their business; but the turf roof of it had fallenentirely in; so that the hut was of no use to me, and gave me lessshelter than my rocks. What was more important, the shell-fish on whichI lived grew there in great plenty; when the tide was out I could gathera peck at a time: and this was doubtless a convenience. But the otherreason went deeper. I had become in no way used to the horrid solitudeof the isle, but still looked round me on all sides (like a man thatwas hunted), between fear and hope that I might see some human creaturecoming. Now, from a little up the hillside over the bay, I could catch asight of the great, ancient church and the roofs of the people's housesin Iona. And on the other hand, over the low country of the Ross, I sawsmoke go up, morning and evening, as if from a homestead in a hollow ofthe land.
I used to watch this smoke, when I was wet and cold, and had my headhalf turned with loneliness; and think of the fireside and thecompany, till my heart burned. It was the same with the roofs of Iona.Altogether, this sight I had of men's homes and comfortable lives,although it put a point on my own sufferings, yet it kept hope alive,and helped me to eat my raw shell-fish (which had soon grown to be adisgust), and saved me from the sense of horror I had whenever I wasquite alone with dead rocks, and fowls, and the rain, and the cold sea.
I say it kept hope alive; and indeed it seemed impossible that I shouldbe left to die on the shores of my own country, and within view of achurch-tower and the smoke of men's houses. But the second day passed;and though as long as the light lasted I kept a bright look-out forboats on the Sound or men passing on the Ross, no help came near me. Itstill rained, and I turned in to sleep, as wet as ever, and with a cruelsore throat, but a little comforted, perhaps, by having said good-nightto my next neighbours, the people of Iona.
Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days in theyear in the climate of England than in any other. This was very like aking, with a palace at his back and changes of dry clothes. But he musthave had better luck on his flight from Worcester than I
had on thatmiserable isle. It was the height of the summer; yet it rained for morethan twenty-four hours, and did not clear until the afternoon of thethird day.
This was the day of incidents. In the morning I saw a red deer, a buckwith a fine spread of antlers, standing in the rain on the top of theisland; but he had scarce seen me rise from under my rock, beforehe trotted off upon the other side. I supposed he must have swum thestrait; though what should bring any creature to Earraid, was more thanI could fancy.
A little after, as I was jumping about after my limpets, I was startledby a guinea-piece, which fell upon a rock in front of me and glanced offinto the sea. When the sailors gave me my money again, they kept backnot only about a third of the whole sum, but my father's leather purse;so that from that day out, I carried my gold loose in a pocket with abutton. I now saw there must be a hole, and clapped my hand to the placein a great hurry. But this was to lock the stable door after the steedwas stolen. I had left the shore at Queensferry with near on fiftypounds; now I found no more than two guinea-pieces and a silvershilling.
It is true I picked up a third guinea a little after, where it layshining on a piece of turf. That made a fortune of three pounds and fourshillings, English money, for a lad, the rightful heir of an estate, andnow starving on an isle at the extreme end of the wild Highlands.
This state of my affairs dashed me still further; and, indeed my plighton that third morning was truly pitiful. My clothes were beginning torot; my stockings in particular were quite worn through, so that myshanks went naked; my hands had grown quite soft with the continualsoaking; my throat was very sore, my strength had much abated, and myheart so turned against the horrid stuff I was condemned to eat, thatthe very sight of it came near to sicken me.
And yet the worst was not yet come.
There is a pretty high rock on the northwest of Earraid, which (becauseit had a flat top and overlooked the Sound) I was much in the habit offrequenting; not that ever I stayed in one place, save when asleep, mymisery giving me no rest. Indeed, I wore myself down with continual andaimless goings and comings in the rain.
As soon, however, as the sun came out, I lay down on the top of thatrock to dry myself. The comfort of the sunshine is a thing I cannottell. It set me thinking hopefully of my deliverance, of which I hadbegun to despair; and I scanned the sea and the Ross with a freshinterest. On the south of my rock, a part of the island jutted out andhid the open ocean, so that a boat could thus come quite near me uponthat side, and I be none the wiser.
Well, all of a sudden, a coble with a brown sail and a pair of fishersaboard of it, came flying round that corner of the isle, bound for Iona.I shouted out, and then fell on my knees on the rock and reached up myhands and prayed to them. They were near enough to hear--I could evensee the colour of their hair; and there was no doubt but they observedme, for they cried out in the Gaelic tongue, and laughed. But the boatnever turned aside, and flew on, right before my eyes, for Iona.
I could not believe such wickedness, and ran along the shore from rockto rock, crying on them piteously even after they were out of reachof my voice, I still cried and waved to them; and when they were quitegone, I thought my heart would have burst. All the time of my troublesI wept only twice. Once, when I could not reach the yard, and now, thesecond time, when these fishers turned a deaf ear to my cries. But thistime I wept and roared like a wicked child, tearing up the turf withmy nails, and grinding my face in the earth. If a wish would kill men,those two fishers would never have seen morning, and I should likelyhave died upon my island.
When I was a little over my anger, I must eat again, but with suchloathing of the mess as I could now scarce control. Sure enough, Ishould have done as well to fast, for my fishes poisoned me again. I hadall my first pains; my throat was so sore I could scarce swallow; I hada fit of strong shuddering, which clucked my teeth together; and therecame on me that dreadful sense of illness, which we have no name foreither in Scotch or English. I thought I should have died, and made mypeace with God, forgiving all men, even my uncle and the fishers; and assoon as I had thus made up my mind to the worst, clearness came upon me;I observed the night was falling dry; my clothes were dried a good deal;truly, I was in a better case than ever before, since I had landed onthe isle; and so I got to sleep at last, with a thought of gratitude.
The next day (which was the fourth of this horrible life of mine) Ifound my bodily strength run very low. But the sun shone, the air wassweet, and what I managed to eat of the shell-fish agreed well with meand revived my courage.
I was scarce back on my rock (where I went always the first thing afterI had eaten) before I observed a boat coming down the Sound, and withher head, as I thought, in my direction.
I began at once to hope and fear exceedingly; for I thought these menmight have thought better of their cruelty and be coming back to myassistance. But another disappointment, such as yesterday's, was morethan I could bear. I turned my back, accordingly, upon the sea, anddid not look again till I had counted many hundreds. The boat was stillheading for the island. The next time I counted the full thousand, asslowly as I could, my heart beating so as to hurt me. And then it wasout of all question. She was coming straight to Earraid!
I could no longer hold myself back, but ran to the seaside and out,from one rock to another, as far as I could go. It is a marvel I was notdrowned; for when I was brought to a stand at last, my legs shook underme, and my mouth was so dry, I must wet it with the sea-water before Iwas able to shout.
All this time the boat was coming on; and now I was able to perceiveit was the same boat and the same two men as yesterday. This I knew bytheir hair, which the one had of a bright yellow and the other black.But now there was a third man along with them, who looked to be of abetter class.
As soon as they were come within easy speech, they let down their sailand lay quiet. In spite of my supplications, they drew no nearer in, andwhat frightened me most of all, the new man tee-hee'd with laughter ashe talked and looked at me.
Then he stood up in the boat and addressed me a long while, speakingfast and with many wavings of his hand. I told him I had no Gaelic; andat this he became very angry, and I began to suspect he thought he wastalking English. Listening very close, I caught the word "whateffer"several times; but all the rest was Gaelic and might have been Greek andHebrew for me.
"Whatever," said I, to show him I had caught a word.
"Yes, yes--yes, yes," says he, and then he looked at the other men, asmuch as to say, "I told you I spoke English," and began again as hard asever in the Gaelic.
This time I picked out another word, "tide." Then I had a flash of hope.I remembered he was always waving his hand towards the mainland of theRoss.
"Do you mean when the tide is out--?" I cried, and could not finish.
"Yes, yes," said he. "Tide."
At that I turned tail upon their boat (where my adviser had once morebegun to tee-hee with laughter), leaped back the way I had come, fromone stone to another, and set off running across the isle as I had neverrun before. In about half an hour I came out upon the shores of thecreek; and, sure enough, it was shrunk into a little trickle of water,through which I dashed, not above my knees, and landed with a shout onthe main island.
A sea-bred boy would not have stayed a day on Earraid; which is onlywhat they call a tidal islet, and except in the bottom of the neaps, canbe entered and left twice in every twenty-four hours, either dry-shod,or at the most by wading. Even I, who had the tide going out and inbefore me in the bay, and even watched for the ebbs, the better to getmy shellfish--even I (I say) if I had sat down to think, instead ofraging at my fate, must have soon guessed the secret, and got free. Itwas no wonder the fishers had not understood me. The wonder was ratherthat they had ever guessed my pitiful illusion, and taken the trouble tocome back. I had starved with cold and hunger on that island for closeupon one hundred hours. But for the fishers, I might have left my bonesthere, in pure folly. And even as it was, I had paid for it pretty dear,not only
in past sufferings, but in my present case; being clothed likea beggar-man, scarce able to walk, and in great pain of my sore throat.
I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both; and I believethey both get paid in the end; but the fools first.
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