CHAPTER EIGHT.
DESPAIR IS FOLLOWED BY SURPRISES AND DELIVERANCE.
At first John Jarwin could not quite realise his true position afterleaving Raratonga. The excitement consequent on the whole affairremained for some time on his mind, causing him to feel as if it were adream, and it was not until he had fairly landed again on Big Chief'sisland, and returned to his own little hut there, and had met withCuffy--whose demonstrations of intense delight cannot by any possibilitybe described--that he came fully to understand the value of theopportunity which he had let slip through his fingers.
Poor Jarwin! words fail to convey a correct idea of the depth of hisdespair, for now he saw clearly, as he thought, that perpetual slaverywas his doom. Under the influence of the feelings that overwhelmed himhe became savage.
"Cuff," said he, on the afternoon of the day of his return, "it's all upwith you and me, old chap."
The tone in which this was uttered was so stern that the terrier droopedits ears, lowered its tail, and looked up with an expression that wasequivalent to "Don't kick me, _please_ don't!"
Jarwin smiled a grim yet a pitiful smile as he looked at the dog.
"Yes, it's all up with us," he continued; "we shall live and die inslavery; wot a fool I was not to cut and run when I had the chance!"
The remembrance of "honour bright" flashed upon him here, but he wasstill savage, and therefore doggedly shut his eyes to it.
At this point a message was brought to him from Big Chief requesting hisattendance in the royal hut. Jarwin turned angrily on the messenger andbid him begone in a voice of thunder, at the same time intimating, by amotion of his foot, that if he did not obey smartly, he would quickenhis motions for him. The messenger vanished, and Jarwin sat down besideCuffy--who looked excessively humble--and vented his feelings thus--
"I can't stand it no longer Cuff. I _won't_ stand it! I'm goin' tobust up, I am; so look out for squalls."
A feeling of uncertainty as to the best method of "busting up" inducedhim to clutch his hair with both hands, and snort. It must not besupposed that our hero gave way to such rebellious feelings withimpunity. On the contrary, his conscience pricked him to such an extentthat it felt like an internal pin-cushion or hedgehog. While he wasstill holding fast to his locks in meditative uncertainty, three nativesappeared at the entrance of his hut, and announced that they had beensent by Big Chief to take him to the royal hut by force, in case heshould refuse to go peaceably.
Uttering a shout of defiance, the exasperated man sprang up and rushedat the natives, who, much too wise to await the onset, fled in threedifferent directions. Instead of pursuing any of them, Jarwin wentstraight to his master's hut, where he found him seated on a couch ofnative cloth. Striding up to him he clenched his fist, and holding itup in a threatening manner, exclaimed--
"Now look 'ee here, Big Chief--which it would be big thief if 'ee hadyer right name--I ain't goin' to stand this sort o' thing no longer. Ikep' my word to you all the time we wos at Raratonga, but now I'll keepit no longer. I'll do my best to cut the cable and make sail the weryfirst chance I gits--so I give 'ee fair warnin'."
Big Chief made no reply for some moments, but opened his eyes with suchan intense expression of unaffected amazement, that Jarwin's wrathabated, in spite of his careful nursing of it to keep it warm.
"Jowin," he exclaimed at length, "you Christian Breetish tar, have yourdibbil got into you?"
This question effectually routed Jarwin's anger. He knew that thesavage, to whom he had spoken at various times on the subject of satanicinfluence, was perfectly sincere in his inquiry, as well as in hisastonishment. Moreover, he himself felt surprised that Big Chief, whowas noted for his readiness to resent insult, should have submitted tohis angry tones and looks and threatening manner without the slightestevidence of indignation. The two men therefore stood looking at eachother in silent surprise for a few moments.
"Big Chief," said Jarwin at last, bringing his right fist down heavilyinto his left palm, by way of emphasis, "there's no dibbil, as you callhim, got possession o' me. My own spirit is dibbil enough, I find, toaccount for all that I've said and done--an' a great deal more. But it_has_ bin hard on me to see the door open, as it were, an' not takeadwantage of it. Howsever, it's all over now, an' I ax yer parding.I'll not mutiny again. You've been a kind feller to me, old chap--though you _are_ a savage--an' I ain't on-grateful; as long as I'm yourslave I'll do my duty--`honour bright;' at the same time I think it fairan' above board to let you know that I'll make my escape from you when Igit the chance. I'm bound for to sarve you while I eat your wittles,but I am free to go if I can manage it. There--you may roast me alivean' eat me, if you like, but you can't say, after this, that I'm sailin'under false colours."
During this speech a variety of expressions affected the countenance ofBig Chief, but that of melancholy predominated.
"Jowin," he said, slowly, "I like you."
"You're a good-hearted old buffer," said Jarwin, grasping the Chief'shand, and squeezing it; "to say the truth, I'm wery fond o' yourself,but it's nat'ral that I should like my freedom better."
Big Chief pondered this for some time, and shook his head slowly, as ifthe result of his meditation was not satisfactory.
"Jowin," he resumed, after a pause, "sing me a song."
"Well, you _are_ a queer codger," said Jarwin, laughing in spite ofhimself; "if ever there was a man as didn't feel up to singin', that'sme at this moment. Howsomedever, I 'spose it must be done. Wot'll you'ave? `Ben Bolt,' `Black-eyed Susan,' `The Jolly Young Waterman,' `JimCrow,' `There is a Happy Land,' or the `Old Hundred,' eh? Only say theword, an' I'll turn on the steam."
Big Chief made no reply. As he appeared to be lost in meditation,Jarwin sat down, and in a species of desperation, began to bellow withall the strength of his lungs one of those nautical ditties with whichseamen are wont to enliven the movements of the windlass or the capstan.He changed the tune several times, and at length slid gradually into amore gentle and melodious vein of song, while Big Chief listened withevident pleasure. Still there was perceptible to Jarwin a dash ofsadness in his master's countenance which he had never seen before.Wondering at this, and changing his tunes to suit his own varying moods,he gradually came to plaintive songs, and then to psalms and hymns.
At last Big Chief seemed satisfied, and bade his slave good-night.
"He's a wonderful c'racter," remarked Jarwin to Cuffy, as he lay down torest that night, "a most onaccountable sort o' man. There's sumthin'workin' in 'is 'ead; tho' wot it may be is more nor I can tell. P'rapshe's agoin' to spiflicate me, in consikence o' my impidence. If so,Cuff, whatever will became o' you, my poor little doggie!"
Cuffy nestled very close to his master's side at this point, and whinedin a pitiful tone, as if he really understood the purport of hisremarks. In five minutes more he was giving vent to occasional mildlittle whines and half barks, indicating that he was in the land ofdreams, and Jarwin's nose was creating sounds which told that its ownerhad reached that blessed asylum of the weary--oblivion.
Next day our sailor awakened to the consciousness of the fact that thesun was shining brightly, that paroquets were chattering gaily, thatCuffy was still sleeping soundly, and that the subjects of Big Chiefwere making an unusual uproar outside.
Starting up, and pulling on a pair of remarkably ancient canvastrousers, which his master had graciously permitted him to retain andwear, Jarwin looked out at the door of his hut and became aware of thefact that the whole tribe was assembled in the spot where national"palavers" were wont to be held. The "House" appeared to be engaged atthe time in the discussion of some exceedingly knotty question--a sortof national education bill, or church endowment scheme--for there wasgreat excitement, much gesticulation, and very loud talk, accompaniedwith not a little angry demonstration on the part of the disputants.
"Hallo! wot's up?" inquired Jarwin of a stout savage who stood at hisdoor armed with a club, on the head of which human teeth
formed aconspicuous ornament.
"Palaver," replied the savage.
"It's easy to hear and see that," replied Jarwin, "but wot is it allabout?"
The savage vouchsafed no farther reply, but continued to march up anddown in front of the hut.
Jarwin, therefore, essayed to quit his abode, but was stopped by thetaciturn savage, who said that he must consider himself a prisoner untilthe palaver had come to an end. He was therefore fain to contenthimself with standing at his door and watching the gesticulations of themembers of council.
Big Chief was there of course, and appeared to take a prominent part inthe proceedings. But there were other chiefs of the tribe whoseopinions had much weight, though they were inferior to him in position.At last they appeared to agree, and finally, with a loud shout, thewhole band rushed off in the direction of the temple where their idolswere kept.
Jarwin's guard had manifested intense excitement during the closingscene, and when this last act took place he threw down his club, forsookhis post, and followed his comrades. Of course Jarwin availed himselfof the opportunity, and went to see what was being done.
To his great surprise he found that the temple was being dismantled,while the idols were carried down to the palaver-ground, if we may socall it, and thrown into a heap there with marks of indignity andcontempt.
Knowing, as he did, the superstitious reverence with which the nativesregarded their idols, Jarwin beheld this state of things with intenseamazement, and he looked on with increasing interest, hoping, ere long,to discover some clue to the mystery, but his hopes were disappointed,for Big Chief caught sight of him and sternly ordered him back to hishut, where another guard was placed over him. This guard was morestrict than the previous one had been. He would not allow his prisonereven to look on at what was taking place.
Under the circumstances, there was therefore nothing for it but to fallback on philosophic meditation and converse with Cuffy. These wererather poor resources, however, to a man who was surrounded by a tribeof excited savages. Despite his natural courage and coolness, Jarwinfelt, as he said himself, "raither oncomfortable."
Towards the afternoon things became a little more quiet, still no noticewas taken of our hero save that his meals were sent to him from theChief's hut. He wondered at this greatly, for nothing of the kind hadever happened before, and he began to entertain vague suspicions thatsuch treatment might possibly be the prelude to evil of some kindbefalling him. He questioned his guard several times, but thatfunctionary told him that Big Chief had bidden him refuse to holdconverse with him on any subject whatever.
Being, as the reader knows, a practical, matter-of-fact sort of man, ourhero at last resigned himself to his fate, whatever that might be, andbeguiled the time by making many shrewd remarks and observations toCuffy. When the afternoon meal was brought to him, he heaved a deepsigh, and apparently, with that effort flung off all his anxieties.
"Come along, Cuff," he said in a hearty voice, sitting down to dinner,"let's grub together an' be thankful for small mercies, anyhow. Woteverturns up, you and I shall go halves and stick by one another to thelast. Not that I have any doubts of Big Chief, Cuffy; you mustn'tsuppose that; but then, you see, he ain't the only chief in the island,and if all the rest was to go agin him, _he_ couldn't do much to saveus."
The dog of course replied in its usual facetious manner with eyes andtail, and sat down with its ears cocked and its head turned expectantlyon one side, while the sailor removed the palm-leaf covering of thebasket which contained the provisions sent to him.
"Wot have we here, Cuffy?" he said soliloquising and looking earnestlyin; "let me see; bit of baked pig--good, Cuff, good; that's the stuff tomake us fat. Wot next? Roast fish--that's not bad, Cuff--not bad,though hardly equal to the pig. Here we have a leaf full of plantainsand another of yams,--excellent grub that, my doggie, nothing could bebetter. What's this? Cocoanut full of its own milk--the best o' drink;`it cheers'--as the old song, or the old poet says--`but it don'tinebriate;' that wos said in regard to tea, you know, but it holds goodin respect of cocoanut milk, and it's far better than grog, Cuffy; farbetter, though you can't know nothin' about that, but you may take myword for it; happy is the man as drinks nothin' stronger than cocoanutmilk or tea. Hallo! wot's this--plums? Why, doggie, they're oncommongood to us to-day. I wonder wot's up. I say--" Jarwin paused as hedrew the last dish out of the prolific basket, and looked earnestly athis dog while he laid it down, "I say, what if they should have taken itinto their heads to fatten us up before killin' us? That's not a weryagreeable notion, is it, eh?"
Apparently Cuffy was of the same opinion, for he did not wag even thepoint of his tail, and there was something dubious in the glance of hiseye as he waited for more.
"Well, well, it ain't no use surmisin'," observed the seaman, withanother sigh, "wot we've got for to do just now is to eat our wittlesan' hope for the best. Here you are, Cuff--catch!"
Throwing a lump of baked pig to his dog, the worthy man fell to with akeen appetite, and gave himself no further anxiety as to the probable orpossible events of the future.
Dinner concluded, he would fain have gone out for a ramble on theshore--as he had been wont to do in time past--but his gaoler forbadehim to quit the hut. He was therefore about to console himself with asiesta, when an unexpected order came from Big Chief, requiring hisimmediate attendance in the royal hut. Jarwin at once obeyed themandate, and in a few minutes stood before his master, who was seated ona raised couch, enjoying a cup of cocoanut milk.
"I have send for you," began Big Chief with solemnity, "to have apalaver. Sit down, you Breetish tar."
"All right, old chap," replied Jarwin, seating himself on a stoolopposite to his master. "Wot is it to be about?"
"Jowin," rejoined Big Chief, with deepening gravity, "you's bin welltreated here."
Big Chief spoke in broken English now, having picked it up with amazingfacility from his white slave.
"Well, y-e-es, I'm free to confess that I _has_ bin well treated--barrin' the fact that my liberty's bin took away; besides which, some ofyour black rascals ain't quite so civil as they might be, but on thewhole, I've been well treated; anyhow I never received nothin' butkindness from _you_, old codger."
He extended his hand frankly, and Big Chief, who had been taught themeaning of our English method of salutation, grasped it warmly and shookit with such vigour that he would certainly have discomposed Jarwin hadthat "Breetish tar" been a less powerful man. He performed thisceremony with the utmost sadness, however, and continued to shake hishead in such a melancholy way that his white slave began to feel quiteanxious about him.
"Hallo! old feller, you ain't bin took bad, have 'ee?"
Big Chief made no reply, but continued to shake his head slowly; then,as if a sudden idea had occurred to him, he rose, and, grasping Jarwinby his whiskers with both hands, rubbed noses with him, after which heresumed his seat on the couch.
"Just so," observed our hero with a smile, "you shake hands with meEnglish fashion--I rub noses with you South-Sea fashion. Give an' take;all right, old codger--`may our friendship last for ever,' as the oldsong puts it. But wot about this here palaver you spoke of? It warn'tmerely to rub our beaks together that you sent for me, I fancy. Is it asong you wants, or a hymn? Only say the word, and I'm your man."
"I s'pose," said Big Chief, using, of course, Jarwin's sea phraseology,only still farther broken, "you'd up ankar an' make sail most quick ifyou could, eh?"
"Well, although I _has_ a likin' for you, old man," replied the sailor,"I can't but feel a sort o' preference, d'ee see, for my own wife an'child'n. There_fore_ I _would_ cut my cable, if I had the chance."
"Kite right, kite right," replied Big Chief, with a deep sigh, "you sayit am nat'ral. Good, good, so 'tis. Now, Jowin," continued the savagechief, with intense earnestness, "you's free to go when you pleases."
"Oh, gammon!" replied Jarwin, with an unbelieving grin.
"Wot _is_ gammon?"
demanded Big Chief, with a somewhat disappointedlook.
"Well, it don't matter what it means--it's nothin' or nonsense, if youlike--but wot do _you_ mean, old man, `that's the rub,' as Hamblet, orsome such c'racter, said to his father-in-law; you ain't in airnest, areyou?"
"Jowin," answered the Chief, with immovable gravity, "I not onderstan'you. Wot you mean by airnest?" He did not wait for a reply, however,but seizing Jarwin by the wrist, and looking into his eyes with anexpression of child-like earnestness that effectually solemnised hiswhite slave, continued, "Lissen, onderstan' me. I is a Christian. Mybroder chiefs an' I have watch you many days. You have always do wot isright, no matter wot trouble follers to you. You do this for love ofyour God, your Saviour, so you tells me. Good, I do not need muchpalaver. Wen de sun shines it am hot; wen not shine am cold. Wot more?Cookee missionary have _say_ the truth. My slave have _prove_ thetruth. I love you, Jowin. I love your God. I keep you if possible,but Christian must not have slave. Go--you is free."
"You don't mean _that_, old man?" cried Jarwin, starting up withflashing eyes and seizing his master's hand.
"You is free!" repeated Big Chief.
We need not relate all that honest John Jarwin said and did after that.Let it suffice to record his closing remarks that night to Cuffy.
"Cuff," said he, patting the shaggy head of his humble friend, "many astrange thing crops up in this here koorious world, but it never didoccur to my mind before, that while a larned man like a missionary might_state_ the truth, the likes o' me should have the chance an' the powerto _prove_ it. That's a wery koorious fact, so you an' I shall go tosleep on it, my doggie--good-night."
Jarwin and Cuffy Page 8
