CHAPTER THREE.
THE CORAL ISLAND--OUR FIRST COGITATIONS AFTER LANDING AND THE RESULT OFTHEM--WE CONCLUDE THAT THE ISLAND IS UNINHABITED.
There is a strange and peculiar sensation experienced in recovering froma state of insensibility which is almost indescribable: a sort ofdreamy, confused consciousness; a half-waking, half-sleeping condition,accompanied with a feeling of weariness, which, however, is by no meansdisagreeable. As I slowly recovered, and heard the voice of Peterkininquiring whether I felt better, I thought that I must have oversleptmyself, and should be sent to the masthead for being lazy; but before Icould leap up in haste, the thought seemed to vanish suddenly away, andI fancied that I must have been ill. Then a balmy breeze fanned mycheek; and I thought of home, and the garden at the back of my father'scottage with its luxuriant flowers, and the sweet-scented honeysucklethat my dear mother trained so carefully upon the trellised porch. Butthe roaring of the surf put these delightful thoughts to flight, and Iwas back again at sea, watching the dolphins and the flying-fish, andreefing topsails off the wild and stormy Cape Horn. Gradually the roarof the surf became louder and more distinct. I thought of being wreckedfar, far away from my native land, and slowly opened my eyes to meetthose of my companion Jack, who, with a look of intense anxiety, wasgazing into my face.
"Speak to us, my dear Ralph!" whispered Jack tenderly. "Are you betternow?"
I smiled and looked up, saying, "Better! Why, what do you mean, Jack?I'm quite well."
"Then what are you shamming for, and frightening us in this way?" saidPeterkin, smiling through his tears; for the poor boy had been reallyunder the impression that I was dying.
I now raised myself on my elbow, and putting my hand to my forehead,found that it had been cut pretty severely, and that I had lost a gooddeal of blood.
"Come, come, Ralph," said Jack, pressing me gently backward, "lie down,my boy; you're not right yet. Wet your lips with this water; it's cooland clear as crystal. I got it from a spring close at hand. There,now, don't say a word--hold your tongue," he said, seeing me about tospeak. "I'll tell you all about it, but you must not utter a syllabletill you have rested well."
"Oh, don't stop him from speaking, Jack!" said Peterkin, who, now thathis fears for my safety were removed, busied himself in erecting ashelter of broken branches in order to protect me from the wind--which,however, was almost unnecessary, for the rock beside which I had beenlaid completely broke the force of the gale. "Let him speak, Jack; it'sa comfort to hear that he's alive after lying there stiff and white andsulky for a whole hour, just like an Egyptian mummy.--Never saw such afellow as you are, Ralph--always up to mischief. You've almost knockedout all my teeth and more than half-choked me, and now you go shammingdead! It's very wicked of you, indeed it is."
While Peterkin ran on in this style my faculties became quite clearagain, and I began to understand my position. "What do you mean bysaying I half-choked you, Peterkin?" said I.
"What do I mean? Is English not your mother-tongue? or do you want meto repeat it in French by way of making it clearer? Don't youremember?"
"I remember nothing," said I, interrupting him, "after we were throwninto the sea."
"Hush, Peterkin!" said Jack; "you're exciting Ralph with yournonsense.--I'll explain it to you. You recollect that, after the shipstruck, we three sprang over the bow into the sea? Well, I noticed thatthe oar struck your head and gave you that cut on the brow which nearlystunned you, so that you grasped Peterkin round the neck without knowingapparently what you were about. In doing so, you pushed the telescope--which you clung to as if it had been your life--against Peterkin'smouth--"
"Pushed it against his mouth!" interrupted Peterkin; "say crammed itdown his throat! Why, there's a distinct mark of the brass rim on theback of my gullet at this moment!"
"Well, well, be that as it may," continued Jack, "you clung to him,Ralph, till I feared you really would choke him. But I saw that he hada good hold of the oar; so I exerted myself to the utmost to push youtowards the shore, which we luckily reached without much trouble, forthe water inside the reef is quite calm."
"But the captain and crew, what of them?" I inquired anxiously.
Jack shook his head.
"Are they lost?"
"No, they are not lost, I hope; but, I fear, there is not much chance oftheir being saved. The ship struck at the very tail of the island onwhich we are cast. When the boat was tossed into the sea it fortunatelydid not upset, although it shipped a good deal of water, and all the menmanaged to scramble into it; but before they could get the oars out, thegale carried them past the point and away to leeward of the island.After we landed I saw them endeavouring to pull towards us; but as theyhad only one pair of oars out of the eight that belonged to the boat,and as the wind was blowing right in their teeth, they gradually lostground. Then I saw them put about and hoist some sort of sail--ablanket, I fancy, for it was too small for the boat--and in half-an-hourthey were out of sight."
"Poor fellows!" I murmured sorrowfully.
"But the more I think about it I've better hope of them," continued Jackin a more cheerful tone. "You see, Ralph, I've read a great deal aboutthese South Sea Islands, and I know that in many places they arescattered about in thousands over the sea, so they're almost sure tofall in with one of them before long."
"I'm sure I hope so," said Peterkin earnestly. "But what has become ofthe wreck, Jack? I saw you clambering up the rocks there while I waswatching Ralph. Did you say she had gone to pieces?"
"No, she has not gone to pieces; but she has gone to the bottom,"replied Jack. "As I said before, she struck on the tail of the islandand stove in her bow; but the next breaker swung her clear, and shefloated away to leeward. The poor fellows in the boat made a hardstruggle to reach her, but long before they came near her she filled andwent down. It was after she had foundered that I saw them trying topull to the island."
There was a long silence after Jack had ceased speaking, and I have nodoubt that each was revolving in his mind our extraordinary position.For my part, I cannot say that my reflections were very agreeable. Iknew that we were on an island, for Jack had said so; but whether it wasinhabited or not, I did not know. If it should be inhabited, I feltcertain, from all I had heard of South Sea Islanders, that we should beroasted alive and eaten. If it should turn out to be uninhabited, Ifancied that we should be starved to death. "Oh," thought I, "if theship had only struck on the rocks we might have done pretty well, for wecould have obtained provisions from her, and tools to enable us to builda shelter; but now--alas! alas! we are lost!" These last words Iuttered aloud in my distress.
"Lost, Ralph!" exclaimed Jack, while a smile overspread his heartycountenance. "Saved, you should have said. Your cogitations seem tohave taken a wrong road, and led you to a wrong conclusion."
"Do you know what conclusion I have come to?" said Peterkin. "I havemade up my mind that it's capital--first-rate--the best thing that everhappened to us, and the most splendid prospect that ever lay beforethree jolly young tars. We've got an island all to ourselves. We'lltake possession in the name of the king. We'll go and enter the serviceof its black inhabitants. Of course we'll rise, naturally, to the topof affairs: white men always do in savage countries. You shall be king,Jack; Ralph, prime minister; and I shall be--"
"The court-jester," interrupted Jack.
"No," retorted Peterkin; "I'll have no title at all. I shall merelyaccept a highly responsible situation under government; for you see,Jack, I'm fond of having an enormous salary and nothing to do."
"But suppose there are no natives?"
"Then we'll build a charming villa, and plant a lovely garden round it,stuck all full of the most splendiferous tropical flowers; and we'llfarm the land, plant, sow, reap, eat, sleep, and be merry."
"But to be serious," said Jack, assuming a grave expression ofcountenance--which, I observed, always had the effect of checkingPeterkin's disposition to make fun of everything--"we a
re really inrather an uncomfortable position. If this is a desert island, we shallhave to live very much like the wild beasts; for we have not a tool ofany kind--not even a knife."
"Yes, we have _that_," said Peterkin, fumbling in his trousers pocket,from which he drew forth a small penknife with only one blade, and thatwas broken.
"Well, that's better than nothing.--But come," said Jack, rising; "weare wasting our time in _talking_ instead of _doing_.--You seem wellenough to walk now, Ralph.--Let us see what we have got in our pockets;and then let us climb some hill and ascertain what sort of island wehave been cast upon, for, whether good or bad, it seems likely to be ourhome for some time to come."