“Now, mates, fighting’s thirsty work; haven’t you ever a drop to drink,” asked Bristol Bob, “and a bit of bacca?”
I at once got him a drink of water, and said I’d hunt up some tobacco and a pipe for him.
“Water, lad? Well, I’ll have a drink; but haven’t you got anything better—no rum nor square gin?”
“There is a bottle of spirits, which we have kept; but it’s stowed away, and I can’t get it out unless we unstow the whole boat,” I answered.
“Never mind,” replied Bristol Bob, “I can do without it till we land. Fancy, lads, it’s three months since I’ve had a tot of grog, and till another trader comes round I shall have to go thirsty.”
All three of us—Tom, Bill, and myself—did not much care about this, for on board the Golden Fleece we had seen quite enough of the evils of drunkenness, and looked at each other rather gloomily. But all of a sudden I noticed that Bristol Bob’s shirt was stained with blood, and said to him,—
“Why, you’re wounded.”
“Why, yes, lad,” he said, “I believe I am; but you won’t think much of such a scratch as that when you’ve been knocking about as many years as I have.”
Tom and I, however, insisted on examining his wound while Bill steered3, and pulling off his shirt we found under his left arm a small, punctured4 wound from which the blood was oozing5 slowly.
One of the natives, however, who was watching what we were about, when he saw the wound, looked grave, and laying his paddle in, came and looked at it.
He said something to Bristol Bob which we did not understand, but as soon as he heard it the latter said,—
“Well, it don’t look much, but it may give me my walking ticket. Here, take my knife—it’s sharp enough; and if you can feel anything inside, cut it out.”
Tom felt carefully round the wound, and after some little time said,—
“I feel something like a splinter here, about an inch and a half from the hole.”
“Cut it out, then,” said Bristol Bob. “Don’t be afeared, but cut well in.”
Tom said he hardly liked to do so, but the wounded man insisted; so Tom cut in carefully, and found imbedded in the flesh a splinter of bone as sharp as a needle and two inches long, which he drew out and gave to his patient.
“Ah,” he said, “?’tis as I thought. It’s one of they bone-pointed arrows has struck me, and they’s woundy poisonous things.”
I had now taken off my own shirt, which was but a ragged7 garment, and begun to tear it into strips to bind8 the wound up, but Bristol Bob said,—
“No, lad; don’t bind it up yet. We’ll burn it a bit first to get the poison out. Have you a cartridge9 handy?”
“Why, yes,” I said. “What do you want done?”
“Just empty the powder into the cut, and set it alight, and you may give me the bullet to chew the while.”
I and Tom looked aghast at this proposal; but Bristol Bob insisted, and laid himself down so that the powder could be put in the wound, and taking the bullet in his mouth he told us to fire it.
He rolled about and groaned10 while the powder was fizzing and sputtering11, but less than we had expected; and when it was burned out he gave a long breath, and said,—
Fortunately, we had brought a little cocoanut oil from Ring Island with us, and soaking some rag in this we put it over the burnt wound, and lashed13 it in place as well as we were able.
By the time this was done we were past the point from which the canoes had put out, and saw behind it a large bay, in one corner of which was a little island some three hundred yards long and a hundred wide, on which was a hut with whitewashed14 walls standing15 in the middle of a grove16 of bananas.
“There’s my shanty17, lads,” said Bristol Bob, who was smoking his pipe as if nothing was the matter with him. “I finds it best to be away from the mainland, for none of these people is to be trusted over much; though for the matter of that water don’t make much matter to them, for they swims like fishes. Up there,” he said, pointing to the other side of the bay, “is Wanga’s village—there where you see the cocoanuts growing in a cluster.”
We steered for Bristol Bob’s island, and found behind it a perfectly18 secure anchorage for the Escape, and moored19 her carefully, and cleared out all her cargo20.
Bristol Bob told us we were welcome to quarters in his house, which consisted of two rooms, one of which was locked up, being a store, and the other, twelve feet by twenty, was the living-room and bedroom all in one.
Close by were half a dozen native huts, which were only like thatched roofs resting on the ground, without walls, and open at both ends, in which lived some of the natives who were in his employment.
The men, except those who had come back in the Escape with us, were away in the war-canoes; but a dozen women and a lot of children were about, and soon carried up our traps to the house, where we found Bristol Bob lying down on his bed groaning21.
“Are you very bad?” said Tom. “What can we do for you?”
“Nought,” he replied. “It’s only the pain of the burn. But where’s that bottle of grog you spoke22 about? I’ll have a tot, and that maybe will send me to sleep.”
We tried to dissuade23 him from drinking while he was suffering from his wound, but it was of no avail. He possessed24 himself of our bottle, and drank more than half of it, with the addition of very little water; and then he put the bottle under his head, saying that it would be handy if he was thirsty, and soon after fell asleep.
The room was a queer place. In each corner was a sort of bed-place furnished with blankets and rugs, on one of which Bristol Bob was sleeping. In the middle was a rude table, not over clean, which, with some stools and chests, completed the furniture.
We stowed away our belongings25, and then, being somewhat hungry, we thought of getting something to eat, and went outside to find a place where we could cook; but one of the women, when she saw us making a fire, made signs that she had something ready for us, and brought in a large tin dish, in which was a sort of stew26 of fowls27 and salt pork, and two great yams which had been roasted in the ashes, and put them on the table, with some salt and capsicums.
As she left us when she had placed the food on the table, we supposed we should have to eat, as we had hitherto been doing, with our knives, and from the common dish; but Bill, who was always looking into holes and corners, found a sort of cupboard in one corner of the room in which were some coarse delft plates, steel forks, and pewter spoons, and also some drinking-vessels.
“Here we are. We can eat more respectably now,” said Bill. “But, hark! what’s that noise?”
Boom, boom, boom, came the sound of the huge drums of the natives, and mingling28 with their notes were shouts of revelry and shrieks29 of horror.
Bristol Bob, who had been sleeping, breathing hard and uneasily, began to move and toss on his bed, and presently sat up and stared around.
“What’s that?” he said. “The death-drums they’re beating for me?”
Tom at once went up to him and asked him how he was, and if he could do anything for him.
“Who are you?” said the sick man, whose eyes were now lighted up with the glare of fever. “Where do you come from?” And then, putting his hand under the pillow, he seized upon the bottle, and putting it to his lips took a long draught30 which almost emptied it.
“Ha!” he said, “I have it. Calla and Wanga are having a feast, and they’ll murder and eat me. Come; there’s not a moment to be lost.”
As he said this, Bristol Bob sprang from his couch; and seizing an axe31 which hung on the wall above it, he rushed out of his hut.
We followed him, wondering what he intended to do, and quickly as he went we were close on his heels, as he made his way to a small mound32 some thirty yards away. Here he stopped, and said,—
“Ha! ha! they shan’t eat me yet,” and then stooping down he began to clear away some leaves and wood, and disclosed a small door set in the ground and framed with stout33 posts. This he opened, and disclosed a passage dug in the ground, down which he went, followed by Bill and me; while Tom, who feared that Bristol Bob’s ravings might have some meaning, stopped behind to close and bar the door.
At the end of the passage we came into a chamber34 about twelve feet square every way, and here the wounded man struck a light with a flint and steel, and lighted a rude cocoanut-oil lamp.
By its feeble rays we could see that here were stowed away four or five kegs and a couple of small boxes. On one of the latter the madman, for Bristol Bob, from the combined effects of spirits and fever, was now no better than a maniac35, placed the lamp, and then, with his axe, stove in the head of one of the kegs, which to our horror we saw was full of gun-powder.
The powder he poured on the floor near the other kegs, and then loosened their staves by a blow from his axe, so that the powder they contained would mix with that he had poured on the ground; and then he stood up and laughed as he rubbed his hands.
“They think they’ll eat Bristol Bob? Not if I knows it. I’ll blow myself up first.”
Bill and I stood aghast at his proceedings36, and even watched Bristol Bob reach for his lamp to light the powder without interfering37 or moving, when Tom, who had secured the door, came down the passage, and saw at a glance what was going on.
Without any pause or hesitation38 he dashed at the madman, and snatched the lamp away and blew it out. Bristol Bob, with a roar like a wild beast, seized the smouldering wick, and threw it on the powder, where it lay smoking.
Tom, who was struggling with Bristol Bob, shouted to us to take the wick off the powder, or we should be all blown up. I was so unmanned by terror that I covered my eyes and waited for the explosion, paralyzed with fear, and Bill has since owned to me that he was as frightened as I was.
The time passed, and no explosion took place, though we could hear the sound of the struggles of Tom and Bristol Bob as they rolled on the ground, and the cries of the former to take the wick off the powder.
Finding that we were not blown up, I uncovered my eyes, and saw the wick still lying on the powder, a dull red spot covered with grey ash at the end of it; and mustering39 up all my resolution I stooped down, caught it away, and extinguished it.
“That’s right,” I heard Tom say. “Here, one of you, help me with this fellow—he’s most too much for me; and the other go up and unbar the door, and let’s get out of this.”
I went to Tom’s help, and together we managed to get Bristol Bob down, while Bill went up and unbarred and opened the door; and then, coming down to our assistance, he helped to drag the poor fellow back to his hut, where we placed him on his bed, and tied his hands and feet to prevent his doing any more mischief40. But now he seemed in a sort of stupor41.
This done, Tom replaced the dressing42 on his wound, and told Bill and me to go back and close and cover up the door of the place where the powder was. When this was done we came back to the hut. We found Tom sitting down with his elbows on his knees, and holding his head between his hands, while Bristol Bob moaned wearily on his couch; and always we heard the weird43 sound of the native drums.
We spoke to Tom two or three times before he looked up, and when he did he said,—
“I can’t make it out why the powder did not fire. It must have been damp or something; but anyway, ’tis only by the mercy of God we have been saved. Let us kneel down and thank Him for preserving us from great peril44, and implore45 Him to guard us in the future as He has done in the past.”
When we had finished, I said to him,—
“How is it that you are so different from all other sailors? On board the Fleece, from the captain downwards46, every one but you swore and used bad language.”
“Not from all other sailors, Sam. I learned it aboard of my first ship. Her captain was really a good man; but there’s no time to talk of these matters now. I doubt not that Bristol Bob’s madness had some reason in it, and that over at the chief’s village there’s murder and all sorts of horrors going on. The sound of them drums goes right through me. Now, if the idea gets in the savages’ heads to come after us, I don’t believe Calla nor Wanga nor any of their chiefs could hinder them, so we must keep a good lookout47. I wish they had brought back the little cannon48 that was in the canoe.”
“What do you suppose they’d do?” asked Bill.
“Why, they might kill and eat us.”
“Not really. Why can’t we get down to the Escape and get away while it’s dark?” I said.
“What! with all our provisions and water ashore49, and leave this poor fellow here?” said Tom. “No, we must keep a good lookout until they’re all quiet, and then to-morrow we can make our plans for going away.”
Even as we were speaking, the drums were beaten with less fury, and the shouts of the natives were less noisy and frequent; and after about another half-hour they ceased altogether.
“Now,” said Tom, “you two fellows go to sleep. I’ll look after the sick man to see if he wants anything. He seems pretty quiet now, so I’ll unlash his hands and feet.”
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收听单词发音
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1
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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4
punctured
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| v.在（某物）上穿孔( puncture的过去式和过去分词 )；刺穿（某物）；削弱（某人的傲气、信心等）；泄某人的气 | |
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5
oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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6
prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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7
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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8
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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9
cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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10
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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11
sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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12
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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13
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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14
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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16
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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17
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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18
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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19
moored
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| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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20
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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21
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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22
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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23
dissuade
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| v.劝阻，阻止 | |
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24
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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25
belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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26
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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27
fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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28
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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29
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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30
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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31
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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32
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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34
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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35
maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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36
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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37
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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38
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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39
mustering
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的现在分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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40
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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41
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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42
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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43
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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44
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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45
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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46
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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47
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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48
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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49
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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