CHAPTER II.
Push forward for the Society Islands. Driven into Magellan Straits by stress of weather. Anchor in a land-locked bay. Search for fresh water. Attacked by savages. Serious injuries to Capt. Davis and one of the crew. Return to the schooner and make sail for the open ocean. Resolve to return to England. Finally lay our course for Easter Island.
We had proceeded but a very short way towards the Society Islands whena terrific storm arose from the westward, driving us back upon thecoast of South America. We lay to for many days, bending down beforethe blast, and drifting all the time rapidly to the southward andeastward; till one morning we discovered land broad off our lee beam,and, by a forenoon observation which the captain obtained, we foundthat we were off the western opening of the Straits of Magellan, andwe soon put the schooner's head before the howling blast and ran infor shelter, rest, and repairs. We came up with the land very rapidlyunder easy sail, and passed the frowning cliffs and rocks on our porthand, not over a mile distant, as we knew we had plenty of water andto spare. After having passed the opening we hauled the schooner upon the port tack, heading her well up to the northward, intending tofind some quiet land-locked cove where we could anchor and repair thedamages--small in detail, but quite grave in the aggregate--that wehad received in our buffeting of the last ten days.
About eight bells in the forenoon we found ourselves well inside theland, and with a smooth sea and a good fair working breeze, we kept theland well on the port beam and gradually crawled in toward it.
At about 4 P. M. we estimated that we were twenty miles inside theheadlands, and having come to an arm of a bay trending well to thenorthward, we hauled the schooner sharp on a wind and steered into it;we discovered soon that it was about ten miles deep and thirty wide asnear as we could judge; and as we came toward the head of the bay wefound that we could run into a small inner bay of about three miles inarea, with evidently smooth water and good anchorage. Into this innerbay or anchorage we quietly sailed and let go an anchor in six fathomsof water, and at a distance of about one mile from the shore.
When the sails were all properly furled, and everything put in"ship-shape and Bristol fashion," as the saying is amongst sailors, wehad time to look about us; and the motion of the vessel having ceased,and the creaking of the masts and cordage, the flapping of the sails,and the usual noises of the sea, having come to an end, we were struckwith the awful and sublime solitude of our surroundings. By this timethe moon had risen, and by its light we saw the shadowy shapes ofmonstrous cliffs and miniature headlands covered with tangled forestsof a species of pine, mirrored in the little bay in which we hung atanchor; but not one sound of life, no lights on shore, no cry of birdor beast, but the depressing, awful solitude of an unknown land; nonoise except the graceful rise of the "Good Luck" to the miniaturewaves of the bay as she lay at anchor with twenty fathoms of chain out.We all spoke in whispers, so awe-striking was the scenery, and when weset the anchor watch and turned in it was unanimously conceded that wehad little to fear in landing on the morrow either from natives or wildbeasts.
Glad enough were we, after our long fight with the stormy ocean, toturn into our berths. It was chilly, although now past the middle ofOctober, yet we saw no snow upon the ground, and the air had the smellof spring and verdure. This was easily accounted for when we rememberedthat in reality we were in the latter part of April as to seasons, andthat we were no further south, than Great Britain is north, as concernslatitude. No doubt, also, the climate was favorably affected by thisgreat arm of salt water penetrating the land. At any rate we hadnothing to complain of on the score of ice and snow, which we shouldhave found in plenty had we arrived a month or two earlier. Our captainhad some very good traits, and was very systematic. For instance, hesaid that he would never allow a boat to leave the vessel to visit theshore, to be gone even an hour, without being properly rationed, andwith flint, steel, and tinder, and also two large tin canisters filledwith garden seeds. He had a hobby that it was our duty to plant seedsin all of the out-of-the-way places that we visited, for the good ofthose who might come after us. Carrying out these ideas, he had hadour whaleboat on deck--whilst we were running by the land--righted andfilled with the above-named articles, ready for use in the morning;that is to say, he had ordered to be put on board of her cooked rationsfor six days for four men, two breakers of fresh water, one bag of hardtack, a compass, two large tin canisters with water-tight screw-heads,filled with peas, beans, cucumber seeds, one hatchet, one knife, and aspare coil of rope.
The next morning, when we arose, there was a general desire to landupon the unknown coast, and we bethought ourselves of the plan ofdrawing lots to see who should stay on board and who go ashore, as thevessel would need the care of at least three hands, leaving four of usto go in the boat. Lots were drawn, and the privilege of going in theboat fell upon Captain Davis, two of the sailors, and myself. I wasoverjoyed at the opportunity of exploring this new world. Captain Davistold us to arm ourselves well with rifles and revolvers, and to be inreadiness to start after breakfast, sharp.
No pleasanter party ever shoved off from a vessel's side than weon that pleasant October morning. We soon reached the shore, and,pulling up the boat upon the beach, were soon roaming here and there,stretching our legs and enjoying the novelty of our position. It wasevident that the place was a complete solitude, and we doubted if anycivilized persons had ever visited the shores of the bay before.
We wanted most of all things a supply of fresh water, and to this endwe wandered somewhat apart and towards the upper part of the bay,concealed by overjetting cliffs, to see if there was not some stream orriver flowing into it. After a little we heard a cry of delight from acomrade in advance, and hastening toward him found that after turninga short and abrupt point of rocks, a river of some considerable widthlay before our eyes, evidently navigable with a small boat for somemiles, but, as far as the eye could extend, no sign of any habitation.We ran gayly back to the boat, launched her, and soon pulled round theoverhanging cliff that had concealed the presence of the river from us.
I should judge that we had pulled some five or six miles when we beganto get hungry, and thought by the sun that it was about noon, and thatwe would land and eat our dinner. Up to this time we had found no sidebrook or spring entering the main river, and each turn was so enticingthat we kept on passing bend after bend.
We landed upon a nice sandy beach, and soon had a pot boiling, and someclams, of which there were vast quantities in the sand, cooking uponhot stones. We made a capital meal, and after a good smoke took ouroars again and went on up the river. Shall I ever forget the ending ofthat pleasant day? As we were chatting and passing a bend, and openinga new reach, in one moment of time our ears were filled with awfulshrieks and shouts, and we had become the centre of a perfect shower ofmissiles from the cliff underneath the base of which we had just passed.
Our first instinct was to drop our oars and grasp the firearms, anda dropping, irregular fire into the bushes at the foot of the bendand towards the higher cliff towering above us brought to a suddencessation the shower of stones with which we had been assailed, andwith wild cries of fear, pain, and awe these untutored savages fledinto the dense forest behind them.
I was amazed at the ease with which we had repelled them, until Ibethought me that probably our firearms were the first they had everheard. I wondered why we had not fired more, and quicker, and turningmy eyes from their disappearing bodies, I saw, with horror, the cause.Captain Davis lay in the stern sheets of the boat with a large stoneacross both legs, dropped evidently from the cliff, which was sometwenty or thirty feet above us, upon them. He had fainted away, orelse was dead from some other wound, for he did not offer to stir orremove the stone. I glanced towards my other two comrades, and found,upon examination, one with a serious fracture of the left arm, which,however, did not prevent his holding on to his revolver in a mostdetermined manner, and the other with only a few slight bruises. Ibeckoned him to come aft and help lift the st
one off the captain'slegs, we did so, and threw water in his face to revive him. We darednot imagine how bad his injuries were, and left him lying as we foundhim, after throwing overboard the stone, which undoubtedly wouldhave gone through the bottom of the boat and sunk us, if it had notencountered the legs of the captain in its descent. As for our othercomrade, we bound up his arm as best we could. I felt dizzy and weak,but did not suspect any serious injury. All that I have written wasperformed quickly, as sailors always act in an emergency. Bill Thompsonand I soon got the boat's head pointed down stream, and the way wepulled for the ship was a sight to behold; pausing once in awhile tolift a hand and explode a revolver to keep the savages from attackingus again; but they had evidently had enough of it, for we saw no signsof them, and after a long and arduous pull we came to the ship's side,and sad was the news that we had for our comrades. We slung the boatand hoisted her on board, and I ordered the anchor to be weighed atonce, and we set sail from this treacherous bay. It was found uponexamination that one of the captain's legs was broken, evidently acompound fracture, and the other much bruised and inflamed. He wascarried with care and affection to his stateroom, and I took charge ofthe deck. The sailor's arm was found to be a simple fracture, and wesoon had it in splints and himself in his berth. After the schoonerwas fairly under way and heading out of the bay, I went below to mystateroom, and found that I had received several severe blows, butnone that had drawn blood, except in the back of my head, where Ifound the hair under my cap bloody and matted together. This it wasthat had made me dizzy, although my excitement had been so great thatI could not fix where the pain was till all was over. I washed myself,and went on deck again, to remain there during the night and run theschooner out into the open sea. What thoughts passed through my brainas the little vessel gallantly slipped along by the land, towards theocean!--what in the world were we to do should Captain Davis die,and where were we to recruit, for during the long watches of thatnight it was agreed that we had become too short handed to prosecuteour enterprise, and that the best thing that we could do would beto make our way back to England and start afresh; but after a longconsultation, it was acknowledged that we were in no condition to faceCape Horn, and that we must get somewhere to recruit before we dareattempt the passage home. The captain, who had his senses perfectly,although suffering bodily pain, said "that we must make one of theeasterly of the Society Islands before attempting to go home, and thererecruit ourselves, overhaul the vessel, and by that time he should knowwhat he was to expect of his own health, but feared that his injurieswere beyond mortal aid." Towards morning the open sea appeared ahead,and at about eight bells, we issued from the mouth of Magellan Straits,and I laid the course of the schooner northwest, so as to hit EasterIsland, or some of the islands further to the westward should the windhaul. At two bells in the forenoon we were bowling along on our coursewith everything set, and a fine working breeze from north-northeast,and a smooth sea. Of course we talked over the disastrous trip of theday before, and, as in all such cases, wondered why we did not do soand so, and why we were not more careful, etc., but to what good. Thedeed was done: our comrade with his broken arm, and our captain withhis broken leg, were mute reminders of our folly and carelessness. Mygreatest fear at this time was that we should lose the captain, andthat his duties would devolve upon me. He seemed throughout this dayslightly better, but upon examination we found that we could not sethis leg as we had the sailor's arm, and that, although he complained oflittle pain, his leg had a puffed and swollen appearance, and I fearedthe worst. I was somewhat in favor of changing the course and makinga port on the South American coast; but the captain would not hear ofit. He said "you can at least get to the Society Islands and land yourcargo in some port under some flag where it will be safely kept tillyou return to England for a new crew. I shall not get well any sooner,if at all, on the South American coast than I shall in the SocietyIslands. We are bound by honor to push the adventure to its legitimateend, or as near it as possible." This and many other convincing thingswere uttered by him. "If my leg should have been amputated it shouldhave been done before this; and it will be too late to do anythingat Santiago as well as at Easter Island. You can still do a greatdeal towards making the adventure a success; perhaps you can even getvolunteers enough in the islands to fill up your ranks, so as not tohave to go back to England till you have your headquarters establishedand a cargo ready to ship back." And thus this sick and dying mancheered us on.
The end of the day found us with a still fresh working breeze headedfor Easter Island.
CAPTAIN DAVIS WOUNDED.--PAGE 14.]