Little did I think, scarcely six months before, when seated at a desk in my father’s counting-house, that I should ever see Cape Horn; yet there it rose on our starboard beam, dark, solitary, and majestic, high above the ocean, which rolled in vast undulations at its base.
Onward we glided, with the ship’s head to the westward and the wind aft, under all sail; now rising to the summit of a glass-like billow, now sinking deep down into the valley to climb up the watery steep on the opposite side. We had touched at Rio, to obtain a supply of wood and water and fresh provisions; but I need not give a description of that magnificent harbour, as nothing very particular occurred there.
“That’s a fine sight!” I exclaimed, as I watched the mighty headland, which gradually faded from view over our starboard quarter.
“You’ll see a good many other fine sights,” observed Peter Mudge, who was somewhat matter-of-fact. “For my part, I have been glad to see the last of it each time I have come round this way, and to get safe into the Pacific; for twice I have been driven back, and have been kept knocking about among the icebergs, with the wind sharp enough to cut our noses off, for six blessed weeks or more. I only hope that is not to be our lot this time.”
“I hope not,” I answered. “I was expecting to be in smooth water, with a sunny sky overhead, before many days are over.”
“So we may, youngster; then we’ll hope for the best,” said Mudge. “Still, when a fellow has met with as many ups and downs as I have, he learns not to fancy himself safe in harbour till he has got there.”
This time, however, Mudge, and we his shipmates, were not doomed to disappointment, and were, ere long, floating on the waters of the Pacific. We ran to the northward with a flowing sheet, keeping much closer in with the coast than, I believe, is usual, till we reached the 46th degree of south latitude. It then fell a dead calm. We had just before caught sight of a sail away to the eastward, beyond which, some forty or fifty miles off, rose the lofty peaks of the Cordilleras, covered with eternal snows; or I should say, perhaps, the southern end of that mighty chain which rises abruptly from the Isthmus of Panama, and extends the whole length of the continent.
For the entire day we lay rolling our masts from side to side, till it almost seemed as if they would be shaken out of the ship. The commander wished to speak the stranger, on the chance of her being lately from England, and able to give us fresher intelligence than we possessed. He had ordered a boat to be got ready to be sent away, when, on looking at the barometer, he found that it was falling, while a bank of clouds was seen to be rising to the north-west.
“Hold fast with the boat,” he said; “before she can return, we may have a gale down upon us.”
We had not long to wait for it; and in half an hour or so we were dashing through the water under close-reefed topsails, heeling over with the wind from the north-west till the water came rushing in through the lee ports. The master, who had been on the coast before, recommended that, in order not to lose ground, we should run for the Gulf of Penas; where we could find shelter under the lee of an island, or get into one of the snug ports of the mainland. The ship’s head was accordingly kept to the eastward. The sail we had seen was also standing in the same direction, probably with the same object in view. We guessed, therefore, that she was also bound to the northward, and wished to avoid being driven back. Mudge expressed his satisfaction that we had not stood away on the other tack.
“If we had, we should have run a chance of being blown back again round the Cape into the Atlantic,” he observed. “Not every captain, however, would venture to stand in for the land as we are doing; we must keep our eyes open and the lead going, or we may chance to run the ship on shore. But as yonder vessel probably knows her way, we shall have her as a guide, and may hope to find shelter without difficulty.”
We quickly overhauled the stranger, which proved to be a barque; and from her appearance, as we caught sight of her hull, there was no doubt that she was a South Sea whaler, and that, consequently, she was likely to be well acquainted with the coast. As we stood on, we caught sight of an extensive chain of islands, stretching out from the mainland on our larboard bow. Gradually they appeared more and more abeam, while ahead rose up several lofty and rugged peaks. The stranger still kept the lead; and following her, we at length found ourselves in an extensive bay, completely sheltered from the gale blowing without. Being now in perfectly smooth water, and the commander considering it not prudent to run farther in, we furled sails, and brought up some distance ahead of the whaler, which had just before come to an anchor.
The spot where we found ourselves was about the wildest I had ever seen: dark rocks rose out of the sea fringing the shore, and rugged mountains towered up to the sky in all directions; while not a sign of human life was visible. As we swept the coast with our glasses, we discovered, almost abreast of the ship, a deep indentation which looked like the mouth of a gulf or estuary. This we naturally felt anxious to explore, and we hoped to have leave to do so the next day.
Soon after we had furled sails, the commander directed Peter Mudge to take the jolly-boat and board the whaler, with a message to the master requesting any newspapers of a late date which he might possess. “Yes, you may go, Rayner,” he said to me. “And, Mr. Mudge, take him a leg of mutton my steward will put into the boat, and some oranges we brought from Rio.” We had killed a sheep the previous day.
We were soon on board the whaler. The master, a middle-aged, grave-looking man, in a long-tailed coat and broad-brimmed hat, not much like a sailor in outward appearance, received us very civilly, and was grateful for the present, as his wife, he said, was in delicate health, and to her it would be especially welcome. He invited us into the cabin where she was seated. She was a nice, pleasant-looking woman, though it struck me that her countenance bore a peculiarly melancholy expression. He at once handed us a bundle of English papers, published long after we had left home, and which were very welcome.
“You’ll stop and take supper with us, gentlemen. I hope,” he said; “it will be on the table immediately. I don’t know, however, that I can offer you better fare than you’ll get on board your own ship.”
Mudge assured him that he did not care about that, and was happy to accept his invitation.
While we remained in the cabin, our men were entertained by the crew.
We had just taken our seats, when the door of a side cabin opened, and a young lady stepped out, looking more like a fairy, or an angel, or some celestial being, than a mortal damsel. So I thought at the time. Mudge and I rose and bowed; she returned our salutation with a smile and a slight bend of her neck. The master did not introduce us, nor did he say anything to let us know who she was. I, of course, thought that she was the captain’s daughter; but she did not address Mrs. Hudson as mother, and from some remarks she made I doubted whether such was the case. She at once entered into conversation without the slightest bashfulness; and it struck me that she was exerting herself, not so much to entertain us, as to keep up Mrs. Hudson’s spirits.
The meal did not occupy much time, so that we had but little opportunity of talking. I thought the young lady’s voice very sweet and melodious; indeed, she seemed to me the most perfect being I had ever seen. But then, it must be remembered, I was but a midshipman, and my experience was not very extensive; and the best part of a year had passed since we left England.
At last, however, Mudge, pulling out his watch, observed that it was time to be on board again; so getting up, he wished Mrs. Hudson and the young lady good-bye in his hearty way, and I was compelled to follow his example. Tears came into Mrs. Hudson’s eyes as she took me by the hand and murmured, “May Heaven preserve you from the dangers of the sea!” The young lady smiled very sweetly, and I could not help wishing that I might have the opportunity of paying another visit to the Hopewell.
The first mate had accompanied me on deck, where I found the master talking to Mudge. I therefore went a little way along the deck to summon our boat’s crew, who were with the men forward.
“Mrs. Hudson appears to be very melancholy,” I observed to my companion.
“She has reason to be so, poor lady,” said the mate. “She has never got over the loss of her only child, in these seas, some years ago. It was a sad affair, for he was a fine brave little chap, the pet of all hands. The master’s, and my boat, and the second mate’s, had gone off in chase of whales, when another fish was seen spouting in an opposite direction. The third mate’s boat was lowered, when the little fellow, whose mother was ill below, asked to be taken. The third mate, instead of refusing, thoughtlessly consented to let him go; and before the boatswain or any one else who had sense in his head saw what he was doing, he had carried him down into the boat; no one on deck, indeed, knew he had gone. Away pulled the boat, when the look-out at the mast-head shouted that one of our boats had struck a fish, and the boatswain accordingly made sail towards her. The whale, however, darted away, towing the boats for a league or more farther off, and we then had a hard matter to kill it. It had long been dark before we got alongside, by which time the weather had changed, and the wind was blowing very strong, while a nasty sea had got up.
“I shall never forget the state poor Mrs. Hudson was in when she could not discover what had become of her child; while her husband was almost as bad. At last one of the boys, who had before been afraid to speak, acknowledged that he saw little Harry in the arms of the third mate just before the boat shoved off, but that he, being called below at that moment, could not tell what had become of the child. We at once cut adrift the fish we had secured, and made sail in the direction the boat was supposed to have gone, placing lanterns in the rigging and firing guns to show our whereabouts. The weather, however, had been growing worse and worse, and with the heavy sea there was running, the boat herself, we knew, would be in no slight peril.
“All night long we continued cruising over the ground; but not a sign of the boat could we discover. When morning came, we continued our search, with the same want of success. Towards noon the weather again moderated; but though fish were seen spouting, the master would not send the boats after them; and unwilling as we were to lose them, none of us had the heart to press him to do so.
“For the best part of a week we stood backwards and forwards in all directions looking for the boat; till at last the men began to grumble, and I felt it my duty to urge the master to carry out the object of the voyage. Almost broken-hearted, he consented to do so. Slowly his poor wife recovered; and from that day to this they have never found any trace of their lost child. Probably the third mate had got hold of a fish; and he having but little experience, his boat must have been knocked to pieces, or else dragged down by the line becoming foul before it could be cut.”
“A very sad history,” I remarked; “and I am not surprised at poor Mrs. Hudson’s melancholy. But who is the young lady?” I asked.
“That is more than I can tell you,” he answered. “She came on board the evening before we sailed, but not one of us had ever heard of her till then, and neither the master nor Mrs. Hudson thought fit to enlighten us on the subject; while she herself, though ready enough to talk to me at the dinner-table, seldom says anything to any of us on deck.”
“How very romantic!” I could not help exclaiming, more interested than ever in the young lady.
Wishing Captain Hudson good-bye, we shoved off, and as we pulled away we saw the young lady standing on the poop watching us. I pulled off my cap, and she waved her handkerchief in return.
The account we gave of her and the master’s wife excited much interest on board.
The next morning, as the gale continued, a party was made up to visit the shore. It consisted of the second lieutenant and master, Peter Mudge, Tommy Peck, and I. We pulled in for the opening we had seen, and which I found to be much farther off than I had supposed—the height of the rocks at the entrance, which rose sheer out of the water, making the land appear quite close to us. At length we entered a narrow passage with high rocks on both sides for some distance, completely bare of trees; indeed, there was not a spot in which the roots could have fixed themselves. Gradually, however, the passage opened out, and we found ourselves in a large basin, the shore of which was covered with the richest vegetation, extending far up the sides of the mountains rising around us. Dark rocks peeped out from amid the trees which grew on the mountain-sides till lost to view, while above them were seen towering peaks covered with glittering snow. The master sounded as we went in, and found the depth of water sufficient for the largest ship. Here she might remain at anchor or moored to the trees, while the fiercest gale was blowing outside, as securely as in an artificial dock.
We pulled round one side of the basin, but could find no opening by which, should we step on shore, we could make our way up the mountain. We did, indeed, land at two or three places, but it was impossible to get beyond a few yards from the water’s edge. Probably, no human being had ever before set foot in that wooded region. Not even the chirp of a bird was heard, nor was any sign of life visible—silence and solitude reigned around. The whole surface of the ground was one mass of rotten timber, covered with various descriptions of moss and ferns. The trunks of trees which had fallen either from age and decay, or from being blown down by the wind, lay about in all directions; another generation having grown up to share the same fate, and to be succeeded by others still proudly rearing their heads green and flourishing.
“Come, it won’t do to be balked!” exclaimed the master. “We’ll make our way somehow or other through the forest;” and the boat was run with her bow against the yielding bank. “You’ll follow me!” As he said this he sprang on shore, or rather on to the trunk of a tree. “All right—come along,” he exclaimed; “do as I do.” The next instant, however, over he went on his nose, and disappeared.
We followed, and found his legs sticking up, while his head and shoulders were three or four feet deep in damp wood and moss. We managed to haul him out, covered from head to foot with wet moss; his blue suit turned into one of green, fitted for the woodland region in which he was so anxious to roam. Undaunted, however, he made his way onwards, now climbing over a somewhat firm trunk; only, however, the next instant to sink up to his middle in the moss and decayed wood. Tommy followed, but was very nearly smothered, and not without difficulty we hauled him out; then the master, finding himself alone, came back grumbling at our cowardice, as he called it.
We now all embarked, and pulled along the shore in the hope of finding a more practicable way up the mountain. As we got to the head of the basin, we discovered a stream flowing into it; up this we pulled for some distance—the bank on either side being covered with vegetation—till we reached a rocky ledge on one side, over which the water had apparently at one time flowed. A low waterfall a slight distance ahead showed that further progress was impracticable. We accordingly landed on the ledge, and once more attempted to make our way up the mountain. We had much the same sort of ground to go over as that on which the master had made his first essay; but as the belt of forest which separated us from the steep side of the mountain was much narrower than in the former place, we persevered, and soon found that we were ascending.
Up and up we went, helping ourselves along by the roots and branches of the trees, the more stunted growth of which at length showed the height we had reached. We now emerged from the forest, when the ground above us appeared covered with spongy moss, the walking over which we found comparatively easy, saturated though it was with snow-water, which fell in every direction in tiny cascades over the side of the mountain. Even the grass and moss were at length left behind, and we found ourselves treading on half-melted snow, which, as we ascended, became more crisp and solid—the bright glare, as the sun fell on it, proving very trying to our eyes after the gloom of the forest. Still, on we went for some distance, the ground being almost level; then we ascended, and, passing over the ridge, descended once more into a shallow valley, on the other side of which the mountain rose at a moderate inclination, which, it appeared to us, we could mount without any impediment till we reached the summit. Thence we expected to obtain a magnificent prospect over the sea on one side, and the country towards the interior on the other.
We did get up it somehow or other, panting and exhausted, with our heads aching and our eyes dizzy, to encounter a fierce snow-storm which shut out all objects from view. To remain here longer might prove our destruction; we soon, therefore, began our descent. But the traces of our upward path were obliterated, and after descending a short distance we discovered that we had lost our way. I had gone some little distance ahead of the rest of the party, when I saw before me a gentle slope of snow, by sliding down which I fancied that I should quickly arrive at the bottom; so, calling to my companions, I began slipping gently downwards.
“It’s very pleasant and easy,” I shouted out—“come along;” and on I went.
I had gone some hundred yards, when, the atmosphere clearing, I saw rising before me a perpendicular cliff, which I knew was the opposite side of a deep chasm. Unless I could stop myself, I should be dashed to pieces. I thereupon dug my arms and legs into the snow; but still on I went. I now heard a shout, and looking up I saw Tommy laughing merrily as he descended, totally unaware of the fearful peril he was in. I cried out to him to stop himself if he could; but he did not understand what I said. On I went; not a tree nor a rock appeared to which I could cling. The precipice could not have been fifty yards before me, when, making another desperate effort, I got my feet through the snow and fixed against a rock in the ground. Still Tommy came on, with the rest of the party some way above him. Just as he shot by me, I seized him by the leg and brought him up. “Why did you do that?” he cried out, even then not knowing how close he was to the edge of the precipice. When he saw it, he joined his shouts with mine; and then pointing to the left, where I observed that the inclination was less steep, we directed the party towards it. Scrambling along on our knees and hands, we joined them; and now, moving with the greatest care, fearing every instant to be sent sliding down to our right, we at length reached a ledge by which we made our way into the valley.
The danger was now past, but we had to undergo immense fatigue before we got back to the boat.
We had intended calling on board the whaler, to pay another visit to Captain Hudson, but the lateness of the hour compelled our return to the ship. I was much disappointed, as I hoped to see the young lady by whose appearance I had been so much struck the previous day; but I consoled myself with the expectation of being able to go on board the next morning.
During the night, however, the gale completely ceased; and when I came on deck I saw the whaler under all sail standing out of the harbour, with the wind off the land. We followed, but did not again get near enough to communicate with her. We stood some distance off the coast, and then continued our course to the northward.
Very frequently, afterwards, did the image of that fair young girl recur to my memory, though she did not appear to have made so much impression on Peter Mudge; but he sometimes spoke of the captain’s wife, and seemed to sympathise with her on the loss of her child, though it had happened so long ago.
The peaks of the Cordilleras again came in sight, at a distance of a hundred and fifty miles, long before the shore at the base of the mighty range was visible—one of them, Aconcagua, rising to an elevation of upwards of 23,000 feet above the ocean. We touched at Valparaiso; which might, we agreed, possibly be a paradise for fleas, but certainly not for human beings of good taste. The climate is fine—of that I have no doubt—but the surrounding country is sterile and monotonous, the vegetation just then on the hills consisting of half-withered cacti, though in the valleys and the plains to the left of the town we saw groves of fruit trees and flowering shrubs. I can best describe the place by saying that it is divided by two deep ravines into three hills, sprinkled over with whitewashed houses; the hills are called fore-top, main-top, and mizen-top.
Sailing from thence, during my watch one morning I heard a cry of “Land ahead!” I looked out, but nothing like land could I see.
“We shall get sight of it before long from the deck,” observed Mudge, “if we keep our eyes open.”
The ship, as she glided onward, rose and sank with the swell of the ocean; and presently, as she rose, I caught sight of what appeared to be a fleet of vessels at anchor. The next instant they had disappeared; but as she rose on the next swell I again caught sight of the seeming masts, which I gradually discovered to be tall cocoa-nut palms or pandanus trees. On approaching nearer, the whole white beach was distinctly seen; and above it a narrow belt of land of a light clay colour, surrounding a perfectly smooth lagoon of a beautiful blue tint; while against the outer belt the surf was breaking with terrific force. The highest part of the land appeared to be about ten or twelve feet above the level of the sea; and we calculated that the belt between the sea and the lagoon was about seven hundred feet wide, the soil being composed of coral débris and vegetable matter. Besides the palm-trees, there were a few shrubs not more than fourteen or fifteen feet in height. The whole island was about eight miles long, and from one and a half to two miles wide.
We sounded as we approached, but could obtain no bottom; and it was not till we got quite close that the lead gave us ninety fathoms, and farther on seventy, thus proving that the land was the top of a submerged mountain. Such, indeed, are all the islands of this group. Once upon a time in the world’s history, a mountainous region existed on the spot over which we were sailing, which gradually sank till the ocean flowed over all the highest portions. The coral insects finding it a convenient situation on which to build, the temperature of the water suiting their constitution, commenced operations, and formed an encircling reef round the shore. These creatures can only live at a certain depth beneath the surface; thus, as the land continued to sink, the first builders died, while others continued to work above their habitations. Still the land sank, and the coral insects worked on, building higher and higher till the summit of the mountain was not only covered, but was many fathoms deep below the surface. This, however, did not prevent the persevering creatures from continuing their operations; till at length a time came when the subsidence of the land ceased. The breakers then washed up portions of the coral on to the summit of the reef, which by degrees crumbled away from the action of the atmosphere. Sea-birds made it their home, and deposited the seeds of various plants, while the ocean washed up other seeds still containing germinating powers. Thus vegetation commenced; and the trees and shrubs decaying, more vegetable mould was formed to support the existence of a further succession of trees and shrubs.
I give this information here, though I did not obtain it till long afterwards; indeed, I believe that no one at the time understood how the island was formed. I asked Mudge, who told me that it was placed there by Nature, as other parts of the earth had been formed, to give a pleasing variety to the face of the globe.
“It will afford us anything but a pleasing variety, if we have to sail through a sea studded with such islands as these,” I could not help observing; “for if we don’t keep our eyes open, we shall be running on them.”
“You may well say that, my boy,” he answered. “And as they extend for the best part of two thousand miles across the Pacific, we shall be lucky if our keel escapes acquaintance with some of them, should the commander take it into his head to cruise through their midst.”
The ship having reached the lee side of the island, a boat was lowered, and Mudge and I accompanied the first lieutenant to try and open a communication with the inhabitants—carrying with us some trifles, such as beads, small looking-glasses, and other trinkets, furnished us at home to barter with the natives or to use as presents in order to gain their good-will. As we pulled in, a number of them appeared on the beach armed with long spears and clubs, which they brandished with menacing attitudes, as if they would prevent us from landing. We had taken Dicky Popo with us, under the belief that, seeing a person of a darker skin than ours among us, they might be inclined to trust us; not that it was supposed he could understand their language.
As they still continued waving us off, the lieutenant held up a string of beads and some other articles. Then, not wishing to risk the safety of the boat by running her on the coral beach—on which the surf, beating heavily, might soon have stove in her bows—we pulled in as close as we could venture, and he threw the articles on shore. The savages eagerly picked them up; but still they did not appear satisfied as to our friendly intentions, and continued waving us off, shouting, at the same time, at the top of their voices. As they did not throw their spears, however, or make any other hostile movements, we remained at a short distance from the beach, hoping that the presents we had given them would produce a more amiable state of mind. Still, though we did all we could to win their confidence, whenever we got a little nearer they again began gesticulating, showing that they had no intention to let us land if they could help it.
Besides the men on the beach, we saw a group of people at some distance, who seemed to be watching our proceedings with great interest, and apparently holding back one of their number who was making efforts to break away from them. In colour and costume, or rather in the want of it, he differed but little from the rest; and we therefore concluded that he was insane, or that from some other cause his companions objected to his coming near us. As the commander had given orders that we should on no account force a landing, our lieutenant, believing that we should be unable to accomplish our object, put the boat round; and we were pulling off, when the man we had seen escaped from those who held him, and, dodging round the others, sprang into the water, and with rapid strokes swam off towards us, in spite of several spears hurled at him. Mr. Worthy instantly pulled back to take him in.
“Glad get among you,” he exclaimed, greatly to our surprise, in tolerable English, as he climbed over the side.
“Why, my friend, who are you?” asked Mr. Worthy.
“I Kanaka,” he answered; by which we knew that he was a Sandwich Islander.
As we returned to the ship, he explained that he had belonged to a vessel caught in a gale off the island; when, having been washed overboard from the bowsprit, and no attempt being made to pick him up, he had remained afloat all night, and succeeded the next morning, in a way that only a Sandwich Islander could have accomplished, in reaching the island. Happily the inhabitants did not see him till he had recovered his strength. He then went boldly among them; and as he was able to make himself understood, he had, by the way he addressed them, gained their confidence, though he believed that they would otherwise immediately have put him to death. His knowledge being superior to theirs, he was looked upon with much respect; and as he had already taught them many things they did not before know, the people wished to retain him among them.
“Dey stupid savages,” he observed with a look of contempt; though, except that he could speak a little English, we were not inclined to consider him much raised above them in the scale of civilisation.
The lieutenant then inquired the character of the vessel from which he had been washed overboard. The Kanaka, shaking his head and throwing an expression of disgust into his countenance, answered, “No good;” and on further examining him, Mr. Worthy came to the conclusion that she was either a pirate, or a craft engaged in carrying off the inhabitants to work in the mines of Peru—the rumour having reached us at Valparaiso that some vessels had been fitted out for that purpose. He had for some time been serving on board a whaler, where he had learned English; and having deserted at a port in Peru, had joined this craft in the hope of getting back to his own island, whither he had understood she was bound.
His name, he told us, was Tamaku. He and Dicky Popo soon became great friends, and both made themselves very useful on board. It was singular that they should have joined us much in the same way. Tamaku was likely to prove of service in acting as interpreter with the natives of Polynesia; for the language of the Sandwich group differs but slightly from the dialects of the other brown-skinned races inhabiting the numerous archipelagoes which dot its surface. The Sandwich Islanders can thus generally make themselves understood wherever they go.
Tamaku being a merry, obliging fellow, became a favourite with the crew, and we hoped that we should be able to retain him on board even after our visit to the Sandwich Islands, to which we were now bound.
We were glad enough to get clear of the Low Archipelago, for it is a serious matter to be caught in a gale amid its countless coral reefs, many of which are not to be seen until the ship is close upon them; and even in fine weather the greatest vigilance is required to avoid them. We had a look-out at each fore-topsail-yardarm, at the fore-topmast-head, and often at the bowsprit end, as the submerged reefs can in calm weather be distinguished only by the darker colour of the water. Even when we were clear of these, we had still to keep a look-out for other islands in our course; as well as for the craft which Tamaku had described to us, or for her consorts, which the commander was very anxious to catch.
As we were soon afterwards running on with a flowing sheet during the night, the stars being obscured by clouds, and the wind pretty strong, “Land! land on the starboard bow!” was shouted from forward. “Land ahead!” was the next startling cry. What dangerous reef might run off it was not known. “Starboard the helm!” shouted the officer of the watch; “brace the yards sharp up!”
“All hands on deck!” was the next cry; for the ship was heeling over so much to the gale that it became necessary to shorten sail without delay. As it was, the risk of carrying away the yards, if not the masts, was very great. While the hands were hauling aft the sheets, a loud clap was heard. The main-tack had given way, and the clew of the sail was flapping furiously in the wind, threatening with death all within its reach.
At the instant it gave way a sharp cry reached my ears. Immediately afterwards a voice from the poop shouted, “Man overboard!” But, alas! whoever he was, no assistance could be rendered him. Destruction awaited the ship should she not weather the land ahead. One of my messmates who was on the poop—Tommy Peck by name—acting upon the impulse of the moment, cut the lanyard of the life-buoy, which fell into the seething ocean; though he either forgot to pull that which would have ignited the port-fire, or the port-fire itself was damaged, as no light was seen as it fell into the water.
Some minutes of anxious suspense followed, during which the ship was ploughing her way through the dark seas which, rolling onward, burst into masses of foam on the rocky shore to leeward.
At length the open ocean could be seen beyond the point which gradually appeared over our starboard quarter; but the commander dared not yet keep the ship away, not knowing how far the reef extending from it might reach. In the meantime the tack had been secured, and two reefs taken in the topsail. Even as it was, however, the ship, slashing through the foaming seas, could scarcely look up to the gale, and I every moment expected to see her go right over. The water was rushing through her ports, and rose half-way up the deck to the combings of the hatchway. With infinite relief, therefore, I heard the order given to port the helm and square the yards; and once more we flew on before the wind, leaving the dark land astern. It seemed as if there had come a sudden lull, so easily did she now speed on her way over the ocean.
All were eager to know who had been lost, and the muster-roll was called. One after another the men answered to their names, till that of Dicky Popo was shouted out. No Dicky answered, and it became certain that he was the unfortunate individual lost. Tamaku expressed his grief with a loud wail. “O Popo! Popo! why you go overboard?” he cried out. “You not swim like Kanaka, or you get to shore. But now I know you at de bottom of de sea.”
It was sad, indeed, to think that the poor lad had gone overboard at a moment when it was utterly impossible to render him any assistance. Under other circumstances he might easily have been saved, as the sea, though rough, was not sufficiently so to prevent a boat being lowered. Now, however, we could not go back to look for him; indeed, as Tamaku said, he must long before this have perished.
We after this sighted the Marquesas, to which the French have laid claim, though they have made no attempt to colonise these beautiful and fertile islands.
The Sandwich Islands were at length reached, and we brought up off Honolulu, in the island of Oahu. We were more struck with the beauty of the scenery than with that of the female portion of the inhabitants; but as the islands have been so often described, I will not attempt to do so; merely remarking that they are eleven in number, some of them about a hundred miles in circumference. Hawaii, formerly known as Owhyhee, is very much the largest, being eighty-eight miles in length by sixty-eight in breadth; and it contains two lofty mountains, each upwards of thirteen thousand feet in height—one called Mauna Kea, and the other Mauna Loa, which latter is for ever sending forth its volcanic fires, while it casts its vast shadow far and wide over the ocean.
After leaving Honolulu, which in those days was a very different place to what it is now, we brought up in the Bay of Kealakeakua, celebrated as the place where Captain Cook lost his life. As we entered the bay we could see in the far distance the towering dome of Mauna Loa. The whole country round bore evidence of the volcanic nature of the soil; broken cliffs rose round the bay, on the north side of which a reef of rocks offers the most convenient landing-place. It was here that Captain Cook was killed, while endeavouring to reach his boat. A few yards from the water stands a cocoa-nut tree, at the foot of which he is said to have breathed his last. The Imogene carried away the top of the tree; and her captain had a copper plate fastened on to the stem, the lower part of which has been thickly tarred to preserve it. On the plate is a cross, with an inscription—“Near this spot fell Captain James Cook, the renowned circumnavigator, who discovered these islands, A.D. 1778.”
Tamaku having been allowed to remain on shore during the time we were here, came off again of his own free will, and expressed his readiness to continue on board.
We again sailed to the southward. The commander had been directed to visit the archipelagoes on the western side of the Pacific, but he wished first to make a survey of the island on which we had so nearly run during the gale on our course northward.
I have, by-the-by, said very little about my messmates, except Mr. Worthy, Peter Mudge (who acted as my Mentor, as he was likewise that of all the youngsters), and my chum Tommy Peck. There was another mate, who had lately passed—Alfred Stanford, a very gentlemanly, pleasing young man. We had, besides, a surgeon, a master’s assistant, the captain’s clerk and the purser’s clerk, who made up the complement in our berth. My chief friend among the men was Dick Tillard, an old quartermaster, to whom I could always go to get instruction in seamanship, with the certainty that he would do his best to enlighten me. He had been at sea all his life, and had scarcely ever spent a month on shore at a time. He was a philosopher, in his way; and his philosophy was of the best, for he had implicit confidence in God’s overruling providence. If anything went wrong, his invariable remark was—“That’s our fault, not His who rules above; trust him, lads, trust him, and he will make all things right at last.”
I have very little to say about our second lieutenant, or the master, or surgeon, or purser—who, as far as I knew, were respectable men, not above the average in intellect, and got on very well together in the gunroom; so that our ship might have been looked upon as a happy one, as things go, though I confess that we cannot expect to find a paradise on board a man-of-war.
I must not omit to mention our boatswain, a person of no small importance on board ship. So, at all events, thought Mr. Fletcher Yallop, as he desired to be called; and if we youngsters ever wanted him to do anything for us, we always thus addressed him—though, of course, the commander and officers called him simply Mr. Yallop. If the men addressed him as Mr. Yallop, he invariably exclaimed—“Mr. Fletcher Yallop is my name, remember, my lad; and I’ll beg you always to denominate me by my proper appellation, or a rope’s end and your back will scrape acquaintance with each other.”
He explained his reasons to me in confidence one day. “You see, Mr. Rayner, I expect before I die to come into a fortune, when I shall be, of course, Fletcher Yallop, Esquire. I can’t make the men call me so now, because I am but a simple boatswain; but I like the sound; it keeps up my spirits. When I get out of sorts, I repeat to myself: ‘Fletcher Yallop, Esquire, be a man; be worthy of your future position in society when you take your place among the nobility of the land, and perhaps write M.P. after your name,’—and in an instant I am myself again, and patiently bear the rubs and frowns to which even warrant-officers are subjected. In truth, though I wish you not to repeat it, Mr. Rayner, I may become a baronet; and I always look with trembling interest at the Gazette, to see if a certain person, whose heir I am, has been raised to that dignity.”
I ventured to ask the boatswain on what he grounded his hopes of fortune.