Ben Hadden Part 10

Ben put all his plans into execution in a methodical, regular way. He became, indeed, perfectly happy, and almost contented with his lot, except when he thought of his mother and Ned--poor Ned, still undiscovered, living among savages, or on a desert island, like himself.

His own fate made him hope more than ever that Ned had escaped.

Now and then the course of his plans was interrupted by something else which occurred to him to do. One idea was to erect a beacon at each end of the island, to attract the attention of those on board any pa.s.sing vessel. He had nothing of which to make a flag, so a flagstaff would have been of no use. It then struck him that a cross would be more remarkable than anything else, and he devoted a part of each day to the work. It was a very heavy task. He chose a tree towards the end of the island, where he proposed erecting the first cross. He had only a stout pocket-knife, but he could employ fire, and that only required constant watching. A large sharp stone helped him. When he had thus felled the tree, he had to cut off the branches, and to drag it to the end of the island. With great labour he partly burned, and partly cut, a deep notch, into which he fixed the cross-beam, securing it with wedges. He had observed a cleft in the rock: in this he placed the b.u.t.t-end, and gradually raised it with far more ease than he could otherwise have done. Some large stones placed round it kept it secure. The other cross was erected much in the same manner.

His fis.h.i.+ng was very successful, and he was soon able to catch an ample supply for his daily food. He found, too, some roots which were perfectly wholesome. When cultivated by the natives, they formed one of their chief articles of food. He was not disappointed in finding, after a time, some turtles' and sea-fowls' eggs; indeed, he had an abundance of nutritious food, gained, however, by his own exertions and perseverance. It might have been possible for a person to have died of starvation on the island, simply on account of not looking for the means of subsistence which it afforded. Ben not only collected for present use, but preserved what he could for the future, knowing that at certain seasons the turtle and wild-fowl would cease to lay eggs, that the fish might leave the coast, or that stormy weather might prevent his catching them; that the cocoa-nuts would dry up, as might the roots, and that the wild-fowl might become more wary. He was thus never idle, from morning till night; and though, of course, he thought very often of home and Ned, and of how he should get away, yet he never was unhappy or out of spirits. He was as fond as ever of saying, "Do right, whatever comes of it, and trust in G.o.d."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

ESCAPE: AND THE END OF BEN'S HISTORY.

Ben had recollected the day of the week on which, he was cast on the island. By means of a stick which he notched regularly, a plan he had often heard of being adopted under similar circ.u.mstances, he kept an exact note of the days as they pa.s.sed. Sunday he made a day of rest.

It was not, however, a day of weariness. He read much more than usual of his Testament, and, recollecting the way the natives had repeated portions of it, he set to work to commit some of its chapters to memory.

This he found a delightful occupation. When doing so, he spent many hours walking up and down on the smooth sea sand, with shoeless feet, looking out every now and then on the blue ocean, and thinking what a beautiful world it is we inhabit, and how grievous that man should mar it by his evil temper and wicked deeds. Then he would occasionally sing all the hymns he knew at the top of his voice, from very joyfulness of heart. In the week-days, when at work, he would repeat over what he had learned on the Sundays. Thus five months, by his calculation, pa.s.sed away.

One Monday forenoon, as he was going out to the end of a reef to fish, on looking in the direction where he had frequently seen what he supposed to be land, he saw an object moving over the water. It was not white, like the sail of a vessel. It must, then, be the mat-sail of a large double canoe. Thinking no more of his fis.h.i.+ng, he ran up to the highest rocky hill in the neighbourhood to watch its progress. It was drawing nearer the island, and yet apparently not steering directly for it, rather, as it were, to pa.s.s at some distance.

"I wonder what sort of people are on board," he thought. "Perhaps savages--cannibals. Then it will be much better if they do not come here. If they are Christian natives, then I shall be very glad to go with them, as they of course are on their way to some civilised island where s.h.i.+ps are likely to call."

The wind was light, the canoe moved slowly, and Ben's anxiety increased.

At last it seemed clear that the canoe would not come nearer to the island. He heaved a deep sigh, and sat silent and sad for some time.

Then he recollected that he was going to fish. He got up, and again worked his way towards the end of the reef. He cast in his line, and had hooked a fish, when, just as he landed it, on looking up for an instant, he saw the canoe gliding towards the island. It was steering for the point on which stood the cross, there could be no doubt about that. He watched it eagerly, anxious to ascertain who was on board. If they were savages, should he hide himself, and trust to their going away again? "Yet even if they are savages, they will not hurt me," he said to himself. "They will see at once that I cannot do them any harm. I will run and meet them, and welcome them. That will be the best way, I am sure. I will take a branch in my hand, and wave it as the natives do, to show that I wish to be friendly with them."

Saying this, Ben drew up the fish he had hooked,--a fine large one,-- retreated along the reef over the rocks, cut a branch, and ran along the beach as fast as his legs could carry him towards Cross Point. He got there before the canoe, for the wind was light. He could see a number of people on it as it drew nearer. Were they savages? They were all clothed. Yes, and some of them were dressed as English sailors. There was a glitter of gold-lace on the coat of one of them. In the bow stood a young sailor lad. Gradually the faces began to grow distinct. How his heart leaped with joy! There were Tom Martin and Mr Manners, and several of the prize crew he had long thought in their ocean graves, and there were also a good number of the natives, busy in lowering the huge mat-sail of the canoe. They were the very men who had been on board the schooner.

Ben was at first almost beside himself with delight. He waved his hands and shouted wildly; then he ran down and showed them the best place for bringing the canoe to sh.o.r.e. The natives cried out to him, but neither Tom Martin nor any of the English seamen seemed to know him. "I wonder what that little savage wants," he heard Tom say to one of the men. "He looks to me as if he was out of his senses."

"No, I am not, Tom Martin, I can a.s.sure you," cried Ben, running up to him and putting out his hand; "only very, very glad to see you again, and to find that you are all alive."

"Well, indeed, I am also glad to find you were not drowned, Ben,"

answered Tom, wringing his s.h.i.+pmate's hand till it seemed as if he would wring it off. "I felt certain that you were drowned, and was very sorry for you, that I was!"

"He speaks truth, Ben," observed Jem Stokes, a seaman who had always stood Tom's friend. "The lad took so ill when he thought that you were lost, that we thought he would have slipped his cable altogether; but Mr Manners spoke to him, as he did to all of us, and told him that if you had left this world you had gone to a better."

Jem's remarks were cut short by Mr Manners, who had now come on sh.o.r.e.

Ben was not aware, till he observed the surprised look with which his officer regarded him, of the odd figure he cut. He then recollected that he wore a suit of his own home-made clothes: a hat of leaves, in shape between an extinguisher and an umbrella; a cape of mulberry-tree cloth, and a kilt of the same, reaching down to his knees. With shoes he had learned to dispense, that he might have a good pair to go away in. He had worn them, however, on Sunday mornings, when he had put them on, with the rest of his best suit. Ben explained to Mr Manners why he was dressed in that curious fas.h.i.+on, and the young officer highly approved of his reasons, and complimented him on his ingenuity in their manufacture.

The whole party then collected round him while he gave a brief account of the way he had been preserved, and how he had managed to subsist during his sojourn on the island. He, in return, was informed how his friends had escaped. The schooner, from having no cargo in her, did not sink as soon as was expected, but drove on to another reef, where she stuck fast. The gale falling soon after, those on board had time to construct a raft, on which, with the aid of one of the boats, they reached an island which they had seen five or six miles off. They were able to save a small quant.i.ty of provisions; but the larger portion, being under water, could not be got at. The island was of considerable size, and, thanks to the knowledge possessed by the natives, they had not experienced much difficulty in procuring food. The schooner soon broke up, so that very little more was got out of her, and only a few articles of value were washed ash.o.r.e. Mr Manners at once proposed building a vessel; but the carpenter's mate, who had come in the schooner as carpenter, had been lost when the vessel went on the rocks, and none of the other men knew anything of s.h.i.+p-building. The natives, on hearing the wish of the English officer, offered to construct a large double canoe, three or four professional canoe-builders being among them. They were far more ingenious than the civilised Englishmen.

Their tools they made out of stones, and flints, and sh.e.l.ls; the fibre of trees served them instead of nails; their sails were made out of dried gra.s.s. It was a work, however, of great labour; night and day they toiled at it. At length, aided by the Englishmen, it was completed. They had preserved and stored all the food they could collect and spare for their voyage; but their great difficulty was to carry enough water. The water on the island was bad, and they had not sufficient receptacles for it. Still, they hoped to reach some island where they might replenish their stock; but that was very uncertain.

"Indeed, the possibility--or, I may say, the probability--of our running short of water is the greatest cause of anxiety I have for our dangerous voyage. If that was over, I should have fewer cares on my mind,"

observed Mr Manners.

"Then, sir, I think that I can certainly relieve you of that care,"

answered Ben. "There is a spring of excellent water in the middle of the island, and near it I planted, on the second day of my arrival, some gourd-seeds. The plants grew up very fast, and the fruit has now become of great size, and is perfectly ripe. Each of them would, I should think, when dried, hold a large quant.i.ty of water; and I am sure that the pulp is very good and wholesome, for I have felt much better since I lived on it. Besides, I have already dried a number of the outsides, so that we may judge how they hold water."

"That is indeed providential, Ben," observed Mr Manners. "G.o.d, I believe, never allows anything to be done without an object; and it seems very clear that you were thrown on this island, not only that your own life might be saved, but that you might be the means of preserving all our lives. Had it not been for you, we should not have known that there exists water on the island; and we certainly should not have had the means of carrying it away. Let us at once examine the gourds, that we may see what can be done."

Mr Manners now called Marco, and begged him to set off at once with Ben, and examine the gourds, with a few of the other natives, while the rest dispersed on the island to collect roots, cocoa-nuts, and, indeed, any other food that they could find.

Ben could not help feeling proud at the commendation which Mr Manners bestowed on his hut and its internal arrangements; still more so on his plantation of gourds. The little seeds which he had brought to sh.o.r.e in his jacket-pocket had now become large plants, producing gourds twice the size of a man's head. As he had wisely planted them at a distance from each other, they had all grown to their full size. Marco selected thirty, at least, each of which would hold several quarts of water; while their pulp was a welcome addition to the food of those who had been for so long living on the produce of the sea, and roots, and cocoa-nuts.

Three days were spent in drying the gourds and in filling them, and in replenis.h.i.+ng the other receptacles on board the canoe with the pure water from Ben's fountain. One or two defects in the canoe were also made good, and a considerable addition to their supply of provisions was taken on board.

Ben took a last look at the hut he had so long inhabited, and the garden he had cultivated with so much care, with a feeling almost of regret, knowing that he was to part from them for ever. Before leaving them, however, he planted a number of ripe seeds, and repaired his hut, in case any other person might be cast on sh.o.r.e on the island. The crosses were also repaired.

"We had not intended landing on the island till we saw them," observed Mr Manners. "When our eyes caught sight of them, we knew that some Christian person must be, or must have been, on the island; and, though eager to proceed on our voyage, we at once resolved to touch at the place. I pray that, before long, the time may come for the cross to be erected on every island throughout the wide Pacific, not as the symbol of nominal Christianity, of a religion of forms and ceremonies, but as the sign of a true and living faith, of a spiritual wors.h.i.+p acceptable to G.o.d."

The last remarks, though spoken aloud, were made by Mr Manners rather to himself than to those near him.

All preparations having been made, the whole party, with Ben Hadden, embarked on board the canoe. She was paddled out into the open sea, the wind was fair, the sail was hoisted, and Ben soon saw his island home sink beneath the horizon.

The difficulties in the navigation of the voyage just commenced were very great. Mr Manners had saved only a boat's compa.s.s; he had no quadrant and no chart. He calculated that they were about sixteen hundred miles at least from Samoa, for which group he shaped his course.

They expected to meet with several islands on the way, but though the inhabitants of some of them had been converted to Christianity, those of others were still sunk in heathen darkness and barbarism. It would be necessary for them, therefore, to be very careful on which they landed.

In the one case, they would be sure of a friendly reception; in the other they would be attacked, and probably murdered, if not on their guard. Ben hoped that at all events they might touch at several islands, that he might have more opportunities of making inquiries about Ned. He found that strict discipline was maintained on board the canoe.

All on board were divided into watches, taking regularly their turns of duty. Morning and evening there were prayers, led by Mr Manners in English and by Marco in his own language. The day was begun by all joining in a hymn, then the Scriptures were read and commented on by the respective readers. Ben was very glad to find that Tom took a great interest in their services, and spoke on religious subjects in a tone that he had never before done.

"Why, you see, Ben," said Tom, "on that awful night of the wreck I thought that we were all going to be drowned, and when, after all, we got on sh.o.r.e, I felt how merciful and kind G.o.d had been to save such a wicked fellow as I was, instead of you, who was so much more fit to go to Him. I was still very sorry for you, for your mother's sake, and I knew father would be very sorry when he heard of it. I do not suppose that those thoughts would have lasted very long; I am afraid not: but then, Mr Manners spoke to me so kindly, that I felt what an ungrateful wretch I should be if I didn't give my heart to so good and merciful a G.o.d; and from that day to this I have been trying to do so. It is not very easy, even among the few of our poor fellows remaining; but Mr Manners says that I must pray for grace, and not trust to my own strength, and that then, if I am sincere and not a hypocrite to myself, that I should have every confidence of being supported and protected.

It is that thought, Ben, which gives me so much comfort. Otherwise I should be very unhappy, and not at all sure that I should not be a castaway after all."

"That is just the same thought that has made me always happy," remarked Ben. "I know that G.o.d never casts out any who go to Him through Christ, and trust to Him completely, and not to themselves, while they try to love and serve Him as much as they can, though that is very little after all I can't tell you, though, Tom, how glad I am to hear you speak so, and I am sure that your father will be still more glad, if we ever find the s.h.i.+p again, which I hope we may do."

"That's the very thing I am afraid of," said Tom. "I shall be very glad indeed to see my father again; but when I get back among the other boys, and into old ways again, I shall be apt to do just as before, and to talk nonsense and play all my old tricks. I say, Ben, if we ever do get back, you must help me! Won't you, there's a good fellow?"

Of course Ben promised Tom that he would help him as much as he could, though he reminded him also that he must depend on himself in one sense, though not on his own strength, for that effectual strength he could alone obtain through the aid of the Holy Spirit.

The wind was light, and the sea calm, and the canoe glided smoothly over the water. She was of a curious construction, being in reality two canoes connected by a very strong platform. The mast was a triangle, which supported a mat-sail spread on a long yard. The vessel had not to go about; but, as the stem and stern were alike, she sailed equally well both ways. At each end there were long oars, which served as rudders; but in calms she was impelled by paddles, and could thus also be moved at a considerable rate. n.o.body on board was idle. In calm weather every one was employed in paddling or steering. Mr Manners took his turn with the rest. If there was a sea,--that is to say, if it was rough,--Ben and Tom, with the a.s.sistance of two or three others, had enough to do to bale out the water. A constant look-out was also necessary, to avoid any reefs or low islands in their course. Ben was very happy. He had been so long without talking, that it was a satisfaction to him once more to use his tongue, though still greater to hear other people talk, especially Mr Manners and Tom, when they spoke on subjects in which he was interested. As for his own tongue, when once set going, he found no little difficulty in again stopping it.

The weather continued so calm, that it was impossible to say to what extent the voyage might be prolonged: it was necessary, therefore, to use the greatest economy in the consumption of water and their scanty supply of provisions. A small allowance of food and water was served out to each person three times a day; but no one grumbled, for all saw the necessity of the arrangement.

Six days had pa.s.sed by since the canoe had left Ben Hadden's island, as Mr Manners called it, when land was sighted ahead, or rather, the trees which grew on it, for their tops were first seen. It was an island extending for three or four miles across the horizon. No one on board knew anything about the island, but they hoped that they might there obtain a fresh supply of water and provisions, and, should it be inhabited by Christians, that they might gain some information as to their direct course for Samoa. Accordingly they steered for an opening which appeared in the barrier-reef. On getting through it, other rocks were seen ahead, and Mr Manners was afraid, should he stand on, of injuring the canoe. The sail was lowered, and they were about to paddle off again in order to search for a safe landing-place, when a man was seen on the sh.o.r.e beckoning them. First he pointed to the right hand, by which they knew that they were to sail in that direction; then he beckoned directly to himself, afterwards to the left, and so on. By following his directions, they reached the beach in safety. He was a wild-looking person dressed in a leaf hat, something like the one Ben had made for himself, with a seaman's tattered jacket, and a kilt of native cloth. His feet and legs were bare, his hair was long, and hung down over his shoulders, while in his hand he carried a heavy club, which he grasped tightly, as if he considered it likely to prove a friend in need. Notwithstanding his wild appearance, it was easy to perceive by the colour of his skin, sunburnt as it was, that he was not a native. He seemed very much surprised at seeing white men on board the canoe, for he did not appear to have discovered that till they were on the point of landing. He did not, however, address them, but spoke to the natives in a language which they understood. Marco inquired of him whether there were other inhabitants on the island, and whether they were Christians. He said that there were a great many; that they were not _Lota_, that is Christians, but that they were a very good sort of people. They had sent him on to the end of the reef to pilot in the canoe, he said, and they themselves would soon come to welcome the strangers. He had scarcely spoken before a large number of wild, nearly naked savages came out from among the trees. They were armed with spears and clubs, had long matted hair like a black thatch over their heads, and were altogether a very forbidding, unattractive set of beings. Still, from what they said to Marco and the other natives, and by their actions, they appeared to be friendlily disposed towards their visitors. It was near evening, and they signified that, if the visitors would remain overnight, they would the next day bring all the provisions required, and plenty of calabashes of pure water, which they stated was to be obtained in the middle of the island. Mr Manners thanked them, and said that he would remain till the next day. The natives then invited them to come and sleep on sh.o.r.e; but this Mr Manners declined, as he preferred sleeping on board the canoe. To allow more room on board, he said that he would not object to some of his people building huts of boughs for themselves on the beach, but urged them on no account to go to a distance from it. The natives, however, to show their good intentions, brought down to the beach a supply of taro and other roots and fruits, likewise as much fresh-water as their visitors would require. They seemed, as Mr Manners thought, rather disappointed that no one would accompany them away from the sh.o.r.e. They stood by while the provisions were being cooked, rather astonished at the proceeding; still greater was their surprise when the natives sung a hymn and offered up a prayer before they began to eat. What it could all mean of course they could not tell, but they probably had an idea that it was some sort of incantation, for they were seen to draw back for some distance, and not till the hymn was finished did they return, when they stood looking on as before.

Ben and Tom, with two of the English seamen, were allowed to go on sh.o.r.e that they might draw the white man, if possible, into conversation, if he could speak English. He had hitherto kept aloof from the strangers, and even stood behind his native companions while the hymn was being sung. When the natives had finished singing, Ben stood up and said the short grace which his father had been accustomed to repeat before meals.

The white man, who at that time was standing a little way apart from his companions while Ben was speaking, drew nearer to him, and seemed to be listening attentively.

"I say, old fellow, come and have something to eat," said one of the seamen, holding out a bit of taro at the end of his knife.

The white man looked wistfully towards the strangers; then he cast a glance at the scowling, savage-looking natives who were watching him, and, shaking his head, again drew farther back from them. There he sat without speaking, and each time either Ben or Tom, or the other two seamen, addressed him, he shook his head, as if either he did not understand, or, at all events, did not wish to hold any communication with them.

While the party who purposed sleeping on the sh.o.r.e were putting up their huts, and collecting leaves for their beds, the natives and the white man, as before, stood watching them, but made no offer of a.s.sistance.

The Christian visitors again sang a hymn, as the sun set and darkness came on. Then commending themselves to the protection of Heaven, they crept into their huts, and lay down to sleep. Ben and his s.h.i.+pmates, finding that the natives and their white a.s.sociate had gone away, soon after followed their example; one of the seamen promising to sleep with one eye open, so as to be on the watch, though it was the opinion of all that the natives were a quiet sort of people, who would do them no harm.

There was no moon; but the sky was clear, and the bright stars which glittered forth from it in countless numbers, in that pure atmosphere, afforded sufficient light to enable objects to be visible at a little distance.

Ben had slept for some time, he fancied, when he was awakened by feeling a hand placed on his arm.

"Hist, youngster! don't lie sleeping there," whispered a voice in his ear. "Rouse up the other Englishmen. Get on board the canoe, and be off, or you'll all be murdered. Never mind the natives with you. If you wake them up, there'll be a noise, and the people of the place will be down on them. Don't speak above a whisper, whatever you do. The people are not far off, and I found it a hard job to steal away."