CHAPTER TWO.
ISLAND LIFE.
There are few of the minor sweets of life more agreeable than to awakerefreshed, and to become gradually impressed with the conviction thatyou are a perfectly free agent,--that you may rise when you choose, orlie still if you please, or do what you like, without let or hindrance.
So thought our hero, John Jarwin, when he awoke, on the same spot wherehe had thrown himself down, after several hours of life-giving slumber.He was still weak, but his weakness did not now oppress him. The slightmeal, the long draught, and the deep sleep, had restored enough ofvigour to his naturally robust frame to enable him, while lying on hisback, to enjoy his existence once more. He was, on first awaking, inthat happy condition of mind and body in which the former does not careto think and the latter does not wish to move--yet both are pleased tobe largely conscious of their own identity.
That he had not moved an inch since he lay down, became somewhatapparent to Jarwin from the fact that Cuffy's chin still restedimmovable on his neck, but his mind was too indolent to pursue thethought. He had not the most remote idea as to where he was, but hecared nothing for that. He was in absolute ignorance of the time ofday, but he cared, if possible, still less for that. Food, he knew, wasnecessary to his existence, but the thought gave him no anxiety. Inshort, John and his dog were in a state of quiescent felicity, and wouldprobably have remained so for some hours to come, had not the settingsun shone forth at that moment with a farewell gleam so intense, that itappeared to set the world of clouds overhead on fire, converting theminto hills and dales, and towering domes and walls and battlements ofmolten glass and gold. Even to the wearied seaman's sleepy vision thesplendour of the scene became so fascinating, that he shook off hislethargy, and raised himself on one elbow.
"Why, Cuffy!" he exclaimed, to the yawning dog, "seems to me that theheavens is a-fire! Hope it won't come on dirty weather before you an' Iget up somethin' in the shape o' a hut. That minds me, doggie," headded, glancing slowly round him, "that we must look after prokoorin' ofour supper. I do believe we've bin an' slep away a whole day! Well,well, it don't much matter, seein' that we hain't got no dooty for todo--no trick at the wheel, no greasin' the masts--wust of all, nosplicin' the main brace, and no grub."
This latter remark appeared to reach the understanding of the dog, forit uttered a melancholy howl as it gazed into its master's eyes.
"Ah, Cuffy!" continued the sailor with a sigh, "you've good reason toyowl, for the half of a rotten fish ain't enough for a dog o' yourappetite. Come, let's see if we can't find somethin' more to ourtastes."
Saying this the man rose, stretched himself, yawned, looked helplesslyround for a few seconds, and then, with a cheery "Hallo! Cuff, comealong, my hearty," went down to the beach in quest of food.
In this search he was not unsuccessful, for the beach abounded withshell-fish of various kinds; but Jarwin ate sparingly of these, havingbeen impressed, in former years, by some stories which he had heard ofshipwrecked sailors having been poisoned by shell-fish. For the samereason he administered a moderate supply to Cuffy, telling him that "itwarn't safe wittles, an' that if they was to be pisoned, it was as wellto be pisoned in moderation." The dog, however, did not appear to agreewith its master on this point, for it went picking up little tit-bitshere and there, and selfishly ignoring the "share-and-share-alike"compact, until it became stuffed alarmingly, and could scarcely followits master back to the fountain.
Arrived there, the two slaked their thirst together, and then Jarwin satdown to enjoy a pipe, and Cuffy lay down to suffer the well-meritedreward of gluttony.
We have said that Jarwin sat down to enjoy a pipe, but he did _not_enjoy it that night, for he discovered that the much-loved littleimplement, which he had cherished tenderly while on the raft, was brokento atoms in his coat-pocket! In his eagerness to drink on firstlanding, he had thrown himself down on it, and now smoking was animpossibility, at least for that night. He reflected, however, that itwould not be difficult to make a wooden pipe, and that cigarettes mightperhaps be made by means of leaves, or bark, while his tobacco lasted;so he consoled himself in the meantime with hopeful anticipations, and aquid. Being still weak and weary, he lay down again beside thefountain, and almost immediately fell into a sleep, which was not at alldisturbed by the starts and groans and frequent yelps of Cuffy, whosesufferings could scarcely have been more severe if he had supped onturtle-soup and venison, washed down with port and claret.
Thus did those castaways spend the first night on their island.
It must not be supposed, however, that we are going to trace thusminutely every step and sensation in the career of our unfortunatefriends. We have too much to tell that is important to devote our"valuable space" to everyday incidents. Nevertheless, as it isimportant that our readers should understand our hero thoroughly, andthe circumstances in which we find him, it is necessary that we shoulddraw attention to some incidents--trifling in themselves, but importantin their effects--which occurred to John Jarwin soon after his landingon the island.
The first of these incidents was, that John one day slipped his foot ona tangle-covered rock, and fell into the sea. A small matter this, youwill say, to a man who could swim, and in a climate so warm that a dip,with or without clothes, was a positive luxury. Most true; and had thewetting been all, Jarwin would have had nothing to annoy him; for at thetime the accident occurred he had been a week on the island, had managedto pull and crack many cocoa-nuts, and had found various excellentwild-fruits, so that his strength, as well as Cuffy's, had been muchrestored. In fact, when Jarwin's head emerged from the brine, after histumble, he gave vent to a shout of laughter, and continued to indulge inhilarious demonstrations all the time he was wringing the water out ofhis garments, while the terrier barked wildly round him.
But suddenly, in the very midst of a laugh, he became grave and pale,--so pale, that a more obtuse creature than Cuffy might have deemed himill. While his mouth and eyes slowly opened wider and wider, his handsslapped his pockets, first his trousers, then his vest, then his coat,after which they fell like pistol-shots on his thighs, and he exclaimed,in a voice of horror--"Gone!"
Ay, there could be no doubt about it; every particle of his tobacco wasgone! It had never been much, only three or four plugs; but it wasstrong, and he had calculated that, what with careful husbanding, andmixing it with other herbs, it would last him for a considerable lengthof time.
In a state bordering on frenzy, the sailor rushed back to the rock fromwhich he had fallen. The "baccy" was not there. He glanced right andleft--no sign of it floating on the sea. In he went, head foremost,like a determined suicide; down, down to the bottom, for he was anexpert diver, and rioted among the coral groves, and horrified the fish,until he well-nigh burst, and rose to the surface with a groan andsplutter that might have roused envy in a porpoise. Then down he wentagain, while Cuffy stood on the shore regarding him with mute amazement.
Never did pearl-diver grope for the treasures of the deep with moreeager intensity than did John Jarwin search for that lost tobacco. Heremained under water until he became purple in the face, and, coming tothe surface after each dive, stayed only long enough to recharge hislungs with air. How deeply he regretted at that time the fact thatman's life depended on so frequent and regular a supply of atmosphericair! How enviously he glanced at the fish which, with open eyes andmouths, appeared to regard him with inexpressible astonishment--as wellthey might! At last Jarwin's powers of endurance began to give way, andhe was compelled to return to the shore, to the great relief of Cuffy,which miserable dog, if it had possessed the smallest amount ofreasoning power, must have deemed its master hopelessly insane.
"But why so much ado about a piece of tobacco?" we hear some lady-readeror non-smoker exclaim.
Just because our hero was, and had been since his childhood, aninveterate smoker. Of course we cannot prove our opinion to be correct,but we are inclined to believe that if all the smoke that had
issuedfrom Jarwin's lips, from the period of his commencing down to thatterrible day when he lost his last plug, could have been collected inone vast cloud, it would have been sufficient to have kept a factorychimney going for a month or six weeks. The poor man knew his weakness.He had several times tried to get rid of the habit which had enslavedhim, and, by failing, had come to know the tyrannical power of hismaster. He had once been compelled by circumstances to forego hisfavourite indulgence for three entire days, and retained so vivid arecollection of his sufferings that he made up his mind never more tostrive for freedom, but to enjoy his pipe as long as he lived--to swimwith the current, in fact, and take it easy. It was of no use thatseveral men, who objected to smoking from principle, and had themselvesgone through the struggle and come off victorious, pointed out that ifhe went on at his present rate, it would cut short his life. Jarwindidn't believe _that_. He _felt_ well and hearty, and said that he "wastoo tough, by a long way, to be floored by baccy; besides, if his lifewas to be short, he saw no reason why it should not be a pleasant one."It was vain for these disagreeable men of principle to urge that whenhis health began to give way he would not find life very pleasant, andthen "baccy" would fail to relieve him. Stuff and nonsense? Did notJarwin know that hundreds of thousands of _old_ men enjoyed their pipesto the very last. He also knew that a great many men had filled earlygraves owing to the use of tobacco, but he chose to shut his eyes tothis fact--moreover, although a great truth, it was a difficult truth toprove.
It was of still less use that those tiresome men of principledemonstrated that the money spent in tobacco would, if accumulated, forma snug little fortune to retire upon in his old age. John only laughedat this. "Wot did he want with a fortin in his old age," he would say;"he would rather work to the last for his three B's--his bread and beerand baccy--an' die in harness. A man couldn't get on like a man withoutthem three B's, and he wosn't goin' for to deprive hisself of none of'em, not he; besides, his opponents were bad argifiers," he was wont tosay, with a chuckle, "for if, as they said, baccy would be the means ofcuttin' his life short, why then, he wouldn't never come to old age touse his fortin, even if he _should_ manage to save it off his baccy."
This last argument always brought Jarwin off with flying colours--nowonder, for it was unanswerable; and thus he came to love his beer andbaccy so much that he became thoroughly enslaved to both.
His brief residence on the south-sea island had taught him, by painfulexperience, that he _was_ capable of existing without at least two ofhis three B's--bread and beer. He had suffered somewhat from the changeof diet; and now that his third B was thus suddenly, unexpectedly, andhopelessly wrenched from him, he sat himself down on the beach besideCuffy, and gazed out to sea in absolute despair.
We must guard the reader at this point from supposing that John Jarwinhad ever been what is called an intemperate man. He was one of thosehonest, straightforward tars who do their duty like men, and who,although extremely fond of their pipe and their glass of grog, neverlower themselves below the level of the brutes by getting drunk. At thesame time, we feel constrained to add that Jarwin acted entirely fromimpulse and kindly feeling. He had little to do with principle, and didnot draw towards those who professed to be thus guided. He was wont tosay that they "was troublesome fellers, always shovin' in their oarswhen they weren't wanted to, an' settin' themselves up for better thaneverybody else." Had one of those troublesome fellows presented JohnJarwin with a pound of tobacco in his forlorn circumstances, at thattime he would probably have slapped him on the shoulder, and called himone of the best fellows under the sun!
"Cuffy, my friend," exclaimed Jarwin at last, with an explosive sigh,"all the baccy's gone, so we'll have to smoke sea-weed for the futur'."The terrier said "Bow-wow" to this, cocked its ears, and looked earnest,as if waiting for more.
"Come along," exclaimed the man, overturning his dog as he leaped up,"we'll go home and have summat to eat."
Jarwin had erected a rude hut, composed of boughs and turf, near thefountain where he had first landed. It was the home to which hereferred. At first he had devoted himself entirely to the erection ofthis shelter, and to collecting various roots and fruits and shell-fishfor food, intending to delay the examination of the island until hisstrength should be sufficiently restored to enable him to scale theheights without more than ordinary fatigue. He had been so farrecruited as to have fixed for his expedition the day following that onwhich he sustained his irreparable loss.
Entering his hut he proceeded to kindle a fire by means of a smallburning-glass, with which, in happier times, he had been wont to lighthis pipe. Very soon he had several roots, resembling small potatoes,baking in the hot ashes. With these, a handful of plums, a dozen ofoyster-like fish, of which there were plenty on the shore, and a draughtof clear cold water, he made a hearty repast, Cuffy coming in for alarge share of it, as a matter of course. Then he turned all hispockets inside out, and examined them as carefully as if diamonds lurkedin the seams. No, not a speck of tobacco was to be found! He smeltthem. The odour was undoubtedly strong--very strong. On the strengthof it he shut his eyes, and endeavoured to think that he was smoking;but it was a weak substitute for the pipe, and not at all satisfying.Thereafter he sallied forth and wandered about the sea-shore in amiserable condition, and went to bed that night--as he remarked to hisdog--in the blues.
Reader, it is not possible to give you an adequate conception of thesensations and sufferings of John Jarwin on that first night of hisbereaved condition. He dreamed continuously of tobacco. Now he waspacing the deck of his old ship with a splendid pipe of cut Cavendishbetween his lips. Anon he was smoking a meerschaum the size of ahogshead, with a stem equal to the length and thickness of themain-topmast of a seventy-four; but somehow the meerschaum wouldn'tdraw, whereupon John, in a passion, pronounced it worthy of its name,and hove it overboard, when it was instantly transformed into a sharkwith a cutty pipe in its mouth. To console himself our hero endeavouredto thrust into his mouth a quid of negro-head, which, however, suddenlygrew as big as the cabin-skylight, and became as tough as gutta-percha,so that it was utterly impossible to bite off a piece; and, strangerstill, when the poor sailor had by struggling got it in, it dwindleddown into a point so small that he could not feel it in his mouth atall. On reaching this, the vanishing-point, Jarwin awoke to aconsciousness of the dread reality of his destitute condition. Turningon his other side with a deep groan, he fell asleep again, to dream oftobacco in some new and tantalising form until sunrise, when he awokeunrefreshed. Leaping up, he cast off his clothes, rushed down thebeach, and plunged into sea, by way of relieving his feelings.
During the day John Jarwin brooded much over his dreams, for his mindwas of a reflective turn, and Cuffy looked often inquiringly into hisface. That sympathetic doggie would evidently have besought him to pourhis sorrows into his cocked ears if he could have spoken; but--alas! forpeople who are cast away on desert islands--the gift of speech has beendenied to dogs.
Besides being moody, Jarwin was uncommonly taciturn that day. He didnot tell Cuffy the result of his cogitations, so that we cannot sayanything further about them. All that we are certainly sure of is, thathe was profoundly miserable that day--that he postponed his intendedexpedition to the top of the neighbouring hill--that he walked about thebeach slowly, with his chin on his breast and his hands in his pockets--that he made various unsuccessful attempts to smoke dried leaves, andbark, and wild-flowers, mixing with those substances shreds of histrousers' pockets, in order that they might have at least the flavour oftobacco--that he became more and more restive as the day wore on, becamemore submissive in the evening, paid a few apologetic attentions toCuffy at supper-time, and, finally, went to bed in a better frame ofmind, though still craving painfully for the weed which had enslavedhim. That night his dreams were still of tobacco! No lover was everassailed more violently with dreams of his absent mistress than was JohnJarwin with longings for his adorable pipe. But there was no hope forh
im--the beloved one was effectually and permanently gone; so, like asensible man, he awoke next morning with a stern resolve to submit tohis fate with a good grace.
In pursuance of this resolution he began the day with a cold bath, inwhich Cuffy joined him. Then he breakfasted on chestnuts, plums,citrons, oysters, and shrimps, the former of which abounded in thewoods, the latter on the shore. Jarwin caught the shrimps in a net,extemporised out of his pocket-handkerchief. While engaged with hismorning meal, he was earnestly watched by several green paroquets withblue heads and crimson breasts; and during pauses in the meal heobserved flocks of brightly-coloured doves and wood-pigeons, besidesmany other kinds of birds, the names of which he did not know, as wellas water-hens, plover, and wild ducks.
"Lost your appetite this morning, Cuff?" said Jarwin, offering hiscompanion a citron, which he decidedly refused. "Ah!" he continued,patting the dog's sides, "I see how it is; you've had breakfast alreadythis morning; bin at it when I was a-sleepin'. For shame, Cuffy!--youshould have waited for me; an' you've bin an' over-ate yourself again,you greedy dog!"
This was evidently the case. The guilty creature, forgetful of its pastexperiences, had again gorged itself with dead fish, which it had foundon the beach, and looked miserable.
"Well, never mind, doggie," said Jarwin, finishing his meal, and rising."I'll give you a little exercise to-day for the good of your health.We shan't go sulking as we did yesterday; so, come along."
The sailor left his bower as he spoke, and set off at a round pace withhis hands in his pockets, and a thick stick under his arm, whistling ashe went, while Cuffy followed lovingly at his heels.
Jarwin and Cuffy Page 2
