The Coral Island, Robert Michael Ballantyne [inspirational novels .TXT] 📗

sort of fear lest our home had been

visited and destroyed during our absence; but on reaching it we

found everything just as it had been left, and the poor black cat

curled up, sound asleep, on the coral table in front of our humble

dwelling.

 

CHAPTER XIX.

 

Shoemaking - The even tenor of our way suddenly interrupted - An

unexpected visit and an appalling battle - We all become warriors,

and Jack proves himself be a hero.

 

FOR many months after this we continued to live on our island in

uninterrupted harmony and happiness. Sometimes we went out a-fishing in the lagoon, and sometimes went a-hunting in the woods,

or ascended to the mountain top, by way of variety, although

Peterkin always asserted that we went for the purpose of hailing

any ship that might chance to heave in sight. But I am certain

that none of us wished to be delivered from our captivity, for we

were extremely happy, and Peterkin used to say that as we were very

young we should not feel the loss of a year or two. Peterkin, as I

have said before, was thirteen years of age, Jack eighteen, and I

fifteen. But Jack was very tall, strong, and manly for his age,

and might easily have been mistaken for twenty.

 

The climate was so beautiful that it seemed to be a perpetual

summer, and as many of the fruit-trees continued to bear fruit and

blossom all the year round, we never wanted for a plentiful supply

of food. The hogs, too, seemed rather to increase than diminish,

although Peterkin was very frequent in his attacks on them with his

spear. If at any time we failed in finding a drove, we had only to

pay a visit to the plum-tree before mentioned, where we always

found a large family of them asleep under its branches.

 

We employed ourselves very busily during this time in making

various garments of cocoa-nut cloth, as those with which we had

landed were beginning to be very ragged. Peterkin also succeeded

in making excellent shoes out of the skin of the old hog, in the

following manner:- He first cut a piece of the hide, of an oblong

form, a few inches longer than his foot. This he soaked in water,

and, while it was wet, he sewed up one end of it, so as to form a

rough imitation of that part of the heel of a shoe where the seam

is. This done, he bored a row of holes all round the edge of the

piece of skin, through which a tough line was passed. Into the

sewed-up part of this shoe he thrust his heel, then, drawing the

string tight, the edges rose up and overlapped his foot all round.

It is true there were a great many ill-looking puckers in these

shoes, but we found them very serviceable notwithstanding, and Jack

came at last to prefer them to his long boots. We ago made various

other useful articles, which added to our comfort, and once or

twice spoke of building us a house, but we had so great an

affection for the bower, and, withal, found it so serviceable, that

we determined not to leave it, nor to attempt the building of a

house, which, in such a climate, might turn out to be rather

disagreeable than useful.

 

We often examined the pistol that we had found in the house on the

other side of the island, and Peterkin wished much that we had

powder and shot, as it would render pig-killing much easier; but,

after all, we had become so expert in the use of our sling and bow

and spear, that we were independent of more deadly weapons.

 

Diving in the Water Garden also continued to afford us as much

pleasure as ever; and Peterkin began to be a little more expert in

the water from constant practice. As for Jack and I, we began to

feel as if water were our native element, and revelled in it with

so much confidence and comfort that Peterkin said he feared we

would turn into fish some day, and swim off and leave him; adding,

that he had been for a long time observing that Jack was becoming

more and more like a shark every day. Whereupon Jack remarked,

that if he, Peterkin, were changed into a fish, he would certainly

turn into nothing better or bigger than a shrimp. Poor Peterkin

did not envy us our delightful excursions under water, except,

indeed, when Jack would dive down to the bottom of the Water

Garden, sit down on a rock and look up and make faces at him.

Peterkin did feel envious then, and often said he would give

anything to be able to do that. I was much amused when Peterkin

said this; for if he could only have seen his own face when he

happened to take a short dive, he would have seen that Jack’s was

far surpassed by it. The great difference being, however, that

Jack made faces on purpose - Peterkin couldn’t help it!

 

Now, while we were engaged with these occupations and amusements,

an event occurred one day which was as unexpected as it was

exceedingly alarming and very horrible.

 

Jack and I were sitting, as we were often wont to do, on the rocks

at Spouting Cliff, and Peterkin was wringing the water from his

garments, having recently fallen by accident into the sea, - a

thing he was constantly doing, - when our attention was suddenly

arrested by two objects which appeared on the horizon.

 

“What are yon, think you?” I said, addressing Jack.

 

“I can’t imagine,” answered he; “I’ve noticed them for some time,

and fancied they were black sea-gulls, but the more I look at them

the more I feel convinced they are much larger than gulls.”

 

“They seem to be coming towards us,” said I.

 

“Hallo! what’s wrong?” inquired Peterkin, coming up.

 

“Look there,” said Jack.

 

“Whales!” cried Peterkin, shading his eyes with his hand. “No! eh!

can they be boats, Jack?”

 

Our hearts beat with excitement at the very thought of seeing human

faces again.

 

“I think you are about right, Peterkin; - but they seem to me to

move strangely for boats,” said Jack, in a low tone, as if he were

talking to himself.

 

I noticed that a shade of anxiety crossed Jack’s countenance as he

gazed long and intently at the two objects, which were now nearing

us fast. At last he sprang to his feet. “They are canoes, Ralph!

whether war-canoes or not I cannot tell, but this I know, that all

the natives of the South Sea Islands are fierce cannibals, and they

have little respect for strangers. We must hide if they land here,

which I earnestly hope they will not do.”

 

I was greatly alarmed at Jack’s speech, but I confess I thought

less of what he said than of the earnest, anxious manner in which

he said it, and it was with very uncomfortable feelings that

Peterkin and I followed him quickly into the woods.

 

“How unfortunate,” said I, as we gained the shelter of the bushes,

“that we have forgotten our arms.”

 

“It matters not,” said Jack; “here are clubs enough and to spare.”

As he spoke, he laid his hand on a bundle of stout poles of various

sizes, which Peterkin’s ever-busy hands had formed, during our

frequent visits to the cliff, for no other purpose, apparently,

than that of having something to do.

 

We each selected a stout club according to our several tastes, and

lay down behind a rock, whence we could see the canoes approach,

without ourselves being seen. At first we made an occasional

remark on their appearance, but after they entered the lagoon, and

drew near the beach, we ceased to speak, and gazed with intense

interest at the scene before us.

 

We now observed that the foremost canoe was being chased by the

other, and that it contained a few women and children, as well as

men, - perhaps forty souls altogether; while the canoe which

pursued it contained only men. They seemed to be about the same in

number, but were better armed, and had the appearance of being a

war party. Both crews were paddling with all their might, and it

seemed as if the pursuers exerted themselves to overtake the

natives ere they could land. In this, however, they failed. The

foremost canoe made for the beach close beneath the rocks behind

which we were concealed. Their short paddles flashed like meteors

in the water, and sent up a constant shower of spray. The foam

curled from the prow, and the eyes of the rowers glistened in their

black faces as they strained every muscle of their naked bodies;

nor did they relax their efforts till the canoe struck the beach

with a violent shock; then, with a shout of defiance, the whole

party sprang, as if by magic, from the canoe to the shore. Three

women, two of whom carried infants in their arms, rushed into the

woods; and the men crowded to the water’s edge, with stones in

their hands, spears levelled, and clubs brandished, to resist the

landing of their enemies.

 

The distance between the two canoes had been about half a mile,

and, at the great speed they were going, this was soon passed. As

the pursuers neared the shore, no sign of fear or hesitation was

noticeable. On they came like a wild charger, - received but

recked not of a shower of stones. The canoe struck, and, with a

yell that seemed to issue from the throats of incarnate fiends,

they leaped into the water, and drove their enemies up the beach.

 

The battle that immediately ensued was frightful to behold. Most

of the men wielded clubs of enormous size and curious shapes, with

which they dashed out each other’s brains. As they were almost

entirely naked, and had to bound, stoop, leap, and run, in their

terrible hand-to-hand encounters, they looked more like demons than

human beings. I felt my heart grow sick at the sight of this

bloody battle, and would fain have turned away, but a species of

fascination seemed to hold me down and glue my eyes upon the

combatants. I observed that the attacking party was led by a most

extraordinary being, who, from his size and peculiarity, I

concluded was a chief. His hair was frizzed out to an enormous

extent, so that it resembled a large turban. It was of a light-yellow hue, which surprised me much, for the man’s body was as

black as coal, and I felt convinced that the hair must have been

dyed. He was tattooed from head to foot; and his face, besides

being tattooed, was besmeared with red paint, and streaked with

white. Altogether, with his yellow turban-like hair, his Herculean

black frame, his glittering eyes and white teeth, he seemed the

most terrible monster I ever beheld. He was very active in the

fight, and had already killed four men.

 

Suddenly the yellow-haired chief was attacked by a man quite as

strong and large as himself. He flourished a heavy club something

like an eagle’s beak at the point. For a second or two these

giants eyed each other warily, moving round and round, as if to

catch each other at a disadvantage, but seeing that nothing was to

be gained by this caution, and that the loss of time might

effectually turn the tide of battle either way, they apparently

made up their minds to attack at the same instant, for, with a wild

shout and simultaneous spring, they swung their heavy clubs, which

met with a loud report. Suddenly the yellow-haired savage tripped,

his