Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Island Queen by R. M. Ballantyne (first e reader .txt) 📖
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
Book online «The Island Queen by R. M. Ballantyne (first e reader .txt) 📖». Author R. M. Ballantyne
“But what about the schoolhouse?” persisted the boy, while the girl began to sketch the view. “You have not finished that subject.”
“True—well, besides teaching the mothers I have great hopes of inducing Dom to set up a Sunday-school, in which those who feel inclined might be taught out of the Bible, and that might in time lead to our making a church of it on Sundays, and having regular services, for there are some earnest Christians among the men, who I feel quite sure would be ready to help in the work. Then as to an army—”
“An army!” echoed Otto, “what do we want with an army? who have we to fight against?”
Little did Otto or Pauline think that at the very time they were conversing thus pleasantly on that beautiful islet, the presence of a friendly army was urgently required, for there in the bushes close behind them listening to every sentence, but understanding never a word, lay a group of tattooed and armed savages!
In the prosecution of evil designs, the nature of which was best known to themselves, these savages had arrived at Refuge Islands the night before. Instantly they became aware of the presence of the white men, and took measures to observe them closely without being themselves observed. Carrying their war-canoe over the reef in the dark, and launching it on the lagoon, they advanced as near to the settlement as possible, landed a small party on an islet, and then retired with the canoe. It was this party which lay in ambush so near to our little hero and heroine. They had been watching the settlers since daybreak, and were not a little surprised, as well as gratified, by the unexpected arrival of the little boat.
The savage who lay there grinning like a Cheshire cat, and peeping through the long grass not ten feet from where the brother and sister sat, was a huge man, tattooed all over, so that his face resembled carved mahogany, his most prominent feature being a great flat nose, with a blue spot on the point of it.
Suddenly Otto caught sight of the glitter of this man’s eyes and teeth.
Now, the power of self-restraint was a prominent feature in Otto’s character, at least in circumstances of danger, though in the matter of fun and mischief he was rather weak. No sign did Otto give of his discovery, although his heart seemed to jump into his mouth. He did not even check or alter the tone of his conversation, but he changed the subject with surprising abruptness. He had brought up one of the dinghy’s oars on his shoulder as a sort of plaything or vaulting-pole. Suddenly, asking Pauline if she had ever seen him balance an oar on his chin, he proceeded to perform the feat, much to her amusement. In doing so he turned his back completely on the savage in ambush, whose cattish grin increased as the boy staggered about.
But there was purpose in Otto’s staggering. He gradually lessened the distance between himself and the savage. When near enough for his purpose, he grasped the oar with both hands, wheeled sharply round, and brought the heavy handle of it down with such a whack on the bridge of the savage’s blue-spotted nose that he suddenly ceased to grin, and dropped his proboscis in the dust!
At the same instant, to the horror and surprise of the brother and sister, up sprang half a dozen hideous natives, who seized them, placed their black hands on their mouths, and bore them swiftly away. The war-canoe, putting off from its concealment, received the party along with the fallen leader, and made for the reef.
High on the cliffs of Big Island Dr John Marsh had been smilingly watching the proceedings of the queen and her brother in the dinghy. When he witnessed the last act of the play, however, the smile vanished. With a bound that would have done credit to a kangaroo, and a roar that would have shamed a lion, he sprang over the cliffs, ran towards the beach, and was followed—yelling—by all the men at hand—some armed, and some not. They leaped into the largest boat on the shore, put out the ten oars, bent to them with a will, and skimmed over the lagoon in fierce pursuit.
Soon the savages gained the reef, carried their canoe swiftly over, and launched on the open sea, cutting through the great rollers like a rocket or a fish-torpedo.
Heavy timbers and stout planks could not be treated thus; nevertheless, the white men were so wild and strong, that when the boat finally gained the open sea it was not very far behind the canoe.
Proverbially a stern chase is a long one. Happily, there are exceptions to proverbs as well as rules. The chase of the war-canoe, however, with the captured queen on board, did not promise to be exceptional at first, for the canoe was light and sharp, and powerfully manned, so that the savages could relieve each other frequently, whereas the settlers’ boat was heavy and blunt, and not by any means too full of men. It soon became apparent that the latter was no match for the former under oars. The distance between the two visibly increased.
Dr Marsh steered. He was deadly pale, and there was a peculiarly intense expression of anxiety in the steady gaze with which he watched the ever-diminishing canoe.
“No chance?” muttered Jabez Jenkins, who happened to form one of the crew and pulled the bow oar.
“No chance?” repeated Dominick, who also pulled one of the oars. “There’s every chance. We’re sure to tire them out. Ho! lads, give way with a will!”
Although labouring already with all his might, indignation at Jenkins’s remark enabled him to put on a spurt, which the others imitated. Still the distance between boat and canoe increased.
“They are three to one,” growled Malines, who, up to that time, had been doing his best.
“Silence!” thundered the doctor, drawing a revolver from his pocket and cocking it.
Beads of perspiration stood on the doctor’s brow, and there was something so terrible in the look of his white face that no one ventured to utter another word, but all pulled as if for their lives.
For some minutes no sound was heard save the regular rattle of the oars in the rowlocks, the swish of the foam as it flew from the cutwater, and the occasional sob or gasp of the men as they exerted themselves to the utmost limit of their powers in the hopeless pursuit.
Suddenly Teddy Malone cried eagerly, “Look out—astarn!”
All turned their gaze as directed, and observed a dark line on the horizon.
“Thank God!” murmured the doctor, “a breeze!”
It was indeed true. Just at this critical moment of profound, despair, a gleam of hope was sent to sustain them! Is it not often thus in the dealings of God with man?
There was no relaxation of effort, however, on the part of the crew until the breeze bore down on them. Then the mate and Hugh Morrison, drawing in their oars, set up the mast and hoisted the sails. Instantly the good craft bent over, as if bowing submissively to her rightful lord, and the gurgling water rolled swiftly from her prow. Still the men plied the oars, but now with the strength of hope, until the breeze freshened so much as to render their further use unnecessary.
“Now, indeed, the tables are turned,” said Dominick with a great sigh of relief, as he drew in his oar.
“Yes; if the wind holds,” said the doctor, glancing back anxiously.
“It’ll howld,” said Malone firmly.
“Who made you so sure a judge of weather?” demanded Jenkins.
“Sure it isn’t me as is judge. It’s the widdy. She says to me this mornin’, says she, ‘The’ll be a stiff breeze afore night, Teddy,’ an’ I nivver found the widdy wrong in her forecasts o’ the weather.”
“The distance decreases rapidly! Hurrah! boys, we’ll catch them yet,” cried Dominick.
This was obviously the case. With her large sails filled by a stiff breeze almost directly astern, the boat went through the water like “a thing of life.” The savages, perceiving this, redoubled their efforts, but in vain. The pursuers gained on them rapidly.
An exclamation of surprise burst from those in the boat as they observed two splashes, one on either side of the canoe, as if some one had fallen or leaped overboard. A great shout from the savages followed, and they suddenly ceased to paddle. The canoe was still too far off for the pursuers to make out what had occurred; but in another minute they observed that two round black objects emerged from the water some distance astern of the canoe. The savages also saw these, and uttered a frightful yell as they backed their craft towards them.
“They’ve jumped overboard!” exclaimed Dominick. “Now, boys—ready with your guns!”
No need for this order. All were ready in a second, but none dared to fire for fear of hitting the swimmers.
Just then a savage rose in the stern of the canoe and poised a short spear.
Instantly every gun in the boat was pointed.
“Not a shot!” shouted Dr Marsh, as he sprang forward with a double-barrelled rifle in his hand.
“Keep her away two points!” he cried, as he knelt to take aim. Every one was well aware of the doctor’s power of shooting, and waited the result with bated breath. The savage seemed to bend backward for the cast of the spear. At that moment the crack of the doctor’s rifle was heard, and the right arm of the savage fell.
Another savage caught up the spear, and urged his comrades, apparently, to back the canoe still further; but they had got a fright, and were evidently unwilling to do so. Before they could make up their minds, another shot from the doctor’s rifle sent the second savage headlong into the bottom of the canoe.
“Give them a volley now, lads,” he said, turning round and resuming his place at the helm; “but fire high.”
The rattling volley which followed, and the whistle of the leaden hail over their heads, quickly settled the savage minds. One of their paddles, which chanced to be held aloft at the moment, was shot into splinters, and precipitated their decision. With a howl of rage and terror they dipped their paddles into the sea and flew ahead.
“Be ready there,” cried the doctor, as he anxiously guided the boat.
Teddy Malone, Morris, Dominick, and Jabez leaned eagerly over the bows with outstretched arms and clawlike fingers. Another moment and Queen Pina with Otto were rescued from the deep, as well as from several sharks, which, doubtless, had been licking their lips at the prospect of the royal feast in store for them.
“Ain’t you goin’ to carry on, an’ sink the varmints?” exclaimed Jabez in surprise, as the doctor put the helm hard down, and prepared to return home.
“No,” replied the doctor sharply.
During the voyage out the crew of the wrecked ship had become intimately acquainted with the doctor’s qualities, among others that there was a certain quiet tone in his “no” which was final. To put the belligerents of the party more at rest, however, Dominick backed his friend up by adding that he had no ill-will to the miserable savages; that they had been punished enough already; that they had got all they wanted from them; and that as their own party consisted chiefly of settlers, not warriors, there was no occasion for fighting.
“Speak for yourself, Dom,” cried Otto, as he wrung the water out of his garments. “If I was in that canoe with a good carving-knife, I’d be warrior enough to give a settler to the baboon wi’ the swelled nose who crammed me into a—”
The remainder of the speech was drowned in laughter, for Otto spoke with intense indignation, as he thought of the injuries and indignities he had
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