The Coral Island by Robert Michael Ballantyne (top rated books of all time .txt) 📕

sometimes flew exceedingly high, and, every here and there, a

beautiful rainbow was formed for a moment among the falling drops.

We afterwards found that this coral reef extended quite round the

island, and formed a natural breakwater to it. Beyond this the sea

rose and tossed violently from the effects of the storm; but

between the reef and the shore it was as calm and as smooth as a

pond.

My heart was filled with more delight than I can express at sight

of so many glorious objects, and my thoughts turned suddenly to the

contemplation of the Creator of them all. I mention this the more

gladly, because at that time, I am ashamed to say, I very seldom

thought of my Creator, although I was constantly surrounded by the

most beautiful and wonderful of His works. I observed from the

expression of my companion’s countenance that he too derived much

joy from the splendid scenery, which was all the more agreeable to

us after our long voyage on the salt sea. There, the breeze was

fresh and cold, but here it was delightfully mild; and, when a puff

blew off the land, it came laden with the most exquisite perfume

that can be imagined. While we thus gazed, we were startled by a

loud “Huzza!” from Peterkin, and, on looking towards the edge of

the sea, we saw him capering and jumping about like a monkey, and

ever and anon tugging with all his might at something that lay upon

the shore.

“What an odd fellow he is, to be sure,” said Jack, taking me by the

arm and hurrying forward; “come, let us hasten to see what it is.”

“Here it is, boys, hurrah! come along. Just what we want,” cried

Peterkin, as we drew near, still tugging with all his power.

“First rate; just the very ticket!”

I need scarcely say to my readers that my companion Peterkin was in

the habit of using very remarkable and peculiar phrases. And I am

free to confess that I did not well understand the meaning of some

of them, - such, for instance, as “the very ticket;” but I think it

my duty to recount everything relating to my adventures with a

strict regard to truthfulness in as far as my memory serves me; so

I write, as nearly as possible, the exact words that my companions

spoke. I often asked Peterkin to explain what he meant by

“ticket,” but he always answered me by going into fits of laughter.

However, by observing the occasions on which he used it, I came to

understand that it meant to show that something was remarkably

good, or fortunate.

On coming up we found that Peterkin was vainly endeavouring to pull

the axe out of the oar, into which, it will be remembered, Jack

struck it while endeavouring to cut away the cordage among which it

had become entangled at the bow of the ship. Fortunately for us

the axe had remained fast in the oar, and even now, all Peterkin’s

strength could not draw it out of the cut.

“Ah! that is capital indeed,” cried Jack, at the same time giving

the axe a wrench that plucked it out of the tough wood. “How

fortunate this is! It will be of more value to us than a hundred

knives, and the edge is quite new and sharp.”

“I’ll answer for the toughness of the handle at any rate,” cried

Peterkin; “my arms are nearly pulled out of the sockets. But see

here, our luck is great. There is iron on the blade.” He pointed

to a piece of hoop iron, as he spoke, which had been nailed round

the blade of the oar to prevent it from splitting.

This also was a fortunate discovery. Jack went down on his knees,

and with the edge of the axe began carefully to force out the

nails. But as they were firmly fixed in, and the operation blunted

our axe, we carried the oar up with us to the place where we had

left the rest of our things, intending to burn the wood away from

the iron at a more convenient time.

“Now, lads,” said Jack, after we had laid it on the stone which

contained our little all, “I propose that we should go to the tail

of the island, where the ship struck, which is only a quarter of a

mile off, and see if anything else has been thrown ashore. I don’t

expect anything, but it is well to see. When we get back here it

will be time to have our supper and prepare our beds.”

“Agreed!” cried Peterkin and I together, as, indeed, we would have

agreed to any proposal that Jack made; for, besides his being older

and much stronger and taller than either of us, he was a very

clever fellow, and I think would have induced people much older

than himself to choose him for their leader, especially if they

required to be led on a bold enterprise.

Now, as we hastened along the white beach, which shone so brightly

in the rays of the setting sun that our eyes were quite dazzled by

its glare, it suddenly came into Peterkin’s head that we had

nothing to eat except the wild berries which grew in profusion at

our feet.

“What shall we do, Jack?” said he, with a rueful look; “perhaps

they may be poisonous!”

“No fear,” replied Jack, confidently; “I have observed that a few

of them are not unlike some of the berries that grow wild on our

own native hills. Besides, I saw one or two strange birds eating

them just a few minutes ago, and what won’t kill the birds won’t

kill us. But look up there, Peterkin,” continued Jack, pointing to

the branched head of a cocoa-nut palm. “There are nuts for us in

all stages.”

“So there are!” cried Peterkin, who being of a very unobservant

nature had been too much taken up with other things to notice

anything so high above his head as the fruit of a palm tree. But,

whatever faults my young comrade had, he could not be blamed for

want of activity or animal spirits. Indeed, the nuts had scarcely

been pointed out to him when he bounded up the tall stem of the

tree like a squirrel, and, in a few minutes, returned with three

nuts, each as large as a man’s fist.

“You had better keep them till we return,” raid Jack. “Let us

finish our work before eating.”

“So be it, captain, go ahead,” cried Peterkin, thrusting the nuts

into his trousers pocket. “In fact I don’t want to eat just now,

but I would give a good deal for a drink. Oh that I could find a

spring! but I don’t see the smallest sign of one hereabouts. I

say, Jack, how does it happen that you seem to be up to everything?

You have told us the names of half-a-dozen trees already, and yet

you say that you were never in the South Seas before.”

“I’m not up to EVERYTHING, Peterkin, as you’ll find out ere long,”

replied Jack, with a smile; “but I have been a great reader of

books of travel and adventure all my life, and that has put me up

to a good many things that you are, perhaps, not acquainted with.”

“Oh, Jack, that’s all humbug. If you begin to lay everything to

the credit of books, I’ll quite lose my opinion of you,” cried

Peterkin, with a look of contempt. “I’ve seen a lot o’ fellows

that were ALWAYS poring over books, and when they came to try to DO

anything, they were no better than baboons!”

“You are quite right,” retorted Jack; “and I have seen a lot of

fellows who never looked into books at all, who knew nothing about

anything except the things they had actually seen, and very little

they knew even about these. Indeed, some were so ignorant that

they did not know that cocoa-nuts grew on cocoa-nut trees!”

I could not refrain from laughing at this rebuke, for there was

much truth in it, as to Peterkin’s ignorance.

“Humph! maybe you’re right,” answered Peterkin; “but I would not

give TUPPENCE for a man of books, if he had nothing else in him.”

“Neither would I,” said Jack; “but that’s no reason why you should

run books down, or think less of me for having read them. Suppose,

now, Peterkin, that you wanted to build a ship, and I were to give

you a long and particular account of the way to do it, would not

that be very useful?”

“No doubt of it,” said Peterkin, laughing.

“And suppose I were to write the account in a letter instead of

telling you in words, would that be less useful?”

“Well - no, perhaps not.”

“Well, suppose I were to print it, and send it to you in the form

of a book, would it not be as good and useful as ever?”

“Oh, bother! Jack, you’re a philosopher, and that’s worse than

anything!” cried Peterkin, with a look of pretended horror.

“Very well, Peterkin, we shall see,” returned Jack, halting under

the shade of a cocoa-nut tree. “You said you were thirsty just a

minute ago; now, jump up that tree and bring down a nut, - not a

ripe one, bring a green, unripe one.”

Peterkin looked surprised, but, seeing that Jack was in earnest, he

obeyed.

“Now, cut a hole in it with your penknife, and clap it to your

mouth, old fellow,” said Jack.

Peterkin did as he was directed, and we both burst into

uncontrollable laughter at the changes that instantly passed over

his expressive countenance. No sooner had he put the nut to his

mouth, and thrown back his head in order to catch what came out of

it, than his eyes opened to twice their ordinary size with

astonishment, while his throat moved vigorously in the act of

swallowing. Then a smile and look of intense delight overspread

his face, except, indeed, the mouth, which, being firmly fixed to

the hole in the nut, could not take part in the expression; but he

endeavoured to make up for this by winking at us excessively with

his right eye. At length he stopped, and, drawing a long breath,

exclaimed -

“Nectar! perfect nectar! I say, Jack, you’re a Briton - the best

fellow I ever met in my life. Only taste that!” said he, turning

to me and holding the nut to my mouth. I immediately drank, and

certainly I was much surprised at the delightful liquid that flowed

copiously down my throat. It was extremely cool, and had a sweet

taste, mingled with acid; in fact, it was the likest thing to

lemonade I ever tasted, and was most grateful and refreshing. I

handed the nut to Jack, who, after tasting it, said, “Now,

Peterkin, you unbeliever, I never saw or tasted a cocoa nut in my

life before, except those sold in shops at home; but I once read

that the green nuts contain that stuff, and you see it is true!”

“And pray,” asked Peterkin, “what sort of ‘stuff’ does the ripe nut

contain?”

“A hollow kernel,” answered Jack, “with a liquid like milk in it;

but it does not satisfy thirst so well as hunger. It is very

wholesome food I believe.”

“Meat and drink on the same tree!” cried Peterkin; “washing in the

sea, lodging on the ground, - and all for nothing! My dear boys,

we’re set up for life; it must be the ancient Paradise, - hurrah!”

and