In a retired2 part of the ship’s cabin there are two savage3 nobles who do not take things quite as gallantly as the ship herself. These are our friends Tomeo and Buttchee of Ratinga. Each is seated on the cabin floor with his back against the bulkhead, an expression of woe-begone desolation on his visage, his black legs apart, and a ship’s bucket between them. It were bad taste to be too particular as to details here!
On quitting Ratinga, Tomeo and his brother chief had said that nothing would rejoice their hearts so much as to go to sea. Their wish was gratified, and, not long afterwards, they said that nothing could rejoice their hearts so much as to get back to land! Such is the contradictoriness4 of human nature.
There was a stiffish breeze blowing, as one of the man-of-war’s-men expressed it and “a nasty sea on”—he did not say on what. There must have been something nasty, also, on Tomeo’s stomach, from the violent way in which he sought to get rid of it at times—without success.
“Oh! Buttchee, my brother,” said Tomeo (of course in his native tongue), “many years have passed over my head, a few white streaks5 begin to—to—” He paused abruptly6, and eyed the bucket as if with an intention.
“To appear,” he continued with a short sigh; “also, I have seen many wars and suffered much from many wounds as you—you—ha!—you know, Buttchee, my brother, but of all the—”
He became silent again—suddenly.
“Why does my brother p–pause?” asked Buttchee, in a meek7 voice—as of one who had suffered severely8 in life’s pilgrimage.
There was no occasion for Tomeo to offer a verbal reply.
After a time Buttchee raised his head and wiped his eyes, in which were many tears—but not of sorrow.
“Tomeo,” said he, “was it worth our while to forsake9 wives and children, and church, and hymns10, and taro11 fields, and home for th–this?”
“We did not leave for this,” replied Tomeo, with some acerbity12, for he experienced a temporary sensation of feeling better at the moment; “we left all for the sake of assisting our friends in—there! it comes—it—”
He said no more, and both chiefs relapsed into silence—gazing the while at the buckets with undue13 interest.
They were interrupted by the sudden entrance of Ebony.
“Come, you yaller-cheeked chiefs; you’s die if you no make a heffort. Come on deck, breeve de fresh air. Git up a happetite. Go in for salt pork, plum duff, and lop-scouse, an’ you’ll git well ’fore you kin14 say Jack15 Rubinson.”
“We cannot move,” said Tomeo and Buttchee together, “because we—w—” Together they ceased giving the reason—it was not necessary!
“Oh dear!” said Ebony, opening his great eyes to their widest. “You no kin lib long at dat rate. Better die on deck if you mus’ die; more heasy for you to breeve up dar, an’ more comf’rable to fro you overboard w’en you’s got it over.”
With this cheering remark the worthy17 negro, seizing the chiefs each by a hand, half constrained18, half assisted them to rise, and helped them to stagger to the quarter-deck, where they were greeted by Orlando, Captain Fitzgerald, Waroonga, and the missionary19.
“Come, that’s right,” cried the captain, shaking the two melancholy20 chiefs by the hand, “glad to see you plucking up courage. Tell them, Mr Zeppa, that we shall probably be at Sugar-loaf Island to-morrow, or next day.”
The two unfortunates were visibly cheered by the assurance. To do them justice, they had not quite given way to sea-sickness until then, for the weather had been moderately calm, but the nasty sea and stiff breeze had proved too much for them.
“Are you sure we shall find the island so soon?” asked Orlando of the captain in a low, earnest tone, for the poor youth’s excitement and anxiety deepened as they drew near to the place where his father might possibly be found—at the same time a strange, shrinking dread21 of what they might find made him almost wish for delay.
“I am not sure, of course,” returned the captain, “but if my information is correct, there is every probability that we shall find it to-morrow.”
“I hopes we shall,” remarked Waroonga. “It would be a grand blessing22 if the Lord will gif us the island and your father in same day.”
“Mos’ too good to be true,” observed Ebony, who was a privileged individual on board, owing very much to his good-humoured eccentricity23. “But surely you not spec’s de niggers to tumbil down at yous feet all at wance, Massa Waroonga?”
“Oh no, not at once. The day of miracle have pass,” returned the missionary. “We mus’ use the means, and then, has we not the promise that our work shall not be in vain?”
Next day about noon the Sugar-loaf mountain rose out of the sea like a great pillar of hope to Orlando, as well as to the missionary. Captain Fitzgerald sailed close in, sweeping24 the mountain side with his telescope as he advanced until close under the cliffs, when he lay-to and held a consultation25 with his passengers.
“I see no habitations of any kind,” he said, “nor any sign of the presence of man, but I have heard that the native villages lie at the lower side of the island. Now, the question is, whether would it suit your purposes best to land an armed party here, and cross over to the villages, or to sail round the island, drop anchor in the most convenient bay, and land a party there?”
Orlando, to whom this was more directly addressed, turned to the missionary.
“What think you, Waroonga? You know native thought and feeling best.”
“I would not land armed party at all,” answered Waroonga. “But Cappin Fitzgald know his own business most. What he thinks?”
“My business and yours are so mingled26,” returned the captain, “that I look to you for advice. My chief duty is to obtain information as to the whereabouts of the pirate vessel27, and I expect that such information will be got more readily through you, Waroonga, than any one else, for, besides being able to speak the native language, you can probably approach the savages28 more easily than I can.”
“They are not savages,” returned Waroonga quietly, “they are God’s ignorant children. I have seen worse men than South sea islanders with white faces an’ soft clothin’ who had not the excuse of ignorance.”
“Nay, my good sir,” said the captain, “we will not quarrel about terms. Whatever else these ‘ignorant children’ may be, I know that they are brave and warlike, and I shall gladly listen to your advice as to landing.”
“If you wish to go to them in peace, do not go to them with arms,” said Waroonga.
“Surely you would not advise me to send an unarmed party among armed sav—children?” returned the captain, with a look of surprise, while Orlando regarded his friend with mingled amusement and curiosity.
“No. You best send no party at all. Jis’ go round the island, put down angker, an’ leave the rest to me.”
“But what do you propose to do?” asked the captain.
“Swum to shore with Bibil.”
Orlando laughed, for he now understood the missionary’s plan, and in a few words described the method by which Waroonga had subdued29 the natives of Ratinga.
“You see, by this plan,” he continued, “nothing is presented to the natives which they will be tempted30 to steal, and if they are very warlike or fierce, Waroonga’s refusal to fight reduces them to a state of quiet readiness to hear, which is all that we want. Waroonga’s tongue does the rest.”
“With God’s Holy Spirit and the Word,” interposed the missionary.
“True, that is understood,” said Orlando.
“That is not always understood,” returned Waroonga.
“The plan does not seem to me a very good one,” said Captain Fitzgerald thoughtfully. “I can have no doubt that it has succeeded in time past, and may probably succeed again, but you cannot expect that the natives, even if disposed to be peaceful, will accept your message at once. It may take weeks, perhaps months, before you get them to believe the gospel, so as to permit of my men going ashore31 unarmed, and in the meantime, while you are engaged in this effort, what am I to be doing?”
“Wait God’s time,” answered Waroonga simply. “But time presses. The pirate vessel, where-ever it may be, is escaping me,” said the captain, unable to repress a smile. “However, I will at all events let you make the trial and await the result; reminding you, however, that you will run considerable risk, and that you must be prepared to accept the consequences of your rather reckless proceedings32.”
“I hope, Waroonga,” said Orlando, when the captain left them to give orders as to the course of the ship, “that you will let me share this risk with you?”
“It will be wiser not. You are a strong man, an’ sometimes fierce to behold33. They will want to fight you; then up go your blood, an’ you will want to fight them.”
“No, indeed, I won’t,” said Orlando earnestly.
“I will promise to go in the spirit of a missionary. You know how anxious I am to get news of my dear father. How could you expect me to remain idle on board this vessel, when my soul is so troubled? You may depend on me, Waroonga. I will do exactly as you bid me, and will place myself peaceably in the power of natives—leaving the result, as you advise, to God.”
The young man’s tone was so earnest, and withal so humble34, that Waroonga could not help acceding35 to his request.
“Well, well,” said Captain Fitzgerald, when he heard of it; “you seem both to be bent36 on making martyrs37 of yourselves, but I will offer no opposition38. All I can say is that I shall have my guns in readiness, and if I see anything like foul39 play, I’ll bombard the place, and land an armed force to do what I can for you.”
Soon the frigate40 came in sight of Ongoloo’s village, ran close in, brought up in a sheltered bay, and lowered a boat while the natives crowded the beach in vast numbers, uttering fierce cries, brandishing41 clubs and spears, and making other warlike demonstrations—for these poor people had been more than once visited by so-called merchant ships—the crews of which had carried off some of them by force.
“We will not let a living man touch our shore,” said Ongoloo to Wapoota, who chanced to be near his leader, when he marshalled his men.
“Oh! yes, we will, chief,” replied the brown humorist. “We will let some of them touch it, and then we will take them up carefully, and have them baked. A long-pig supper will do us good. The rest of them we will drive back to their big canoe.”
By the term “long-pig” Wapoota referred to the resemblance that a naked white man when prepared for roasting bears to an ordinary pig.
A grim smile lit up Ongoloo’s swarthy visage as he replied—
“Yes, we will permit a few fat ones to land. The rest shall die, for white men are thieves. They deceived us last time. They shall never deceive us again.”
As this remark might have been meant for a covert42 reference to his own thievish tendencies, Wapoota restrained his somewhat ghastly humour, while the chief continued his arrangements for repelling43 the invaders44.
Meanwhile, these invaders were getting into the boat.
“What! you’s not goin’ widout me?” exclaimed Ebony, as one of the sailors thrust him aside from the gangway.
“I fear we are,” said Orlando, as he was about to descend45 the vessel’s side. “It was as much as I could do to get Waroonga to agree to let me go with him.”
“But dis yar nigger kin die in a good cause as well as you, massa,” said Ebony, in a tone of entreaty46 so earnest that the men standing47 near could not help laughing.
“Now then, make haste,” sang out the officer in charge of the boat.
Orlando descended48, and the negro, turning away with a deeply injured expression, walked majestically49 to the stern to watch the boat.
Waroonga had prepared himself for the enterprise by stripping off every article of clothing save a linen50 cloth round his loins, and he carried nothing whatever with him except a small copy of God’s Word printed in the language of the islanders. This, as the boat drew near to shore, he fastened on his head, among the bushy curls of his crisp black hair, as in a nest.
Orlando had clothed himself in a pair of patched old canvas trousers, and a much worn unattractive cotton shirt.
“Stop now,” said the missionary, when the boat was about five or six hundred yards from the beach. “Are you ready?”
“Ready,” said Orlando.
“Then come.”
He dropped quietly over the side and swam towards the shore. Orlando, following his example, was alongside of him in a few seconds.
Both men were expert and rapid swimmers. The natives watched them in absolute silence and open-mouthed surprise.
A few minutes sufficed to carry the swimmers to the beach.
“Have your rifles handy, lads,” said the officer in charge of the boat to his men.
“Stand by,” said the captain of the “Furious” to the men at the guns.
But these precautions were unnecessary, for when the swimmers landed and walked up the beach they were seen by the man-of-war’s-men to shake hands with the chief of the savages, and, after what appeared to be a brief palaver51, to rub noses with him. Then the entire host turned and led the visitors towards the village.
With a heart almost bursting from the combined effects of disappointment, humiliation52, and grief, poor Ebony stood at the stern of the man-of-war, his arms crossed upon his brawny53 chest, and his great eyes swimming in irrepressible tears, a monstrous54 bead55 of which would every now and then overflow56 its banks and roll down his sable57 cheek.
Suddenly the heart-stricken negro clasped his hands together, bowed his head, and dropped into the sea!
The captain, who had seen him take the plunge58, leaped to the stern, and saw him rise from the water, blow like a grampus, and strike out for land with the steady vigour59 of a gigantic frog.
“Pick him up!” shouted the captain to the boat, which was by that time returning to the ship.
“Ay, ay, sir,” was the prompt reply.
The boat was making straight for the negro and he for it. Neither diverged60 from the straight course.
“Two of you in the bow, there, get ready to haul him in,” said the officer.
Two sturdy sailors drew in their oars61, got up, and leaned over the bow with outstretched arms. Ebony looked at them, bestowed62 on them a tremendous grin, and went down with the oily ease of a northern seal!
When next seen he was full a hundred yards astern of the boat, still heading steadily63 for the shore.
“Let him go!” shouted the captain.
“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the obedient officer.
And Ebony went!
Meanwhile our missionary, having told the wondering savages that he brought them good news, was conducted with his companion to Ongoloo’s hut. But it was plain that the good news referred to, and even Waroonga himself, had not nearly so great an effect on them as the sight of Orlando, at whom they gazed with an expression half of fear and half of awe64 which surprised him exceedingly.
“Your story is not new to us,” said Ongoloo, addressing the missionary, but gazing at Orlando, “it comes to us like an old song.”
“How so?” exclaimed Waroonga, “has any one been here before with the grand and sweet story of Jesus and His love.”
The reply of the savage chief was strangely anticipated and checked at that moment by a burst of childish voices singing one of the beautiful hymns with which the inhabitants of Ratinga had long been familiar. As the voices swelled65 in a chorus, which distance softened66 into fairy-like strains, the missionary and his companion sat entranced and bewildered, while the natives looked pleased, and appeared to enjoy their perplexity.
“Our little ones,” said Ongoloo, after a few minutes’ pause, “are amusing themselves with singing. They often do that.”
As he spoke67 the party were startled and surprised by the sudden appearance of Ebony, who quietly stalked into the circle and seated himself beside the missionary with the guilty yet defiant68 air of a man who knows that he has done wrong, but is resolved at all hazards to have his way. Considering the turn that affairs had taken, neither Orlando nor Waroonga were sorry to see him.
“This is a friend,” said the latter in explanation, laying his hand on the negro’s shoulder. “But tell me, chief, we are impatient for to know, where learned you that song?”
“From one who is mad,” replied the chief still gazing earnestly at Orlando.
“Mad!” repeated the youth, starting up and trembling with excitement—“how know you that? Who—where is he? Ask him, Waroonga.”
The explanation that followed left no doubt on Orlando’s mind that his father was bereft69 of reason, and wandering in the neighbouring mountain.
If there had been any doubt, it would have been swept away by the chief, who quietly said, “the madman is your father!”
“How does he know that Waroonga?”
“I know, because there is no difference between you, except years—and—”
He did not finish the sentence, but touched his forehead solemnly with his finger.
“Does he dwell alone in the mountains?” asked Orlando.
“Yes, alone. He lets no one approach him,” answered Ongoloo.
“Now, Waroonga,” said Orlando, “our prayers have been heard, and—at least partly—answered. But we must proceed with caution. You must return on board and tell Captain Fitzgerald that I go to search for my father alone.”
“Wid the help ob dis yar nigger,” interposed Ebony.
“Tell him on no account to send men in search of me,” continued Orlando, paying no attention to the interruption; “and in the meantime, you know how to explain my purpose to the natives. Adieu.”
Rising quickly, he left the assembly and, followed modestly but closely by the unconquerable negro, set off with rapid strides towards the mountains.
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1
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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contradictoriness
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| 矛盾性 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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forsake
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| vt.遗弃，抛弃；舍弃，放弃 | |
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hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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taro
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| n.芋，芋头 | |
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acerbity
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| n.涩，酸，刻薄 | |
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undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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eccentricity
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| n.古怪，反常，怪癖 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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acceding
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| v.（正式）加入( accede的现在分词 )；答应；（通过财产的添附而）增加；开始任职 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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frigate
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| n.护航舰，大型驱逐舰 | |
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brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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repelling
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| v.击退( repel的现在分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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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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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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palaver
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| adj.壮丽堂皇的；n.废话，空话 | |
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52
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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bead
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| n.念珠；(pl.)珠子项链；水珠 | |
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overflow
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| v.(使)外溢，(使)溢出；溢出，流出，漫出 | |
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sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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58
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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59
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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60
diverged
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| 分开( diverge的过去式和过去分词 )； 偏离； 分歧； 分道扬镳 | |
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61
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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62
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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64
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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65
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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66
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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67
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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68
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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69
bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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