I opened my eyes slowly. There was the taste of salt in my mouth. I was looking down a beach and there was sand as far as the eye could see. Up the beach there were palm trees. I could see the water and could hear the crash of the breakers. As I tried to move I found I was lying mostly out of the water but my shoeless feet were still in the water. The gentle little waves were still slapping against the bottoms of my feet.
What had happened? Pieces of wood drifted about me and I could see debris along the beach I was facing. Sand was everywhere, in my ears, my nose and everywhere else sand should not be. I sat up spitting the sand and salt from my mouth still wondering where I was. I had the remains of a white shirt and tailored pants on. The sea gulls flying about and on the beach went about their business unconcerned. It was a beautiful calm day at the beach but which beach and why was I here? I felt my pockets and only found a heavy door key with a tag attached. The only clue I had to what could possibly have happened to me was the name on the key and the number; „General Grant‟ and the number seven.
Was I a passenger on a ship which had sunk? The key and the debris about me suggested as much. As I sat up I discovered I was wearing a large cross under my shirt. The recent past filtered slowly back into my very tired brain. I was Patrick Coughey, missionary, on a voyage in the South Pacific to bring the word of God to the many peoples there who had never heard His word. It had been a strange sort of accident which had brought my ship to a ruinous end.
We had been looking for a reasonable place to make land on a large island which was known but was not properly charted. An unusual current had drawn us through the breakers unexpectedly. We sailed altogether too closely to a cliff trying to find a way out of our situation. We could not find a way out through the reef nor a sand beach on which to land one of our boats so we could take a better look of the island. The captain was an old salt and he felt he could find a way out of our situation as long as he kept clear of the cliffs and the crazy reef. Our position was almost unheard of in the seven seas since most sea cliffs did not have reefs beyond them. Most sea cliffs had the breakers breaking directly against them. Here a sort of calm lee was allowed by the reef. The breakers seemed to know the usual way of things and broke maddeningly against the reef some eighth to a quarter mile out from the main island. As hoped dawned, the sun began to fade. Our situation went from bad to worse when a widening in the cliff became a cave. The cave must have had a flow in it since we were immediately pushed in its direction.
Our captain howled at his crew with no time to adjust and the main mast was broke by the roof of the cave. As we were driven further into the cave and darkness fell our broken main mast was wedged between cave roof and ship. The crew had the good sense to have lamps lit and stand by the long boats. We were held fast in the position I described. Our doom was eminent. The captain allowed us to man the boats with all aboard waiting the order to abandon the ship but he himself would not leave the bridge, waiting on the inevitable. The ship, true to its name sake was tougher than expected but could not hold out against the forces working against it. The main was
driven through her keel with a sickening crash. The captain shouted for us to leave which the expert crew did as the ship broke up.
In the three smaller boats we were able to leave the cave minus our captain but it was now dark and we still had no real way of escape. The cliffs and reef situation still existed. We groped down our small passage of safety looking for a way out of our trap by lamp light when we noticed the cliffs were giving way to gentle rolling hills but still no real beach and no break in the reef with its pounding waves. Through exhaustion and mutual consent one by one the boats attempted to break free over the breakers. One after another the small boats foundered and failed. The strongest of us were now swimming, in the dark, beyond the breakers, hoping against hope to find a way to survive.
A piece of broken boat floated by and with my last strength I climbed on to it. Truly this is the last thing I remembered before waking up on the beach further down from our final tragedy. The hills had given way to a picturesque beach but it had been too late for all but me. I had come here to help spread the word of God by direction of the church. Now I was half way around the world, shipwrecked and lost.
I was empty and broken. All I had known was lost. My friends and shipmates were all taken by the sea. In my emptiness I found myself hungry and thought of how to continue. It was beginning to become warmer and I was thirsty. All I knew to do was to crawl further up the beach to get to the shade of the palms growing there. In desperation I prayed for death. I felt much as Elijah must have felt empty, alone and afraid for my life. I laid down there in the shade feeling miserable and hoping for some sort of sign or strength to know what to do next.
I must have slept some because I did not hear them. I woke for the second time, still in the location I had crawled to under the palms, staring at the kind looking faces of two young boys dressed only in the simplest of manner. They looked at me and looked at the mess made by the sprawled debris on the beach. They tried to comfort me in their language but I had no idea what they were saying to me. One stayed, still talking and playing with bits of wood from the wreck and no doubt asking me just what had happened (I am guessing of course). The other left quickly into the forest beyond the beach only to return a short time later with a gourd filled with water. He handed the water to me with a tremendous smile. I drank the sweetest fresh water I had ever drunk.
Content I was not in immediate danger, they left, leaving me the water. I was grateful but I wondered was this real and what could possibly happen next. I slept again and woke again in what must have been well after noon. The two boys had brought two young men back with them to show them their find. I must have looked as strange to them as they did to me. I offered no resistance as they examined me, apparently to see how injured I was. They seemed to pass judgment that I was only banged up by the surf and suffering from exposure.
I was still sitting in the shade of a palm tree as they discussed in their very foreign language what to do with me. I at least assumed they were discussing me and my condition. They must have come to a conclusion because they stopped talking and stared at me. The boy who gave me the
water retrieved his gourd leaving me to wonder what their conclusion had been. The larger of the two men assisted me in standing. I could walk with his help and they walked into the forest guiding me down a trail I had not noticed before.
It was a long walk and I started to feel the bumps and bruises I had received on the reef and in the surf. I thought I must have had shoes on when we abandoned ship but they did not make it with me to the beach. I missed my shoes now as we walked on through the woods. They were all bare foot but I was not accustomed to walking anywhere outside the house without shoes. I had to lean heavier on my guide as we continued on. I did know they were taking care of me so I tried not to show concern for my feet and the long walk.
Ahead of us was a clearing. I saw many primitive huts with a few larger ones in the middle arranged in an orderly fashion displaying a sort of courtyard in the very middle of the community. My guides led me past the smaller huts on the outside of the community straight to one of the larger ones in the middle. They sat me down in the shade near one directly facing the courtyard. One of the two young men went into the hut and shortly came out with an older man who was somewhat more distinguishly dressed than the others. The older man talked to the man who had been my guide from the beach for a short moment. Then my guide vanished into the forest rather quickly. I will call the older man the chief since I have no real idea who he was. This chief came closer to me and sat down next to me just outside the range of being able to touch me.
He did speak to me but it was no dialect I could fathom. The two boys who had initially found me had brought the tribes other children to examine their find. I was attracting quite the crowd. I noticed no grown women until now. Som
e younger women appeared, my guess looking for their children. The women were attractive; relatively, considering the setting, and dressed conservatively for native peoples. I found a few of these women giving me the close study. I had a feeling they might be the key to this culture. If I proved unacceptable to them I might be abandoned to my own devices. I knew survival skills but could not possibly know the island and where its resources existed. I would need this tribe to survive.
After what seemed to be a long time but may have been as little as fifteen minutes (my sense of time was still not what it should be), my guide reappeared with another older gentleman. He was not dressed like the chief but was dressed colorfully with feathers and other assorted natural items which had bright colors. Tribes were organized the same no matter where you went. This man would most certainly be their shaman or medicine man. The shaman walked up the chief. The two senior men talked alone together for some time. The shaman shook his head and protested but the chief was the boss. Finally, the shaman hung his head and walked over to me.
He did not sit as close as the chief had sat next to me. He said little and stared a lot. An older woman came up behind him who I had not noticed before. She bent down and whispered in the shaman’s ear. The shaman looked at her with surprise but said nothing.
She sat down and asked in broken English, “Are you British?”.
I was surprised to say the least. They had had contact with the outside world or at least this older woman had.
“No Mam, I am American.”, I answered in English, but did not know if she understood me.
She sort of looked at me strange but said nothing else. She whispered something else to the shaman who looked even more irritated when she did so. The older woman walked straight up to the chief and they talked shortly. Then they both came up to me. She started by saying,
“I will speak for him.” I clearly understood she would translate the best she could for the chief.
“Who are you?”.
“I am Patrick Coughey, from the United States.” “Why are you here?”
“I was shipwrecked here. I don’t even know where ‘here’ is.” She ignored my attempt to understand where I was. She was of a certain status within the tribe that was very clear to me. She was allowed to talk to anyone and dressed as if she held a higher status. I thought it was a fair question for me to ask where I was and who they were. The answer I got was not what I had expected.
“We are the civilized people. You are in our home.” That response left me wondering just how isolated these people were. She spoke English but no one else seemed to understand nor care to understand English.
“Can you help me to be found? I will be of no trouble and can assist you if will allow me to pitch
in here.”
“You have been found. We are now trying to decide what to do with you. I have met outsiders before but never has there been people from the outside on this island. People from the outside do one of two things. They are either gentle and leave other civilized people in peace or they are very rude and sometimes start fights with the civilized people. Outsiders on other islands have the reputation of not listening to the civilized people and destroying things. Our advisor suggests we should not help you. He suspects you might even be dangerous. We live in peace here and want to be allowed to continue to live in peace without disturbance from more outsiders. You are here by an accident. You may be allowed to stay.”
“Thank you.”, was all I knew to say. I understood her English well enough.
“The boys who found you tell us there are many broken items on the beach where you were found.
You should not travel. We will bring to you things we find which may help you.”
“I appreciate your kindness more than you may realize. I thought I was dead. I have no way to repay you.” The chief said something to me which sounded important. Then he looked at the older woman to translate.
“You are welcome but you might wish you had been lost. Life on the islands and on this island in particular is not easy. We spend much of our time growing or finding the food we need to survive. You will be given a sort of nurse and assistant. My son asks that you learn to speak as the civilized people speak. Your assistant is responsible for teaching you to speak.”
I had not noticed her before but as the chief’s mother finished translating the chief’s instructions, she gently led a young woman who was moderately dressed from behind where she was standing to in front of her. I understood without being told she was my nurse/teacher. I nodded and looked into the face of the girl/young woman who had been presented to me. She simply grasped me by the hand to help stand and led me off to one of the huts near the forest on the edge of the compound.
I had fallen on good fortune. I was lucky to survive the shipwreck and the subsequent events after. I could have easily drowned or died from exposure on the beach. I was hurt and almost helpless but these „civilized people‟ were treating me very well. My nurse showed me a mat like bed and I laid down hoping for a long sleep. She smiled at me but was not content to let me sleep immediately. She looked me all over, and I do mean all over, then she started to clean my worst injuries. I cringed when she touched a spot which hurt more than most. She also noted the mess I had made of my feet. She poked at the blisters but left them alone. I tried to be a good patient but I was exhausted. She finally let me sleep.
I woke up and it was dark. I had to think, yes, I was in a native village and my life was in their hands. My nurse was missing but I discovered she had left me some sandals. She knew my feet were not ready for the forest without protection. These people grew up without ever wearing shoes but knew sandals. The chief’s mother had seen outsiders and learned English from them. She most likely had been a peace offering to solidify the stability between island communities. This island had contact with other islands which had contact with the outside world. I hoped they would eventually help me to get to an island which foreign travelers visited. There in was my hope for rescue. I may get home in one piece someday.
The chief’s mother had mentioned having usable salvage brought to me from the ship. What was left? We were on a peaceful mission sponsored by the church. This was a mission trip, nothing more. Yes, it was just after the American Civil War. I had fought in that bloody mess. I was with Sherman when he burned Atlanta. I felt the pain and heart break of the people we terrorized into submission. We fought to save the Union. They had fought for their families; their property; and their very lives. I did feel guilty from time to time. Even before I learned my family had been killed in a house fire, I felt we had gone too far. The irony was not lost on me. We had burned our way to the sea trying to make those proud people submit to surrender at the same time my family perished in a fire. I had lost everything. We kept the Union but at what cost? The church was looking for volunteers and I needed time to get my life back together. I signed up to help bring the Word of God to far away peoples. The South Pacific and around into the beginning of the Indian Ocean, many native peoples were just beginning to be known by the outside world. The church was offering them salvation. In helping the native cultures learn about God, I was to be regaining my peace of mind.
That had been my thought anyway. Now I knew I was lucky to be alive but also wondered if I would see Maryland again. Did I even want to go back? I had left because nothing was left to keep me there. Did I care if these people would not help me find a way home? I slipped on the sandals and walked outside. Dawn would be soon and I was feeling much better with the sleep. I did have new sandals but would need a change of clothes. I thought about my army training and
reflected on the Indian scouts who had trained us to survive without rations. How little did I know that training might be a God send half way around the world? The culture which had saved me was self-sufficient but I could teach them things they could use. Was that ethical? Should someone from the nineteen
century thrust the whole modern world onto a people who did not know nor care which century they were in?
In the dark I could see several crates from the ship on the ground behind the hut in which I had been sleeping. True to their word, they brought everything they felt could be salvaged. I smiled to myself and hoped some of my personal belongings had been found. Only then did I wonder if there were any dangerous animals on the island. It was a big island. We spent the better part of a night trying to escape it. I was the only survivor; that I knew about. Where on this island were those infamous cliffs? Where was the cave in which the ship sank? I thought about the captain, the crew and all my fellow passengers. I would have to put those thoughts behind me. I intended to keep on surviving.
I went back to the hut just as the sun came up. I sat on my mat and waited for my nurse to arrive. My part of the deal was to learn their language. I did not know what language it was. I would have to learn like a baby, by association. As I was wondering how to say „hello‟ my assistant appeared in the doorway. She smiled at me and saw I had found her sandals. I said „Thank you‟, but it was no use. She looked at me when I spoke but only continued with her duties. She checked my wounds and studied my feet. It had only been a long night but I must have passed inspection. She smiled again, she could tell I had been out walking around on my own.
She pointed to the mat I had slept on and slowly said a word. It must have been their word for
‘bed’. I repeated it the best I heard it. She nodded and said the word again. I repeated it again. On and on I was taught their language. It took time but I was able to say simple things to other tribe members as time went by. They were always patient and would smile and correct my pronunciation at times.
I healed well and my nurse was only my assistant now. I asked to talk to the chief. It had been some time since he had seen me and I believe he wanted to check on my progress. I was led to his hut and my assistant went in first. She stuck her head out and motioned for me to enter. I had not been in any of the larger hut before. Only the ranking members of the tribe lived in these. The chief had the largest and the most central hut. He sat in front of a small fire. I thought of the Indian scouts who had trained me.
I said good morning the best I could and he nodded. He asked me in their language how I was feeling. I told him very well. He seemed pleased I was using their language. His mother was present. She asked me in English if I had found anything useful in the materials brought up from the beach. I told her yes and thank you very much. Some of my personal clothes had survived and I had found other clothes which I could use. There were some small weapons but I had put them aside. I did not need them here. My religious material had survived including a case of bibles. I had a small one with me and held it up explaining this was the reason for my trip.
They did not mind the bible and shook their heads. I explained as the chief’s mother translated. I waited for them to ask me what was really on their minds. After a pause and some stirring of the fire, they asked me about the ship and how we had come so far form our homes. I told them about the world of sailing ships and how the world’s oceans had been explored and mapped. In the name of God we had set out on a mission to find and help people such as them. The chief laughed at this. How could we help them? I was the one needing their help. I had expected this and had brought a knife and a flint with me just for this purpose. I did not know how they started their fires here or if they had happened across a wildfire and brought the fire back with them and always kept at least a small fire burning at all times. I was guessing they could have done it either way but could not know about flint and steel.
I gathered the small fire materials I needed from their supply on the side of the hut. I cleared a small space in front of the chief and proceeded to build small fire. Using dry moss and shredded leaves, I was able to light my fire with the flint and steel (my knife) without too much difficulty. The chief smiled and nodded his head. I might have contributions to his people after all.
I had not noticed but while I had been lighting my fire, the chief’s mother had picked up my small bible and was studying it. Could she possibly read? To my surprise she had a basic reading level. I found out later the British had set up a small whaling resupply station on her native island. Out of boredom the British sailors had taught her English and shared the few books they had with her. She was young then and knew they were being nice to have the company of the young woman about. She had been of high status on her island and knew if any trouble happened it would be dealt with most seriously.
She saw me watching her read my bible and smiled and put it down. My progress had met the chief’s approval and he knew I must have other knowledge he could use. I asked if I could travel around the island to see where they hunted and farmed their bitter but edible potato like roots. He agreed. The chief’s mother followed me outside as I was dismissed. She asked me if she could read my bible some more. I said of course. I told her there was a whole case of bibles behind my hut.
I gave her my bible, knowing she would return it. I then asked my assistant to show me the farming fields, to give me the cheap tour so to speak. She was happy to do so. She told me I would not need her help for much longer. I still felt their language was hard and I had a lot to learn still. She laughed and said who does not?
I liked my sandals and would not go beyond the compound without them. My assistant allowed me to retrieve them before she led me out into the jungle. I remembered from, that terrible night of the shipwreck this island was large and had greater altitude than I was seeing around the village and the beach. As we walked down a trail I noted we were entering a small valley which narrowed and increased in height as we went. After a short distance the little valley opened into a large clearing with small, mountain like hills in the background. A creek ran by the clearing on one of its perimeters with the hills. A few small ponds could be seen in this area I will call the farm. I saw rows of uniform plants with large leaves. I pointed at the crops and my guide pulled
one out of the ground showing me the large potato like central root the plant had on it. She then carefully replanted the plant. Food could not be wasted here.
I asked her if they hunted and fished here. She said of course. They were a people of the sea and lived off of its bounty. There were animals on the island. They eat some of the small rodent animals and a few of the birds. There was a larger cat like animal they feared and would not hunt. I tried to get her to tell me more about this animal but she refused. She told me we had seen enough for now. She would show me their fishing ponds later after we had eaten and rested.
I was thinking about how to approach my original mission, after all God would want these people to know the word of God. These people lived like Adam and Eve but had never been expelled from the Garden of Eden. Could they possibly know evil the way the outside world knew evil. I had to remind myself there was no real utopia. They struggled to survive and feared a large animal on their island. The chief’s mother was from another island. Inter-culture marriage was not uncommon to settle wars, other disputes and to solidify peace agreements. They knew evil. They were at peace. Did I have the right to disturb that in any way?
We got back to the village and the chief’s mother was looking for me. She asked me what was my roll on the mission trip. I told her I was one of the lay person missionaries. She smiled at me and wanted to talk more later. I wondered what else had the British taught the old lady? Was this the reason I had survived? Did God want me to introduce Christianity to the island?
The chief saw me talking to his mother and walked up as we finished talking. He asked me how I had enjoyed my tour. I told him it was interesting. He asked if I knew about farming in my home country. I told him yes, of course, I had a large garden at home before the war from which we put up enough for us and many of our neighbors for the whole winter. I began to see the method to
the chief’s ways. He had allowed me to see the farm on purpose. He wanted my help to increase their yield and maybe to show them what else they could grow. There was some food stuffs which had survived the shipwreck. I wondered if any of the corn was still viable enough to grow.
After lunch and a short nap, I dug through the remains of the ship stores which had made it as far as my hut. I did find some dried corn, tied together in the usual manner, in amongst the cookware. Lucky for me our cook had his private stash. I showed the corn to the chief and he smiled.
I was able to show them to use irrigation more effectively and fashioned crude hoes so they could get the weeds out of their crop. I was allowed a small piece of ground to test my corn seed. To my delight it did grow. The chief’s plan of allowing me to help would pay off with huge dividends.
The chief’s mother talked about scripture and Christ with me. I was more than happy to discuss her interests. I did feel a twang of guilt I did not introduce the wonders of Christ to the rest of the tribe. I would have time for that later. I was quite busy with my farming pursuits. All was going well and the thought I should be trying to find a way to another island so I could go home faded. Was this my home now? I had started looking at the young women with more than a passing interest. Could I begin my life again here? I was struggling with these conflicting goals when it
happened. The animal they feared had killed a small child playing on the edge of the compound. Never had the animal come so close to the village before.
I thought of the small cache of weapons brought up from the ship. I had put them aside since they were not needed here. I told the chief I may be able to help them with their problem animal. He looked surprised at me and asked how. I showed him one of the muzzleloaders which was still in its shipping grate. I produced a lead ball from the pile I had hidden. He added two and two together quickly. He did not understand it but got the idea the ball could be fired from the rifle. He warned me the cat was crafty and may get the best of me. I understood. He said the cat usually lived in the mountains far from the compound. He would send two warriors with me to guide me and help me track the killer.
The next day we set out early. I had enough powder for several shots. I secretly knew if I did not kill it with one shot the animal would have a chance to kill me. There would be only one shot. We tracked the animal back into the hills. There was a cave high up which would be perfect for such an animal. I dared not enter the cave but did set up an ambush for the beast outside of its lair. Why had it ventured so far from its normal hunting grounds? The usual was an animal became dangerous when it was old or hurt. I did not care. If I was able to rid the tribe of this menace they would be eternally crateful and I might be able to ask them to let me go home.
I had been trained by an American Indian so I knew not to let my scent linger in the area. I sent my two guides back to the village. They were happy to leave. I was left alone with my thoughts and a large cat which now had a reason to hunt people. I knew if I was discovered the animal would circle behind me in its own attempt at an ambush. Aware of this I kept scanning the trees behind me. I waited for hours and it grew hot.
I had water with me but the sweat was starting to get into my eyes. As I wiped the sweat from my face yet again I scanned the trees behind me again and there it was. Sure enough, I was discovered, maybe because I was sweating so much but now I was on the defensive. I kept an eye on it and as slowly as possible began to move the barrel of my rifle toward the animal. I almost got to the point I could take proper aim, almost.
The cat must have sensed the danger and pounced from its position behind me. I had to move quickly and get a shot off. Time sort of slowed down. I was able to get the muzzle in the direction of the cat as it soared toward me. I sort of aimed and pulled the trigger. No miss fires thank goodness, the 45 caliber muzzleloader did not fail to fire. I had tried to aim center mass on the cat but it was moving so quickly, I had no real idea exactly where my shot would go. It dropped lifelessly at my feet. The only possible shot which would save me a mauling was a kill shot. I must have split its heart into. I felt so much relief I had no description for the feeling I had when I saw the cat fall dead at my feet.
I had brushed death again and lived. God Himself must want me to live, is all I could think and I laid there staring at the cat for some minutes. The tribe would not believe me if I did not show them the dead cat so I tied a sort of rope around its feet and began to drag it out of the mountains. I had heard about the cats of South America but did not expect such and animal on my mission
trip. I was very glad the people who had planned for the trip had prepared for the worst, the unknown. I would keep the muzzleloader in my hut for now on. The cat was heavy and I was almost out of water.
The evening breeze picked up and I felt my second wind. I was able to make steady progress and made the village as darkness fell. It had taken all day but my effort had not been in vain. The chief himself ran out to meet me. The expression on his face said it all. I would be treated differently from now on. No more children would die because of this cat. I had earned my position in the tribe. I was one of them now. I was glad the day was over. I wanted something to eat and to go to bed. I could wait until tomorrow to find out the verdict of the tribe to my success.
I had only really wanted help traveling to another island so I could find passage home when outsiders did visit. Yes, I had entertained ideas of staying but I would eventually miss the modern world. When the chief summoned me the next day it was not early. They had let me sleep in peace. I went straight away still in the mind set I was a lowly visitor and needed to show my respect all the time. The chief was still as excited as he had been the evening before. I understood the basics of their language but he had his mother translate into English again. He told me I had done the tribe a great service and my reward was to be granted a high position within the tribe, second only to the shaman (who strangely was not present). I was to be a sort of advisor. I could do that. They were teaching me what they knew and I enjoyed teaching them what I thought they could use.
I was given a large hut on the courtyard and treated like a junior chief by the rest of the tribe. I taught them snares and traps so if another dangerous animal came about they would be able to stop it themselves. They did not ask about the muzzleloader and I did not show it nor explain it to them. I kept it in my new hut and left the rest of the ship’s weapons well hidden in the woods behind my old hut. My old nurse and assistant was much more talkative with me and it did seem she was flirting a very „civilized‟ way. They knew I was alone. I had only paid casual notice to the women on the island. I did not need the trouble of a jealous tribal member. The chief’s mother still quizzed me about scripture and sometimes we had lively discussions. No other tribal member ever bothered and I did not press the issue.
Yes, I had been sent here to teach the bible but my real thought now was continued survival and passage home. The chief showed he liked me and I never saw the shaman any more. One day the chief asked me if I wished a woman for my own. I explained marriage and also told him I had lost my wife and family before I left my home. He explained all man and woman agreements were approved only by him. They could have only one mate. It did seem to me they had a sort of marriage arrangement without the paperwork or the minister. I told him I was interested but it might be difficult if I went home. He looked shocked and told me this was my home now. I told him I was sorry and meant no offense. He smiled and told me he understood. His mother sometimes still missed her home island and she had been on this island since before he had been born.
Things started to change after the ‘marriage’ discussion with the chief. More young women
stopped to talk to me and offered to show me parts of the island I had not visited yet. The chief
said nothing so he knew and approved. I slowly forget I was anything but one of t
hem. I knew the shaman was jealous of me and that is why he hid out in the mountains most of the time now. I chose a „wife‟ who was none else than my original nurse. She beamed with pride when I asked her if she wanted to be mine. That was the closest thing we had to an engagement. She immediately ran to the chief to ask his permission. The chief agreed with a huge smile. He told me this was to be a time a celebration. His mother talked to me less about the bible and more about the future here on the island. I wondered who the parents of my betrothed were. She seemed to understand and led me to the chief.
He understood the situation and explained she was his niece. Her parents had both been killed in a storm. They had been fishing and were not able to get back to shore before they were lost in a raging sea. She never mentioned the tragedy. The chief had finished raising her as his own daughter. I had no idea. In a way I would the chief’s son-in-law. They had no sense of ‘in-laws’. I would be considered a son to the chief. No one protested, not even the shaman who did visit after the „wedding‟ agreement was made known.
I had to think. I asked permission to go into the mountains to pray before the wedding celebration. They understood the spiritual world and gladly allowed me to go. Was I betraying my mission to these people? Did I care anymore? If I raised a family here would I ever want to go back to what had been my home? I never met any children of the chief. Would I be considered the heir to the chief’s position? Did I want to lead this primitive people? They had taken me in. They had accepted me as one of their own. They did not care I was white and taller than most of them.
The chief had no children and he was tired of trying to have a family of his own. He wanted grandchildren and his mother approved. The „wedding‟ was a great feast. I talked to the shaman more who did confide in me. He was the holder of the gathered knowledge from these people. He would have been the equivalent of a PhD in the U.S. He had a broad and wide knowledge of all the natural things on the island and practiced a spirituality something akin to the American Indians. All things in nature had their place and could teach man things. He felt related to everything he saw. I spent many hours talking to him which he seemed to enjoy.
My bride enjoyed her new position in the tribe very much. She had been a sort of a left out person since her parents had died. The tribe had let her be because of her relationship to the chief. Now she was important. She would be wife of the next chief. This thought still did not set right with me. I discussed it one day with the chief. He told me whenever I felt ready I could take over. He was tired and wanted to spend more time with his mother and not to worry about the tribe.
So there it was. I could be chief for only the asking and no one would protest. I talked at length with my wife about this and she encouraged me to take the position. I had skinned the old cat I had killed and hung it in my hut. The cat had been my ticket into this situation. I wondered why no other large animal came around. I was told the cat population was small and it avoided the tribe most of the time. One day after staring at the cat hide in my hut for a long time I decided to stay and take the position of chief. I had forgotten the reason for my mission and the old chief’s mother did not ask me biblical questions anymore.
After I made up my mind I went to the old chief’s mother and asked her opinion of my situation. She looked sad but told me it was the best thing for the tribe. I did not understand her sadness for a long time. I went to the old chief and told him I was ready to take his job. He could retire. He laughed at the word I used but called the whole tribe together to announce the news. They accepted me as chief whole heartedly.
Time went by. I did have two sons. The old chief’s mother was happy with the „great- grandchildren‟. She never spoke to me in English anymore. I had gone completely native. I did not wear the sandals anymore, even when I was in the mountains. I was content and had forgotten about the outside world. We could not be left undisturbed forever. That was my only real worry. How would I or the tribe react to outsiders they had no control over? It would happen one day. Maybe some sort of search party would come someday trying to understand the loss of the General Grant.
I asked the old chief about my concerns. He secretly admitted he worried about the same thing. His mother was proof outsiders had visited close to here long ago. I was proof the outside knew about the island. He told me he was grateful he had not banished me to my fate when I had been found. We agreed we needed a plan to protect the tribe for the eventuality of the outsiders we both feared now.
I thought about the weapons cache I had hidden behind my old hut but decided those would do this culture more harm than good. I don’t think I realized it at the time but my association with the tribe was changing me more than I would have recognized. I began to appreciate the native spiritualism the shaman and I discussed at length. I did not want to make this culture a true warrior culture. They had the right to be left alone as much as possible. My presence here, however beneficial it may be to them in the short run, was almost certainly a disruption in the long term. It was unavoidable. I could not divorce myself from who I was. The best method, for them to survive outside influence of any kind, was to be the best native culture they could be as if I was not here.
I turned to the shaman for help. He suggested I follow him into the mountains for a few days. I asked the old chief to maintain things while I was gone and made ready to go with the shaman. My wife was unconcerned. I had left and come back before. I found it strange the old chief’s mother was the most upset I was taking the course I had chosen. When I asked her to explain she refused to discuss it. When I pressed her she began to cry which drove a stake through my heart to see the old lady cry. I let the subject drop but wondered what had been so serious an issue to her.
The shaman and I left before dawn. He took me straight up into the mountains. It would be cold here at night. I brought the old cat’s hide for that purpose. I had never liked to be cold. I intended to use the hide as a blanket and a coat if need be. The shaman looked surprised when I brought it along. He said nothing. I had taken short trips into the mountains of the interior of the island but never more than a few hours at a time. I did not know the true environment here. This was not like down near the coast. Weather changed quicker and was more like the States than I wanted now.
We made camp with a small lean-to sort of wind break. We both knew the elements. Yes, the shaman was more comfortable here than I was. He began telling me why he brought me up here. He had enjoyed telling be about their spiritualism but I must experience it first hand to truly understand it. If I wanted to help the tribe be the best tribe they could be I must take what he called a spirit journey. Somehow the Christian in me did not complain. I had to do what was best for the tribe after all, didn’t I?
He made me make a small clearing on a ledge where I could see for miles and the sea in the distance. I was to stay here without water or food until the vision came to me. It did not matter how long it would take. I would have to stay in that one spot sleeping, meditating when I was awake and ignoring the elements. He left me with a smile.
I did not know what to think about what I had gotten myself into but there was no turning back now. I only sat there trying to clear my mind of my worries and concerns. The tribe had existed without me long before I had come here. Was I to be their answer to continued existence after the long feared outside influence came? It did rain from time to time and I only had the cat hide to protect me from the cold and elements. I began to see the cat and its skin differently. I had seen other large foot prints here but never another cat. I had killed the old cat to save the tribes children from its menace. But had I done the cat itself a favor? I began to see the cat as my brother who had given me its life so I could fully join the tribe. It had sacrificed itself for the good of the tribe, indeed the good of the whole island.
I knew I was slipping when I thought this way but I was supposed
to see a vision. I saw nothing so I stayed put. The cat came to me in a dream and talked to me. Now I knew I was in trouble. How many days had it been? I had no idea. The cat told me we both were one. He wanted me to end its suffering because it was old and did not want to kill the child but could not catch anything else any more. It had felt bad for stocking me but knew nothing else. That was its nature. It had to obey its nature.
I understood and told the cat I too was sorry for killing it. I had felt its pain as it died at my feet. I did think to ask the cat why I was here. He told me another was coming and he had to go but not to feel bad about killing it any more. I woke up in a sweat. It was almost dawn. What other could possibly come? I tried not to worry about it but knew I was close to the answer. I had to know how to help the tribe survive.
I drifted as the day wore on. I saw the view before me fade in and out. If I died here on this quest for knowledge I would die content. I had fulfilled my mission to help this tribe. I did fade into a sort of sleep. I don’t know if I was sitting up or lying down. I did see a bright light and knew my eyes were closed or I thought my eyes were closed. Was this why I was here? I saw a large white figure coming towards me but I had no fear of it. I could make out no features but he told me he was the creator. Was this God? I had completely let go. I was only watching as the figure explained the future was inevitable. I would have to teach the tribe to live in the mountains as well as the coastal plain. If outsiders came we were not to interfere with them. We should hide and live in the mountains of the central island until they left. I asked him who he was besides the creator. He told me I knew. He grabbed me by the hand and his touch felt warm. At his touch I
was at complete peace. Yes, this is why I had come. I knew now what to do. He left me with a wave.
I came out of my trance like state with all the excitement of a small child on Christmas morning. I ran to the shaman who was near the shelter building a fire. I tried to slow down and blurted out what I had seen. He was surprised but very pleased.
We started to pack up but I would need to recover before we returned to the village. He cooked for me and told me to sit still. I ate as much as he would give me. He would not tell me how long I had been out on the ledge. After what seemed like a great amount of food I slept dreamlessly in the shelter. It was the next day before I woke up.
The shaman smiled and told me it was time to go. I put on my cat skin proudly and all but marched out of the mountains. I could not wait to tell the old chief what I had seen and been told. We did get back around sunset the old chief said he had seen us coming and was waiting for me. I sat and told him everything. He was most pleased. He himself had thought about a retreat in the mountains but knew it would be harder to live up there so had ignored the idea. Now he did admit the solution told to me was the only real option. When I was ready, fully recovered from by vision journey, we would go up into the mountains and find a reasonable place to go if we had to retreat from the coast.
The old chief’s mother saw me wearing the cat skin and looked away. I don’t know what was bothering her but did not ask this time. My wife was so proud of me she could burst with pride. She had liked the mountains her whole life and would welcome a chance to live up there if we had to move. It was settled. The whole tribe knew the plan. I was seen as some sort of savior and had not done anything really. We only had a plan now that is all.
My plan would not come too soon. We had cleared a place high in the mountains and began to build huts up there. We still lived in the original place when they were spotted out at sea. A large sailing ship with many masts could be seen coming in our general direction. The shaman had seen it first because he was in the mountains at the time. He did give us enough time to make ready to leave. Why I did not leave right away I will never know. I sent about half the tribe up taking all the children with them. They would take the longest time getting there and out of ‘harm’s way’.
Maybe I was curious about the strangers coming to visit the island. Maybe somewhere down in my subconscious I wanted to be „found‟ and taken home, the home I had left. I just did not know. A few of the men stayed with me. I did not ask them to stay. I told the rest of the tribe to leave and most of them did leave. The old chief looked sadly at me and went with the last group. I did not notice at the time but his mother stayed in her hut. She was not leaving.
I was going to make it easy for the strangers to find me. I was going down on the beach to greet them. I told the men who stayed to stay hidden. If they found me it would be ok. If they were spotted they would give away the secret people lived here. They understood. I got comfortable and just sat there on an old palm log waiting for the ship to launch its small boats and for them to come to shore.
They were American. I could make out the flag on the ship as it approached for an anchorage. Two boats were launched. I heard my „guard‟ go further into the woods. They had listened to me. I was content all would be fine. The outsiders would look around; maybe find an old village but nothing else. I could tell them I had found the village empty when I got here. How long had it been? My boys were beginning to roam around in the woods by themselves. Time was not an issue here. I still remembered it had been 1866 when I was shipwrecked here. I had no idea what year it was now.
The boats came ashore and I let them get out of the boats before I tried to go speak to them. I had no weapons. I was not threatening in any manner. When one of the sailors saw me there was a lot of shouting and they pointed some weapons at me. I stopped and held up my hands. I knew the men behind me saw all what was going on. I knew they must not be seen. I did not want to give them any idea I was in need of their help. My whole plan counted on nothing going wrong.
Well, something always goes wrong. One of the young sailors with a weapon slipped and his rifle went off hitting me in the leg. It was a grazing shot, in and out. I did shout in pain and dropped to one knee. That is all it took. My guard came running out of their hiding places. Some were killed instantly. A few did manage to get to the sailors on the beach. One was killed outright with a stone like knife. I had showed these people how to make them. I had meant them for hunting and cooking. The tribe understood what they could be used for immediately. Only two of my guard survived the exchange. The sailors overwhelmed the one still standing and one had been shot but would survive. I would have run to the one shot and bleeding on the ground but my leg would not let me run.
The officer in the bunch had understood I was there to talk but all had happened too fast for him to stop. He came up to me and spoke a greeting in English. I answered in English but it was hard for me. He asked me who I was I and I told him. He knew the list of people who had been on the General Grant and looked quite shocked I was still alive. I asked him what year it was. He told me 1874. I had been on the island for eight years.
The gun fire had been heard by the old chief’s mother. She chose the most inopportune time to come to the beach. Most of the men who had stayed with me were dead. I was bleeding and my wounds were being tended to and the one capable tribe member caught was strongly tied to the side of one of the beached boats. He knew not to complain but his expression was pure anger.
She spoke to the men in English. As she had done me she asked if they were British. The officer said no that they were Americans. She looked sad but asked if they had a minister on board. When the officer told her yes, her expression was pure joy. I later learned her one hope before dying was to be baptized. I never knew. Was I guilty of not spreading the Word of God as had been my mission? I felt sick. I thought I had done my best for the tribe. The tribe would live out of reach as I had planned but the sailors knew where there were some native people there had to be more. Had I failed? I had to believe no.
I had no choice but to be ‘rescued’. My two alive tribal members were treated like prisoners until
I begged for their release. The
old lady was treated like a visiting queen on board. She did not
resist going with the crew. She had no idea where we were going and did not care. I would be questioned at length. I felt like they would blame me for the loss of the General Grant because I had survived. I had gone native to survive but they still watched me as if I was born native. What had I accomplished?
I would see Maryland again and go back to the same church which had sent me on the mission. I only told my whole story in confession. I would always feel the quilt. I would never be able to see my family on the island again. In fact I had lost two families in ten years. I was stronger now and would not try to escape the pain this time.
I did keep the old cat skin and it hangs on my wall today. He was my brother the cat. How would I explain that to anyone here? I will close this story thinking I must find the Native Americans who still lived here on the continent. I had a wonderful story to tell them.