The Coral Island, Robert Michael Ballantyne [inspirational novels .TXT] 📗
- Author: Robert Michael Ballantyne
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broken coral formations, which Jack and I agreed proved either that
this island must have once been under the sea, or that the sea must
once have been above the island. In other words, that as shells
and coral could not possibly climb to the mountain top, they must
have been washed upon it while the mountain top was on a level with
the sea. We pondered this very much; and we put to ourselves the
question, “What raised the island to its present height above the
sea?” But to this we could by no means give to ourselves a
satisfactory reply. Jack thought it might have been blown up by a
volcano; and Peterkin said he thought it must have jumped up of its
own accord! We also noticed, what had escaped us before, that the
solid rocks of which the island was formed were quite different
from the live coral rocks on the shore, where the wonderful little
insects were continually working. They seemed, indeed, to be of
the sauce material, - a substance like limestone; but, while the
coral rocks were quite full of minute cells in which the insects
lived, the other rocks inland were hard and solid, without the
appearance of cells at all. Our thoughts and conversations on this
subject were sometimes so profound that Peterkin said we should
certainly get drowned in them at last, even although we were such
good divers! Nevertheless we did not allow his pleasantry on this
and similar points to deter us from making our notes and
observations as we went along.
We found several more droves of hogs in the woods, but abstained
from killing any of them, having more than sufficient for our
present necessities. We saw also many of their footprints in this
neighbourhood. Among these we also observed the footprints of a
smaller animal, which we examined with much care, but could form no
certain opinion as to them. Peterkin thought they were those of a
little dog, but Jack and I thought differently. We became very
curious on this matter, the more so that we observed these footprints to lie scattered about in one locality, as if the animal
which had made them was wandering round about in a very irregular
manner, and without any object in view. Early in the forenoon of
our third day we observed these footprints to be much more numerous
than ever, and in one particular spot they diverged off into the
woods in a regular beaten track, which was, however, so closely
beset with bushes, that we pushed through it with difficulty. We
had now become so anxious to find out what animal this was, and
where it went to, that we determined to follow the track, and, if
possible, clear up the mystery. Peterkin said, in a bantering
tone, that he was sure it would be cleared up as usual in some
frightfully simple way, and prove to be no mystery at all!
The beaten track seemed much too large to have been formed by the
animal itself, and we concluded that some larger animal had made
it, and that the smaller one made use of it. But everywhere the
creeping plants and tangled bushes crossed our path, so that we
forced our way along with some difficulty. Suddenly, as we came
upon an open space, we heard a faint cry, and observed a black
animal standing in the track before us.
“A wild-cat!” cried Jack, fitting an arrow to his bow, and
discharging it so hastily that he missed the animal, and hit the
earth about half a foot to one side of it. To our surprise the
wild-cat did not fly, but walked slowly towards the arrow, and
snuffed at it.
“That’s the most comical wild-cat I ever saw!” cried Jack.
“It’s a tame wild-cat, I think,” said Peterkin, levelling his spear
to make a charge.
“Stop!” cried I, laying my hand on his shoulder; “I do believe the
poor beast is blind. See, it strikes against the branches as it
walks along. It must be a very old one;” and I hastened towards
it.
“Only think,” said Peterkin, with a suppressed laugh, “of a
superannuated wild-cat!”
We now found that the poor cat was not only blind, or nearly so,
but extremely deaf, as it did not hear our footsteps until we were
quite close behind it. Then it sprang round, and, putting up its
back and tail, while the black hair stood all on end, uttered a
hoarse mew and a fuff.
“Poor thing,” said Peterkin, gently extending his hand, and
endeavouring to pat the cat’s head. “Poor pussy; chee, chee, chee;
puss, puss, puss; cheetie pussy!”
No sooner did the cat hear these sounds than all signs of anger
fled, and, advancing eagerly to Peterkin, it allowed itself to be
stroked, and rubbed itself against his legs, purring loudly all the
time, and showing every symptom of the most extreme delight.
“It’s no more a wild cat than I am!” cried Peterkin, taking it in
his arms. “It’s quite tame. Poor pussy, cheetie pussy!”
We now crowded around Peterkin, and were not a little surprised,
and, to say truth, a good deal affected, by the sight of the poor
animal’s excessive joy. It rubbed its head against Peterkin’s
cheek, licked his chin, and thrust its head almost violently into
his neck, while it purred more loudly than I ever heard a cat purr
before, and appeared to be so much overpowered by its feelings,
that it occasionally mewed and purred almost in the same breath.
Such demonstrations of joy and affection led us at once to conclude
that this poor cat must have known man before, and we conjectured
that it had been left either accidentally or by design on the
island many years ago, and was now evincing its extreme joy at
meeting once more with human beings. While we were fondling the
cat and talking about it, Jack glanced round the open space in the
midst of which we stood.
“Hallo!” exclaimed he; “this looks something like a clearing. The
axe has been at work here. Just look at these tree-stumps.”
We now turned to examine these, and, without doubt, we found trees
that had been cut down here and there, also stumps and broken
branches; all of which, however, were completely covered over with
moss, and bore evidence of having been in this condition for some
years. No human footprints were to be seen, either on the track
or among the bushes; but those of the cat were found everywhere.
We now determined to follow up the track as far as it went, and
Peterkin put the cat down; but it seemed to be so weak, and mewed
so very pitifully, that he took it up again and carried it in his
arms, where, in a few minutes, it fell sound asleep.
About ten yards farther on, the felled trees became more numerous,
and the track, diverging to the right, followed for a short space
the banks of a stream. Suddenly we came to a spot where once must
have been a rude bridge, the stones of which were scattered in the
stream, and those on each bank entirely covered over with moss. In
silent surprise and expectancy we continued to advance, and, a few
yards farther on, beheld, under the shelter of some bread-fruit
trees, a small hut or cottage. I cannot hope to convey to my
readers a very correct idea of the feelings that affected us on
witnessing this unexpected sight. We stood for a long time in
silent wonder, for there was a deep and most melancholy stillness
about the place that quite overpowered us; and when we did at
length speak, it was in subdued whispers, as if we were surrounded
by some awful or supernatural influence. Even Peterkin’s voice,
usually so quick and lively on all occasions, was hushed now; for
there was a dreariness about this silent, lonely, uninhabited
cottage, - so strange in its appearance, so far away from the usual
dwellings of man, so old, decayed, and deserted in its aspect, -
that fell upon our spirits like a thick cloud, and blotted out as
with a pall the cheerful sunshine that had filled us since the
commencement of our tour round the island.
The hut or cottage was rude and simple in its construction. It was
not more than twelve feet long by ten feet broad, and about seven
or eight feet high. It had one window, or rather a small frame in
which a window might, perhaps, once have been, but which was now
empty. The door was exceedingly low, and formed of rough boards,
and the roof was covered with broad cocoa-nut and plantain leaves.
But every part of it was in a state of the utmost decay. Moss and
green matter grew in spots all over it. The woodwork was quite
perforated with holes; the roof had nearly fallen in, and appeared
to be prevented from doing so altogether by the thick matting of
creeping-plants and the interlaced branches which years of neglect
had allowed to cover it almost entirely; while the thick, luxuriant
branches of the bread-fruit and other trees spread above it, and
flung a deep, sombre shadow over the spot, as if to guard it from
the heat and the light of day. We conversed long and in whispers
about this strange habitation ere we ventured to approach it; and
when at length we did so it was, at least on my part, with feelings
of awe.
At first Jack endeavoured to peep in at the window, but from the
deep shadow of the trees already mentioned, and the gloom within,
he could not clearly discern objects; so we lifted the latch and
pushed open the door. We observed that the latch was made of iron,
and almost eaten away with rust. In the like condition were also
the hinges, which creaked as the door swung back. On entering, we
stood still and gazed around us, while we were much impressed with
the dreary stillness of the room. But what we saw there surprised
and shocked us not a little. There was no furniture in the
apartment save a little wooden stool and an iron pot, the latter
almost eaten through with rust. In the corner farthest from the
door was a low bedstead, on which lay two skeletons, imbedded in a
little heap of dry dust. With beating hearts we went forward to
examine them. One was the skeleton of a man, the other that of a
dog, which was extended close beside that of the man, with its head
resting on his bosom
Now we were very much concerned about this discovery, and could
scarce refrain from tears on beholding these sad remains. After
some time, we began to talk about what we had seen, and to examine
in and around the hut, in order to discover some clue to the name
or history of this poor man, who had thus died in solitude, with
none to mourn his loss save his cat and his faithful dog. But we
found nothing, - neither a book nor a scrap of paper. We found,
however, the decayed remnants of what appeared to have been
clothing, and an old axe. But none of these things bore marks of
any kind; and, indeed, they were so much decayed as to convince us
that they had lain in the condition in which we found them for many
years.
This discovery now accounted to us for the tree stump at the top of
the mountain with the initials cut on it; also for the patch of
sugar-cane and other traces of man which we had met with in the
course of our rambles over the
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