The Coral Island by Robert Michael Ballantyne (interesting books to read in english TXT) 📖
- Author: Robert Michael Ballantyne
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sometimes flew exceedingly high, and, every here and there, a
beautiful rainbow was formed for a moment among the falling drops.
We afterwards found that this coral reef extended quite round the
island, and formed a natural breakwater to it. Beyond this the sea
rose and tossed violently from the effects of the storm; but
between the reef and the shore it was as calm and as smooth as a
pond.
My heart was filled with more delight than I can express at sight
of so many glorious objects, and my thoughts turned suddenly to the
contemplation of the Creator of them all. I mention this the more
gladly, because at that time, I am ashamed to say, I very seldom
thought of my Creator, although I was constantly surrounded by the
most beautiful and wonderful of His works. I observed from the
expression of my companion’s countenance that he too derived much
joy from the splendid scenery, which was all the more agreeable to
us after our long voyage on the salt sea. There, the breeze was
fresh and cold, but here it was delightfully mild; and, when a puff
blew off the land, it came laden with the most exquisite perfume
that can be imagined. While we thus gazed, we were startled by a
loud “Huzza!” from Peterkin, and, on looking towards the edge of
the sea, we saw him capering and jumping about like a monkey, and
ever and anon tugging with all his might at something that lay upon
the shore.
“What an odd fellow he is, to be sure,” said Jack, taking me by the
arm and hurrying forward; “come, let us hasten to see what it is.”
“Here it is, boys, hurrah! come along. Just what we want,” cried
Peterkin, as we drew near, still tugging with all his power.
“First rate; just the very ticket!”
I need scarcely say to my readers that my companion Peterkin was in
the habit of using very remarkable and peculiar phrases. And I am
free to confess that I did not well understand the meaning of some
of them, - such, for instance, as “the very ticket;” but I think it
my duty to recount everything relating to my adventures with a
strict regard to truthfulness in as far as my memory serves me; so
I write, as nearly as possible, the exact words that my companions
spoke. I often asked Peterkin to explain what he meant by
“ticket,” but he always answered me by going into fits of laughter.
However, by observing the occasions on which he used it, I came to
understand that it meant to show that something was remarkably
good, or fortunate.
On coming up we found that Peterkin was vainly endeavouring to pull
the axe out of the oar, into which, it will be remembered, Jack
struck it while endeavouring to cut away the cordage among which it
had become entangled at the bow of the ship. Fortunately for us
the axe had remained fast in the oar, and even now, all Peterkin’s
strength could not draw it out of the cut.
“Ah! that is capital indeed,” cried Jack, at the same time giving
the axe a wrench that plucked it out of the tough wood. “How
fortunate this is! It will be of more value to us than a hundred
knives, and the edge is quite new and sharp.”
“I’ll answer for the toughness of the handle at any rate,” cried
Peterkin; “my arms are nearly pulled out of the sockets. But see
here, our luck is great. There is iron on the blade.” He pointed
to a piece of hoop iron, as he spoke, which had been nailed round
the blade of the oar to prevent it from splitting.
This also was a fortunate discovery. Jack went down on his knees,
and with the edge of the axe began carefully to force out the
nails. But as they were firmly fixed in, and the operation blunted
our axe, we carried the oar up with us to the place where we had
left the rest of our things, intending to burn the wood away from
the iron at a more convenient time.
“Now, lads,” said Jack, after we had laid it on the stone which
contained our little all, “I propose that we should go to the tail
of the island, where the ship struck, which is only a quarter of a
mile off, and see if anything else has been thrown ashore. I don’t
expect anything, but it is well to see. When we get back here it
will be time to have our supper and prepare our beds.”
“Agreed!” cried Peterkin and I together, as, indeed, we would have
agreed to any proposal that Jack made; for, besides his being older
and much stronger and taller than either of us, he was a very
clever fellow, and I think would have induced people much older
than himself to choose him for their leader, especially if they
required to be led on a bold enterprise.
Now, as we hastened along the white beach, which shone so brightly
in the rays of the setting sun that our eyes were quite dazzled by
its glare, it suddenly came into Peterkin’s head that we had
nothing to eat except the wild berries which grew in profusion at
our feet.
“What shall we do, Jack?” said he, with a rueful look; “perhaps
they may be poisonous!”
“No fear,” replied Jack, confidently; “I have observed that a few
of them are not unlike some of the berries that grow wild on our
own native hills. Besides, I saw one or two strange birds eating
them just a few minutes ago, and what won’t kill the birds won’t
kill us. But look up there, Peterkin,” continued Jack, pointing to
the branched head of a cocoa-nut palm. “There are nuts for us in
all stages.”
“So there are!” cried Peterkin, who being of a very unobservant
nature had been too much taken up with other things to notice
anything so high above his head as the fruit of a palm tree. But,
whatever faults my young comrade had, he could not be blamed for
want of activity or animal spirits. Indeed, the nuts had scarcely
been pointed out to him when he bounded up the tall stem of the
tree like a squirrel, and, in a few minutes, returned with three
nuts, each as large as a man’s fist.
“You had better keep them till we return,” raid Jack. “Let us
finish our work before eating.”
“So be it, captain, go ahead,” cried Peterkin, thrusting the nuts
into his trousers pocket. “In fact I don’t want to eat just now,
but I would give a good deal for a drink. Oh that I could find a
spring! but I don’t see the smallest sign of one hereabouts. I
say, Jack, how does it happen that you seem to be up to everything?
You have told us the names of half-a-dozen trees already, and yet
you say that you were never in the South Seas before.”
“I’m not up to EVERYTHING, Peterkin, as you’ll find out ere long,”
replied Jack, with a smile; “but I have been a great reader of
books of travel and adventure all my life, and that has put me up
to a good many things that you are, perhaps, not acquainted with.”
“Oh, Jack, that’s all humbug. If you begin to lay everything to
the credit of books, I’ll quite lose my opinion of you,” cried
Peterkin, with a look of contempt. “I’ve seen a lot o’ fellows
that were ALWAYS poring over books, and when they came to try to DO
anything, they were no better than baboons!”
“You are quite right,” retorted Jack; “and I have seen a lot of
fellows who never looked into books at all, who knew nothing about
anything except the things they had actually seen, and very little
they knew even about these. Indeed, some were so ignorant that
they did not know that cocoa-nuts grew on cocoa-nut trees!”
I could not refrain from laughing at this rebuke, for there was
much truth in it, as to Peterkin’s ignorance.
“Humph! maybe you’re right,” answered Peterkin; “but I would not
give TUPPENCE for a man of books, if he had nothing else in him.”
“Neither would I,” said Jack; “but that’s no reason why you should
run books down, or think less of me for having read them. Suppose,
now, Peterkin, that you wanted to build a ship, and I were to give
you a long and particular account of the way to do it, would not
that be very useful?”
“No doubt of it,” said Peterkin, laughing.
“And suppose I were to write the account in a letter instead of
telling you in words, would that be less useful?”
“Well - no, perhaps not.”
“Well, suppose I were to print it, and send it to you in the form
of a book, would it not be as good and useful as ever?”
“Oh, bother! Jack, you’re a philosopher, and that’s worse than
anything!” cried Peterkin, with a look of pretended horror.
“Very well, Peterkin, we shall see,” returned Jack, halting under
the shade of a cocoa-nut tree. “You said you were thirsty just a
minute ago; now, jump up that tree and bring down a nut, - not a
ripe one, bring a green, unripe one.”
Peterkin looked surprised, but, seeing that Jack was in earnest, he
obeyed.
“Now, cut a hole in it with your penknife, and clap it to your
mouth, old fellow,” said Jack.
Peterkin did as he was directed, and we both burst into
uncontrollable laughter at the changes that instantly passed over
his expressive countenance. No sooner had he put the nut to his
mouth, and thrown back his head in order to catch what came out of
it, than his eyes opened to twice their ordinary size with
astonishment, while his throat moved vigorously in the act of
swallowing. Then a smile and look of intense delight overspread
his face, except, indeed, the mouth, which, being firmly fixed to
the hole in the nut, could not take part in the expression; but he
endeavoured to make up for this by winking at us excessively with
his right eye. At length he stopped, and, drawing a long breath,
exclaimed -
“Nectar! perfect nectar! I say, Jack, you’re a Briton - the best
fellow I ever met in my life. Only taste that!” said he, turning
to me and holding the nut to my mouth. I immediately drank, and
certainly I was much surprised at the delightful liquid that flowed
copiously down my throat. It was extremely cool, and had a sweet
taste, mingled with acid; in fact, it was the likest thing to
lemonade I ever tasted, and was most grateful and refreshing. I
handed the nut to Jack, who, after tasting it, said, “Now,
Peterkin, you unbeliever, I never saw or tasted a cocoa nut in my
life before, except those sold in shops at home; but I once read
that the green nuts contain that stuff, and you see it is true!”
“And pray,” asked Peterkin, “what sort of ‘stuff’ does the ripe nut
contain?”
“A hollow kernel,” answered Jack, “with a liquid like milk in it;
but it does not satisfy thirst so well as hunger. It is very
wholesome food I believe.”
“Meat and drink on the same tree!” cried Peterkin; “washing in the
sea, lodging on the ground, - and all for nothing! My dear boys,
we’re set up for life; it must be the ancient Paradise, - hurrah!”
and
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