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Chapter IX

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The passage was less than a mile ahead, and as we were now able to bear off a little and fill the sails, we were abreast of the opening in about a quarter of an hour. It proved to be a good two cable-lengths wide, and clear of rocks, with a small, barren islet just inside. We entered with a strong current setting to the westward; presently the roll of the sea was gone, and the launch sailed briskly over waters as calm as those of a lake at home.

I looked with longing at the islet close abreast of us. Though small and barren, it was at least dry land. Purcell’s longing got the better of him.

“Let us go ashore, sir,” he suggested, when it was apparent that the captain was going to sail on. “Cannot we land and stretch our legs?”

Bligh shook his head. “We should find nothing there. Look ahead, man!”

Two other islands, one of them high and wooded, were now visible at a distance of four or five leagues to the northwest; and close beyond, I could see the main of New Holland—valleys and high land, densely wooded in parts.

The afternoon was well advanced when we reached the first of the two islands—little more than a heap of stones. The larger island was about three miles in circuit, high, well wooded, with a sheltered, sandy bay on the northwest side. From this bay, the nearest point on the main was about four hundred yards distant. As there were no signs of Indians in the vicinity, we beached the boat at once. For twenty-six days we had not set foot on land.

Mr. Bligh was the first to step on shore, staggering a little from weakness and the unaccustomed feel of firm ground. Fryer, Purcell, Peckover, Cole, and the midshipmen followed. All these could walk, though with difficulty. Hall, Smith, Lebogue and Samuel managed to get out of the boat, and either staggered or crawled to a place where the sand was soft and shaded by some small, bushy trees. The rest of us were in such a state as forced our stronger companions to help us ashore.

Mr. Bligh now uncovered, while those who were able knelt round him on the sand; and if ever men have offered heartfelt thanks to God for deliverance from the perils of the sea, surely we were those men.

After a brief silence, Bligh cleared his throat and turned to the master. “Mr. Fryer,” he said, “take the strongest of the people and search for shellfish. There should be oysters or mussels on the rocks yonder.... Mr. Peckover, you will accompany me inland.... Mr. Cole, remain in charge of the boat. Take care that no fires are lit to-night.”

Nelson and I had each had a small sup of wine, administered by the captain’s hand. This, together with the prospect of something to eat and the delight of being once more on land, gave us fresh strength. We lay side by side. The sand was pleasantly warm, and a clump of dwarfish palms cast an agreeable shade.

We talked but little. We needed time to accustom ourselves to the fact that we were still alive, and to lie outstretched on dry land was a privilege so great that we could scarcely believe it ours.

“Can you realize, my dear Ledward, that our troubles are over?” Nelson asked, at length. “I have often heard Captain Cook speak of his passage inside the reefs of New Holland. Among these islands we shall find something to eat: shellfish, certainly, as well as berries and beans that are fit for food. There should be water on some of the larger islands.”

“It is curious,” I replied; “at present I feel not the slightest desire for food. I would not exchange the rest we are enjoying for the best meal that might be set before us.”

“I feel the same,” he said. “It is rest we need now above everything.”

We fell silent again, and remained so for a long time. A flock of large birds, parrots of some sort, passed overhead with harsh cries and disappeared in the direction of the main. I saw Nelson’s eyes roving this way and that as he studied the vegetation about us.

“These palms are new to me,” he said; “yet I feel certain that their hearts, like those of the coconut palm, will provide excellent salad.”

Presently the sun went down, and far along the beach we saw the foraging party returning. I knew how weary they must be, and felt ashamed of my own lack of strength.

“We’re a useless pair, Nelson,” I said. “Why were we not given stronger bodies?”

“Never fear,” he replied. “We’ll soon be taking our share of labour. I feel greatly refreshed already.”

The captain and Peckover had their hats partly filled with fruits of two sorts.

“Have a look at these, Mr. Nelson,” said Bligh. “By God! We’ve found little for the length of the walk. I observed that the birds eat freely of these berries. May we not do the same?”

“Aye, they look wholesome and good. I recognize their families, but the species are new to me. These palms, sir—cannot some of the people cut out a few of the hearts? We’ll find them delicious, I’ll be bound.”

“There, Peckover!” Bligh exclaimed, turning to the gunner. “That shows the need for a botanist in every ship’s company. We’ve walked miles for a few berries, and Mr. Nelson finds food for us within a dozen paces of the boat!”

“Aye,” said Peckover. “I’d be pleased to have the knowledge inside Mr. Nelson’s head. We’ve found good water, Mr. Ledward, and plenty of it. We can drink our fill while here.”

Fryer and his men were coming up the beach—well laden, as I perceived at a glance.

“We shall feast to-night,” he called. “We’ve found oysters galore! And larger and better tasting than those at home!”

“Come, lads,” said Bligh; “let us turn to without waste of time.”

I have never been averse to the pleasures of the table, and have had the good fortune to partake of many excellent meals; but never do I recollect having supped with more pleasure than on this night. Fryer had adopted the simple expedient of opening the oysters where they grew, without attempting to loose them from the rocks. Our copper pot held close to three gallons, and it was more than half full of oysters of an amazing size, soaking in their own juice. Some of the people had woven baskets of palm fronds, an art they had learned from the Indians of Otaheite, and in these they carried a supply of unopened oysters, prized off the rocks with a cutlass. The fruits were excellent, particularly one kind which resembled a gooseberry, but tasted sweeter; the palm hearts were like tender young cabbage, eaten raw.

I recommended Nelson, Lamb, and Simpson to eat of nothing but oysters that night,—a diet suitable to their distressed state,—and I myself refrained from anything else. The night was warm and clear. When we had supped, and drunk to our heart’s content of the cool, sweet water of the island, I composed myself for sleep on the sand.

The firm ground seemed still to rock and heave. But it was wonderfully agreeable to stretch my legs out to their full extent; to lie on the warm sand and gaze up at the stars. I was sorry for some of the people, who had been ordered to anchor the launch in shallow water, near the sands, and to sleep aboard of her. Mr. Bligh thought it not unlikely that Indians might be about. Presently I closed my eyes to thank my Maker briefly for His goodness in preserving us; a few moments later I fell into a dreamless sleep.

I was awakened by the loud chattering of parrots, flying from the interior of our island, where they appeared to roost, to the main. Flock after flock passed overhead with a great clamour; the last of them had gone before the sun was up. My companions lay sleeping close by, in the attitudes they had assumed the night before. I saw the boatswain wade ashore from the launch and kneel on the wet sand while he repeated the Lord’s Prayer in a rumbling voice, plainly audible where I lay. He rose, stripped off his shirt and ragged trousers, and plunged into the shallow bay, scrubbing his head and shoulders vigorously. Longing to follow his example, I managed to struggle to my feet, and was pleased to discover that I could walk.

Still splashing in the sea, Cole greeted me. “No need to ask how ye slept, Mr. Ledward! Ye look a new man!”

I felt one when I had bathed in the cool sea water and resumed my tattered garments, which a London ragpicker would have scorned to accept. The others were rising as I turned inland, walking with the uncertain gait of a year-old child.

Nelson managed to stand at the second attempt, but was forced to sink down again immediately, doubled up with a sharp pain in his stomach. “I’ve a mind to ask you to physic me,” he said with a wry smile.

I shook my head. “It would be imprudent in our state of weakness. Our pain and tenesmus are due to the emptiness of our bowels.”

Bligh joined us at that moment. “Sound advice, sir,” he said; “if a layman may express an opinion. To physic men in our state would but weaken us still more. I have suffered from the same violent pains. We’ll be quit of them once our bellies are filled.” He turned to hail the boatswain. “Come ashore, Mr. Cole, the lot of you.”

Fryer was sent out with a party to get oysters, and two men dispatched inland for fruit. Cole and Purcell were set to putting the boat in order, in case we should find savages about. I was among four or five whom the captain ordered to rest throughout the morning. Nelson lay beside me in the shade.

“What the devil is Cole up to?” he remarked.

The boatswain was wading about the launch, moving in circles and staring down into the water. After some time he came ashore with a long face. Bligh was writing in his journal, and glanced up as Cole addressed him.

“The lower gudgeon of the rudder’s gone, sir,” he said. “It must have dropped off as we was entering the bay. It’s not on the sand—that I’ll vouch for.”

Bligh closed his journal with a snap, and stood up. “Unship the rudder. Are you sure it’s nowhere under the boat?”

“I’ve made certain of that, sir.”

“Then lend Mr. Purcell a hand.” He turned to Nelson. “We’ve Providence to thank that this did not happen a few days ago! I had grummets fixed on either side of the transom, as you observed, in case we were forced to steer with the oars; but in severe weather it would have been next to impossible to keep afloat with them. We should have broached-to, almost certainly.”

Presently the carpenter brought the rudder ashore.

“It’s been under heavy strains, sir,” he explained. “The screws holding the gudgeon to the sternpost must have loosened in the wood.”

“Well, what can be done?”

Purcell held out a large staple. “I found this under the floor boards. It will serve.”

“Do your best, and see that it is stoutly set. We must beach the boat and examine her bottom to-day.”

The captain took leave of us and wandered inland to search for fruit. Purcell hammered at his staple on a rock, fitting its curve to the pintle of the rudder. I recommended the invalids to drink frequently of water, taking as much as they could hold, and set them an example by doing the same.

“It’s grub I need, not water!” said Lamb, making a wry face as I handed him a coconut shell full.

“You’ll have plenty of that shortly, my lad!” I said.

Simpson crawled off for another useless attempt to perform the impossible. “Poor devil!” Nelson said. “I’ll soon be doing the same.”

A little before noon the oyster gatherers returned with a bountiful supply. Nelson and I had arranged a hearth of stones, and found strength to gather a quantity of firewood. Bligh was soon on hand to kindle the fire with his magnifying glass and supervise the making of the stew—our first taste of hot food since leaving Tofoa, nearly a month before. The people were gathered in a circle about our fireplace, staring at the pot like a pack of wolves.

When all the oysters had been opened, we found that they and their liquor filled the pot to within four inches of the brim. Captain Bligh ordered Samuel to weigh out a twenty-fifth of a pound of bread for each man, making three quarters of a pound in all. A pound of fat pork was now cut up very fine and thrown into the stew, already beginning to bubble over a brisk fire. I was sitting with Nelson on the lee side, inhaling savoury whiffs of steam that drifted past.

“Let us add a quart of sea water,” said the master to Mr. Bligh. “It will serve as salt, and make the stew go further.”

“No, Mr. Fryer. What with oysters and the pork, it will be salty enough as it is.”

“We could add fresh water to make more of it. There’ll not be enough to go round.”

“Not enough, with a full pint each?” said Bligh impatiently. “If it will do for me, it will do for yourself, sir.”

Fryer said no more.

Presently the stew was ready. It was served out in Bligh’s own coconut shell, known to hold exactly a pint. My own shell held double that, and when I had been served I wished with the master that the amount might have been more. The crumbled bits of bread had boiled down to mingle with the liquor from the oysters and the fat pork, forming a sauce an alderman might not have despised. I tasted a small quantity with a little spoon I had whittled out of a bit of driftwood.

“Damme, sir!” said Bligh, turning to Nelson.

“Many’s the time I’ve eaten worse than this on His Majesty’s ships.”

“And many a better meal you have enjoyed less, I dare say,” Nelson replied.

“I’ve served on ships,” said Fryer, “where we’d not such a meal for six months together.”

“Aye,” said the captain. “Hunger’s the only sauce. It was damn near worth starving for a month to have such a relish for victuals.... Do you mind what day it is, Mr. Nelson?”

“What day? I could not be sure of telling you within a week.”

“It is Friday, the twenty-ninth of May: the anniversary of the Restoration of King Charles the Second. We shall call this Restoration Island, in his memory. The name will serve in a double sense. We have been restored, God knows!”

Employing some self-restraint, I managed to eat my share so as to take a full half hour to finish it. Fryer, I observed, gulped his down in an instant, and held out his shell for the few spoonfuls left over for every man. Purcell and Lenkletter played the gluttons as well, and I was forced to warn Simpson, still in a very weak state, against swallowing his food too fast.

Nelson and I felt so much revived after dinner that we set out for a tottering walk into the island. We found it rocky, with a barren soil, supporting a growth of stunted trees. There were many of the small palms whose hearts we had found good to eat; I recognized the purau, of Otaheite, in a stunted form; and there were other trees which Nelson informed me resembled the poisonous manchineel of the West Indies. About the summit of the island, not above one hundred and fifty feet in height, great numbers of parrots and large pigeons were feeding on the berries here growing in abundance, but though we tried to knock them down with stones, the birds were as hard to approach as partridges in England. We gathered a quantity of the better sort of berries, which eat very well indeed, and as we wandered toward the eastern side of the island we came upon two tumbled-down huts of the Indians. These were ruder than any Indian habitations I had seen. Nelson stooped over the blackened stones of a fireplace to take up a roughly fashioned spear, with the sharp end hardened in the fire.

At that moment I perceived in the sand the tracks of some large animal, unlike the footprints of any beast known to me. Nelson examined the tracks with interest.

“I think I can name the beast,” he said; “Mr. Gore, Captain Cook’s lieutenant, shot one at Endeavour River, south of here. It was as great as a man, mouse-coloured, and ran hopping on its hind legs. The Indians called it kanguroo.”

“How could it have come here?” I asked. “Do they swim?”

“That I don’t know. Perhaps; or it may be that the Indians stock these islands with young ones, where they may be easily caught when required.”

“Is the flesh fit for food?”

“Cook thought it was good as the best mutton. The beasts are said to be timid, and to run faster than a horse.”

As we approached the rocky shore on the east side of the island, Nelson chose himself a long, wide palm frond, and sat down, Indian fashion, to plait a basket. I admired the deftness of his fingers as they wove the leaflets swiftly this way and that; in ten minutes he had completed a stout basket, handle and all, fit to hold a full bushel.

“Now for the shellfish!” he remarked, as he rose shakily to his feet. “Gad, Ledward! I feel a new man to-day!”

I set to work with the cutlass, opening the oysters growing here and there on the rocks below high-water mark; with his Indian spear, Nelson waded among the pools. I soon had three or four dozen oysters in the basket. Nelson added two large cockles of the Tridacna kind to our bag: the pair of them a meal for a man. It was mid-afternoon when we took up our burdens and trudged back to the encampment, halting frequently to rest.

Our stew that afternoon was a noble one—oysters, cockles, and chopped-up heart of palm. This latter was added at Nelson’s suggestion, and was the cause of some murmuring.

“Are we to have no bread, sir?” asked the carpenter sourly.

“No,” replied Captain Bligh; “we shall save our bread. Mr. Nelson says these palm hearts are as good cooked as raw.”

Fryer stood by with a gloomy face. “It will ruin the stew,” he said. “The bread was the making of it at dinner time.”

“Aye, sir,” put in Purcell, “give us but half the full amount. It’ll be poor stuff without the bread.”

Bligh turned away impatiently. “Damn it, no!” he replied. “You’re grown queasy as young ladies on the island here! Wait till you taste the stew, if you must complain.”

Our meal was soon pronounced done, and each man received a full pint and a half. The sauce seemed to me even better than that we had eaten at dinner, and once the men tasted it all murmuring ceased.

At sunset, when it fell dead calm, we observed several columns of smoke at a distance of two or three miles on the main. Bligh ordered some of the people to pass the night in the boat, and a watch was kept on shore.

“We must be on our guard,” he said; “though I believe there is small danger of the Indians visiting us to-night. Our fire made no smoke, and they cannot have seen the boat.”

As darkness came on, Bligh went down to the beach, where Cole was on watch, and remained for a long time seated on the sand chatting with him, while the rest of us retired to our sleeping places.

Nelson was asleep almost at once; but returning strength had left me wakeful, and I lay for a long time gazing at the starlit sky. Purcell and the master lay close by, conversing in low tones. Perhaps they thought me asleep; in any event, I could not avoid overhearing what they said. After a time, I perceived that their talk had turned to the mutiny.

“Ungrateful?” the carpenter was saying. “Damn my eyes! What had they to be grateful for? Christian was treated worse than a dog half the time. I excuse none of ’em, mind! I’d be pleased to see every man of the lot swinging at a yardarm; but I’ll say this: If ever a captain deserved to lose his ship, ours did.”

“If that’s your feeling, why didn’t you join with Christian?” said Fryer.

“It’s no love for Captain Bligh that kept me from it, I’ll promise you that,” said Purcell. “He’s himself to thank for the mutiny, and so I’ll say if we’ve the luck to get home.”

“He has his faults,” said Fryer. “He trusts none of his officers to perform their duties, but must have a hand in everything. But if you think him a Tartar, you should sail with some of the captains I’ve served under. There was old Sandy Evans! The last topman off the yard got half a dozen with a colt. He called it ‘encouraging’ them.”

“I’d rather be flogged than cursed before my own men,” growled Purcell. “You mind what he called me before my mates in Adventure Bay? And what he said to Christian, with all the people about, the day before they seized the ship?”

“He’s overfree with his tongue,” admitted Fryer. “But what captain is not? The Navy’s no place for thin skins. Hard words and floggings are what seamen understand.” He paused for a moment. “I’ve served under easier captains,” he added. “He’s a hard man to please. But where would we be without him now? Tell me that. Whom would you wish in his place in the launch?”

“I’m not saying he lacks his good points,” the carpenter admitted grudgingly.

When I fell asleep at last, their voices were still murmuring on. I awoke feeling better than for many days past. Nelson was already up, and a party was setting out down the beach in search of new beds of oysters. Bligh was speaking to Purcell.

“I saw some good purau trees near the summit of the island,” he said. “Take your axe and see if you can find us a pair of spare yards.”

He turned to the boatswain. “Mr. Cole, see that the casks are all filled and placed in the boat.”

I went off oystering with Nelson, both of us able to walk pretty well by now. When we returned, preparations for dinner were under way. Mr. Bligh held in his hand the last of our pork, a piece of about two pounds’ weight, well streaked with lean. He handed it to Hall, motioning him to cut it up for the pot.

“We’ll sail with full bellies,” he remarked. “Since some villain robbed his mates of their pork, we’ll put it out of his power to play that scurvy trick again.”

He looked hard at Lamb as he spoke, and it seemed to me that the man hung his head with some slight expression of guilt.

With plenty of oysters, about a couple of ounces of pork for each man, and the usual ration of bread, we dined sumptuously; had we had a little pepper to season it, the stew would have been pronounced excellent anywhere. We had scarce finished eating when the captain spoke:—

“We shall set sail about two hours before sunset. With this moon coming on, we can avoid the danger of canoes by traveling as much as possible by night. Mr. Nelson and I will remain to guard the launch; the rest of you gather oysters for a sea store.”

The master had just stretched out for a siesta after his dinner, and he sat up with a gloomy expression at Bligh’s words.

“Can we not rest this afternoon, sir?” he asked. “None of us has his full strength as yet, and surely we shall find oysters at every landing place.”

“Aye,” growled Purcell. “You promised us we should touch at many islands before clearing Endeavour Straits.”

“I did,” said the captain; “but what assurance have you that we shall find oysters on them? We know that there are plenty here.” He flushed, controlling his temper with some difficulty. “We’ve naught but bread now, and little enough of that. Fetch what oysters you wish, or none at all! I’m tired of your damned complaints!” He turned his back and walked away as if fearing to lose control of himself. Shamed into acquiescence, Fryer and the carpenter now joined the others setting out along the shore.

The captain’s clerk was strolling southward with a basket on his arm, and I joined him, since Nelson was to remain with the boat.

“You know your Bible, Mr. Ledward,” remarked Samuel, when we were out of earshot of the others. “Do you recollect the passage concerning Jeshurun who waxed fat, and kicked?”

“Aye; and it falls pat on Restoration Island!”

Samuel smiled. “Where would they be, where would we all be, without Captain Bligh? Yet they must murmur the moment their bellies are full! I’ve no patience with such men.”

“Nor I.” Glancing at the clerk’s formerly plump body, now reduced to little more than skin and bones, and clad in rags, I could not repress a smile.

“Though we kick,” I said, “none of us could be accused of waxing fat!”

Toward four o’clock we returned with what shellfish we had been able to secure, and found all in readiness to sail. We took our places in the launch, the grapnel was weighed, and we were getting sail on her, when about a score of Indians appeared on the opposite shore of the main, shouting loudly at us. The heads of many others were discernible above the ridge behind them; but, to our great content, they seemed to be unprovided with canoes. Owing to this fortunate circumstance, we were able to pass pretty close to them, with a fresh breeze at E.S.E. They carried long, slender lances in their right hands, and in their left hands some sort of weapon or implement of an oval shape and about two feet long.

These Indians were unlike any we had seen in the South Sea; they were coal black, tall, and remarkably thin, with long, skinny legs. Two of the men stood leaning on their spears, with one knee bent, and the sole of the foot pressed against the inside of the other thigh—an attitude comical as it was uncouth. Though too far off to distinguish their features clearly, they seemed to me quite as ugly as the natives of Van Diemen’s Land.

The breeze freshened as we drew out of the lee, and the launch footed it briskly to the north, while the hallooing of savages grew fainter and finally died away.

Men Against the Sea – Book Set

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