Jack Buntline

Chapter Twelve

The Tribune’s course was now held among the clustering islands of the Pacific. They are mostly bountifully supplied with all the varied productions of the generous tropics. Scarcely a fruit or vegetable of those sunny regions but which in ample abundance is found among them. There various kinds of the bread-fruit tree flourish in the greatest perfection; so likewise the banana and plantain and milk-giving cocoa-nut grow in profusion; yams, pumpkins, cucumbers, guavas, pine apples, shaddocks, oranges, lemons, the tomato, arrow root, the much cultivated taro and sugar cane, with numberless other fruits, vegetables, and nutritious roots, afford an abundant supply of food for man. How warm and genial is the atmosphere! the cold of winter is altogether unknown; storms may blow, but they are necessary to purify the air; rains at times descend to fertilise the earth, but generally a bright blue sky is seen overhead, and the rays of the glorious sun sparkle on the blue waters of a placid sea. All nature is beautiful and excellent, but savage man is the dark and loathsome spot which defiles it; not as he was when first he walked in Paradise, but as sin and all his evil passions have made him. Jack and his shipmates heard the character of these islanders, and though not much given to shuddering, shuddered as they heard the tale.

Nowhere on the face of the globe did more bloodthirsty cannibals exist, especially among the chiefs. To satisfy their horrible and unnatural craving for human flesh, they murdered every one who was shipwrecked on their coast. Even if a canoe was cast on shore with their own people they claimed the crew as their victims; they went to war for this sole object; they lay in wait and carried off helpless women and children, even their slaves they often killed to feed upon. When a war canoe was finished they dragged her over the writhing bodies of their captives, and when first she put to sea they murdered others on her deck. When a chief’s house or a temple was built, men were compelled to descend and hold the upright posts, when the earth was shovelled in upon their heads.

When a chief died, all his wives were strangled or burnt; mothers destroyed their infants – children compelled their aged parents to descend living into a tomb when weary of supporting them – and young men, when disappointed of some object, would desire to be buried; and their own parents would assist seemingly with pleasure at the horrible ceremony. Their only religion seemed to be an unwilling worship of evil spirits; not from love or reverence, but to avert the mischief they might otherwise work upon them.

The minds and hearts and souls of all those island tribes seemed to be sunk into the lowest depths of darkness. Such was their condition when the Tribune visited them. They gazed with wonder on her snow-white sails and frowning battery of guns. They had often before seen whalers, and other smaller vessels; but never since Captain Cook, in days gone by, came to their shores, had they seen a ship comparable to her in size.

The Tribune soon cast anchor in a beautiful and sheltered bay, the shores of which, down nearly to the water’s edge, were ornamented with a feathery fringe of palm and other graceful trees. While Jack and his shipmates were looking towards the smooth and yellow sand, over which the waves gently rippled, they saw numerous natives running along, as if in eager haste; and presently several large canoes, like two boats lashed together, put off towards them. The canoes were allowed to come alongside; and the seamen with good-natured frankness received their savage-looking guests, as they stalked along the decks examining everything with curious eye, and evidently longing to possess the wonders they beheld. Several appeared to be chiefs; but no person could be discovered to have greater authority than all the rest. All day, canoes full of natives came off to the ship, and even when night drew on they seemed in no way inclined to take their departure. At last it was necessary to use some gentle force to make them go; but it was intimated to them by signs that they might return on the morrow, and signs were made to them that fowls and vegetables would be acceptable.

The night drew on – the stars were shining brightly on the placid waters of the bay; the sentries were at their posts; the watch on deck lay concealed under the bulwarks; Jack was stationed forward. As his keen eye glanced towards the shore, he saw several dark objects crossing the light streaming on the water. They increased in numbers. The whole surface of the bay was alive with canoes. What could be the intention of the savages? He ran aft to report the circumstance to the officer of the watch. The sentries at the gangways and quarters now sung out that there were canoes surrounding the ship. In an instant the watch was called; and probably to the surprise of the savages, they discovered that the crew of a British man-of-war are not to be found napping. Silently, as it had approached, the dark flotilla disappeared again into the darkness. The next morning the savages returned on board with smiling and friendly countenances, as if no act of treachery had been intended; and so completely did this apparent frankness lull suspicion asleep, that it was believed no treachery had been contemplated.

The next day a boat was sent to explore the coast, and to select a more secure harbour for the ship; Jack formed one of the crew. Meantime, a most friendly intercourse was maintained with the natives; a number of the officers and crew constantly visiting the shore. While the boat was away a sudden gale sprung up, and the ship was obliged to put to sea to avoid the risk of being driven on shore. Meantime the boat in which were Jack and his companions was driven towards a reef a short distance from the land. The lieutenant in command urged them to pull hard to save their lives. Of course they pulled as they had not often pulled before, but their efforts were of no avail. High rose the foaming breakers around them, and the black rock appeared beneath their keel. Down came the boat upon it and was shattered into a thousand fragments. Jack thought his last moments were come. Still he struck out boldly, though blinded by the spray he could not see where he was going. At length he discovered that he was inside the reef with four of his companions near him, some clinging to oars and bits of the wreck and others swimming. There had been nine in all, four were missing. Jack looked back. He saw a person still struggling in the breakers. Throwing off his shoes and jacket and grasping an oar he bravely swam back, and just as the drowning man was giving up the struggle in despair, he seized him by the collar, and placing his hands on the oar towed him into smooth water. It was the lieutenant. The other poor fellows could nowhere be seen.

Expecting a kind reception from the friendly natives the survivors made towards the shore. Naked, bruised, and bleeding, they reached the yellow shell-strewed sands. They climbed up the bank and approached a village. Before many minutes they were discovered, and some twenty or more savages were seen rushing towards them. Jack was assisting the officer whose life he had saved. They were a little apart from the rest. Near them was an odd looking building, with a hideous figure in the centre, shaded by trees.

“Come in here,” exclaimed the officer. “Follow me, my men.”

Jack and he reached the temple and got hold of the idol. Before the rest could follow their example the savages with hideous yells were upon them with their clubs, and to his grief and horror Jack saw every one of them struck down and killed. The bodies were instantly stripped, and being placed on litters, were carried away by some of the savages, while the rest approached Jack and the lieutenant.

Among them was one who was evidently a chief. He took their hands, but they refused to let go the idol. Jack was heartily ashamed of his position, but he did not forget, that he must look for protection from above. The chief intimated that if they would trust to him they would be safe.

“I don’t believe in a word he says,” observed Jack to the lieutenant; “but as we can’t stay here for ever, I’ll just teach him to have a little respect for us at all events.”

Saying this, Jack sprung on the chief, and clasping him round the body almost squeezed the breath out of him; then lifting him up sat him astride on the back of the idol. The proceeding very much astonished all present, but it had the effect of making the savages respect the bold seaman. His companion, the lieutenant, was, however, dragged away; while the chief, getting down from his unusual seat and taking Jack by the hand, made a long speech to the bystanders, clearly to the effect that he intended to be his friend and protector. Very different was the treatment the unfortunate officer received. No sooner was the speech over than the savages, without warning, set on him with their clubs, and before Jack could go to his assistance clubbed him to death. Poor Jack fully expected to share the same fate, but the savages seemed to have no intention of injuring him. The chief, on the contrary, led him away to a hut, and in a little time several natives appeared bringing a variety of dishes, nicely cooked, on clean plantain leaves, and some liquor in cocoa-nut cups, which was far from unpalatable. Had Jack not witnessed the sad fate of his companions he would not have considered himself badly off. He was, however, a prisoner; for after what had occurred he was very certain that the savages would not let him return to the frigate. All night he lay awake on his bed of leaves thinking how he should escape. Twice he got up, resolved to run off to the shore and to endeavour to swim on board, but each time he found a savage with a long spear sitting at the door of the hut, and a significant gesture made him retreat.

Next day, as he was wandering about attended closely by two or three guards, the sound of music and shouting attracted him to the neighbourhood of the temple. A number of persons, evidently chiefs, were assembled in a shaded dell, while a mob of the common people stood around at a distance. There were large ovens near, from whence a thick vapour ascended into the blue sky. A feast was going forward. Jack stood riveted to the spot with horror as he beheld the scene, and discovered the dreadful fare on which the savages were feasting. He now knew too well why his companions had been so mercilessly slaughtered. His captors were the most cruel of cannibals. He could gaze no longer on the dreadful scene, but ran shrieking from the spot. He was followed closely by his guards, who seemed highly amused at the delicacy of his nerves. For many a day, notwithstanding all the care bestowed on him, he could not banish the idea that he was reserved for the same fate which had befallen his companions. His chief occupation was climbing every height he could reach to look for the frigate.

One day he was sitting, solitary and sad, on a lofty rock overlooking the blue ocean, pondering on the means of escaping from his thraldom, when his eye fell on a white speck in the horizon. For a moment he thought it was but a snowy-winged sea bird, but larger and larger it grew, till he knew it to be the white canvas of a ship; and then as sail after sail rose out of the water, and nearer and nearer she drew to the land, his heart beat high with hope, for he recognised the gallant frigate to which he belonged. On she sailed till she cast anchor in a neighbouring bay. He would have rushed down to the beach and swam off to meet her, but as he was hurrying on with eager feet, several dark savages rose up before him, and by significant gestures impeded his further progress. The frigate’s boats came on shore, and the natives went off to her as before. Jack every day suspected that some diabolical treachery was meditated, and longed to warn his shipmates of their danger, but he was too closely watched to have the slightest chance of communicating with them. How his heart longed to be on board his ship with his brave companions. In vain – in vain he watched an opportunity to escape. At length she sailed; the captain, as Jack suspected, satisfied that the boat had been lost, and that all hands had perished.

Chapter Thirteen

No sooner had the frigate sailed than Jack found himself restored to comparative liberty; but liberty among such cannibals brought no sweets to him. Still he saw that the appearance of contentment was more likely to throw his captors off their guard than the constant exhibition of his misery; so he set himself to work to build a hut after their style, and to cultivate a garden, and to manufacture numerous articles of domestic furniture, as if he had resolved to make himself at home. He was fortunate in discovering a saw, and plane, and other carpenter’s tools, which had either been given in barter to the natives or been stolen by them. These he managed to use very skilfully, greatly to their wonder, as he performed ten times as much work as they could in the same space of time.

He thus gained their respect, and then he bethought himself that he might influence them in some way for good. He rapidly learned their language. He endeavoured to shew them the horrors of cannibalism, and many of their other disgusting practices. Many listened with attentive ears, and to his surprise acquiesced in the truth of his remarks. He pointed out to them the beauty of his own religion, and the pure practices inculcated by it. They drank in deeply what he said. He shewed them what even this world would be without wars, and murders, and violence and deceit, and treachery and wrong; and then he strove to lift their thoughts to another world, where all is pure and holy, and sinless and painless, and full of joy and thanksgiving, where the spirit, freed from this frail casket, having put on an incorruptible body, will, with freedom unfettered, ever be employed in joyously executing the commands of its Almighty Creator. Little thought the rough sailor, for rough he was, though his mind was enlightened, of the fruit which the seeds he was sowing was destined to bring forth.

Months, years passed by, still Jack was a prisoner. Yet he had won the affection of many of the natives, some had even abandoned their worst practices at his instigation.

At length a vessel came from Australia with a party of men to collect a cargo of sandal wood. Some of the chiefs were still anxious to prevent his departure, but, aided by the friends he had made, he was enabled to reach the vessel. He was welcomed by the master and promised protection. The Gipsy was a small schooner. She put into another port to complete her cargo. There, as usual, the natives came on board. He took care not to let it be known that he understood their language. By their looks and behaviour he suspected treachery. He warned the master of the Gipsy, but his warnings were laughed to scorn. Nearly half the crew were on shore. The canoes of the natives came thronging round the schooner. Some of the savages were clambering on board, when Jack discerned through a spyglass a disturbance on shore. The report of firearms was heard.

“What think you of that, sir?” asked Jack of the master.

“That the savages are murdering my people. Cut the cable, loose the sails, we must stand in to defend them. Heave those fellows overboard.”

In another moment the savages would have gained the deck, but while they were driven back with boarding pikes and cutlasses by some of the crew, others sprang aloft to make sail, and before they had time to concert a fresh plan of attack the schooner with a fine breeze ran from among them. As she swept close to the shore firing among the savages, two boats put off to her; but many on board were desperately wounded, while several more men lay dead on the beach. The canoes no longer dared approach her. The savages deserved punishment. The survivors of the schooner’s crew wreaked a severe vengeance on their heads, and then sailed away for their destination, leaving the natives to retaliate on the next vessel which might visit their shores.

Jack reached Sydney in safety, and quitting the schooner, entered on board a merchant brig, the Hope, bound for England.

“I think that I should like once more to visit my native land after all the adventures I have gone through,” observed Jack to a shipmate; but he experienced the truth of the saying, “Man proposes, but God disposes.”

“Yes,” replied his shipmate; “nothing shall stop me from getting there, depend on that.”

“There’s many a thing may stop you, Bill,” answered Jack. “We may be cast away or founder, or be taken by the enemy, or you may fall overboard and be drowned, or fifty other things may happen to you. I would not dare to make so sure if I were you.”

“All nonsense, Jack,” said the other; “when a man has a mind to do a thing he may do it. That’s my opinion. I don’t care who knows it.”

On sailed the Hope on her voyage, but in crossing the Indian Ocean she got into a dead calm. The sun sent its almost perpendicular rays with intense fury down on the heads of the crew. The water shone like a slab of polished steel. Not a breath of air came to fan their cheeks or to move the sluggish sails hanging uselessly against the masts. The heat on deck was intense, the water looked as if it must be cooler and more refreshing.

“Who’s for a swim?” cried one.

“I am, I am,” answered several voices, and in a few seconds a considerable number of the crew were overboard, swimming about like fish in the clear water. How they kicked and splashed about and revelled in the cool fluid. They felt like prisoners set free from their dark cells. Every man who could swim but a few strokes, and some even of those stupid fellows who had neglected to learn one of the most requisite of ordinary accomplishments for landsmen as well as seamen, let themselves down over the ship’s side by ropes, and holding on tight kicked and splashed, and shouted with the rest. Jack, among the boldest of the swimmers, made large circuits round the ship, accompanied by his messmate, Bill Sikes. One encouraging the other they increased their distance from the vessel.

“It’s time we were homeward bound,” observed Jack at last: indeed more than one signal had been made to them from the ship to return. Still Bill in his folly wanted to go farther off. At length they turned with their faces to the ship. As they swam round Jack saw close to them a black triangular object moving along just above the surface of the water: he knew it at a glance to be the fin of that remorseless monster of the deep, a shark. He was afraid of telling his companion what he had seen, lest it should unnerve him; but he himself instantly began to kick and beat the water, and shout in the hopes of keeping the shark at a distance.

“What’s all that about?” asked Bill surprised.

“Do as I do,” answered Jack, splashing more furiously than before; “it will be the better for both of us.”

They swam on thus for some way, but that ominous black fin kept even way with them.

“If either of us stop for a moment the brute will have one or both of us,” thought Jack, and he wished that he had not been so foolhardy as to go so far from his ship. He looked up at the tall masts and dark hull, and the delicate tracery of the rigging, and the white sails, which hung against the masts and were reflected as in a mirror on the tranquil deep, and they seemed still a long, long way from him; but Jack knew in Whom he trusted. He had been foolish and disobedient in going so far from the ship; but he felt that he was under the protection of One, merciful and long suffering, who had the power to save him even from the jaws of the ravenous fish, and to that Great Being he prayed fervently, unceasingly, for aid as he swam on. Not for a moment did he lose heart; still, as now and again he turned his head, there, close to him, was the dark ominous fin, and through the clear water glittered the bright cruel eye of the monster of the deep. As long as the fin was seen Jack knew that the shark was not about to make his attack, but he dreaded every instant to see it disappear; for a shark must always turn on its back to seek its prey.

It was some minutes before Sikes discovered the vicinity of their dreaded companion. Where was now his boasting and his courage? On whom had he now to trust? On his own strength? What could that avail him? Unhappy man. He had never learned to trust in God, who alone can help him now. He cried out piteously to his messmate.

“Jack, Jack, what shall we do now?”

Jack did not taunt him, as he might have done, for his boasting and self-confidence. Far from his heart was such an idea.

“Trust in God, Bill, and keep up your courage,” he shouted with a cheerful voice; “strike away, we shall soon reach the ship.”