CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
STRANGE PECULIARITY OF THE TIDES--ALSO OF THE TWILIGHT--PETERKIN'SREMARKABLE CONDUCT IN EMBRACING A LITTLE PIG AND KILLING A BIG SOW--SAGEREMARKS ON JESTING--ALSO ON LOVE.
It was quite a relief to us to breathe the pure air and to enjoy theglad sunshine after our long ramble in the Diamond Cave, as we named it;for although we did not stay more than half-an-hour away, it seemed tous much longer. While we were dressing, and during our walk home, wedid our best to satisfy the curiosity of poor Peterkin, who seemed toregret, with lively sincerity, his inability to dive.
There was no help for it, however, so we condoled with him as we bestcould. Had there been any great rise or fall in the tide of these seas,we might perhaps have found it possible to take him down with us at lowwater; but as the tide never rose or fell more than eighteen inches ortwo feet, this was impossible.
This peculiarity of the tide--its slight rise and fall--had notattracted our observation till some time after our residence on theisland. Neither had we observed another curious circumstance until wehad been some time there. This was the fact that the tide rose and fellwith constant regularity, instead of being affected by the changes ofthe moon as in our own country, and as it is in most other parts of theworld--at least, in all those parts with which I am acquainted. Everyday and every night, at twelve o'clock precisely, the tide is at thefull; and at six o'clock, every morning and evening, it is ebb. I canspeak with much confidence on this singular circumstance, as we tookparticular note of it, and never found it to alter. Of course I mustadmit we had to guess the hour of twelve midnight, and I think we coulddo this pretty correctly; but in regard to twelve noon we are quitepositive, because we easily found the highest point that the sun reachedin the sky by placing ourselves at a certain spot whence we observed thesharp summit of a cliff resting against the sky, just where the sunpassed.
Jack and I were surprised that we had not noticed this the first fewdays of our residence here, and could only account for it by our beingso much taken up with the more obvious wonders of our novel situation.I have since learned, however, that this want of observation is a sadand very common infirmity of human nature, there being hundreds ofpersons before whose eyes the most wonderful things are passing everyday who nevertheless, are totally ignorant of them. I therefore have torecord my sympathy with such persons, and to recommend to them a courseof conduct which I have now for a long time myself adopted--namely, thehabit of forcing my attention upon all things that go on around me, andof taking some degree of interest in them whether I feel it naturally ornot. I suggest this the more earnestly, though humbly, because I havevery frequently come to know that my indifference to a thing hasgenerally been caused by my ignorance in regard to it.
We had much serious conversation on this subject of the tides; and Jacktold us, in his own quiet, philosophical way, that these tides did greatgood to the world in many ways, particularly in the way of cleansing theshores of the land, and carrying off the filth that was constantlypoured into the sea therefrom--which, Peterkin suggested, was remarkablytidy of it to do. Poor Peterkin could never let slip an opportunity tojoke, however inopportune it might be, which at first we found rather adisagreeable propensity, as it often interrupted the flow of veryagreeable conversation--and, indeed, I cannot too strongly record mydisapprobation of this tendency in general; but we became so used to itat last that we found it no interruption whatever. Indeed, strange tosay, we came to feel that it was a necessary part of our enjoyment (suchis the force of habit), and found the sudden outbursts of mirth,resulting from his humorous disposition, quite natural and refreshing tous in the midst of our more serious conversations. But I must notmisrepresent Peterkin. We often found, to our surprise, that he knewmany things which we did not; and I also observed that those thingswhich he learned from experience were never forgotten. From all thesethings I came at length to understand that things very opposite anddissimilar in themselves, when united, do make an agreeable whole; as,for example, we three on this our island, although most unlike in manythings, when united, made a trio so harmonious that I question if thereever met before such an agreeable triumvirate. There was, indeed, nonote of discord whatever in the symphony we played together on thatsweet Coral Island; and I am now persuaded that this was owing to ourhaving been all tuned to the same key--namely, that of _love_! Yes, weloved one another with much fervency while we lived on that island; and,for the matter of that, we love each other still.
And while I am on this subject, or rather the subject that just precededit--namely, the tides--I may here remark on another curious naturalphenomenon. We found that there was little or no twilight in thisisland. We had a distinct remembrance of the charming long twilight athome, which some people think the most delightful part of the day--though, for my part, I have always preferred sunrise; and when we firstlanded, we used to sit down on some rocky point or eminence, at theclose of our day's work, to enjoy the evening breeze, but no sooner hadthe sun sunk below the horizon than all became suddenly dark. Thisrendered it necessary that we should watch the sun when we happened tobe out hunting; for to be suddenly left in the dark while in the woodswas very perplexing, as, although the stars shone with great beauty andbrilliancy, they could not pierce through the thick umbrageous boughsthat interlaced above our heads.
But to return. After having told all we could to Peterkin about theDiamond Cave under Spouting Cliff, as we named the locality, we werewending our way rapidly homewards when a grunt and a squeal were bornedown by the land breeze to our ears.
"That's the ticket!" was Peterkin's remarkable exclamation as he startedconvulsively and levelled his spear.
"Hist!" cried Jack; "these are your friends, Peterkin. They must havecome over expressly to pay you a friendly visit, for it is the firsttime we have seen them on this side of the island."
"Come along!" cried Peterkin, hurrying towards the wood; while Jack andI followed, smiling at his impatience.
Another grunt and half-a-dozen squeals, much louder than before, camedown the valley. At this time we were just opposite the small valewhich lay between the Valley of the Wreck and Spouting Cliff.
"I say, Peterkin!" cried Jack in a hoarse whisper.
"Well, what is't?"
"Stay a bit, man! These grunters are just up there on the hillside. Ifyou go and stand with Ralph in the lee of yon cliff I'll cut roundbehind and drive them through the gorge, so that you'll have a betterchance of picking out a good one. Now, mind you pitch into a fat youngpig, Peterkin!" added Jack as he sprang into the bushes.
"Won't I, just!" said Peterkin, licking his lips, as we took our stationbeside the cliff. "I feel quite a tender affection for young pigs in myheart. Perhaps it would be more correct to say in my tum--"
"There they come!" cried I as a terrific yell from Jack sent the wholeherd screaming down the hill. Now Peterkin, being unable to hold back,crept a short way up a very steep grassy mound in order to get a betterview of the hogs before they came up; and just as he raised his headabove its summit, two little pigs, which had outrun their companions,rushed over the top with the utmost precipitation. One of these brushedclose past Peterkin's ear; the other, unable to arrest its headlongflight, went, as Peterkin himself afterwards expressed it, `bash' intohis arms with a sudden squeal, which was caused more by the force of theblow than the will of the animal, and both of them rolled violently downto the foot of the mound. No sooner was this reached than the littlepig recovered its feet, tossed up its tail, and fled shrieking from thespot. But I slung a large stone after it, which, being fortunately wellaimed, hit it behind the ear and felled it to the earth.
"Capital, Ralph! that's your sort!" cried Peterkin, who, to my surpriseand great relief, had risen to his feet apparently unhurt, though muchdishevelled. He rushed frantically towards the gorge, which the yellsof the hogs told us they were now approaching. I had made up my mindthat I would abstain from killing another, as, if Peterkin should besuccessful, two were more
than sufficient for our wants at the presenttime. Suddenly they all burst forth--two or three little round ones inadvance, and an enormous old sow with a drove of hogs at her heels.
"Now, Peterkin," said I, "there's a nice little fat one; just spear it."
But Peterkin did not move; he allowed it to pass unharmed. I looked athim in surprise, and saw that his lips were compressed and his eyebrowsknitted, as if he were about to fight with some awful enemy.
"What is it?" I inquired with some trepidation.
Suddenly he levelled his spear, darted forward, and with a yell thatnearly froze the blood in my veins, stabbed the old sow to the heart.Nay, so vigorously was it done that the spear went in at one side andcame out at the other!
"Oh Peterkin!" said I, going up to him, "what have you done?"
"Done? I've killed their great-great-grandmother, that's all," said he,looking with a somewhat awestruck expression at the transfixed animal.
"Hallo! what's this?" said Jack as he came up. "Why, Peterkin, you mustbe fond of a tough chop. If you mean to eat this old hog, she'll tryyour jaws, I warrant. What possessed you to stick _her_, Peterkin?"
"Why, the fact is, I want a pair of shoes."
"What have your shoes to do with the old hog?" said I, smiling.
"My present shoes have certainly nothing to do with her," repliedPeterkin; "nevertheless, she will have a good deal to do with my futureshoes. The fact is, when I saw you floor that pig so neatly, Ralph, itstruck me that there was little use in killing another. Then Iremembered all at once that I had long wanted some leather or toughsubstance to make shoes of, and this old grandmother seemed so toughthat I just made up my mind to stick her--and you see I've done it!"
"That you certainly have, Peterkin," said Jack as he was examining thetransfixed animal.
We now considered how we were to carry our game home, for, although thedistance was short, the hog was very heavy. At length we hit on theplan of tying its four feet together, and passing the spear-handlebetween them. Jack took one end on his shoulder, I took the other onmine, and Peterkin carried the small pig.
Thus we returned in triumph to our bower, laden, as Peterkin remarked,with the glorious spoils of a noble hunt. As he afterwards spoke insimilarly glowing terms in reference to the supper that followed, thereis every reason to believe that we retired that night to our leafy bedsin a high state of satisfaction.
The Coral Island Page 14
