The Coral Island, Robert Michael Ballantyne [inspirational novels .TXT] 📗
- Author: Robert Michael Ballantyne
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by the reflection that the lot of this poor wanderer might possibly
be our own, after many years’ residence on the island, unless we
should be rescued by the visit of some vessel or the arrival of
natives. Having no clue whatever to account for the presence of
this poor human being in such a lonely spot, we fell to
conjecturing what could have brought him there. I was inclined to
think that he must have been a shipwrecked sailor, whose vessel had
been lost here, and all the crew been drowned except himself and
his dog and cat. But Jack thought it more likely that he had run
away from his vessel, and had taken the dog and cat to keep him
company. We were also much occupied in our minds with the
wonderful difference between the cat and the dog. For here we saw
that while the one perished, like a loving friend, by its master’s
side, with its head resting on his bosom, the other had sought to
sustain itself by prowling abroad in the forest, and had lived in
solitude to a good old age. However, we did not conclude from this
that the cat was destitute of affection, for we could not forget
its emotions on first meeting with us; but we saw from this, that
the dog had a great deal more of generous love in its nature than
the cat, because it not only found it impossible to live after the
death of its master, but it must needs, when it came to die, crawl
to his side and rest its head upon his lifeless breast.
While we were thinking on these things, and examining into
everything about the room, we were attracted by an exclamation from
Peterkin.
“I say, Jack,” said he, “here is something that will be of use to
us.”
“What is it?” said Jack, hastening across the room.
“An old pistol,” replied Peterkin, holding up the weapon, which he
had just pulled from under a heap of broken wood and rubbish that
lay in a corner.
“That, indeed, might have been useful,” said Jack, examining it,
“if we had any powder; but I suspect the bow and the sling will
prove more serviceable.”
“True, I forgot that,” said Peterkin; “but we may as well take it
with us, for the flint will serve to strike fire with when the sun
does not shine.”
After having spent more than an hour at this place without
discovering anything of further interest, Peterkin took up the old
cat, which had lain very contentedly asleep on the stool whereon he
had placed it, and we prepared to take our departure. In leaving
the hut, Jack stumbled heavily against the door-post, which was so
much decayed as to break across, and the whole fabric of the hut
seemed ready to tumble about our ears. This put into our heads
that we might as well pull it down, and so form a mound over the
skeleton. Jack, therefore, with his axe, cut down the other door-post, which, when it was done, brought the whole hut in ruins to
the ground, and thus formed a grave to the bones of the poor
recluse and his dog. Then we left the spot, having brought away
the iron pot, the pistol, and the old axe, as they might be of much
use to us hereafter.
During the rest of this day we pursued our journey, and examined
the other end of the large valley, which we found to be so much
alike to the parts already described, that I shall not recount the
particulars of what we saw in this place. I may, however, remark,
that we did not quite recover our former cheerful spirits until we
arrived at our bower, which we did late in the evening, and found
everything just in the same condition as we had left it three days
before.
CHAPTER XII.
Something wrong with the tank - Jack’s wisdom and Peterkin’s
impertinence - Wonderful behaviour of a crab - Good wishes for
those who dwell far from the sea - Jack commences to build a little
boat.
REST is sweet as well for the body as for the mind. During my long
experience, amid the vicissitudes of a chequered life, I have found
that periods of profound rest at certain intervals, in addition to
the ordinary hours of repose, are necessary to the wellbeing of
man. And the nature as well as the period of this rest varies,
according to the different temperaments of individuals, and the
peculiar circumstances in which they may chance to be placed. To
those who work with their minds, bodily labour is rest. To those
who labour with the body, deep sleep is rest. To the downcast, the
weary, and the sorrowful, joy and peace are rest. Nay, further, I
think that to the gay, the frivolous, the reckless, when sated with
pleasures that cannot last, even sorrow proves to be rest of a
kind, although, perchance, it were better that I should call it
relief than rest. There is, indeed, but one class of men to whom
rest is denied. There is no rest to the wicked. At this I do but
hint, however, as I treat not of that rest which is spiritual, but,
more particularly, of that which applies to the mind and to the
body.
Of this rest we stood much in need on our return home, and we found
it exceedingly sweet, when we indulged in it, after completing the
journey just related. It had not, indeed, been a very long
journey, nevertheless we had pursued it so diligently that our
frames were not a little prostrated. Our minds were also very much
exhausted in consequence of the many surprises, frequent alarms,
and much profound thought, to which they had been subjected; so
that when we lay down on the night of our return under the shelter
of the bower, we fell immediately into very deep repose. I can
state this with much certainty, for Jack afterwards admitted the
fact, and Peterkin, although he stoutly denied it, I heard snoring
loudly at least two minutes after lying down. In this condition we
remained all night and the whole of the following day without
awaking once, or so much as moving our positions. When we did
awake it was near sunset, and we were all in such a state of
lassitude that we merely rose to swallow a mouthful of food. As
Peterkin remarked, in the midst of a yawn, we took breakfast at
tea-time, and then went to bed again, where we lay till the
following forenoon.
After this we arose very greatly refreshed, but much alarmed lest
we had lost count of a day. I say we were much alarmed on this
head, for we had carefully kept count of the days since we were
cast upon our island, in order that we might remember the Sabbath-day, which day we had hitherto with one accord kept as a day of
rest, and refrained from all work whatsoever. However, on
considering the subject, we all three entertained the same opinion
as to how long we had slept, and so our minds were put at ease.
We now hastened to our Water Garden to enjoy a bathe, and to see
how did the animals which I had placed in the tank. We found the
garden more charming, pelucid, and inviting than ever, and Jack and
I plunged into its depth, and gambolled among its radiant coral
groves; while Peterkin wallowed at the surface, and tried
occasionally to kick us as we passed below. Having dressed, I then
hastened to the tank; but what was my surprise and grief to find
nearly all the animals dead, and the water in a putrid condition!
I was greatly distressed at this, and wondered what could be the
cause of it.
“Why, you precious humbug,” said Peterkin, coming up to me, “how
could you expect it to be otherwise? When fishes are accustomed to
live in the Pacific Ocean, how can you expect them to exist in a
hole like that?”
“Indeed, Peterkin,” I replied, “there seems to be truth in what you
say. Nevertheless, now I think of it, there must be some error in
your reasoning; for, if I put in but a few very small animals, they
will bear the same proportion to this pond that the millions of
fish bear to the ocean.”
“I say, Jack,” cried Peterkin, waving his hand, “come here, like a
good fellow. Ralph is actually talking philosophy. Do come to our
assistance, for he’s out o’ sight beyond me already!”
“What’s the matter?” inquired Jack, coming up, while he endeavoured
to scrub his long hair dry with a towel of cocoa-nut cloth.
I repeated my thoughts to Jack, who, I was happy to find, quite
agreed with me. “Your best plan,” he said, “will be to put very
few animals at first into your tank, and add more as you find it
will bear them. And look here,” he added, pointing to the sides of
the tank, which, for the space of two inches above the water-level,
were incrusted with salt, “you must carry your philosophy a little
farther, Ralph. That water has evaporated so much that it is too
salt for anything to live in. You will require to add FRESH water
now and then, in order to keep it at the same degree of saltness as
the sea.”
“Very true, Jack, that never struck me before,” said I.
“And, now I think of it,” continued Jack, “it seems to me that the
surest way of arranging your tank so as to get it to keep pure and
in good condition, will be to imitate the ocean in it. In fact
make it a miniature Pacific. I don’t see how you can hope to
succeed unless you do that.”
“Most true,” said I, pondering what my companion said. “But I fear
that that will be very difficult.”
“Not at all,” cried Jack, rolling his towel up into a ball, and
throwing it into the face of Peterkin, who had been grinning and
winking at him during the last five minutes. “Not at all. Look
here. There is water of a certain saltness in the sea; well, fill
your tank with sea water, and keep it at that saltness by marking
the height at which the water stands on the sides. When it
evaporates a little, pour in FRESH water from the brook till it
comes up to the mark, and then it will be right, for the salt does
not evaporate with the water. Then, there’s lots of sea-weed in
the sea; - well, go and get one or two bits of sea-weed, and put
them into your tank. Of course the weed must be alive, and growing
to little stones; or you can chip a bit off the rocks with the weed
sticking to it. Then, if you like, you can throw a little sand and
gravel into your tank, and the thing’s complete.”
“Nay, not quite,” said Peterkin, who had been gravely attentive to
this off-hand advice, “not quite; you must first make three little
men to dive in it before it can be said to be perfect, and that
would be rather difficult, I fear, for two of them would require to
be philosophers. But hallo! what’s this? I say, Ralph, look here.
There’s one o’ your crabs up to something uncommon. It’s
performing the most remarkable operation for a crab I ever saw, -
taking off its coat, I do believe, before going to bed!”
We hastily stooped over the tank, and certainly were not a little
amused at the conduct of one
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