Charley Laurel Part 15

The vessel was at last built, and ready to be launched. She was a schooner of about forty tons, and capable of carrying sixty or eighty men. The natives declared that none of their island canoes would be able to contend with her. It took some time to rig her, and to obtain suitable provisions and casks for holding water.

I don't know whether Motakee suspected the design of the Englishmen; but when I spoke of taking a cruise in her, he replied that he would not expose me to the dangers she might encounter, and I found that I was more narrowly watched than ever.

d.i.c.k came back one day, looking very much out of spirits.

"The other men have formed a plan for escaping, but I cannot agree to it," he said. "They intend to let as many natives as choose to come on board, and, as soon as they are out of sight of land, to rise upon them and heave them overboard, so that their provisions and water should not be exhausted, should they have to make a long voyage. And another thing is, Charley, I won't go without you."

Motakee had not entered into the views of his countrymen with regard to the vessel the Englishmen were building: he either suspected their design or believed that she would not prove as successful in attacking their foes as the rest supposed. When I asked his leave to go on board, he took me by the arm and whispered--

"I know your tricks; you should not have told me how you managed to get away and join your friend. No, no; I shall shut you up till the vessel has sailed."

He was as good as his word, and from that day I was not allowed to leave the hut without the company of one of his most trusted followers. He allowed d.i.c.k, however, to go about as he chose, apparently caring but little whether or not he made his escape.

d.i.c.k had been absent for three days. I could not believe that he had gone without me, and yet I felt very anxious about him. On the fourth day he returned.

"They have gone, Charley," he exclaimed; "all our people and thirty natives. I stopped to the last, trying to persuade them to give up their wicked plan; but they answered that the natives had murdered our friends and burned our ship, and that they had a right to treat them as they chose. I said that I was sure we ought not to return evil for evil, and that they might have found some other way of making their escape, and that no good could possibly come of what they were about.

They abused me, and asked me if I was going to betray them, and that if I would not come with them, I must take the consequences, as the natives were sure to murder us, as soon as they discovered what had become of their countrymen. Even now I think I was wrong in not warning Motakee, for I consented to evil, though I would not join in it."

When Motakee found that the schooner had sailed, he allowed me to go about as usual, and treated d.i.c.k with far more respect than before.

d.i.c.k, indeed, soon became his right-hand man, or councillor, and the people looked up to him as the person next to the chief, in consequence.

Some days after this it came on to blow very hard, and the sea beat with tremendous fury on the rocky coast. d.i.c.k and I wished to have a sight of the huge breakers outside the harbour. We went along the sh.o.r.e for some distance, to a part exposed to the whole sweep of the ocean. As we were looking along it, d.i.c.k exclaimed that he saw a vessel on the rocks.

We made our way as near as we could get to the spot.

"Charley, I am afraid that is the schooner," d.i.c.k exclaimed; "but there is not a living being on board."

We crept on still closer to the little vessel. We shouted loudly, lest any one might have been washed on sh.o.r.e, but no reply came to our cries.

"I am afraid every one has been washed away," he observed. "If the natives had been on board, they are such first-rate swimmers that some of them would have managed to reach the land."

We looked about in every direction, but could discover no boats on the beach nor any sign of a living man.

"It's too likely that our people did as they intended, and having got rid of the natives, were themselves caught in the hurricane and driven back here; but we shall never know, I suspect, what has happened."

After spending a considerable time in searching about, being unable to get nearer the wreck, we returned home. We told Motakee what we had seen; but, of course, did not mention our suspicions.

"I knew that the voyage would work us no good, to your people or mine,"

he observed; "and I am very glad you did not sail in the vessel."

We were, indeed, thankful that we had not.

Next day, when the hurricane was over, we went back with some of the natives to examine the wreck; but, on getting on board, we could find nothing to explain the mystery. d.i.c.k's opinion was that the crew had been on deck, and were washed overboard before the vessel struck, some time after they had disposed of the unfortunate natives in the way they had proposed.

I have not spoken of the various events which had taken place since we came to the island. Several times Motakee had gone out to fight his enemies, and had invariably returned victorious.

At length another expedition was talked of against a powerful tribe at some distance. He told d.i.c.k he must prepare to accompany him. I begged that I might go, too.

"No, Charley; you must stay at home," answered d.i.c.k. "I have no wish to go and fight other savages in a quarrel in which I have no concern, and I would not go if I could stay away without offending the chief. I don't want to kill any of the fellows, and I don't wish to be killed either."

The warriors were preparing to take their departure, when, early in the morning, as I was looking out over the sea, I caught sight of a ship approaching the island. I watched her eagerly, and when, at length, I felt sure she was standing towards the harbour, I ran back to tell d.i.c.k.

The natives had been so busy in preparing their weapons, that they had not observed her. Fortunately, no one saw me.

"Now is our chance, then," exclaimed d.i.c.k. "Come along, Charley: we will jump into a canoe, and maybe we shall get away from the sh.o.r.e before the savages miss us."

Without a moment's delay we hurried down to the beach, taking some paddles out of a canoe-hut on our way. We launched a canoe, which we found hauled up on the sh.o.r.e, and paddled with might and main out to sea. The water was smooth, and, though the wind was against us, we made good progress. The ship came on. We were alongside. Ropes were hove-to us, and, making the canoe fast, we scrambled up on deck.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

ESCAPE FROM THE ISLAND.

"Some savages come on board, sir," I heard the mate sing out to the captain, a fine-looking man, who was standing near the wheel; "an old and a young one."

"No, please you, sir," said d.i.c.k, stepping aft. "We are not savages, but unfortunate Englishmen. We have had a hard job to make our escape from the savages, though, and if you will take my advice, sir, you will not go into that harbour; for if you do, you will run a chance of being treated as our ship was."

"How is that, my man?" asked the captain; and d.i.c.k thereupon told him the way in which the _Dolphin_ had been cut off, and how all had been kept prisoners for upwards of two years by the natives.

"I thank you for the warning, my friend," said the captain, "and we will be on our guard against treachery. I think, however, that if we show that we are well armed and on the watch, we need not fear them. We are in want of water, wood, and vegetables, and by letting the natives understand that we will pay fairly for them, we shall, I hope, obtain what we require."

"As to that, sir, Charley Laurel and I can talk well enough to them; and we will take good care to tell them that they must play no tricks."

"You may be of much service to me, then," said the captain, "and I shall be glad to carry you and Charley Laurel, as you call him, to any place we touch at where you may wish to land."

"Thank you, sir," said d.i.c.k; "but we can both work our pa.s.sage, and though it is better than two years since I was afloat, I don't think I am less handy than before."

The ship, which we found to be the _Phoebe_, Captain Renton, having brought up in the bay, a number of canoes came off to her. The captain told me and d.i.c.k to say to them that he could allow no one on board.

The natives looked much surprised at seeing us on the deck, and they of course guessing that we had told the captain what had happened to the _Dolphin_, some of them paddled back again in a great fright, supposing that he had come to punish them for what they had done. By the captain's directions we told them not to be alarmed; that he wished to be friends with them; and that if they behaved well, they would be treated as friends.

In a short time Motakee came off. When we told Captain Renton who he was, he was invited on deck. He seemed greatly concerned at the thought of losing me, and asked me reproachfully how, after being treated as a son, I could think of deserting him. I a.s.sured him that I was very grateful for all his kindness, but that I wished to go back to live among people of my own colour and habits, and that otherwise I would gladly have remained with him. He soon made himself at home on board, and when invited into the cabin behaved with great propriety, and told me to express to the captain his regret for the ma.s.sacre of the _Dolphin's_ crew.

He put off his expedition on account of the arrival of the _Phoebe_, and while she remained in harbour he was constantly on board, and used every exertion to obtain what the captain wanted.

I at last parted from him with real regret, though d.i.c.k would not let me venture on sh.o.r.e, lest he might show his affection for me by keeping me a prisoner.

Captain Renton was a very different sort of person to poor Captain Podgers. We had prayers every evening in his cabin, and he would allow none of the officers to use abusive language towards the men, while he maintained strict discipline on board.

He proposed cruising for some time for whales in those lat.i.tudes, and then sailing south, to touch at one of the Society Islands.

The day after we sailed, the captain called me into his cabin.

"I have heard your history, my lad, from your friend, d.i.c.k Driver, and I find that you have had no advantages of education, while I am afraid that you are very ignorant of gospel truth, without which all education is of no avail in G.o.d's sight."

"As I have not seen a book since I was on board the _Dolphin_, I suspect that I should prove a bad hand at reading, sir," I answered: "but I have not forgotten what Miss Kitty told me about the love of Jesus to sinful man; how He willingly offered Himself up to be punished instead of us, that all who believe on Him may be free, and be able to go to G.o.d as children go to an affectionate father, and ask Him for all they want; and that when we die we may be sure that we shall be taken to live with Him in great joy and happiness for ever and ever."

"Ah, my dear boy," exclaimed the captain, his eye brightening with pleasure, "you already know then the most important truths I can tell you. And do you indeed believe that Jesus died for you, and is your Saviour, and loves you, and watches over you, and sends His Holy Spirit to help you to love Him, and serve Him, and to keep you out of temptation?"

"Yes, indeed I do, sir," I answered. "I pray to G.o.d through Him every night and morning, and I believe that He has preserved me from the many dangers I have gone through."