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

wrong throat! - unless, indeed, you have all of a sudden become

inordinately selfish, and think that all the throats in the world

are wrong ones except your own. However, don’t talk so much, and

hand me the pork before Jack finishes it. I feel myself entitled

to at least one minute morsel.”

“Peterkin, you’re a villain. A paltry little villain,” said Jack,

quietly, as he tossed the hind legs (including the tail) of a cold

roast pig to his comrade; “and I must again express my regret that

unavoidable circumstances have thrust your society upon me, and

that necessity has compelled me to cultivate your acquaintance.

Were it not that you are incapable of walking upon the water, I

would order you, sir, out of the canoe.”

“There! you’ve wakened Avatea with your long tongue,” retorted

Peterkin, with a frown, as the girl gave vent to a deep sigh.

“No,” he continued, “it was only a snore. Perchance she dreameth

of her black Apollo. I say, Ralph, do leave just one little slice

of that yam. Between you and Jack I run a chance of being put on

short allowance, if not - yei - a - a - ow!”

Peterkin’s concluding remark was a yawn of so great energy that

Jack recommended him to postpone the conclusion of his meal till

next morning, - a piece of advice which he followed so quickly,

that I was forcibly reminded of his remark, a few minutes before,

in regard to the sharp practice of Avatea.

My readers will have observed, probably, by this time, that I am

much given to meditation; they will not, therefore, be surprised to

learn that I fell into a deep reverie on the subject of sleep,

which was continued without intermission into the night, and

prolonged without interruption into the following morning. But I

cannot feel assured that I actually slept during that time,

although I am tolerably certain that I was not awake.

Thus we lay like a shadow on the still bosom of the ocean, while

the night closed in, and all around was calm, dark, and silent.

A thrilling cry of alarm from Peterkin startled us in the morning,

just as the gray dawn began to glimmer in the east.

“What’s wrong?” cried Jack, starting up.

Peterkin replied by pointing with a look of anxious dread towards

the horizon; and a glance sufficed to show us that one of the

largest sized war-canoes was approaching us!

With a groan of mingled despair and anger Jack seized his paddle,

glanced at the compass, and, in a suppressed voice, commanded us to

“give way.”

But we did not require to be urged. Already our four paddles were

glancing in the water, and the canoe bounded over the glassy sea

like a dolphin, while a shout from our pursuers told that they had

observed our motions.

“I see something like land ahead,” said Jack, in a hopeful tone.

“It seems impossible that we could have made the island yet; still,

if it is so, we may reach it before these fellows can catch us, for

our canoe is light and our muscles are fresh.”

No one replied; for, to say truth, we felt that, in a long chase,

we had no chance whatever with a canoe which held nearly a hundred

warriors. Nevertheless, we resolved to do our utmost to escape,

and paddled with a degree of vigour that kept us well in advance of

our pursuers. The war-canoe was so far behind us that it seemed

but a little speck on the sea, and the shouts, to which the crew

occasionally gave vent, came faintly towards us on the morning

breeze. We therefore hoped that we should be able to keep in

advance for an hour or two, when we might, perhaps, reach the land

ahead. But this hope was suddenly crushed by the supposed land,

not long after, rising up into the sky; thus proving itself to be a

fog-bank!

A bitter feeling of disappointment filled each heart, and was

expressed on each countenance, as we beheld this termination to our

hopes. But we had little time to think of regret. Our danger was

too great and imminent to permit of a moment’s relaxation from our

exertions. No hope now animated our bosoms; but a feeling of

despair, strange to say, lent us power to work, and nerved our arms

with such energy, that it was several hours ere the savages

overtook us. When we saw that there was indeed no chance of

escape, and that paddling any longer would only serve to exhaust

our strength, without doing any good, we turned the side of our

canoe towards the approaching enemy, and laid down our paddles.

Silently, and with a look of bitter determination on his face, Jack

lifted one of the light boat-oars that we had brought with us, and,

resting it on his shoulder, stood up in an attitude of bold

defiance. Peterkin took the other oar and also stood up, but there

was no anger visible on his countenance. When not sparkling with

fun, it usually wore a mild, sad expression, which was deepened on

the present occasion, as he glanced at Avatea, who sat with her

face resting in her hands upon her knees. Without knowing very

well what I intended to do, I also arose and grasped my paddle with

both hands.

On came the large canoe like a war-horse of the deep, with the foam

curling from its sharp bow, and the spear-heads of the savages

glancing the beams of the rising sun. Perfect silence was

maintained on both sides, and we could hear the hissing water, and

see the frowning eyes of the warriors, as they came rushing on.

When about twenty yards distant, five or six of the savages in the

bow rose, and, laying aside their paddles, took up their spears.

Jack and Peterkin raised their oars, while, with a feeling of

madness whirling in my brain, I grasped my paddle and prepared for

the onset. But, before any of us could strike a blow, the sharp

prow of the war-canoe struck us like a thunderbolt on the side, and

hurled us into the sea!

What occurred after this I cannot tell, for I was nearly drowned;

but when I recovered from the state of insensibility into which I

had been thrown, I found myself stretched on my back, bound hand

and foot between Jack and Peterkin, in the bottom of the large

canoe.

In this condition we lay the whole day, during which time the

savages only rested one hour. When night came, they rested again

for another hour, and appeared to sleep just as they sat. But we

were neither unbound nor allowed to speak to each other during the

voyage, nor was a morsel of food or a draught of water given to us.

For food, however, we cared little; but we would have given much

for a drop of water to cool our parched lips, and we would have

been glad, too, had they loosened the cords that bound us, for they

were tightly fastened and occasioned us much pain. The air, also,

was unusually hot, so much so that I felt convinced that a storm

was brewing. This also added to our sufferings. However, these

were at length relieved by our arrival at the island from which we

had fled.

While we were being led ashore, we caught a glimpse of Avatea, who

was seated in the hinder part of the canoe. She was not fettered

in any way. Our captors now drove us before them towards the hut

of Tararo, at which we speedily arrived, and found the chief seated

with an expression on his face that boded us no good. Our friend

the teacher stood beside him, with a look of anxiety on his mild

features.

“How comes it,” said Tararo, turning to the teacher, “that these

youths have abused our hospitality?”

“Tell him,” replied Jack, “that we have not abused his hospitality,

for his hospitality has not been extended to us. I came to the

island to deliver Avatea, and my only regret is that I have failed

to do so. If I get another chance, I will try to save her yet.”

The teacher shook his head. “Nay, my young friend, I had better

not tell him that. It will only incense him.”

“Fear not,” replied Jack. “If you don’t tell him that, you’ll tell

him nothing, for I won’t say anything softer.”

On hearing Jack’s speech, Tararo frowned and his eye flashed with

anger.

“Go,” he said, “presumptuous boy. My debt to you is cancelled.

You and your companions shall die.”

As he spoke he rose and signed to several of his attendants, who

seized Jack, and Peterkin, and me, violently by the collars, and,

dragging us from the hut of the chief, led us through the wood to

the outskirts of the village. Here they thrust us into a species

of natural cave in a cliff, and, having barricaded the entrance,

left us in total darkness.

After feeling about for some time - for our legs were unshackled,

although our wrists were still bound with thongs - we found a low

ledge of rock running along one side of the cavern. On this we

seated ourselves, and for a long time maintained unbroken silence.

At last I could restrain my feelings no longer. “Alas! dear Jack

and Peterkin,” said I, “what is to become of us? I fear that we

are doomed to die.”

“I know not,” replied Jack, in a tremulous voice, “I know not;

Ralph, I regret deeply the hastiness of my violent temper, which, I

must confess, has been the chief cause of our being brought to this

sad condition. Perhaps the teacher may do something for us. But I

have little hope.”

“Ah! no,” said Peterkin, with a heavy sigh; “I am sure he can’t

help us. Tararo doesn’t care more for him than for one of his

dogs.”

“Truly,” said I, “there seems no chance of deliverance, unless the

Almighty puts forth his arm to save us. Yet I must say that I have

great hope, my comrades, for we have come to this dark place by no

fault of ours - unless it be a fault to try to succour a woman in

distress.”

I was interrupted in my remarks by a noise at the entrance to the

cavern, which was caused by the removal of the barricade.

Immediately after, three men entered, and, taking us by the collars

of our coats, led us away through the forest. As we advanced, we

heard much shouting and beating of native drums in the village, and

at first we thought that our guards were conducting us to the hut

of Tararo again. But in this we were mistaken. The beating of

drums gradually increased, and soon after we observed a procession

of the natives coming towards us. At the head of this procession

we were placed, and then we all advanced together towards the

temple where human victims were wont to be sacrificed!

A thrill of horror ran through my heart as I recalled to mind the

awful scenes that I had before witnessed at that dreadful spot.

But deliverance came suddenly from a quarter whence we little

expected it. During the whole of that day there had been an

unusual degree of heat in the atmosphere, and the sky assumed that

lurid aspect which portends a thunder-storm. Just as we were

approaching the horrid temple, a growl of thunder burst overhead

and heavy drops of rain began to fall

Those who have not witnessed gales and storms in tropical regions

can form but