The Coral Island: A Tale of the Pacific Ocean

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  Reflections--The wounded man--The squall--True consolation--Death.

  There is a power of endurance in human beings, both in their bodies andin their minds, which, I have often thought, seems to be wonderfullyadapted and exactly proportioned to the circumstances in whichindividuals may happen to be placed,--a power which, in most cases, issufficient to carry a man through and over every obstacle that may happento be thrown in his path through life, no matter how high or how steepthe mountain may be, but which often forsakes him the moment the summitis gained, the point of difficulty passed; and leaves him prostrated,with energies gone, nerves unstrung, and a feeling of incapacitypervading the entire frame that renders the most trifling effort almostimpossible.

  During the greater part of that day I had been subjected to severe mentaland much physical excitement, which had almost crushed me down by thetime I was relieved from duty in the course of the evening. But when theexpedition, whose failure has just been narrated, was planned, myanxieties and energies had been so powerfully aroused that I went throughthe protracted scenes of that terrible night without a feeling of theslightest fatigue. My mind and body were alike active and full ofenergy. No sooner was the last thrilling fear of danger past, however,than my faculties were utterly relaxed; and, when I felt the cool breezesof the Pacific playing around my fevered brow, and heard the free wavesrippling at the schooner's prow, as we left the hated island behind us,my senses forsook me and I fell in a swoon upon the deck.

  From this state I was quickly aroused by Bill, who shook me by the arm,saying,--

  "Hallo! Ralph, boy, rouse up, lad, we're safe now. Poor thing, I believehe's fainted." And raising me in his arms he laid me on the folds of thegaff-top-sail, which lay upon the deck near the tiller. "Here, take adrop o' this, it'll do you good, my boy," he added, in a voice oftenderness which I had never heard him use before, while he held a brandy-flask to my lips.

  I raised my eyes gratefully, as I swallowed a mouthful; next moment myhead sank heavily upon my arm and I fell fast asleep. I slept long, forwhen I awoke the sun was a good way above the horizon. I did not move onfirst opening my eyes, as I felt a delightful sensation of rest pervadingme, and my eyes were riveted on and charmed with the gorgeous splendourof the mighty ocean, that burst upon my sight. It was a dead calm; thesea seemed a sheet of undulating crystal, tipped and streaked with thesaffron hues of sunrise, which had not yet merged into the glowing heatof noon; and there was a deep calm in the blue dome above, that was notbroken even by the usual flutter of the sea-fowl. How long I would havelain in contemplation of this peaceful scene I know not, but my mind wasrecalled suddenly and painfully to the past and the present by the sightof Bill, who was seated on the deck at my feet with his head reclining,as if in sleep, on his right arm, which rested on the tiller. As heseemed to rest peacefully I did not mean to disturb him, but the slightnoise I made in raising myself on my elbow caused him to start and lookround.

  "Well, Ralph, awake at last, my boy; you have slept long and soundly," hesaid, turning towards me.

  On beholding his countenance I sprang up in anxiety. He was deadly pale,and his hair, which hung in dishevelled locks over his face, was clottedwith blood. Blood also stained his hollow cheeks and covered the frontof his shirt, which, with the greater part of dress, was torn and soiledwith mud.

  "Oh, Bill!" said I, with deep anxiety, "what is the matter with you? Youare ill. You must have been wounded."

  "Even so, lad," said Bill in a deep soft voice, while he extended hishuge frame on the couch from which I had just risen. "I've got an uglywound, I fear, and I've been waiting for you to waken, to ask you to getme a drop o' brandy and a mouthful o' bread from the cabin lockers. Youseemed to sleep so sweetly, Ralph, that I didn't like to disturb you. ButI don't feel up to much just now."

  I did not wait till he had done talking, but ran below immediately, andreturned in a few seconds with a bottle of brandy and some brokenbiscuit. He seemed much refreshed after eating a few morsels anddrinking a long draught of water mingled with a little of the spirits.Immediately afterwards he fell asleep, and I watched him anxiously untilhe awoke, being desirous of knowing the nature and extent of his wound.

  "Ha!" he exclaimed, on awaking suddenly, after a slumber of an hour, "I'mthe better of that nap, Ralph; I feel twice the man I was;" and heattempted to rise, but sank back again immediately with a deep groan.

  "Nay, Bill you must not move, but lie still while I look at your wound.I'll make a comfortable bed for you here on deck, and get you somebreakfast. After that you shall tell me how you got it. Cheer up,Bill," I added, seeing that he turned his head away; "you'll be all rightin a little, and I'll be a capital nurse to you though I'm no doctor."

  I then left him, and lighted a fire in the caboose. While it waskindling, I went to the steward's pantry and procured the materials for agood breakfast, with which, in little more than half an hour, I returnedto my companion. He seemed much better, and smiled kindly on me as I setbefore him a cup of coffee and a tray with several eggs and some bread onit.

  "Now then, Bill," said I, cheerfully, sitting down beside him on thedeck, "let's fall to. I'm very hungry myself, I can tell you; but--Iforgot--your wound," I added, rising; "let me look at it."

  I found that the wound was caused by a pistol shot in the chest. It didnot bleed much, and, as it was on the right side, I was in hopes that itmight not be very serious. But Bill shook his head. "However," said he,"sit down, Ralph, and I'll tell you all about it."

  "You see, after we left the boat an' began to push through the bushes, wewent straight for the line of my musket, as I had expected; but by someunlucky chance it didn't explode, for I saw the line torn away by themen's legs, and heard the click o' the lock; so I fancy the priming hadgot damp and didn't catch. I was in a great quandary now what to do, forI couldn't concoct in my mind, in the hurry, any good reason for firin'off my piece. But they say necessity's the mother of invention; so, justas I was givin' it up and clinchin' my teeth to bide the worst o't, andtake what should come, a sudden thought came into my head. I stepped outbefore the rest, seemin' to be awful anxious to be at the savages,tripped my foot on a fallen tree, plunged head foremost into a bush, an',ov coorse, my carbine exploded! Then came such a screechin' from thecamp as I never heard in all my life. I rose at once, and was rushin' onwith the rest when the captain called a halt.

  {The dying pirate: p334.jpg}

  "'You did that a-purpose, you villain!' he said, with a tremendous oath,and, drawin' a pistol from his belt, let fly right into my breast. Ifell at once, and remembered no more till I was startled and broughtround by the most awful yell I ever heard in my life, except, maybe, theshrieks o' them poor critters that were crushed to death under yon bigcanoe. Jumpin' up, I looked round, and, through the trees, saw a firegleamin' not far off, the light o' which showed me the captain and mentied hand and foot, each to a post, and the savages dancin' round themlike demons. I had scarce looked for a second, when I saw one o' them goup to the captain flourishing a knife, and, before I could wink, heplunged it into his breast, while another yell, like the one that rousedme, rang upon my ear. I didn't wait for more, but, bounding up, wentcrashing through the bushes into the woods. The black fellows caughtsight of me, however, but not in time to prevent me jumpin' into theboat, as you know."

  Bill seemed to be much exhausted after this recital, and shudderedfrequently during the narrative, so I refrained from continuing thesubject at that time, and endeavoured to draw his mind to other things.

  "But now, Bill," said I, "it behoves us to think about the future, andwhat course of action we shall pursue. Here we are, on the wide Pacific,in a well-appointed schooner, which is our own,--at least no one has abetter claim to it than we have,--and the world lies before us. Moreover,here comes a breeze, so we must make up our minds which way to steer."

  "Ralph, boy," said my companion, "it matters not to me which way we go. Ifear that my
time is short now. Go where you will. I'm content."

  "Well then, Bill, I think we had better steer to the Coral Island, andsee what has become of my dear old comrades, Jack and Peterkin. Ibelieve the island has no name, but the captain once pointed it out to meon the chart, and I marked it afterwards; so, as we know pretty well ourposition just now, I think I can steer to it. Then, as to working thevessel, it is true I cannot hoist the sails single-handed, but luckily wehave enough of sail set already, and if it should come on to blow asquall, I could at least drop the peaks of the main and fore sails, andclew them up partially without help, and throw her head close into thewind, so as to keep her all shaking till the violence of the squall ispast. And if we have continued light breezes, I'll rig up a complicationof blocks and fix them to the top-sail halyards, so that I shall be ableto hoist the sails without help. 'Tis true I'll require half a day tohoist them, but we don't need to mind that. Then I'll make a sort oferection on deck to screen you from the sun, Bill; and if you can onlymanage to sit beside the tiller and steer for two hours every day, so asto let me get a nap, I'll engage to let you off duty all the rest of thetwenty-four hours. And if you don't feel able for steering, I'll lashthe helm and heave to, while I get you your breakfasts and dinners; andso we'll manage famously, and soon reach the Coral Island."

  Bill smiled faintly as I ran on in this strain.

  "And what will you do," said he, "if it comes on to blow a storm?"

  This question silenced me, while I considered what I should do in such acase. At length I laid my hand an his arm, and said, "Bill, when a manhas done all that he _can_ do, he ought to leave the rest to God."

  "Oh, Ralph," said my companion, in a faint voice, looking anxiously intomy face, "I wish that I had the feelin's about God that you seem to have,at this hour. I'm dyin', Ralph; yet I, who have braved death a hundredtimes, am afraid to die. I'm afraid to enter the next world. Somethingwithin tells me there will be a reckoning when I go there. But it's allover with me, Ralph. I feel that there's no chance o' my bein' saved."

  "Don't say that, Bill," said I, in deep compassion, "don't say that. I'mquite sure there's hope even for you, but I can't remember the words ofthe Bible that make me think so. Is there not a Bible on board, Bill?"

  "No; the last that was in the ship belonged to a poor boy that was takenaboard against his will. He died, poor lad, I think, through illtreatment and fear. After he was gone the captain found his Bible andflung it overboard."

  I now reflected, with great sadness and self-reproach, on the way inwhich I had neglected my Bible; and it flashed across me that I wasactually in the sight of God a greater sinner than this blood-stainedpirate; for, thought I, he tells me that he never read the Bible, and wasnever brought up to care for it; whereas I was carefully taught to readit by my own mother, and had read it daily as long as I possessed one,yet to so little purpose that I could not now call to mind a single textthat would meet this poor man's case, and afford him the consolation heso much required. I was much distressed, and taxed my memory for a longtime. At last a text did flash into my mind, and I wondered much that Ihad not thought of it before.

  "Bill," said I, in a low voice, "'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ andthou shalt be saved.'"

  "Ay, Ralph, I've heard the missionaries say that before now, but whatgood can it do me? It's not for me that. It's not for the likes o' me."

  I knew not now what to say, for, although I felt sure that that word wasfor him as well as for me, I could not remember any other word whereby Icould prove it.

  After a short pause, Bill raised his eyes to mine and said, "Ralph, I'veled a terrible life. I've been a sailor since I was a boy, and I've gonefrom bad to worse ever since I left my father's roof. I've been a piratethree years now. It is true I did not choose the trade, but I wasinveigled aboard this schooner and kept here by force till I becamereckless and at last joined them. Since that time my hand has beensteeped in human blood again and again. Your young heart would grow coldif I--; but why should I go on? 'Tis of no use, Ralph; my doom isfixed."

  "Bill," said I, "'Though your sins be red like crimson, they shall bewhite as snow.' 'Only believe.'"

  "Only believe!" cried Bill, starting up on his elbow; "I've heard mentalk o' believing as if it was easy. Ha! 'tis easy enough for a man topoint to a rope and say, 'I believe that would bear my weight;' but 'tisanother thing for a man to catch hold o' that rope, and swing himself byit over the edge of a precipice!"

  The energy with which he said this, and the action with which it wasaccompanied, were too much for Bill. He sank back with a deep groan. Asif the very elements sympathized with this man's sufferings, a low moancame sweeping over the sea.

  "Hist! Ralph," said Bill, opening his eves; "there's a squall coming,lad. Look alive, boy. Clew up the fore-sail. Drop the main-sail peak.Them squalls come quick sometimes."

  I had already started to my feet, and saw that a heavy squall was indeedbearing down on us. It had hitherto escaped my notice, owing to my beingso much engrossed by our conversation. I instantly did as Bill desired,for the schooner was still lying motionless on the glassy sea. Iobserved with some satisfaction that the squall was bearing down on thelarboard bow, so that it would strike the vessel in the position in whichshe would be best able to stand the shock. Having done my best toshorten sail, I returned aft, and took my stand at the helm.

  "Now, boy," said Bill, in a faint voice, "keep her close to the wind."

  A few seconds afterwards he said, "Ralph, let me hear those two textsagain."

  I repeated them.

  "Are ye sure, lad, ye saw them in the Bible?"

  "Quite sure," I replied.

  Almost before the words had left my lips the wind burst upon us, and thespray dashed over our decks. For a time the schooner stood it bravely,and sprang forward against the rising sea like a war-horse. Meanwhileclouds darkened the sky, and the sea began to rise in huge billows. Therewas still too much sail on the schooner, and, as the gale increased, Ifeared that the masts would be torn out of her or carried away, while thewind whistled and shrieked through the strained rigging. Suddenly thewind shifted a point, a heavy sea struck us on the bow, and the schoonerwas almost laid on her beam-ends, so that I could scarcely keep my legs.At the same moment Bill lost his hold of the belaying-pin which hadserved to steady him, and he slid with stunning violence against the sky-light. As he lay on the deck close beside me, I could see that the shockhad rendered him insensible, but I did not dare to quit the tiller for aninstant, as it required all my faculties, bodily and mental, to managethe schooner. For an hour the blast drove us along, while, owing to thesharpness of the vessel's bow and the press of canvass, she dashedthrough the waves instead of breasting over them, thereby drenching thedecks with water fore and aft. At the end of that time the squall passedaway, and left us rocking on the bosom of the agitated sea.

  My first care, the instant I could quit the helm, was to raise Bill fromthe deck and place him on the couch. I then ran below for the brandybottle and rubbed his face and hands with it, and endeavoured to pour alittle down his throat. But my efforts, although I continued them longand assiduously, were of no avail; as I let go the hand which I had beenchafing it fell heavily on the deck. I laid my hand over his heart, andsat for some time quite motionless, but there was no flutter there--thepirate was dead!