CHAPTER III.
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 mast-head for being lazy; but before Icould leap up in haste, the thought seemed to vanish suddenly away, and Ifancied that I must have been ill. Then a balmy breeze fanned my cheek,and I thought of home, and the garden at the back of my father's cottage,with its luxuriant flowers, and the sweet-scented honey-suckle that mydear mother trained so carefully upon the trellised porch. But theroaring of the surf put these delightful thoughts to flight, and I wasback again at sea, watching the dolphins and the flying-fish, and reefingtopsails off the wild and stormy Cape Horn. Gradually the roar of thesurf became louder and more distinct. I thought of being wrecked far faraway from my native land, and slowly opened my eyes to meet those of mycompanion Jack, who, with a look of intense anxiety, was gazing into myface.
"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'mquite 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," said he, seeing me about to speak."I'll tell you all about it, but you must not utter a syllable till youhave 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 me torepeat it in French, by way of making it clearer? Don't you remember--"
"I remember nothing," said I, interrupting him, "after we were throwninto the sea."
{Slowly recovering: p24.jpg}
"Hush, Peterkin," said Jack, "you're exciting Ralph with your nonsense.I'll explain it to you. You recollect that after the ship struck, wethree sprang over the bow into the sea; well, I noticed that the oarstruck your head and gave you that cut on the brow, which nearly stunnedyou, so that you grasped Peterkin round the neck without knowingapparently what you were about. In doing so you pushed thetelescope,--which you clung to as if it had been your life,--againstPeterkin's mouth--"
"Pushed it against his mouth!" interrupted Peterkin, "say crammed it downhis throat. Why, there's a distinct mark of the brass rim on the back ofmy 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 had agood hold of the oar, so I exerted myself to the utmost to push youtowards the shore, which we luckily reached without much trouble, for thewater 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. Afterwe landed I saw them endeavouring to pull towards us, but as they hadonly one pair of oars out of the eight that belong to the boat, and asthe wind was blowing right in their teeth, they gradually lost ground.Then I saw them put about and hoist some sort of sail,--a blanket, Ifancy, for it was too small for the boat,--and in half an hour they wereout of sight."
"Poor fellows," I murmured sorrowfully.
"But the more I think about it, I've better hope of them," continuedJack, in a more cheerful tone. "You see, Ralph, I've read a great dealabout these South Sea Islands, and I know that in many places they arescattered about in thousands over the sea, so they're almost sure to fallin 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," repliedJack. "As I said before, she struck on the tail of the island and stovein her bow, but the next breaker swung her clear, and she floated away toleeward. The poor fellows in the boat made a hard struggle to reach her,but long before they came near her she filled and went down. It wasafter she foundered that I saw them trying to pull to the island."
There wan a long silence after Jack ceased speaking, and I have no doubtthat each was revolving in his mind our extraordinary position. For mypart I cannot say that my reflections were very agreeable. I knew thatwe were on an island, for Jack had said so, but whether it was inhabitedor not I did not know. If it should be inhabited, I felt certain, fromall I had heard of South Sea Islanders, that we should be roasted aliveand eaten. If it should turn out to be uninhabited, I fancied that weshould be starved to death. "Oh!" thought I, "if the ship had only stuckon the rocks we might have done pretty well, for we could have obtainedprovisions from her, and tools to enable us to build a shelter, butnow--alas! alas! we are lost!" These last words I uttered aloud in mydistress.
"Lost! Ralph?" exclaimed Jack, while a smile overspread his heartycountenance. "Saved, you should have said. Your cogitations seem to havetaken 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 before threejolly young tars. We've got an island all to ourselves. We'll takepossession in the name of the king; we'll go and enter the service of itsblack inhabitants. Of course we'll rise, naturally, to the top ofaffairs. 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'll farmthe 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 dispo
sition to make fun of everything, "we are 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, "we arewasting our time in _talking_ instead of _doing_. You seem well enoughto walk now, Ralph, let us see what we have got in our pockets, and thenlet us climb some hill and ascertain what sort of island we have beencast upon, for, whether good or bad, it seems likely to be our home forsome time to come."