Captain Bergen and his mate were not certain that one or more of the mutineers had not survived the foundering of the schooner Coral, and had managed to reach the island.
If such were the case, they considered it important that it should be known as soon as possible, and on the morrow, therefore, they made careful search, but none of the three men was ever seen again. A few fragments of spars, floating here and there, were all the signs that such a craft had ever sailed over the Pacific.
Since the captain and mate were now given the opportunity to think of their own situation, they did so like men of gravity and sense. They were safely upon Pearl Island, as they had named it. They had secured the prize for which they had come so many thousand miles, and they were, as the world goes, wealthy men. More than that, they had found a pearl of such marvelous size and purity that, being dedicated to little Inez Hawthorne, it was a great fortune indeed to her.
And yet, in one sense, the little party were paupers; that is, so long as they were held prisoners upon the atoll, for the treasure of pearls could not purchase them food, clothing, friends, happiness—nor, in fact, were they anything more than so many valueless pebbles. They must reach civilization again to realize anything from the riches which had come into their possession.
But how were they to leave the island? This was the one great question which faced them, and which they were called upon to solve, for now that there was no further cause for staying, the homesickness of the men increased, and it was not long before they felt they would give half their wealth for the means of getting back to Boston.
Since they were absolutely without this means, it was evident they could do nothing but rely upon Providence to send some vessel to their relief. It was not impossible that Abe Storms, gifted as he was with so much wonderful ingenuity, might have attempted to construct some sort of craft from the palm trees, and it is quite likely he would have succeeded in making something that could be utilized. But the awful blotting out of the Coral, before their eyes, had alarmed both, and made them more timid than they otherwise would have been.
It was a good many miles to the nearest inhabited island, as laid down on their chart, and they might succeed in reaching it, provided they could be assured of a week of good weather. But there could be no such assurance, and a disturbance meant the same fate that overtook the mutineers.
It is not at all unlikely, too, that the presence of little Inez Hawthorne increased this timidity. Had they been without her, they would not have hesitated to take great risks, but, somehow or other, her life was inestimably precious in their eyes, and they would never have forgiven themselves had any ill befallen her through their dereliction of duty.
“There is a mystery about her life which shall yet be cleared up,” Abe Storms frequently remarked;“and we must not do aught that shall endanger or delay the solution of the question.”
There were comparatively few stores which the schooner had left them before its final departure, and the survivors were forced to rely mainly upon what the island afforded. Of course there were fish in abundance, and they frequently rowed out in the lagoon in the tender, or small boat, or cast out their lines from shore, and never failed in a short time to catch all they wanted.
The spring of clear, cool water bubbled and trickled steadily, and never failed them. And the several species of tropical fruits about them were used sparingly, the men having the prudence to seek to prevent the supply giving out.
It was a great relief to Storms and Bergen to find, after the most thorough exploration they could make, that there were no poisonous reptiles upon the island.
“We may as well face the situation,” said Captain Bergen, after they had held frequent consultations;“we have been here five weeks now, and we haven’t caught sight of the first sail, with the exception of our own, which has gone to the bottom, and it may be that weeks and months more may pass before we shall see another.”
“It is not unlikely that it may be years,” added Storms, gravely; “for, according to the narrative of Grebbens himself, he was here a long time before he was taken away. The wisest thing we can do is to prepare ourselves for an indefinite stay.”
A long time before, the captain had laboriously climbed the mast which was erected in the sand by the inlet, and had securely fastened an old garment to the highest point. There it was still, fluttering in the wind, when there was enough breeze to raise the irregular folds, but, alas! it had not brought the friendly sail which they longed for, and they had been forced at last to look upon an extended residence upon the island as not only possible, but very probable.
Like philosophers, they governed themselves accordingly. The signal was kept flying and they busied themselves fishing, talking or doing odd things which were done simply to pass away time. But the two felt that a most urgent duty was upon them, respecting Inez Hawthorne.
“We must do what we can for her,” said Storms.“With the material which I have on hand we can construct garments that will keep her clad with comeliness, though she may not be in the fashion; and yet I don’t know but what she will,” he added, with a smile, “for we may strike some of the vagaries without knowing it. Then, too, she must be educated.”
“I’m not well up in the line of an education,” said the captain, with some embarrassment, “being as I never attended any other than a district school, but I believe you graduated, didn’t you, Abe?”
“Yes, I went through Harvard three years ago, and stood second in my class. I haven’t any fear that I won’t be able to teach her, for she is a child of unusual brightness.”
And, as may be supposed, the mate went to work thoroughly in the instruction of Inez Hawthorne, who proved herself one of the most apt of pupils, and advanced with a rapidity which delighted her teacher.
CHAPTER XXIV
Three Years
Three years have passed, and still Captain Bergen, Mate Storms and Inez Hawthorne are upon the lonely Pearl Island in the South Sea.
Could they have believed when they left Boston that they would be doomed to such an imprisonment, it may well be doubted whether they would have made the voyage, even if assured of the vast fortune which thereby came into their hands.
The three years had been dismally monotonous to them, and their courage had been tried to the utmost, for there had been times when both agreed that they would probably stay there until released by death, and then they fell to speculating as to which would be the last one to survive. According to human logic, it would seem that that lot would fall to Inez, and their hearts sank at the thought of her being left to perish in the lonely spot.
When the coat fluttering from the top of the mast was blown away by the gale, Captain Bergen climbed up and nailed another in its place, grimly remarking that it looked as if they were going down with their colors flying.
It was surprising what was done by Mate Storms, whose ingenuity was almost incredible. With the material at his command, he kept Inez clothed in a tasteful manner.
She wore dresses and shoes which fitted her well, and her hat was renewed with extraordinary skill, from material obtained from the palm-trees.
Those three years, although of indescribable weariness at times, were marked by some startling incidents, and by many worthy of record. The great object of Storms was to educate Inez, and he did his utmost in that direction, assisted by the bright intellect of the girl and her own ardent desire to explore the wonders of knowledge.
There were few facilities in the way of furniture, considered so indispensable in these later days. He had no pens or ink, and only a Bible in the way of books. He had some blank paper and a single lead pencil, which were utilized to their fullest extent. For a slate or blackboard, he used the beach, as did Archimedes of the olden time.
Selecting a place where the water had left it hard and smooth, Storms, with a sharp-pointed stick, made his characters and gave his instruction in the mysteries of mathematics.
It would sound incredible were we to say that, dur
ing those three years, the dwellers on the lonely atoll had never descried a sail; and such was not a fact, for there are few shores on this globe where a human being can bury himself so long from sight of the white-winged birds of commerce. They had seen many ships, but it looked very much as if they themselves had not been seen, nor had their presence been suspected by any of them.
“The idea of our being so nervous lest some one should get here ahead of us,” remarked Storms, more than once, “when we might have delayed our coming a dozen years without any danger from that cause.”
They had discovered the cloud-like picture of the canvas sail as it came up over the horizon, and their hearts swelled as it expanded and came closer. But all hope faded again when it grew less in the distance and finally passed from view altogether.
This had happened repeatedly, and more than once Captain Bergen had laboriously made his way up the smooth mast to the very top, where he swung his hat wildly; but it must have been that the little island in the South Seas possessed slight interest in the eyes of the navigators who occasionally drifted in that direction, for had they seen the signal of distress, or caught sight of the man frantically waving his hat from the top, they would have learned what its meaning was.
The greatest dejection which took possession of the couple was when they, through the glass, saw the Stars and Stripes fluttering from the mizzen of the ship which came the nearest and then made off again. The sight of that most beautiful banner in the world was like a glimpse of their distant New England home, and they seemed to feel the cool breeze fanning their hot brows as it bore steadily toward them.
When it went over the convex sea out of sight, Captain Bergen covered his face with his hands and wept, and when, after awhile, he looked up again, he saw the tears on the cheeks of Abe Storms, who stood motionless and gazing silently off upon the deep, as if he expected the vessel would come back to them. It was a severe blow, and it was a long time before they recovered from it.
The exact age of Inez Hawthorne when she became, by an extraordinary turn of the wheel of fortune, the protégée of the two sailors, was, as given by herself, six years, but both the captain and mate were confident that she was fully one, if not two years older.
Now, at the termination of the period named, she was a girl as fully developed mentally and physically as one of a dozen years, and she was growing into a woman of striking beauty. She was still a child, with all the innocence and simplicity which distinguished her at the time she was taken from the deck of the steamer Polynesia, but in a few years more, should she be spared, she would become a woman.
Captain Bergen and Mate Storms were honest, conscientious men, and Christians, and they performed their full duty in that most important respect to Inez Hawthorne. Never passed a day in which Storms did not read, in an impressive voice, from the great Book of all books, and the sublime passages, the wonderful precepts, the divine truths and the sacred instruction from that volume were seed which fell upon good ground and bore its fruit in due season.
If ever there was a good, pure, devout Christian, Inez Hawthorne became one, and her greatest desire, as she repeatedly expressed it, was that she might go out in the great world among all people, and do her utmost to carry the glad tidings to them.
“The time will come,” replied Abe Storms, when he listened to these glowing wishes. “God never intended you should live and die upon this lonely island when there is such need for missionaries like you. I don’t see that we are of much account, but I believe He has something for us, too, and we shall be given the opportunity to do it.”
“Ah,” said the skipper, with a sigh, “you have been saying that for three years, and the sails that come go again and care nothing for us. I am beginning to believe we are to stay here for the rest of our lives, and that I am to be the first one to take the long, last sleep that awaits us all.”
CHAPTER XXV
An Arrival
When Captain Bergen was inclined to become pessimistic, the mate treated it lightly, for he feared the strong sailor would break before long from sheer homesickness.
It was fortunate that neither had any family, the mate being one of those who are without any close living relative, while the captain had a sister in New England, and his aged mother was in San Francisco, living with a nephew, of whom she was very fond.
Thus the three years passed away, and the second era in their lives approached. There was something curious in the fact that all the inhabitants of the lonely Pearl Island had lost their reckoning. No two could agree on the day of the week, and when they compromised on one, which was called Sunday, and observed as such, they were much in doubt whether they were right, and, as it afterward proved, they were not.
One afternoon, when the sun had hardly passed the meridian, the mate and captain were stretched upon the beach under the shade of a palm-tree, and looking out upon the sea, over which they had come to this desolate spot so long before. The day was cooler than usual, and a steady breeze blew, rendering the position of the friends in that respect as pleasant as they could wish, though their weary, homesick feeling was telling upon them. Both the ragged sailors were thinner, and there was a yearning, far-away look in their eyes, especially in those of the captain, which presaged the approach of insanity or death at no distant day, unless a change were made in their condition and surroundings. This lamentable state was partly due, no doubt, to the diet to which they had been subjected for many months.
Inez, who seemed happy everywhere and at all times, was busying herself in the cabin, where she could find plenty to do; and ever and anon the sound of her voice could be heard, as she sang some snatch of song, which came through the mist of memory from her infancy.
“I tell you what it is,” said Captain Bergen, in his low, determined voice, “this thing cannot continue much longer.”
“You are no more weary of it than I, Jack; but show me the way in which it can be ended.”
“We’ve got to take the risk. The tender there is large enough to carry us and a good supply of provisions—that is, enough water, to last several days. We can rig some sort of sail, and, in less than a week, by keeping to the northwest, we shall reach some inhabited island, unless we should be picked up before that time, which I consider quite likely.”
“I’ve thought a good deal of it, Jack,” said the mate, in a voice of equal seriousness. “We have been restrained heretofore by the fear that it would endanger too greatly the safety of Inez, and mainly by the feeling that we couldn’t stay here long without assistance being summoned by that signal fluttering up there. And yet, three years have come and gone,” continued the mate, “and not a living soul has come to us. There have been hundreds of days within this long period when we might have embarked on board the little boat and safely made our way to some other port, but we could not know it, and the result is—here we are.”
“And the situation is very different from what it was when we first landed, for it is now a choice between staying here with the certainty of miserably perishing—every one of us—and of starting boldly out upon an unknown sea, as it may be called, with the chances between life and death about even.”
“You have stated the case correctly,” assented Mr. Storms; “and though it is your place to command, yet as you have deferred to me, I give you my promise that tomorrow we shall begin rigging the best sort of sail we can, and at daylight on the next day we will start for whatever port Providence directs us.”
“That has put new life into me, Abe. I feel now as I did three years ago, when we first caught sight of those pearls. I am ten years younger. I prefer a bold stroke for life to a weak submission to fate, with this dismal waiting for help to come to us. By the great horn spoon! a thousand such pearl banks as we cleaned out wouldn’t tempt me to spend another year on this hated island—”
At this instant the voice of Inez was heard, excitedly calling to them, and while they rose to the sitting position and looked inquiringly in that direction, she was seen to
spring through the open door of the cabin, and to come running toward them on the beach, bareheaded and with her long, yellow hair streaming in the wind.
“What can be the matter with her?” exclaimed the captain, rising to his feet. “What is she saying?”
“Hark!”
The distance was so short that the girl was at their side a second or two later. She was laughing, and uttering something in her excitement, which, until that moment, they did not understand.
“Who ever saw any one so stupid?” she called out, cheerily. “What are your eyes for? Why don’t you look out to sea?”
The two obeyed, and an exclamation of amazement escaped both, for there, while they had lain on the beach talking in such disconsolate tones, and looking dreamily out upon the ocean, a craft had been steadily approaching, and neither of the two saw it.
At the furthest, it was no more than a mile distant, and, since it was heading straight in toward the atoll, the chances were a hundred to one that the signal of distress had been seen, and the lonely island at last was going to have a visitor.
Captain Bergen muttered something about the “great horn spoon,” under his breath, while Storms said nothing, but gazed steadily at the craft, upon which his hopes were so suddenly and strongly fixed. It might be that the hearts of all three bounded with hope at this sight of a vessel, but the hope was mixed with apprehension, for the sailors saw it was not the sort of vessel for which they had been praying so long.
Instead of a gallant ship, with the Stars and Stripes streaming from the fore, it was what is termed a flying proa, which is the name applied to the narrow canoes used principally in the Ladrone Islands. They are about thirty feet long, three feet wide, and are steered by a paddle at either end. The sail is lateen, with a boom upon one mast; the prow and stern curve to a high point, and the depth being considerably greater than the width, the proa would, if unsupported, capsize instantly, but a hollow log or heavy-pointed spar rests on the water, parallel with the windward side, and, being secured in place, acts as an outrigger and removes the danger of overturning. The same name is applied to the boats used by the Malays, and which are propelled by both oars and sails.
The Edward S. Ellis Megapack Page 107
