Blown to Bits: The Lonely Man of Rakata, the Malay Archipelago

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

  ADVENTURES OF THE "SUNSHINE" AND AN UNEXPECTED REUNION.

  We must request the reader to turn back now for a brief period to a verydifferent scene.

  A considerable time before the tremendous catastrophe described in thelast chapter--which we claim to have recorded without the slightestexaggeration, inasmuch as exaggeration were impossible--Captain DavidRoy, of the good brig _Sunshine_, received the letter which his sonwrote to him while in the jungles of Sumatra.

  The captain was seated in the back office of a Batavian merchant at thetime, smoking a long clay pipe--on the principle, no doubt, thatmoderate poisoning is conducive to moderate health!

  As he perused the letter, the captain's eyes slowly opened; so did hismouth, and the clay pipe, falling to the floor, was reduced to littlepieces. But the captain evidently cared nothing for that. He gaveforth a prolonged whistle, got up, smote upon his thigh, and exclaimedwith deep-toned emphasis--

  "The rascal!"

  Then he sat down again and re-perused the letter, with a variety ofexpression on his face that might have recalled the typical April day,minus the tears.

  "The rascal!" he repeated, as he finished the second reading of theletter and thrust it into his pocket. "I knew there was somethin' i'the wind wi' that little girl! The memory o' my own young days when Iboarded and captured the poetess is strong upon me yet. I saw it in therascal's eye the very first time they met--an' he thinks I'm as blind asa bat, I'll be bound, with his poetical reef-point-pattering sharpness.But it's a strange discovery he has made and must be looked into. Theyoung dog! He gives me orders as if he were the owner."

  Jumping up, Captain Roy hurried out into the street. In passing theouter office he left a message with one of the clerks for his friend themerchant.

  "Tell him," he said, "that I'll attend to that little business about thebill when I come back. I'm going to sail for the Keeling Islands thisafternoon."

  "The Keeling Islands?" exclaimed the clerk in surprise.

  "Yes--I've got business to do there. I'll be back, all bein' well, in aweek--more or less."

  The clerk's eyebrows remained in a raised position for a few moments,until he remembered that Captain Roy, being owner of his ship and cargo,was entitled to do what he pleased with his own and himself. Then theydescended, and he went on with his work, amusing himself with thethought that the most curious beings in the world were seafaring men.

  "Mr Moor," said the captain somewhat excitedly, as he reached the deckof his vessel, "are all the men aboard?"

  "All except Jim Sloper, sir."

  "Then send and hunt up Jim Sloper at once, for we sail this afternoonfor the Keeling Islands."

  "Very well, sir."

  Mr Moor was a phlegmatic man; a self-contained and a reticent man. IfCaptain Roy had told him to get ready to sail to the moon thatafternoon, he would probably have said "Very well, sir," in the sametone and with the same expression.

  "May I ask, sir, what sort of cargo you expect there?" said Mr Moor;for to his practical mind some re-arrangement of the cargo already onboard might be necessary for the reception of that to be picked up atKeeling.

  "The cargo we'll take on board will be a girl," said the captain.

  "A what, sir?"

  "A girl."

  "Very well, sir."

  This ended the business part of the conversation. Thereafter they wentinto details so highly nautical that we shrink from recording them. Anamateur detective, in the form of a shipmate, having captured JimSloper, the _Sunshine_ finally cleared out of the port of Batavia thatevening, shortly before its namesake took his departure from that partof the southern hemisphere.

  Favouring gales carried the brig swiftly through Sunda Straits and outinto the Indian Ocean. Two days and a half brought her to the desiredhaven. On the way, Captain Roy took note of the condition of Krakatoa,which at that time was quietly working up its subterranean forces with aview to the final catastrophe; opening a safety-valve now and then toprevent, as it were, premature explosion.

  "My son's friend, the hermit of Rakata," said the captain to his secondmate, "will find his cave too hot to hold him, I think, when hereturns."

  "Looks like it, sir," said Mr Moor, glancing up at the vast cloudswhich were at that time spreading like a black pall over the re-awakenedvolcano. "Do you expect 'em back soon, sir?"

  "Yes--time's about up now. I shouldn't wonder if they reach Bataviabefore us."

  Arrived at the Keeling Islands, Captain Roy was received, as usual, withacclamations of joy, but he found that he was by no means as well fittedto act the part of a diplomatist as he was to sail a ship. It was, intruth, a somewhat delicate mission on which his son had sent him, for hecould not assert definitely that the hermit actually was KathleenHolbein's father, and her self-constituted parents did not relish theidea of letting slip, on a mere chance, one whom they loved as adaughter.

  "Why not bring this man who claims to be her father _here_?" asked theperplexed Holbein.

  "Because--because, p'raps he won't come," answered the puzzled mariner,who did not like to say that he was simply and strictly obeying hisson's orders. "Besides," he continued, "the man does not claim to beanything at all. So far as I understand it, my boy has not spoken tohim on the subject, for fear, I suppose, of raisin' hopes that ain't tobe realised."

  "He is right in that," said Mrs Holbein, "and we must be just ascareful not to raise false hopes in dear little Kathy. As your sonsays, it may be a mistake after all. We must not open our lips to herabout it."

  "Right you are, madam," returned the captain. "Mum's the word; andwe've only got to say she's goin' to visit one of your old friends inAnjer--which'll be quite true, you know, for the landlady o' the chiefhotel there is a great friend o' yours, and we'll take Kathy to herstraight. Besides, the trip will do her health a power o' good, thoughI'm free to confess it don't need no good to be done to it, bein' A1 atthe present time. Now, just you agree to give the girl a holiday, an'I'll pledge myself to bring her back safe and sound--with her father, ifhe's _him_; without him if he isn't."

  With such persuasive words Captain Roy at length overcame the Holbeinobjections. With the girl herself he had less difficulty, his chiefanxiety being, as he himself said, "to give her reasons for wishin' herto go without tellin' lies."

  "Wouldn't you like a trip in my brig to Anjer, my dear girl?" He hadalmost said daughter, but thought it best not to be too precipitate.

  "Oh! I should like it _so_ much," said Kathleen, clasping her littlehands and raising her large eyes to the captain's face.

  "_Dear_ child!" said the captain to himself. Then aloud, "Well, I'lltake you."

  "But I--I fear that father and mother would not like me to go--perhaps."

  "No fear o' them, my girl," returned the captain, putting his huge roughhand on her pretty little head as if in an act of solemn appropriation,for, unlike too many fathers, this exemplary man considered only thesweetness, goodness, and personal worth of the girl, caring not a strawfor other matters, and being strongly of opinion that a man should marryyoung if he possess the spirit of a man or the means to support a wife.As he was particularly fond of Kathleen, and felt quite sure that hisson had deeper reasons than he chose to express for his course ofaction, he entertained a strong hope, not to say conviction, that shewould also become fond of Nigel, and that all things would thus worktogether for a smooth course to this case of true love.

  It will be seen from all this that Captain David Roy was a sanguine man.Whether his hopes were well grounded or not remains to be seen.

  Meanwhile, having, as Mr Moor said, shipped the cargo, the _Sunshine_set sail once more for Sunda Straits in a measure of outward gloom thatformed a powerful contrast to the sunny hopes within her commander'sbosom, for Krakatoa was at that time progressing rapidly towards theconsummation of its designs, as partly described in the last chapter.

  Short though that voyage was, it embraced a period of action so
thrilling that ever afterwards it seemed a large slice of life's littleday to those who went through it.

  We have said that the culminating incidents of the drama began on thenight of the 26th. Before that time, however, the cloud-pall was fastspreading over land and sea, and the rain of pumice and ashes had begunto descend.

  The wind being contrary, it was several days before the brig reached theimmediate neighbourhood of Krakatoa, and by that time the volcano hadbegun to enter upon the stage which is styled by vulcanologists"paroxysmal," the explosions being extremely violent as well asfrequent.

  "It is very awful," said Kathleen in a low voice, as she clasped thecaptain's arm and leaned her slight figure on it. "I have often heardthe thunder of distant volcanoes, but never been so near as to hear suchterrible sounds."

  "Don't be frightened, my ducky," said the captain in a soothing tone,for he felt from the appearance of things that there was indeed someground for alarm. "Volcanoes always look worse when you're near them."

  "I not frightened," she replied. "Only I got strange, solemn feelings.Besides, no danger can come till God allows."

  "That's right, lass. Mrs Holbein has been a true mother if she taughtyou that."

  "No, she did not taught me that. My father taught me that."

  "What! Old Holbein?"

  "No--my father, who is dead," she said in a low voice.

  "Oh! I see. My poor child, I should have understood you. Forgive me."

  As the captain spoke, a tremendous outburst on Krakatoa turned theirminds to other subjects. They were by that time drawing near to theisland, and the thunders of the eruption seemed to shake not only theheavens but even the great ocean itself. Though the hour was not muchpast noon the darkness soon became so dense that it was difficult toperceive objects a few yards distant, and, as pieces of stone the sizeof walnuts, or even larger, began to fall on the deck, the captain sentKathleen below.

  "There's no saying where or when a big stone may fall, my girl," hesaid, "and it's not the habit of Englishmen to let women come underfire, so you'll be safer below. Besides, you'll be able to seesomething of what's goin' on out o' the cabin windows."

  With the obedience that was natural to her, Kathleen went down at once,and the captain made everything as snug as possible, battening down thehatches and shortening sail so as to be ready for whatever might befall.

  "I don't like the look o' things, Mr Moor," said the captain when thesecond mate came on deck to take his watch.

  "No more do I, sir," answered Mr Moor calmly.

  The aspect of things was indeed very changeable. Sometimes, as we havesaid, all nature seemed to be steeped in thick darkness, at other timesthe fires of the volcano blazed upward, spreading a red glare on therolling clouds and over the heaving sea. Lightning also played its partas well as thunder, but the latter was scarcely distinguishable from thevolcano's roar. Three days before Sunday the 26th of August, CaptainRoy--as well as the crews of several other vessels that were in SundaStraits at the time--had observed a marked though gradual increase inthe violence of the eruption. On that day, as we read in the _Report ofthe Krakatoa Committee of the Royal Society_, about 1 p.m. thedetonations caused by the explosive action attained such violence as tobe heard at Batavia, about 100 English miles away. At 2 p.m. of thesame day, Captain Thompson of the _Medea_, when about 76 mileseast-north-east of the island, saw a black mass rising like clouds ofsmoke to a height which has been estimated at no less than 17 miles!And the detonations were at that time taking place at intervals of tenminutes. But, terrible though these explosions must have been, theywere but as the whisperings of the volcano. An hour later they hadincreased so much as to be heard at Bandong and other places 150 milesaway, and at 5 p.m. they had become so tremendous as to be heard overthe whole island of Java, the eastern portion of which is about 650miles from Krakatoa.

  And the sounds thus heard were not merely like distant thunder. InBatavia--although, as we have said, 100 miles off--they were so violentduring the whole of that terrible Sunday night as to prevent the peoplefrom sleeping. They were compared to the "discharge of artillery closeat hand," and caused a rattling of doors, windows, pictures, andchandeliers.

  Captain Watson of the _Charles Bal_, who chanced to be only 10 milessouth of the volcano, also compared the sounds to discharges ofartillery, but this only shows the feebleness of ordinary language inattempting to describe such extraordinary sounds, for if they werecomparable to close artillery at Batavia, the same comparison isinappropriate at only ten miles' distance. He also mentions thecrackling noise, probably due to the impact of fragments in theatmosphere, which were noticed by the hermit and Nigel while standingstunned and almost stupefied on the giddy ledge of Rakata that sameSunday.

  About five in the evening of that day, the brig _Sunshine_ drew stillnearer to the island, but the commotion at the time became so intense,and the intermittent darkness so profound, that Captain Roy was afraidto continue the voyage and shortened sail. Not only was there a heavyrolling sea, but the water was seething, as if about to boil.

  "Heave the lead, Mr Moor," said the captain, who stood beside thewheel.

  "Yes, sir," answered the imperturbable second mate, who thereupon gavethe necessary order, and when the depth was ascertained, the report was"Ten fathoms, sand, with a hot bottom."

  "A hot bottom! what do you mean?"

  "The lead's 'ot, sir," replied the sailor.

  This was true, as the captain found when he applied his hand to it.

  "I do believe the world's going on fire," he muttered; "but it's acomfort to know that it can't very well blaze up as long as the sealasts!"

  Just then a rain of pumice in large pieces, and quite warm, began tofall upon the deck. As most people know, pumice is extremely light, sothat no absolute injury was done to any one, though such rain wasexcessively trying. Soon, however, a change took place. The densevapours and dust-clouds which had rendered it so excessively dark wereentirely lighted up from time to time by fierce flashes of lightningwhich rent as well as painted them in all directions. At one time thisgreat mass of clouds presented the appearance of an immense pine-treewith the stem and branches formed of volcanic lightning.

  Captain Roy, fearing that these tremendous sights and sounds wouldterrify the poor girl in the cabin, was about to look in and reassureher, when the words "Oh! how splendid!" came through the slightly openeddoor. He peeped in and saw Kathleen on her knees on the stern locker,with her hands clasped, gazing out of one of the stern windows.

  "Hm! she's all right," he muttered, softly re-closing the door andreturning on deck. "If she thinks it's splendid, she don't need nocomfortin'! It's quite clear that she don't know what danger means--andwhy should she? Humph! there go some more splendid sights for her," headded, as what appeared to be chains of fire ascended from the volcanoto the sky.

  Just then a soft rain began to fall. It was warm, and, on examinationat the binnacle-lamp, turned out to be mud. Slight at first, it soonpoured down in such quantities that in ten minutes it lay six inchesthick on the deck, and the crew had to set to work with shovels to heaveit overboard. At this time there was seen a continual roll of balls ofwhite fire down the sides of the peak of Rakata, caused, doubtless, bythe ejection of white-hot fragments of lava. Then showers of masseslike iron cinders fell on the brig, and from that time onward till fouro'clock of the morning of the 27th, explosions of indescribable grandeurcontinually took place, as if the mountains were in a continuous roar ofterrestrial agony--the sky being at one moment of inky blackness, thenext in a blaze of light, while hot, choking, and sulphurous smellsalmost stifled the voyagers.

  At this point the captain again became anxious about Kathleen and wentbelow. He found her in the same place and attitude--still fascinated!

  "My child," he said, taking her hand, "you must lie down and rest."

  "Oh! no. Do let me stay up," she begged, entreatingly.

  "But you must be tired--sleepy."

  "Sl
eepy! who could sleep with such wonders going on around? Pray_don't_ tell me to go to bed!"

  It was evident that poor Kathy had the duty of obedience to authoritystill strong upon her. Perhaps the memory of the Holbein nursery hadnot yet been wiped out.

  "Well, well," said the captain with a pathetic smile, "you are as safe--comfortable, I mean--here as in your berth or anywhere else."

  As there was a lull in the violence of the eruption just then, thecaptain left Kathleen in the cabin and went on deck. It was not knownat that time what caused this lull, but as it preceded the first of thefour grand explosions which effectually eviscerated--emptied--theancient crater of Krakatoa, we will give, briefly, the explanation of itas conjectured by the men of science.

  Lying as it did so close to the sea-level, the Krakatoa volcano, havingblown away all its cones, and vents, and safety-valves--from Perboewatansouthward, except the peak of Rakata--let the sea rush in upon itsinfernal fires. This result, ordinary people think, produced a gush ofsteam which caused the grand terminal explosions. Vulcanologists thinkotherwise, and with reason--which is more than can be said of ordinarypeople, who little know the power of the forces at work below the crustof our earth! The steam thus produced, although on so stupendous ascale, was free to expand and therefore went upwards, no doubt in asufficiently effective gust and cloud. But nothing worthy of beingnamed a blow-up was there.

  The effect of the in-rushing water was to cool the upper surface of theboiling lava and convert it into a thick hard solid crust at the mouthof the great vent. In this condition the volcano resembled a boilerwith all points of egress closed and the safety-valve shut down! Oceansof molten lava creating expansive gases below; no outlet possibleunderneath, and the neck of the bottle corked with tons of solid rock!One of two things must happen in such circumstances: the cork must go orthe bottle must burst! Both events happened on that terrible night.All night long the corks were going, and at last--Krakatoa burst!

  In the hurly-burly of confusion, smoke, and noise, no eye could note theprecise moment when the island was shattered, but there were on themorning of the 27th four supreme explosions, which rang loud and highabove the horrible average din. These occurred--according to thecareful investigations made, at the instance of the Dutch IndianGovernment, by the eminent geologist, Mr R.D.M. Verbeek--at the hoursof 5:30, 6:44, 10:02, and 10:52 in the morning. Of these the third,about 10, was by far the worst for violence and for the widespreaddevastation which it produced.

  At each of these explosions a tremendous sea-wave was created by thevolcano, which swept like a watery ring from Krakatoa as a centre to thesurrounding shores. It was at the second of these explosions--that of6:44--that the fall of the mighty cliff took place which was seen by thehermit and his friends as they fled from the island, and, on the crestof the resulting wave, were carried along they scarce knew whither.

  As the previous wave--that of 5:30--had given the brig a tremendousheave upwards, the captain, on hearing the second, ran down below for amoment to tell Kathleen there would soon be another wave, but that sheneed fear no danger.

  "The brig is deep and has a good hold o' the water," he said, "so thewave is sure to slip under her without damage. I wish I could hope itwould do as little damage when it reaches the shore."

  As he spoke a strange and violent crash was heard overhead, quitedifferent from volcanic explosions, like the falling of some heavy bodyon the deck.

  "One o' the yards down!" muttered the captain as he ran to the cabindoor. "Hallo, what's that, Mr Moor?"

  "Canoe just come aboard, sir."

  "A canoe?"

  "Yes, sir. Crew, three men and a monkey. All insensible--hallo!"

  The "hallo!" with which the second mate finished his remark was sounlike his wonted tone, and so full of genuine surprise, that thecaptain ran forward with unusual haste, and found a canoe smashed topieces against the foremast, and the mate held a lantern close to theface of one of the men while the crew were examining the others.

  A single glance told the captain that the mud-bespattered figure thatlay before him as if dead was none other than his own son! The greatwave had caught the frail craft on its crest, and, sweeping it alongwith lightning speed for a short distance, had hurled it on the deck ofthe _Sunshine_ with such violence as to completely stun the whole crew.Even Spinkie lay in a melancholy little heap in the lee scuppers.

  You think this a far-fetched coincidence, good reader! Well, all we cansay is that we could tell you of another--a double-coincidence, whichwas far more extraordinary than this one, but as it has nothing to dowith our tale we refrain from inflicting it on you.