The Island of Gold: A Sailor's Yarn

by Anonymous

Halcott ran on board the hulk, I do not think he knew quite what hewas doing or saying. He seemed beside himself with joy.

  "Oh, live, brother James! live! Do not die and leave us now that oursafety is assured. The savages have fled, they will never return.Live, brother, live?"

  "Oh, live, poor uncle! live!" cried Nelda; "live for _my_ sake, dearuncle!"

  Tandy was the next to rush on board, and his first act was to catch hislittle daughter up, cover her face with kisses, and press her to hisbreast.

  "And now, Halcott," he cried at last, "there is just one more shot inthe big gun. Come, let us drag her to the cliff. If I can sink but asingle boat, I shall be satisfied."

  But the dying man lifted his hand, and Halcott and Tandy both drew near.

  "No, brothers, no," he murmured. "Fire not the gun--the battle is theLord's. He alone--hath given us the victory."

  And the men knelt there, with bent heads, as if ashamed of the deed theyhad been about to commit.

  Ah! but the tears were flowing fast from their eyes. Poor James wasdead!

  Book 3--CHAPTER TWELVE.

  LEAVES FROM FIRST MATE TANDY'S LOG.

  Like all the other dead, poor James Malone received the honours of asailor's burial on the very next day.

  But, unlike the rest, he was not slipped over the cliff.

  On the contrary, Halcott determined he should rest far out in the blue,lone sea, where nothing might disturb his rest until "the crack ofdoom." The last words were those of Halcott himself.

  So the lightest boat was dragged all the way to the beach, and there,with the body sewn up in a hammock and covered with a red flag, it waslaunched.

  There had been no return of the earthquake, but all the previous nightflames and smoke had issued from Fire Hill, and no one doubted that aneruption on a vast scale was imminent. There was, however, no danger inleaving little Nelda and her brother alone in the hulk with Janeira andChips--who was already able to walk--for the savages were far away,indeed, by this time. So Tandy accompanied Halcott, and with them wentthe others--only five in all.

  Not a word was spoken until the boat was beyond the bay and in very deepwater.

  "Way enough!" cried Halcott. "In oars!"

  All sat there with bent, uncovered heads while the captain read theservice; but his voice was choked with emotion, and when the shottedhammock took the water with a melancholy boom and disappeared, he closedthe book. He could say no more for a time.

  As a rule seafarers are not orators, though what they do say isgenerally to the point.

  Halcott sat for fully a minute like one in a trance, gazing silently andreverently at the spot where the body had disappeared.

  The bubbles had soon ceased to rise, and there was nothing now to markthe sailor's cemetery. Though--

  "He was the loved of all, Yet none on his low grave might weep."

  "My friends," said Halcott, "there in peace rests the body of my dearestfriend, my adopted brother. I never had a brother save him. How much Iloved him none can ever know. The world and the ship will be a dealmore lonesome to me now that James has gone. For many and many a longyear we sailed the seas together, and weathered many a gale and storm.Sound, sound may he sleep, while wind and waves shall sing his dirge.Unselfish was he to the end, and every inch a sailor. His last word was`Victory;' and well may we now add, `O death, where is thy sting? Ograve, where is thy victory?'

  "Out oars, men! Give way with a will!"

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  They reached the shore in safety, and drew up the boat high and dry.But none too soon; for, before they got on board once more, a terriblethunderstorm had come on, with lightning more vivid than any one on thehulk ever remembered.

  I have Tandy's log before me as I write, and I do not think I can dobetter than make a few extracts therefrom.

  "_The lost Barque, Sea Flower_.--On the rocks, in Treachery Bay, Isle ofMisfortune, latitude --, longitude --, August 5, 18--. Buried poorJames Malone to-day. Halcott terribly cut up. Doesn't seem to be thesame man. But we all miss James; he was so gentle, so kind, and true.We miss Fitz also. His merry ways and laughing face made him afavourite with us all. And honest Tom Wilson; we shall never again hearhis sweet music. Thank Heaven that, though the thunder is now rolling,the lightning flashing, and a rain that looks like mud falling, I havemy darlings both beside me! In the darkest hours I have ever spent inlife, I've always had something to comfort me. Yes, God is good.

  "The sun is setting. I never saw a sun look so lurid and red before.The thunder continues, but the rain has ceased. There are frequentsmart shocks of earthquake.

  "_August 8_.--Two awful days and nights have passed, and still we areall alive. The days have been days of darkness; the ashes and scoriaehave been falling constantly, and now lie an inch at least in depth uponour deck. Nights lit up by the flames that spout cloud-high from thevolcano, carrying with them rocks and stones and steam. There is aterribly mephitic vapour over everything. How long this may last Heavenalone can tell."

  "_August 12_.--Four more fearful days. The eruption continues withunabated horror--the thunderings, the lightnings, the showers of stonesand ashes, and the rolling clouds of dust through which, even at midday,the sun glares like a ball of crimson fire.

  "Poor Chips is dead; we buried him yesterday. More of us are ill.Halcott himself is depressed, and my wee Nelda cares for nothing savelying languidly on the sofa all day long. The thought that she may diehaunts me night and day."

  "_August 13_.--Almost at the last of our provisions. The biscuit isfinished; the very dust has been scraped up and eaten. Not more than ascore of tins of _soupe en bouille_ left in the ship, and about onegallon of rum. Served out to-day what remained of the salmon, and gavedouble allowance of rum to-night.

  "Not a green thing seems to be left on the island."

  "_August 15_.--Feel languid and weary. Went to prayers to-day. All ourhopes must now centre in the life to come; we have none for this."

  "_August 18_.--The strange crane lies trussed in a corner of the saloon.We force him to eat a little, and Bob sits near him and licks his face.

  "To-day Bob went off by himself. He was away for hours, and we thoughtwe should never see him again; but in the afternoon he returned, drivingbefore him five little black pigs. Thin and miserable are they, but agodsend nevertheless.

  "Lava pouring down the hill-side all night long, shimmering green, red,and orange through the sulphurous haze."

  "_August 20_.--Men more cheerful to-day. The clouds have cleared away,and we can see the sea, and the sun is less red.

  "Halcott and I climbed Observatory Hill. What a scene! The oncebeautiful island is burnt as it were to a cinder. Trees are scorched;all, all is dead. We could not bear to look at it. But we cut down theflag-pole, and brought away the ensign. They are useless now.

  "Who will be the next to die? `O Father,' I cry in my agony, `spare mylife while my little one lives, that I may minister to her till thelast! Then take my boy and me!'"

  "_August 22_.--Four bells in the middle-watch. I awoke an hour ago witha start. Halcott, too, had rushed into the saloon.

  "`Did you hear it?' he cried wildly.

  "Yes, I had heard.

  "The unusual sound awoke us all--the sound of a ship blowing off steamin the bay yonder, far beneath us. The sound of anchor chains rattlingout, the sound of voices--the voices of brave British sailors!

  "`Halcott! Halcott!' I cried; `we are saved!'

  "I'm sure I have been weeping. Nelda is on my knee at this moment whileI write, her cheek pressed close to mine. Oh, how good God has been tome! We have fired off guns, and raised our voices in a feeble cheer,and the people have replied.

  "It is no dream then.

  "Surely I am not mad!

  "Oh, will the morning never come? and will the sun never shine again?I--"

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  The log breaks off abruptly just here, and all that I have further tosay was gleaned from Halcott and Tandy themselves.

  The steamer, then, that had arrived so opportunely to save the fewunhappy survivors of the lost _Sea Flower_ was the trader _Borneo_. Thevery first to welcome them when they went on board at early dawn washonest Weathereye himself. He had a hand for Halcott and a hand forTandy--a heart for both.

  "God bless you!" he hastened to say. "Ah! do not tell me your sad storynow--no, never a bit of it. The _Dun Avon_ brought your letters, and Icould not rest till I came out.

  "But run below, Halcott; some one else wants to welcome you. You'll besurprised--"

  Halcott never knew rightly whether he had descended to the saloon onwings or on his feet, or whether he had jumped right down through