The Lonely Island: The Refuge of the Mutineers, R. M. Ballantyne [books successful people read TXT] 📗

What I knows I knows an’ can teach, an’ what I don’t know I let alone, an there’s an end on’t. There’s no makin’ a better o’ that. Then, as to writin’, though my hand is crabbed enough, and my pot-hooks are shaky and sprawly, still I know the shapes o’ things, an’ the youngsters are so quick that they can most of ’em write better than myself; but in regard to that ’rithmetic, it’s a heartbreak altogether, for I’ve only just got enough of it to puzzle me. Wi’ the use o’ my fingers I can do simple addition pretty well, an’ I can screw round subtraction, but multiplication’s a terrible business. Unfort’nitely my edication has carried me only the length o’ the fourth line, an’ that ain’t enough.”

He paused, and the lively lizard, ready to fly at a moment’s notice, put its head on one side as if interested in the man’s difficulty.

“Seven times eight, now,” continued Adams. “I’ve no more notion what that is than the man in the moon. An’ I’ve no table to tell me, an’ no way o’ findin’ it out—eh? Why, yes I have. I’ll mark ’em down one at a time an’ count ’em up.”

He gave his thigh a slap, which sent the lively lizard into his hole, horrified.

“Poor thing, I didn’t mean that,” he said to the absent animal. “Hows’ever, I’ll try it. Why, I’ll make a multiplication-table for myself. Strange that that way never struck me before.”

As he went on muttering he busied himself in rubbing clean a flat surface of rock, on which, with a piece of reddish stone, he made a row of eight marks, one below another. Alongside of that he made another row of eight marks, and so on till he had put down seven rows, when he counted them up, and found the result to be fifty-six. This piece of acquired knowledge he jotted down in a little notebook, which, with a quantity of other stationery, had originally belonged to that great fountain of wealth, the Bounty.

“Why, I’ll make out the whole table in this way,” he said, quite heartily, as he sat down again on the flat rock and went to work.

Of course he found the process laborious, especially when he got among the higher numbers; but Adams was not a man to be turned from his purpose by trifles. He persevered until his efforts were crowned with success.

While he was engaged with the multiplication problem on that day, he was interrupted by the sound of merry voices, and soon Otaheitan Sally, Bessy Mills, May Christian, Sarah Quintal, and his own daughter Dinah, came tripping up the hill towards him.

These five, ranging from fifteen to nineteen, were fond of rambling through the woods in company, being not only the older members of the young flock, but like-minded in many things. Sally was looked up to by the other four as being the eldest and wisest, as well as the most beautiful; and truly, the fine clear complexion of the pretty brunette contrasted well with their fairer skins and golden or light-brown locks.

“We came up to have a chat with you, father,” said Sally, as they drew near. “Are you too busy to be bothered with us?”

“Never too busy to chat with such dear girls,” said the gallant seaman, throwing down his piece of red chalk, and taking one of Sally’s hands in his. “Sit down, Sall; sit down, May, on the other side—there. Now, what have you come to chat about?”

“About that dear Topaz, of course, and that darling Captain Folger, and Jack Brace, and all the rest of them,” answered Sarah Quintal, with sparkling eyes.

“Hallo, Sarah! you’ve sent your heart away with them, I fear,” said Adams.

“Not quite, but nearly,” returned Sarah. “I would give anything if the whole crew would only have stayed with us altogether.”

“Oh! how charming! delightful! so nice!” exclaimed three of the others. Sally said nothing, but gave a little smile, which sent a sparkle from her pearly teeth that harmonised well with the gleam of her laughter-loving eyes.

“No doubt,” said Adams, with a peculiar laugh; “but, I say, girls, you must not go on thinking for ever about that ship. Why, it is six months or more since it left us, and you are all as full of it as if it had sailed but yesterday.”

“How can we help it, father?” said Sally. “It is about the most wonderful thing that has happened since we were born, and you can’t expect us to get it out of our heads easily.”

“And how can we help thinking, and talking too,” said Bessy Mills, “about all the new and strange things that Jack Brace related to us?”

“Besides, father,” said Dinah, “you are quite as bad as we are, for you talk about nothing else now, almost, except Lord Nelson and the battles of the Nile and Trafalgar.”

“Come, come, Di; don’t be hard on me. I don’t say much about them battles now.”

“Indeed you do,” cried May Christian, “and it is only last night that I heard you muttering something about Trafalgar in your sleep, and you suddenly broke out with a half-muttered shout like this: ‘Englan’ ’specs every man’ll do’s dooty!’”

May was not a bad mimic. This was received with a shout of laughter by the other girls.

While they were conversing thus two tall and slim but broad-shouldered youths were seen climbing the hill towards them, engaged in very earnest conversation. And this reference to conversation reminds us of the curious fact that the language of the young Pitcairners had greatly improved of late. As they had no other living model to improve upon than John Adams, this must have been entirely the result of reading. Although the books they had were few, they proved to be sufficient not only to fill their minds with higher thoughts, but their mouths with purer English than that nautical type which had been peculiar to the mutineers.

The tall striplings who now approached were Daniel McCoy and Charlie Christian. These two were great friends and confidants. We will not reveal the subject of their remarkably earnest conversation, but merely give the concluding sentences.

“Well, Charlie,” said Dan, as they came in view of the knoll on which Adams and the girls were seated, “we will pluck up courage and make a dash at it together.”

“Ye-es,” said Charlie, with hesitation.

“And shall we break the ice by referring to Toc’s condition, eh?” said Dan.

“Well, it seems to me the easiest plan; perhaps I should say the least difficult,” returned Charlie, with a faint smile.

“Come, don’t lose heart, Charlie,” said Dan, with an attempt to look humorous, which signally failed.

“Hallo, lads! where away?” said Adams, as they came up.

“Just bin havin’ a walk and a talk, father,” answered Dan. “We saw you up here, and came to walk back with you.”

“I’m not so sure that we’ll let you. The girls and I have been having a pleasant confab, an’ p’r’aps they don’t want to be interrupted.”

“Oh, we don’t mind; they may come,” said Di Adams, with a laugh.

So the youths joined the party, and they all descended the mountain in company.

A footnote in Lady Belcher’s book tells us that this chronometer had been twice carried out by Captain Cook on his voyages of discovery. It was afterwards supplied to the Bounty when she was fitted out for what was to be her last voyage, and carried by the mutineers to Pitcairn Island. Captain Folger brought it away, but it was taken from him the same year by the governor of Juan Fernandez, and sold in Chili to A Caldeleugh, Esquire, of Valparaiso, from whom it was purchased by Captain, (afterwards Admiral), Sir T. Herbert for fifty guineas. That officer took it to China, and in 1843 brought it to England and transmitted it to the Admiralty, by which department it was presented to the United Service Museum, in Great Scotland Yard, where the writer saw it only a few days ago, and was told that it keeps excellent time still.