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Read books online » Fiction » The Coral Island: A Tale of the Pacific Ocean by R. M. Ballantyne (the lemonade war series txt) 📖

Book online «The Coral Island: A Tale of the Pacific Ocean by R. M. Ballantyne (the lemonade war series txt) đŸ“–Â». Author R. M. Ballantyne



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the gospel as you do (an’ that’s precious little), but he knows, and everybody knows, that the only place among the southern islands where a ship can put in and get what she wants in comfort, is where the gospel has been sent to. There are hundreds o’ islands, at this blessed moment, where you might as well jump straight into a shark’s maw as land without a band o’ thirty comrades armed to the teeth to back you.”

“Ay,” said a man with a deep scar over his right eye, “Dick’s new to the work. But if the captain takes us for a cargo o’ sandal-wood to the Feejees he’ll get a taste o’ these black gentry in their native condition. For my part I don’t know, an’ I don’t care, what the gospel does to them; but I know that when any o’ the islands chance to get it, trade goes all smooth an’ easy; but where they ha’nt got it, Beelzebub himself could hardly desire better company.”

“Well, you ought to be a good judge,” cried another, laughing, “for you’ve never kept any company but the worst all your life!”

“Ralph Rover!” shouted a voice down the hatchway. “Captain wants you, aft.”

Springing up the ladder I hastened to the cabin, pondering as I went the strange testimony borne by these men to the effect of the gospel on savage natures;—testimony which, as it was perfectly disinterested, I had no doubt whatever was strictly true.

On coming again on deck I found Bloody Bill at the helm, and as we were alone together I tried to draw him into conversation. After repeating to him the conversation in the forecastle about the missionaries, I said,—

“Tell me, Bill, is this schooner really a trader in sandal-wood?”

“Yes, Ralph, she is; but she’s just as really a pirate. The black flag you saw flying at the peak was no deception.”

“Then how can you say she’s a trader?” asked I.

“Why, as to that, she trades when she can’t take by force, but she takes by force, when she can, in preference. Ralph,” he added, lowering his voice, “if you had seen the bloody deeds that I have witnessed done on these decks you would not need to ask if we were pirates. But you’ll find it out soon enough. As for the missionaries, the captain favours them because they are useful to him. The South-Sea islanders are such incarnate fiends that they are the better of being tamed, and the missionaries are the only men who can do it.”

Our track after this lay through several clusters of small islets, among which we were becalmed more than once. During this part of our voyage the watch on deck and the look-out at the mast-head were more than usually vigilant, as we were not only in danger of being attacked by the natives, who, I learned from the captain’s remarks, were a bloody and deceitful tribe at this group, but we were also exposed to much risk from the multitudes of coral reefs that rose up in the channels between the islands, some of them just above the surface, others a few feet below it. Our precautions against the savages I found were indeed necessary.

One day we were becalmed among a group of small islands, most of which appeared to be uninhabited. As we were in want of fresh water the captain sent the boat ashore to bring off a cask or two. But we were mistaken in thinking there were no natives; for scarcely had we drawn near to the shore when a band of naked blacks rushed out of the bush and assembled on the beach, brandishing their clubs and spears in a threatening manner. Our men were well armed, but refrained from showing any signs of hostility, and rowed nearer in order to converse with the natives; and I now found that more than one of the crew could imperfectly speak dialects of the language peculiar to the South Sea islanders. When within forty yards of the shore, we ceased rowing, and the first mate stood up to address the multitude; but, instead of answering us, they replied with a shower of stones, some of which cut the men severely. Instantly our muskets were levelled, and a volley was about to be fired, when the captain hailed us in a loud voice from the schooner, which lay not more than five or six hundred yards off the shore.

“Don’t fire,” he shouted, angrily. “Pull off to the point ahead of you.”

The men looked surprised at this order, and uttered deep curses as they prepared to obey, for their wrath was roused and they burned for revenge. Three or four of them hesitated, and seemed disposed to mutiny.

“Don’t distress yourselves, lads,” said the mate, while a bitter smile curled his lip. “Obey orders. The captain’s not the man to take an insult tamely. If Long Tom does not speak presently I’ll give myself to the sharks.”

The men smiled significantly as they pulled from the shore, which was now crowded with a dense mass of savages, amounting, probably, to five or six hundred. We had not rowed off above a couple of hundred yards when a loud roar thundered over the sea, and the big brass gun sent a withering shower of grape point blank into the midst of the living mass, through which a wide lane was cut, while a yell, the like of which I could not have imagined, burst from the miserable survivors as they fled to the woods. Amongst the heaps of dead that lay on the sand, just where they had fallen, I could distinguish mutilated forms writhing in agony, while ever and anon one and another rose convulsively from out the mass, endeavoured to stagger towards the wood, and ere they had taken a few steps, fell and wallowed on the bloody sand. My blood curdled within me as I witnessed this frightful and wanton slaughter; but I had little time to think, for the captain’s deep voice came again over the water towards us: “Pull ashore, lads, and fill your water casks.” The men obeyed in silence, and it seemed to me as if even their hard hearts were shocked by the ruthless deed. On gaining the mouth of the rivulet at which we intended to take in water, we found it flowing with blood, for the greater part of those who were slain had been standing on the banks of the stream, a short way above its mouth. Many of the wretched creatures had fallen into it, and we found one body, which had been carried down, jammed between two rocks, with the staring eyeballs turned towards us and his black hair waving in the ripples of the blood-red stream. No one dared to oppose our landing now, so we carried our casks to a pool above the murdered group, and having filled them, returned on board. Fortunately a breeze sprang up soon afterwards and carried us away from the dreadful spot; but it could not waft me away from the memory of what I had seen.

“And this,” thought I, gazing in horror at the captain, who, with a quiet look of indifference, leaned upon the taffrail smoking a cigar and contemplating the fertile green islets as they passed like a lovely picture before our eyes—“this is the man who favours the missionaries because they are useful to him and can tame the savages better than any one else can do it!” Then I wondered in my mind whether it were possible for any missionary to tame him!

CHAPTER XXIV.

Bloody Bill is communicative and sagacious—Unpleasant prospects—Retrospective meditations interrupted by volcanic agency—The pirates negotiate with a Feejee chief—Various etceteras that are calculated to surprise and horrify.

It was many days after the events just narrated ere I recovered a little of my wonted spirits. I could not shake off the feeling for a long time that I was in a frightful dream, and the sight of our captain filled me with so much horror that I kept out of his way as much as my duties about the cabin would permit. Fortunately he took so little notice of me that he did not observe my changed feelings towards him, otherwise it might have been worse for me.

But I was now resolved that I would run away the very first island we should land at, and commit myself to the hospitality of the natives rather than remain an hour longer than I could help in the pirate schooner. I pondered this subject a good deal, and at last made up my mind to communicate my intention to Bloody Bill; for, during several talks I had had with him of late, I felt assured that he too would willingly escape if possible. When I told him of my design he shook his head. “No, no, Ralph,” said he, “you must not think of running away here. Among some of the groups of islands you might do so with safety, but if you tried it here you would find that you had jumped out of the fryin’ pan into the fire.”

“How so, Bill?” said I, “would the natives not receive me?”

“That they would, lad; but they would eat you too.”

“Eat me!” said I in surprise, “I thought the South Sea islanders never ate anybody except their enemies.”

“Humph!” ejaculated Bill. “I s’pose ’twas yer tender-hearted friends in England that put that notion into your head. There’s a set o’ soft-hearted folk at home that I knows on, who don’t like to have their feelin’s ruffled, and when you tell them anything they don’t like—that shocks them, as they call it—no matter how true it be, they stop their ears and cry out, ‘Oh, that is too horrible! We can’t believe that!’ An’ they say truth. They can’t believe it ’cause they won’t believe it. Now, I believe there’s thousands o’ the people in England who are sich born drivellin’ won’t-believers that they think the black fellows hereaway, at the worst, eat an enemy only now an’ then, out o’ spite; whereas, I know for certain, and many captains of the British and American navies know as well as me, that the Feejee islanders eat not only their enemies but one another; and they do it not for spite, but for pleasure. It’s a fact that they prefer human flesh to any other. But they don’t like white men’s flesh so well as black. They say it makes them sick.”

“Why, Bill,” said I, “you told me just now that they would eat me if they caught me.”

“So I did; and so I think they would. I’ve only heard some o’ them say they don’t like white men so well as black; but if they was hungry they wouldn’t be particular. Anyhow, I’m sure they would kill you. You see, Ralph, I’ve been a good while in them parts, and I’ve visited the different groups of islands oftentimes as a trader. And thorough goin’ blackguards some o’ them traders are. No better than pirates, I can tell you. One captain that I sailed with was not a chip better than the one we’re with now. He was tradin’ with a friendly chief one day, aboard his vessel. The chief had swam off to us with the things for trade tied a-top of his head, for them chaps are like otters in the water. Well, the chief was hard on the captain, and would not part with some o’ his things. When their bargainin’ was over they shook hands, and the chief jumped over board to swim ashore; but before he got forty yards from the ship the captain seized a musket and shot him dead. He then hove up anchor and put to sea, and as we sailed along shore, he dropped six black-fellows with his rifle, remarkin’ that ‘that would spoil the trade for the next comers.’ But, as I was sayin’, I’m up to the ways o’ these fellows. One o’ the laws o’ the country is, that every shipwrecked person who happens to be cast ashore, be he dead or alive, is doomed to be roasted and eaten. There was a small tradin’ schooner wrecked off one of these islands when we were lyin’ there in harbour during a storm. The crew was lost, all but three men, who swam ashore. The moment they landed they were seized by the natives and carried up into the woods. We knew pretty well what their fate would be, but we could not help them, for our crew was small, and if we had gone ashore they would likely have killed us all. We never saw the three men again; but we heard frightful yelling, and dancing, and merry-making that night; and one of the natives, who came aboard to trade with us next day, told us that the long pigs, as he called the men, had been roasted and eaten, and their bones were to be converted into sail needles. He also said that white men were bad to eat, and that most o’ the people on shore were sick.”

I was very much shocked and cast down

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