Yr Ynys Unyg Part 9

Madame sat down in triumph; the young ones made the air sound with their laughter; Jenny looked appealingly to me. Schillie said, "What a nasty boy." I exclaimed in horror and wonder, "Good heavens! suppose it disagrees with him." This frightful notion spread; Jenny took to tears--Madame was quite affected--Schillie recommended an emetic--Hargrave rushed to put it in force--and Felix was overwhelmed with questions as to what he felt; had he a pain?--where was his pain?--did he feel odd?--was he sure he felt nothing?--and it was nearly an hour ere he was suffered to go to bed, with no other remedy than a good fright, and the next day he appeared as pert as ever, recommending those that did not like certain lesson books to eat them up, for, after all, he added, "books are not so nasty to eat as to learn."

CHAPTER XVII.

The time pa.s.sed, to use Gatty's phrase, "fatally fast," in fact, we heard distant murmurs and fears expressed lest our dear old captain should return too soon. There was something so novel and unrestrained in our present life, and we all seemed to feel we never should again have such an opportunity of imitating the gipsies, and we were so happy and merry, that, excepting Madame, we were none of us willing to be restored too soon to civilized life.

Was our future fate a punishment or not, for thus presuming to decide our own destiny? A fortnight pa.s.sed. On whose heart fell first the dread thought that something was pending over us, too horrible to be put into words? In the dead of night, I whispered low in Schillie's ear, "Do you think anything can have happened to the s.h.i.+p?" "Nonsense, who but you would think anything so ridiculous. Do you know I think I have discovered what these trees are. I am sure they are a species of Banyan." "Yes," said I absently. "Yes," said she, "yes, did you say?

Then why did you not tell me before. I have never been able to sleep a wink when I first came to bed for wondering what they could be. Just like you." So she sulkily went off to sleep.

Another fortnight pa.s.sed. No word yet was spoken, no voice had even uttered where was the Captain, Smart, La Luna? But the Mother's face was pale. She spent her days on the cliffs, looking out until her eyes ached, and bade the little Mother, who sat so silent and quiet beside her, to look for her through the telescope. And the merry voices were hushed, no laughter was heard, the meals pa.s.sed in silence, the little ones played at a distance speaking in whispers, on every face you could trace a hidden fear, a secret dread, a mysterious foreboding, but not a word was spoken on the thought of each heart. As evening after evening stole by, the Mothers came down from their watch on the cliff, and though every eye asked, "Have you seen nothing?" yet no tongue had courage to say, "Where was the Captain, Smart, La Luna?"

One day, it was hotter than usual, the sun was going down with a red glare, a low moaning wind came every now and then suddenly through the trees. As Schillie and I came down the cliffs, our knees knocked together with heat and la.s.situde. We had not spoken for several hours until I had said, "Come, let us go." She mutely a.s.sented, and, supporting each other, we wearily and slowly clambered down. Suddenly stopping at a a smooth place on the cliff, on which had been spread by Smart the skin of the Anaconda to dry, and which still remained as he had left it, she said to me, "Which fate do you prefer, June, would you rather now be a corpse within that skin, or yet alive with your present feelings and fears." "O, Schillie, Schillie," I exclaimed, "it is not for myself I fear, but think of all these young ones, can it really be possible or true that we are likely to spend our lives in this place."

_Schillie._--"At present it seems true enough, not that you will have long to fret about it, for we shall have to bury you soon, grieving in this manner; I shall go as soon as I can after you; Madame is already gasping; and then I should like to know what will become of all the young ones."

_Mother._--"I do my best, I try to think about it as little as possible.

But what are your thoughts, Schillie? What do you think about them not returning for us? Is it accident, or----"

_Schillie._--"Come, say no more at present, here are the girls coming to meet us. To-morrow we must settle something, it is due to them for the patience with which they have acted in the last fortnight, to take them into our councils. Give us all until to-morrow, before we finally doom ourselves to consider this island our living grave."

_Mother._--"But have you no hope, Schillie, speak quickly ere they come, have you no hope?"

_Schillie._--"Hope! hope for Aladdin's Lamp, Prince Ha.s.san's Carpet, Green's Balloon, a Railway over the Sea. Hope nothing, and you won't be disappointed."

_Mother._--"You are cruel, Schillie."

_Schillie._--"Face the worst at once, it will save you much sorrow hereafter. Now say no more, but sc.r.a.pe up a smile for those poor girls if you can."

Even this uncomfortable conversation proved of so much relief to us two that we were more cheerful that evening at tea, and consequently the poor children took courage to be also a little more lively. But we were hurried to our different shelters by a clap of thunder and flash of lightning, unlike anything we had ever seen before, and the rain fell in large splas.h.i.+ng drops. In the middle of the night, we were awakened by repeated peals of thunder cras.h.i.+ng over our heads, while the lightning played incessantly, beautiful but most awful to behold. The rain at first came in gusts, but after a while, such a deluge poured down upon us, that in half an hour our little frail huts were beaten down over our heads. One minute's exposure to the sheets of water that were descending drenched us through. With difficulty we crawled to a little cavern, which just held us, and also permitted the servants to change the children's dripping clothes, and thus pa.s.sed the whole night; but the sun arose as bright as ever, rendering the scene more brilliant and lovely, from the innumerable rain-drops bespangling everything. Not all the cold, misery, and discomfort we had undergone, besides losing our rest, prevented us exclaiming at the fresh beauty of the verdure and trees, and the sweet smell of the thirsty earth as we emerged from our cavern.

We had first to light a great fire, and then to spread all the bedding on the rocks to dry in the sun. We soon warmed some water, and drank hot tea and coffee; but Madame showed symptoms of a violent cold, and little Felix and Winny s.h.i.+vered and shook as if in an ague fit. The poor little huts were entirely ruined, and what was worse still, all our stores and the different things belonging to La Luna, though carefully covered with sail cloth and other things, were yet evidently much damaged by the wet; in fact, it was not this day only that we had to deplore the effect of the night storms catching us so unprepared. We suffered for it, as will be seen hereafter, the whole time we were on the island. However, we could now only think of making ourselves comfortable again. Of course the tents had been beaten down even before the huts; we could not shelter under the great chestnut tree, as the stream had swollen so as to surround it on all sides, was.h.i.+ng away all our seats, a great many dinner things, books, and various other matters which we had left there, and which of course had been carried down into the sea, so that we never recovered them again. Fresh disasters were being discovered every minute, and so much were we taken up by them, that it was not until late in the evening, when tired and exhausted we sat down to tea, that the much greater weight and dread on our minds returned in full force.

After a silence, Schillie looked at me and nodded. I tried to speak, but the words would not come, they died away in whispers. All waited in anxious expectation, not knowing what was coming; at last, Sybil and Serena both rose, and coming to me, clasped their arms round me, and said, "Dear Sister, if the s.h.i.+p does not come back for us, we do not care so long as you are well and happy. Do not grieve on our account, everything will end well, you will see. Do you not always bid us trust in G.o.d. Let us pray then for his help, but do not grieve, do not weep thus."

But their sweet voices, and comforting words were lost amidst the wailing and weeping that arose on all sides, now that we had given voice to our sad fears. Words fail me when I think of describing this mournful and affecting scene, for one and all seemed equally certain that hope was gone, we had now been three months here, and the captain told us all, not once, but many times, that in six weeks for certain he should return. Something therefore must have happened. Either the vessel must have foundered, or they had failed in getting another vessel for us, or they had met with some accident, or worse than all from the instruments being destroyed on deck during the storm Captain MacNab had not been able to take any observations so as to settle whereabouts this island was, and he was perhaps now sailing about unable to find us. For it was a most singular thing which we had several times noticed, that during the whole time we had been there we had never seen a vessel on the horizon. That was a mournful evening, so sad and painful that I am sure none of those who partic.i.p.ated in it could forget it as long as life lasted. And in the midst of the fears that a.s.sailed us regarding our future lot, many were the sorrowful thoughts we had as to what could have become of the kind good Captain, the faithful and attached Smart, and all those worthy companions, so lately forming a part of ourselves.

Darkness had long wrapped the little island in her dull mantle, but sobs were heard in different parts of the little cavern in which we had all been obliged to congregate for the night, and gentle whispers of prayer to the giver of all good rose now and then in the stillness of the night, shewing that some hearts felt too deeply to sleep; the overwrought minds sought comfort from the bountiful fountain of love and compa.s.sion, that increaseth as it is poured forth. And full well can we say, our trust hath not been in vain, deeply as we suffered then and since. But on looking back to that time, and all the subsequent trials that have befallen us, I think this period was the most painful we ever endured. Not only were we in miserable uncertainty about ourselves, but we lost and bewildered ourselves in painful conjectures as as to what could have become of our companions.

To have been told that they were really destroyed, that we should never see them more, that we must depend upon ourselves for every thing, and upon chance that we might be taken from the island, would I think have been less painful to bear than the state in which we found ourselves. At any rate then we should have known what to do, and would in all probability have exerted ourselves to better our condition as best we could.

But at present we were like people suddenly left in the dark, with the additional feeling of not knowing when it would be light again, or what we could do to free ourselves. Say that we were to sit still, and wait with patience, hoping the best, believing it impossible that we could be alone and deserted, this could not last, we could not sit still for ever. Say that we immediately made up our minds to the worst; that we were alone, and to be so for an indefinite, perhaps final period; that we must s.h.i.+ft for ourselves; that our welfare, peace, comfort, food, clothing, solely depended on our own exertions; then, perhaps, after making these exertions, after using every effort, and they would be no slight ones, but must commence immediately with great toil, and anxious thought, they would arrive, we should be saved, and thus have undergone unnecessary labour and fatigue for nothing.

Yet we were at present fitted for neither of these fates. The life of ease and enjoyment without care or thought, that we had indulged in for two months; the indolent habits we had contracted from the, to us, unusual hot climate; the strangeness and suddenness of our fate, all combined to unnerve us, and for the present overwhelm the energy and strength of character necessary for such emergency.

That was a memorable night, calm and serene, as it was after the great storm of the preceding one. Troubled and tempest-tost was each heart as it awakened scared by its own dreams, through which ran wild visions of the beloved faces, perhaps never more to be seen. Yearnings after the homes we had so thoughtlessly left, the scenes we might never more behold, the voices perchance we should never hear again. Every thing we loved and valued and had left! seemed on this memorable night to come vividly before us. Was it therefore to be wondered that with subdued and chastened feelings we all met the next day, the elder ones steeling their hearts, and recovering their minds to enter into a regular discussion and investigation of the fate destined for them; the younger ones meek and sorrowful but most loving and engaging in their simple reliance on our words, and their quiet, but watchful antic.i.p.ations of our looks and wishes, and this day happened to be a Sunday.

We generally performed the church service on an elevated, but small platform above the dining place, looking down upon the great chestnut tree, and indeed upon all our possessions. Thus endeavouring to realize the scenes so often seen in England, where the pretty simple church, with its graceful spire, is seen on an elevated place, while the humble cottages, and rose-covered houses cl.u.s.tered round its base.

To make the resemblance more perfect, one single large cocoa-nut tree, with its tall stem and fan-like head, was the only tree growing near the spot, and the children were wont to call this tree when its solitary condition caught their eye, the church spire.

The cliff shelved over some feet, making a natural shade and cover, and here we placed the proper seats, two only being at the foot of the tree whose occupants read and responded to the church service.

Sometimes a sermon was read after the prayers, but more often it was my habit to give each of the young ones a text from the Holy Bible, and from that they made small sermons, or rather remarks of their own which were meant only for the Mother's eye, and sacredly respected by her in that particular.

On this Sunday, the prayers being over, the psalm sung, they waited a short s.p.a.ce for me to give them their texts as usual, but seeing how sorrowful and weak I was, and so slow in finding them out, they asked to choose their own texts for this time, which I willingly granted.

They separated to perform their own tasks until dinner time, after which Schillie and I intended between us to enter into a full discussion of our present state, and future lot, a.s.sisted by Madame, before them all.

"In the mult.i.tude of councillors there is knowledge," and tho' many of our party were so young, yet I have often noticed happy thoughts, and very sage ideas rise in little heads, and amongst so many might not some brilliant conception arise, some fresh thought be promulgated which had escaped the hara.s.sed minds, and jaded spirits of the older heads. My readers shall judge of this in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The meal was finished, everything was cleared away, the two maids were bid come and form part of the conclave, we were all equal now, and every one was to have a voice in this council.

Madame began by saying that she thought I was unnaturally hasty in concluding that we were really left on this island for life. "So many things, dear Madam, may have occurred to prevent their coming, of which we know nothing. Besides, Captain MacNab knew that we had provisions for six months, and he might not like to trust the vessel to the hurricanes that often precede the rainy season."

_Mother._--"That is very true, Madame, but I don't think the Captain would willingly put us to such anxiety; besides, he knows that we have no shelter to screen us from the violent effects of the rain."

_Madame._--"But I think, Madam, we should not so immediately conclude that he is not coming at all, and that we are inevitably left alone here."

_Mother._--"I do not conclude so inevitably, but it is better to come to some decision than to spend our time as we have done the last six weeks. Had we not spent our days in hoping instead of doing we should not be in such an uncomfortable situation as we are now. Two children have certainly got symptoms of ague, and you have a wretched cold and cough, half our worldly possessions are more or less damaged by the rain, and should it return, where are we to look for shelter, what can we do to preserve the goods left us?"

_Madame._--"I have no doubt that the storm of the other night was only the precursor of the rainy season, which lasts from fifteen to twenty-five days in the climate to which I have been accustomed."

_Mother._--"Then there is the more necessity for our exerting ourselves.

Tell me, Schillie, what do you think?"

_Schillie._--"I think nothing. If we are to be drowned, it's the same to me whether it is by rain or sea."

_Mother._--"Nay, you are unkind. It is at moments like these when clear heads and quick wits are most invaluable. You surely don't intend to burden me with the sole arrangement of this painful and arduous undertaking."

_Schillie._--"I don't see what you have got to bother yourself about.

You would build a hut spite of all I could say, and the first shower drove it down on your ears."

Several voices exclaimed, "Oh, cousin Schillie, a shower! did you call that dreadful storm a shower!" while Madame lifted up her hands and eyes, and said, "it was a fearful deluge."

_Schillie._--"Yes, yes, I dare say it was rather heavy; but it is nothing to what we shall have."

"Heaven forbid," again exclaimed Madame, while the little ones seemed equally aghast at the idea.

_Mother._--"I grant that building more huts is out of the question, and, besides, we have not time, I suppose, but we must do something to save what we have left of our property. Come, girls, what can you suggest?"

_Sybil._--"I can only think of covering everything with those great big plantain leaves."