LOST IN THE SOUTH SEA.
Captain William Gooding was commander of the _Tewksbury Sweet_, ofPortland, Maine, and was lost in the South Pacific in the spring of1889. This fine American bark sailed from New Castle, New South Wales,on the 17th of March, bound for Hong Kong. Everything went well untilthe 9th of the following month, when she encountered a severe gale.Despite all that skillful seamanship could do, and in the face of themost strenuous exertions, she struck the dangerous Susanne Reef, nearPoseat Island, one of the Caroline group of the South Sea.
The wreck was a total one. The vessel broke up rapidly, and seeingthat nothing could be done, the captain and crew, numbering ten men inall, took to one of the boats, carrying with them only a singlechronometer belonging to the ship. Even after entering the small boatthey were still in great danger, and only succeeded after the utmostdifficulty in reaching a small islet some miles to the southward. Thestorm was still raging so violently that the shelter was a most welcomeone, though as there were no animals or vegetation, or even water uponthe island, their stay of necessity could be only temporary. They hadsaved nothing to eat or drink, and to remain where they were meant alingering death.
After several hours waiting, the tempest abated somewhat, and launchingtheir boat once more, they rowed toward the main island.
"The end is likely to be the same in either case," remarked the captainto the second mate, George W. Harrison, as they approached the land.
"And why?" inquired the latter: "we shall find food and water there."
"True enough; but there are no fiercer savages on the South Sea thanthose of this island, and I have never heard that they wereparticularly friendly toward the crews of shipwrecked vessels."
"They may not discover us until we can signal some passing ship."
"There is no possibility of any such good fortune as that."
"Stranger things have happened, and--"
"Does that look like it?" interrupted the captain in some excitement,pointing toward the island.
The sight that met the gaze of every one was startling. Fully thirtycanoes, each filled with eight or ten natives, were putting off fromshore and heading toward them. Several of the crew favored turningabout, and putting to sea; but that would have been not only hopeless,but would have invited attack. Nothing is so encouraging to an enemyas flight on the part of his opponent. It impels him to greaterexertions and gives him a bravery which otherwise he may not feel.
The savages, in their light, graceful craft, and with their great skillin manipulating them, would have overhauled the white men "hand overhand." There was a faint hope that by presenting a bold front, andacting as though they believed in the friendship of the savages thatthey might spare the unfortunates. At any rate, it was clear there wasno choice but to go ahead, and the white men did so, rowing leisurelyand calmly, though the chances in doing so were hastening their owndoom.
There could be no mistaking the ardor of the ferocious natives. Theypaddled with might and main, and fully a dozen, in their eagerness,leaped into the sea and swam ahead of their canoes. They weremagnificent swimmers, speeding through the water like so many dolphins.The Americans, even in their frightful peril, could not repress theiradmiration.
"Did you ever see anything like it?" asked first mate Watchman; "theyare like so many sharks."
"They are indeed," was the significant response of Captain Gooding,"and I would like it better if they were real sharks."
"Here they are!"
Sure enough; they surrounded the boat in a twinkling, and shouting andscreeching like so many demons, clambered over the gunwales until therewas danger of swamping the craft.
Had our friends possessed firearms, they would have made a desperateresistance, and possibly might have beaten off their assailants; but,as it was, they acted the part of wisdom in offering no opposition tothe presence or actions of their unwelcome visitors.
The latter proved that they meant business from the first, for hardlywere they in the boat when they began stripping the officers andsailors of their property. When they ceased the men had nothing leftbut their undershirts, their despoilers flinging the garments into thecanoes that now crowded around.
No more plunder being obtainable, the fleet headed for land, with theircaptives in anything but a cheerful frame of mind. The shore was linedwith women and children, who answered the shouts of their friends inthe boats by running back and forth, screeching and yelling anddancing, as if unable to restrain themselves until the arrival of theirvictims.
The sailors believed they would be speedily killed and eaten, thelatter horror might have been escaped had they known, what theyafterward learned, that the savages of those islands are not cannibals.
The poor fellows stepped from their boat upon the shore, where theywere immediately environed by the fierce men, women and children, halfnaked, wild, boisterous, and seemingly impatient to rend them topieces. The prisoners could do nothing but meekly await the next stepin the tragedy.
It was during these trying moments that the sailors were astounded tohear, amid the babel of voices, several words spoken in English.Staring about them to learn the meaning of such a strange thing, theysaw a man attired as were the others, that is with only a piece ofcloth about his hips, whose complexion and features showed that hebelonged to the same race with themselves.
He advanced in a cheery, hearty way, and shaking hands with the newarrivals, said:
"I think you did not expect to find me here."
"Indeed we did not," was the reply; "you appear to be an Englishman."
"So I am, and I am anxious to give you all the help I can, for yoursituation is anything but a desirable one."
"There can be no doubt of that. But how is it that you are here? Wereyou shipwrecked like ourselves?"
"No; I may say I was deserted. My name is Charles Irons, and I wasleft at Poseat by a trading vessel four years ago."
"How came that?"
"I was to act as the agent of a company of traders on the CocoanutIslands. Well, the vessel left me, as I first told you, and that wasthe last of it. They forgot all about me, or more likely, did not careto keep their promise, for I have never seen anything of the vesselsince."
"What an outrage!"
"It was, and there couldn't have been a more wretched person than I wasfor several months. I looked longingly out to sea for the ship thatnever came, and chafed like a man who is bound hand and foot. But,"added the Englishman with a smile, "there is nothing like making thebest of things. You can accustom yourself almost to anything if youwill only make up your mind to do so. I was among these people andthere was no help for it, so I decided to adopt their ways and becomeone of them."
"You decided when in Rome to do as the Romans do," suggested thecaptain, who, like his companions, was greatly cheered, not only by thepresence and friendship of the Englishman, but by the fact that thesavages, who watched the interview with interest, showed no dispositionto interfere.
"That's it. There are a great many worse people in this world thanthese. They are not cannibals, as are many of their neighbors, andthey have never harmed me."
"But what about us?" was the anxious inquiry.
The Englishman looked grave.
"I cannot say what their intentions are, but I am afraid they are bad.They have been used ill by some of the vessels that have stopped here,and are naturally suspicious of all white people. Then, too, they arerevengeful, and like all barbarians are satisfied, if aggrieved againstour race, to get their satisfaction out of any member of it, whether heis the one who injured them, or is entirely innocent."
"You seem to be regarded with high favor here."
"I am. I stand next to the chief in authority, so you see I havereason to believe I may be of some service to you. You may be surethat I shall leave no stone unturned to help you."
The captain and his companions gave expression to their deep gratitude,and Irons continued in his bluff, pleasant manner:
"I guess I am about as much a savage as any of them. If I hadn't beenI never would have obtained any control over them. I have seven nativewives, and find I am forgetting a great many details of civilization,while my desire to return home is growing less every day. After all,what difference does it make where you are? A man has only a few yearsto live, and as long as he is contented, he is a fool to rebel."
There may have been good philosophy in all this, and the captain didnot attempt to gainsay it, but, all the same, it was hard for him tounderstand how any one could be so placed as to lose his yearning forhis home and his native land.
It was several days afterward, when the captives had become somewhataccustomed to their surroundings, that Captain Gooding found he and hismen were mixed in their reckoning.
"It is a question among us whether this is Thursday or Friday," saidhe, addressing Irons; "can you settle it for us?"
The Englishman looked at the captain in an odd way and replied:
"I haven't the remotest idea of what day in the week it is, nor what isthe month. It seems four years ago that I was left here, but I am notsure of it. Will you please give me the year and month?"
"This is April, 1889."
The Englishman bent his head for a few minutes in deep thought. He wasrecalling the past, with its singular incidents of his career. When helooked up he said:
"Yes; it is four years and more since I was abandoned, and if you staythat long you will be content to remain all your lives."
The captain shook his head, and his eyes were dimmed as he replied:
"I never could forget the loved ones at home, Irons; I would preferdeath at once to a lingering imprisonment here."
"Well, I am going to help you all to leave just as soon as it can bedone. I understand how you feel, and sympathize with you."
The Englishman proved himself the most valuable kind of a friend. Theauthority which he possessed over these savage South Sea Islanders wasstretched to the utmost, but he never hesitated to employ it. But forhis presence the Americans would have been put to death within a fewhours at most of their arrival on the mainland, and without his aid itwould have been impossible for them ever to have gotten away.
When everything was in shape, Irons hired a canoe of the natives forthe use of his friends. The craft was not large enough to contain allthe party, and since all real peril had passed, there was no fear infollowing the course that had been agreed upon.
Captain Gooding, second mate Harrison; and one of the sailors leftPoseat in the canoe, first mate Watchman and his six companionsremaining on the island. This was ten days after the loss of the_Tewksbury Sweet_.
Captain Gooding and all the sailors were in the best of spirits, forthey were confident that their wearisome captivity was substantiallyover. The three made their way from island to island, stopping ateight different points, sometimes for days, and even weeks. Finallythey arrived at Ruk, where they found a missionary station, andreceived the most hospitable treatment.
The good men owned a boat abundantly large enough to carry twentypersons, and the captain asked its use with which to bring the rest ofhis crew from Poseat. This was asking more than would be supposed, forthe missionaries told them that they were surrounded by hostilenatives, who were liable to an outbreak at any hour, in which event theonly means of escape the white men possessed was the boat.
The missionaries, however, gave their consent, and Captain Gooding,hoisting sail in the staunch centre-boarder, set sail for Poseat, wherehe safely arrived, without unnecessary delay. He found the first mateand his sailors well and in high spirits, though they were beginning towonder whether their captain, like the friends of Irons, had notforgotten, and concluded to leave them to themselves.
No objection was offered to their departure, and bidding anaffectionate good-by to the Englishman, who had proven the best kind ofa friend, they returned to the missionary island. Two months later themissionary vessel, the _Morning Star_, arrived, and carried them all toHonolulu, which was reached in November. Thence Captain Gooding and apart of the crew were brought by the steamer _Australia_ to SanFrancisco, from which point the captain made his way to his home inYarmouth, where his family and friends welcomed him back as one risenfrom the dead, for they had long given up hope of ever seeing him again.