A wonderfully picturesque1 appearance did these shipwrecked mariners2 present that night when, under the shelter of the shrubbery that crowned their small island, they kindled3 several camp-fires, and busied themselves in preparing supper.
As there was no law in the island—and our skipper, having lost his ship, forbore to assert any right to command—every one naturally did what seemed right in his own eyes.
As yet there had arisen no bone of contention4 among them. Of food they had secured enough for at least a few days. Fire they had procured5 by means of flint, steel, and tinder. A clear spring furnished them with water, and ships’ buckets washed ashore6 enabled them to convey the same to their encampment. Fortunately, no rum-kegs had been found, so that evil passions were not stirred up, and, on the whole, the first night on the island was spent in a fair degree of harmony—considering the character of the men.
Those who had been kindred souls on board ship naturally drew together on shore, and kindled their several fires apart. Thus it came to pass that the skipper and his son, the two mates, and Paul Burns found themselves assembled round the same fire.
But the two mates, it is right to add, were only sympathetic in a small degree, because of their former position as officers, and their recent imprisonment7 together. In reality they were men of no principle and of weak character, whose tendency was always to throw in their lot with the winning side. Being a little uncertain as to which was the winning side that night, they had the wisdom to keep their own counsel.
Oliver presided over the culinary department.
“You see, I’m rather fond of cookin’,” he said, apologetically, “that’s why I take it in hand.”
“Ah, that comes of his bein’ a good boy to his mother,” said Master Trench8 in explanation, and with a nod of approval. “Olly was always ready to lend her a helpin’ hand in the house at anything that had to be done, which has made him a Jack-of-all-trades—cookin’ among the rest, as you see.”
“A pity that the means of displaying his powers are so limited,” said Paul, who busied himself in levelling the ground beside the fire for their beds.
“Limited!” exclaimed Trench, “you are hard to please, Master Paul; I have lived on worse food than salt pork and pancakes.”
“If so, father,” said Oliver, as he deftly9 tossed one of the cakes into the air and neatly10 caught it on its other side in the pan, “you must either have had the pork without the pancakes or the pancakes without the pork.”
“Nay, Master Shallowpate, I had neither.”
“What! did you live on nothing?”
“On nothing better than boiled sheepskin—and it was uncommon11 tough as well as tasteless; but it is wonderful what men will eat when they’re starving.”
“I think, father,” returned the boy, as he tossed and deftly caught the cake again, “that it is more wonderful what men will eat when they’re not starving! Of all the abominations that mortal man ever put between his grinders, I think the worst is that vile12 stuff—”
He was interrupted by a sudden outbreak of wrath13 at the fire next to theirs, where Big Swinton, Grummidge, and several others were engaged, like themselves, in preparing supper.
“There will be trouble in the camp before long, I see plainly enough,” remarked Paul, looking in the direction of the disputants. “These two men, Swinton and Grummidge, are too well-matched in body and mind and self-will to live at peace, and I foresee that they will dispute your right to command.”
“They won’t do that, Paul,” returned Trench quietly, “for I have already given up a right which I no longer possess. When the Water Wagtail went on the rocks, my reign14 came to an end. For the future we have no need to concern ourselves. The man with the most powerful will and the strongest mind will naturally come to the top—and that’s how it should be. I think that all the troubles of mankind arise from our interfering15 with the laws of Nature.”
“Agreed, heartily,” replied Paul, “only I would prefer to call them the laws of God. By the way, Master Trench, I have not yet told you that I have in my possession some of these same laws in a book.”
“Have you, indeed?—in a book! That’s a rare and not altogether a safe possession now-a-days.”
“You speak the sober truth, Master Trench,” returned Paul, putting his hand into a breast-pocket and drawing forth16 the packet which contained the fragment of the Gospel of John. “Persecution because of our beliefs is waxing hotter and hotter just now in unfortunate England. However, we run no risk of being roasted alive in Newfoundland for reading God’s blessed Word—see, there it is. A portion of the Gospel of John in manuscript, copied from the English translation of good Master Wycliffe.”
“A good and true man, I’ve heard say,” responded the skipper, as he turned over the leaves of the precious document with a species of solemn wonder, for it was the first time he had either seen or handled a portion of the Bible. “Pity that such a friend of the people should not have lived to the age o’ that ancient fellow—what’s his name—Thoosle, something or other?”
“Methuselah,” said Paul; “you’re right there, Master Trench. What might not a good man like Wycliffe have accomplished17 if he had been permitted to live and teach and fight for the truth for nine hundred and sixty-nine years?”
“You don’t mean to say he lived as long as that?” exclaimed the boy, looking up from his pots and pans.
“Indeed I do.”
“Well, well! he must have been little better than a live mummy by the end of that time!” replied Oliver, resuming his interest in his pots and pans.
“But how came you to know about all that Master Paul, if this is all the Scripture18 you’ve had?” asked Trench.
“My mother was deeply learned in the Scriptures,” answered Paul, “and she taught me diligently19 from my boyhood. The way she came to be so learned is curious. I will tell you how it came about, while we are doing justice to Oliver’s cookery.”
“You must know, Master Trench,” continued Paul, after the first demands of appetite had been appeased20, “that my dear mother was a true Christian21 from her youth. Her father was converted to Christ by one of that noble band of missionaries22 who were trained by the great Wycliffe, and whom he sent throughout England to preach the Gospel to the poor, carrying in their hands manuscript portions of that Gospel, translated by Wycliffe into plain English. You see, that curious invention of the German, John Gutenberg—I mean printing by movable types—was not known at that time, and even now, although half a century has passed since the Bible was printed abroad in Latin, no one with means and the power to do it has yet arisen to print an English Bible, but the day is not far distant when that work shall be done, I venture to prophesy23, though I make no pretence24 to be among the prophets!
“Well, as I was going to say, the missionary25 was a hoary26 old man when he preached the sermon that turned my grandfather from darkness to light. My grandfather was just fifteen years old at that time. Ten years later the same missionary came to grandfather’s house, worn out with years and labours, and died there, leaving all his treasure to his host. That treasure was a small portion of the New Testament27 in English, copied from Wycliffe’s own translation. You may be sure that my grandfather valued the legacy28 very highly. When he died he left it to my mother. About that time my mother married and went to live on the banks of the Severn. Not far from our farm there dwelt a family of the name of Hutchins. The father had changed his name and taken refuge there during the recent civil wars. This family possessed29 a Latin Bible, and the head of it was well acquainted with its contents. It was through him that my mother became well acquainted with the Old as well as the New Testament, and thus it was that I also came in course of time to know about Methuselah, and a good many more characters about whom I may perhaps tell you one of these days.”
“So, then, this is the manuscript the old missionary carried about, is it?” said Trench, fingering the fragment tenderly.
“Ay, and a good translation it is, I have been told by one whom most people would think too young to be a judge. You must know that this Mr Hutchins has a son named William, who is considerably30 younger than I am, but he is such a clever, precocious31 fellow, that before he left home for college I used to find him a most interesting companion. Indeed, I owe to him much of what little I have learned, for he is a wonderful linguist32, being able to read Hebrew and Greek about as easily as Latin or English. He is at Oxford33 now—at least he was there when I last heard of him. Moreover, it was through the Hutchins’ family, in a roundabout way, that your mother, Olly, came to learn to write such letters as you have got so carefully stowed away there in your breast-pocket.”
“Good luck to the Hutchins’ family then, say I,” returned Olly, “for I’m glad to be able to read, though, on account of the scarcity34 and dearness of manuscripts, I don’t have the chance of makin’ much use of my knowledge. But you puzzle me, Paul. It was poor Lucy Wentworth who used to live with us, and who died only last year, that taught me to read, and I never heard her mention the name of Hutchins. Did you, father?”
“No, I never did, Olly. She said she had lived with a family named Tyndale before she came to us, poor thing! She was an amazin’ clever girl to teach, and made your mother good at it in a wonderful short time. She tried me too, but it was of no use, I was too tough an’ old!”
“Just so, Master Trench,” rejoined Paul. “Hutchins’ real name was Tyndale, and he had resumed the name before Lucy Wentworth went to live with the family. So, you see, Olly, you are indebted, in a roundabout way, as I said, to the Tyndales for your mother’s letter. William will make his mark pretty deeply on the generation, I think, if God spares him.”
Little did Paul Burns think, when he made this prophetic speech by the camp-fire on that distant isle35 of the sea, that, even while he spoke36 William Tyndale was laying the foundation of that minute knowledge of the Greek and Hebrew languages, which afterwards enabled him to give the Bible to England in her own tongue, and that so ably translated, that, after numerous revisions by the most capable of scholars, large portions of his work remain unaltered at the present day.
The night was far spent, and the other members of the camp had been long buried in slumber37 before Paul and Trench and Oliver could tear themselves away from the manuscript Gospel of John. The latter two, who knew comparatively little of its contents, were at first impressed chiefly with the fact that they were examining that rare and costly38 article—a book, and a forbidden book, too, for the reading of which many a man and woman had been burned to death in times past—but they became still more deeply impressed as Paul went on reading and commenting and pointing out the value of the Book as God’s own “Word” to fallen man.
“Here is a promise to rest upon,” said Paul, as he finally closed the book and repeated the verse from memory, “Jesus said, If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples39 indeed; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”
“Ay, that’s it, Paul—free! We’re all slaves, more or less, to something or other. What we all want is to be free,” said Master Trench, as he drew his blanket round him, pillowed his head on his cloak, and went to sleep.
Silently Paul and Oliver followed his example, the fires died out, and in a few minutes the slumbering40 camp was shrouded41 in the mantle42 of night.
Energetic action was the order of the next day, for those shipwrecked mariners knew well enough that nothing but hard and steady labour could enable them to live on an apparently43 desolate44 island.
By daybreak most of the crew had scattered45 themselves along the shores, or over the interior, to spy out the land. About two hours later they began to drop into camp as hungry as hawks46, each carrying the result of his researches in his arms or on his shoulders.
“Well done, Squill!” said Paul, who chanced to be first back in camp, with a huge sail bundled up on his shoulder, and who, just then, was busy blowing up his fire; “got another barrel of pork, eh?”
“It’s myself as doesn’t know, sur,” answered Squill, “and it wasn’t me as found it, but Jim Heron there. I only helped to sling47 it on the pole, and shoulder an end. It’s aither pork or gunpowther, so if it ain’t good for a blow out it’ll be good for a blow up, anyhow.”
“Did you see little Oliver anywhere?” asked Paul.
“Ay, sur, I saw him on the shore, bringing up what seemed to me the ship’s bowsprit—anyhow, a spar o’ some sort, about as big as he could haul along.”
“Just so,” returned Paul, with a laugh, “a ridge-pole for our tent. He’s a smart boy, little Olly.”
Sure enough, Oliver appeared at the moment, dragging a heavy spar behind him. Several of the men appeared at the same time, staggering through the bushes, with various loads of wreckage49, which they flung down, and noisily began discussing their experiences as they lighted the fires and prepared breakfast.
“Here comes Little Stubbs,” cried Jim Heron. “What fortune, comrade?”
“Good fortune, though my load is the lightest yet brought in.”
He flung down a small piece of wood with an air of satisfaction.
“Why, it’s only a boat’s rudder!” said Oliver.
“Ay, so it is, and the boat lies where I picked it up, but it was too heavy to bring into camp without your assistance, boy. And the best of it is that it’s not much damaged. Very little repair will make her fit for sea again.”
This was indeed a find of immense importance, and the assembled party discussed the event in all its bearings till their mouths were partially50 stopped by pork and pancakes.
In the midst of this they were interrupted by the arrival of Big Swinton, George Blazer, and Grummidge with another find, which afterwards cost them much trouble and regret—namely, a couple of young lads, natives, whom they led into camp with their wrists tightly bound behind their backs.
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1
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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mariners
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| 海员，水手（mariner的复数形式） | |
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3
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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4
contention
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| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
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5
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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6
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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7
imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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8
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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9
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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10
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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11
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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12
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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13
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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14
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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15
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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16
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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19
diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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20
appeased
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| 安抚，抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
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21
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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22
missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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23
prophesy
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| v.预言；预示 | |
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24
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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25
missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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27
testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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28
legacy
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| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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29
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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30
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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31
precocious
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| adj.早熟的；较早显出的 | |
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32
linguist
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| n.语言学家；精通数种外国语言者 | |
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33
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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34
scarcity
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| n.缺乏，不足，萧条 | |
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35
isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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36
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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37
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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38
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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39
disciples
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| n.信徒( disciple的名词复数 )；门徒；耶稣的信徒；（尤指）耶稣十二门徒之一 | |
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40
slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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41
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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42
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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43
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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44
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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45
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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46
hawks
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| 鹰( hawk的名词复数 )； 鹰派人物，主战派人物 | |
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47
sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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48
porpoise
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| n.鼠海豚 | |
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49
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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50
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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