The Coxswain's Bride by Robert Michael Ballantyne (top 20 books to read .TXT) 📕

will you?"

"Not long. Anyhow, we'll be sure to turn up for dinner."

During their short residence on the island, the coxswain had observed that albatrosses paid them frequent visits. The giant birds had exhibited some signs of curiosity as to the doings of the new arrivals on the island; so he resolved to capture one of them, with a view to soup!

Embarking in the boat, he rowed towards a point of rocks jutting out into the sea, over which albatrosses had been seen hovering many times. On the way, Nellie, who had previously been taught what to do, fastened a small bit of wood to the end of the line she had spun. Hanging from this was a hook that the coxswain had made from a gull's breast-bone. It was baited with a piece of pork. Before arriving at the point of rocks, they saw that an albatross was soaring over it on its mighty outspread wings. On observing the boat, it flew away and disappeared in the distance; but Bob was not much concerned about that.

"Now, Nell," he said, on landing, "carry this bait out to sea as far as the line will let you, lay it on the water, an' then pull back into yon cove, and see that you hide the boat an' yourselves well, and keep quiet. You mustn't even talk, Peggy! Yon fellow will soon be back."

Nellie did exactly as she was directed; and then her husband, holding the shore-end of the line, concealed himself among the rocks.

He was right about the bird. Ere long, it was seen returning, and soon, on motionless, expanded wings, it hovered over the rocky point. Then it caught sight of the floating bait. With a majestic swoop, it dived, caught it up, and next moment was flouncing wildly about, hooked by the tongue, while Bob Massey hauled in the line. He had provided himself with a stick, and when the huge bird came within reach he felled it, to the immense delight of the watchers in the cove, who had already begun to smell savoury soup by anticipation!

While these were thus engaged, the sealing party was even more successful in the opposite direction. They had not gone half-a-dozen miles when they sighted a group of seals, sleeping--or sunning themselves--on a flat rock, near high-water mark.

"Now, then, Hercules, lead the way with your club," said the doctor to Joe Slag, in a whisper. Joe at once shouldered his weapon and led the party round by some sheltering rocks, so as to get between the seals and the sea; then, rushing forward in a body, they took the creatures by surprise, and intercepted two of them. On coming to close quarters, however, they found that the seals were much more formidable to look at than anything that any of them had ever seen in the Arctic Seas; and when Joe brought his club down on the skull of the foremost with a terrible thwack, it refused to tumble over, but continued to splutter and flounder towards the sea. Dr Hayward, however, used his spear at this moment with such effect that the seal fell, and another blow from the Herculean club finished its career.

As this animal was about half-a-ton in weight, they left it on the beach with the intention of cutting off some steaks on their return, and sending the boat round afterwards to fetch the remainder of the carcass.

Considerably elated by their success, they pushed on. In a valley which led towards the interior hills they found fresh tracks of goats, and saw one of those animals in the distance. Rabbits were also seen, but none killed at that time. They had not gone far into this valley, when a most interesting discovery was made. On opening up a new turn in the valley they came on the ruins of a hut.

With feelings of profound interest, they entered--for there was no door to bar their progress--and gazed around on the silent, mouldering walls.

"Good luck!" exclaimed O'Connor, springing forward, and grasping an object which lay on the ground. It was a hatchet, covered with red rust. "Here is something else that will be useful," said Tomlin, picking up a file, which was also covered with rust.

The party at once began an eager search in the hope of finding other things that might be of use to them, and they were not altogether disappointed; for Jarring found a clasp-knife--much rust-eaten, of course, but still fit for use. Slag found a much-battered frying-pan, and Tomlin discovered a large cast-iron pot behind the hut, with a chip out of its rim. A bottle was also found, and the party crowded round to watch while the doctor examined it.

"Gin, I hope," said Jarring, in a low tone.

"Physic, I think," murmured Slag.

"A paper!" exclaimed the doctor, holding it up to the light; then, breaking the bottle, he unfolded the paper, but much of the writing on it had been obliterated by water which had leaked in. The few sentences, however, that were more or less legible, conveyed the fact that a vessel had been wrecked on the island in 1848; that the crew had lived there eighteen months when a ship, chancing to pass that way, rescued them; that they had no provisions to leave for the use of unfortunates who might chance to be cast away there in future; and that there was a garden, with some vegetables in it, about--

Here the writing became quite illegible.

"Now, we must find that garden," said the doctor, "and as we've not much daylight left, we must begin at once. Come along, lads."

In half an hour they found the garden, with potatoes growing in it, and a few other roots that were new to them.

Rejoicing over their discoveries the party started back without delay for the camp, carrying the pot, the frying-pan, etcetera, along with them, and not forgetting a good slice of the seal in passing. Arriving late that night, they found Bob Massey and the women already enjoying a supper of albatross soup.

"Hooroo, Bob!" exclaimed O'Connor, flourishing the frying-pan in his excitement, "we've found some praties, boy! Shovel out some o' that into this, honey, an' I'll soon let ye smell the smell of an Irish stew!"

Next day the party removed from the camp and took up their abode in the old hut, which was soon repaired sufficiently to keep out wind and rain, and the skin of the seal--with that of another killed next day--was large enough to screen off part of the hut as a separate chamber for the women.

From that time forward they had no lack of food, for they succeeded in killing plenty of seals, and in snaring a great many rabbits, though they failed entirely to kill any of the goats. And thus they lived for several months in comparative comfort, though suffering considerably from cold and bad weather.

During all that time the poor women were kept pretty busy cooking, looking after domestic matters, and mending the garments of the men. This last they accomplished by means of needles made from albatross bones and the finely divided sinews of various animals, instead of thread. When the European garments were worn out--which they were, long before deliverance was sent to them--Nell Massey proved her fitness for a Robinson Crusoe life, by actually splitting the sealskins--which were as thick as sole leather--so as to obtain material thin enough for clothing.

Of course, a flagstaff had been among the first things erected. It stood on a prominent hill, and a seal-skin flag was hoisted thereon, to attract any vessel that might chance to pass that way, but the flag fluttered in vain, for, as we have said, the island lay far out of the usual track of commerce.

Although poor Mrs Mitford appeared to become resigned to her great loss as time passed by, it was evident to her kind-hearted female companions that she was not recovering from the shock she had received. In spite of their care of her she grew thinner and older-looking every day, and although she quietly took her share of the work, she had become sad and silent--caring little apparently for what was going on around her, and never indulging in those prolonged observations of an irrelevant nature, to which she had been addicted before her husband's disappearance.

Things were in this state when, about two months after their landing, a boat-voyage to the western cliffs of the island was arranged for purposes of further exploration.


STORY ONE, CHAPTER 11.

Within the dark recesses of a great cavern in the western cliffs, in the midst of a mass of wreckage, there sat one morning a man whose general appearance might have suggested to a beholder "the wild man of the cave"--or, at the least, an unhappy maniac--for his grey locks were long and unkempt, his eyes bloodshot and wild, his garments torn, so that his wasted limbs were exposed in numerous places, and his beard and moustache dishevelled and bristling.

No one looking at that gaunt creature--not even the mother who bore him--would have easily recognised John Mitford; yet it was he.

On the day when he mysteriously disappeared he had come upon a great hollow, or hole, of about sixty yards in diameter, which appeared to descend into the very depths of the earth. The sides of the hollow sloped towards the centre, and were covered with bushes. Noting this, our romantic friend resolved to explore the spot. He descended cautiously till he came to a place where the hole had narrowed to about twenty feet in diameter, and the herbage ceased because of the absence of the earth to sustain it. Filled with eager curiosity, the reckless man held on to a branch and stretched his head over the edge of the hole. He saw nothing but blackness. He soon felt something, however, for the branch suddenly broke off, and John went headlong down into that hole!

Then and there he would certainly have paid for his curiosity with his life, had not a mass of earth, a few feet further down, and against which he struck, broken his fall in some measure, and shunted him off to the opposite wall of the rock. This latter proved to be a slope so steep that it let him slide, like lightning, to the bottom, a depth of about thirty feet or more, where he was stopped with such violence that he lay stunned for a considerable time.

Recovering, he found that no bones were broken, and that, indeed, he was not much damaged considering the violence of the fall; but the satisfaction and thankfulness that this undoubtedly caused him were diminished by the fact that he was in total darkness, and at the bottom of a hole of unknown depth. A feeling of horror rushed over him at the thought of being thus, as it were, buried alive. Springing up, he felt all round the walls of his prison for some inequalities or projections, by which he might climb out, but none such could he find. The place was like a well of not more than about ten feet wide, with smooth rocky sides, which were almost perpendicular as far up as he could reach. On looking upward, he could see the mouth of the hole, through which he had fallen, glimmering like a little star above him.