CHAPTER L.

CHAPTER L.

All was so still around us, and our pinnace was so completely hidden
with its canopy of verdure, that I could not help regretting that I had
not accompanied my sons. It was now too late, but my steps
involuntarily turned to the road I had seen them take, Ernest remaining
on the rocks in search of natural curiosities; but I was suddenly
recalled by a cry from Ernest--

"Father, a canoe! a canoe!"

"Alas! is it not ours?" I said, rushing to the shore, where, indeed, I
saw beyond the reefs a canoe, floating lightly, apparently filled with
the islanders, easy to distinguish from their dark complexion. This
canoe did not resemble ours; it was longer, narrower, and seemed to be
composed of long strips of bark, quite rough, tied together at each end,
which gave somewhat of a graceful form to it, though it evidently
belonged to the infancy of the art of navigation. It is almost
inconceivable how these frail barks resist the slightest storm; but
these islanders swim so well, that even if the canoe fills, they jump
out, empty it, and take their places again. When landed, one or two men
take up the canoe and carry it to their habitation. This, however,
appeared to be provided with out-riggers, to preserve the equilibrium,
and six savages, with a sort of oars, made it fly like the wind. When it
passed the part of the island where we were, we hailed it as loudly as
we could; the savages answered by frightful cries, but showed no
intention of approaching us or entering the bay; on the contrary, they
went on with great rapidity, continuing their cries. I followed them
with my eyes as far as I could in speechless emotion; for either my
fancy deceived me, or I faintly distinguished a form of fairer
complexion than the dark-hued beings who surrounded him--features or
dress I could not see; on the whole, it was a vague impression, that I
trembled alike to believe or to doubt. Ernest, more active than I, had
climbed a sand-bank, and, with his telescope, had commanded a better
view of the canoe. He watched it round a point of land, and then came
down almost as much agitated as myself. I ran to him and said--

"Ernest, was it your mother?"

"No, papa; I am certain it was not my mother," said he. "Neither was it
Francis."

Here he was silent: a cold shuddering came over me.

"Why are you silent?" said I; "what do you think?"

"Indeed, papa, I could distinguish nothing," said he, "even with the
telescope, they passed so quickly. Would that it were my mother and
brother, we should then be sure they were living, and might follow them.
But a thought strikes me: let us free the pinnace, and sail after the
canoe. We can go quicker than they with the sail; we shall overtake them
behind the cape, and then we shall at least be satisfied."

I hesitated, lest my sons should come back; but Ernest represented to me
that we were only fulfilling the wishes of Fritz; besides, we should
return in a short time; he added, that he would soon disencumber
the pinnace.

"Soon," cried I, "when we have been at least two hours in covering it."

"Yes," said he; "but we had a dozen journeys to make to the trees then;
I will have it ready in less than half an hour."

I assisted him as actively as I could, though not with good heart, for I
was uneasy about abandoning my sons. I would have given worlds to see
them arrive before our departure; to have their assistance, which was of
much consequence in the pinnace, and to know they were safe. I often
left off my work to take a glance into the interior of the island,
hoping to see them. Frequently I mistook the trees in the twilight,
which was now coming on, for moving objects. At last, I was not
deceived, I saw distinctly a figure walking rapidly.

"They are here!" I cried, running forward, followed by Ernest; and we
soon saw a dark-coloured figure approaching. I concluded it was a
savage, and, though disappointed, was not alarmed, as he was alone. I
stopped, and begged Ernest to recollect all the words he had met with in
his books, of the language of the savages. The black man approached; and
conceive my surprise when I heard him cry, in my own language--

"Don't be alarmed, father, it is I, your son Fritz."

"Is it possible," said I; "can I believe it? and Jack? What have you
done with my Jack? Where is he? Speak...."

Ernest did not ask. Alas! he knew too well; he had seen with his
telescope that it was his dear brother Jack that was in the canoe with
the savages; but he had not dared to tell me. I was in agony. Fritz,
harassed with fatigue, and overwhelmed with grief, sunk down on
the ground.

"Oh father!" said he, sobbing, "I dread to appear before you without my
brother! I have lost him. Can you ever forgive your unfortunate Fritz?"

"Oh yes, yes; we are all equally unfortunate," cried I, sinking down
beside my son, while Ernest seated himself on the other side to support
me. I then besought Fritz to tell me if the savages had murdered my dear
boy. He assured me that he was not killed, but carried off by the
savages; still he hoped he was safe. Ernest then told me he had seen him
seated in the canoe, apparently without clothes, but not stained black
as Fritz was.

"I earnestly wish he had been," said Fritz; to that I attribute my
escape. But I am truly thankful to God that you have seen him, Ernest.
"Which way have the monsters gone?"

Ernest pointed out the cape, and Fritz was anxious that we should embark
without delay, and endeavour to snatch him from them.

"And have you learned nothing of your mother and Francis?" said I.

"Alas! nothing," said he; "though I think I recognized a handkerchief,
belonging to dear mamma, on the head of a savage. I will tell you all my
adventure as we go. You forgive me, dear father?"

"Yes, my dear son," said I; "I forgive and pity you; but are you sure my
wife and Francis are not on the island?"

"Quite sure," said he. "In fact the island is entirely uninhabited;
there is no fresh water, nor game, and no quadrupeds whatever, but rats
and kangaroos; but plenty of fruit. I have filled my bag with
bread-fuit, which is all we shall need: let us go."

We worked so hard, that in a quarter of an hour the branches were
removed, and the pinnace ready to receive us. The wind was favourable
for carrying us towards the cape the savages had turned; we hoisted our
sail, I took my place at the helm; the sea was calm, and the moon
lighted our way. After recommending ourselves to the protection of God,
I desired Fritz to commence his melancholy recital.

"It will be melancholy, indeed," said the poor boy, weeping; "if we do
not find my dear Jack, I shall never forgive myself for not having
stained his skin before my own; then he should have been with you now--"

"But I have you, my dear son, to console your father," said I. "I can do
nothing myself, in my sorrow. I depend on you, my two eldest, to restore
to me what I have lost. Go on, Fritz."

"We went on," continued he, "with courage and hope; and as we proceeded,
we felt that you were right in saying we ought not to judge of the
island by the borders. You can form no idea of the fertility of the
island, or of the beauty of the trees and shrubs we met with at every
step, quite unknown to me; some were covered with fragrant flowers,
others with tempting fruits; which, however, we did not venture to
taste, as we had not Knips to try them."

"Did you see any monkeys?" asked Ernest.

"Not one," replied his brother, "to the great vexation of Jack; but we
saw parrots, and all sorts of birds of the most splendid plumage. Whilst
we were remarking these creatures, I did not neglect to look carefully
about for any trace that might aid our search. I saw no hut, no sort of
dwelling, nor anything that could indicate that the island was
inhabited, and not the slightest appearance of fresh water; and we
should have been tormented with thirst if we had not found some
cocoa-nuts containing milk, and an acid fruit, full of juice, which we
have in our own island--Ernest calls it the _carambolier_; we quenched
our thirst with this, as well as with the plant, which we also have, and
which contains water in the stem. The country is flat and open, and its
beautiful trees stand at such a distance from each other, that no one
could hide amongst them. But if we found no dwellings, we often
discovered traces of the savages,--extinguished fires, remains of
kangaroos and of fish, cocoa-nut shells, and even entire nuts, which we
secured for ourselves; we remarked, also, footmarks on the sand. We both
wished anxiously to meet with a savage, that we might endeavour to make
him comprehend, by signs, whom we were in search of, hoping that natural
affection might have some influence even with these untaught creatures.
I was only fearful that my dress and the colour of my skin might terrify
them. In the mean time, Jack, with his usual rashness, had climbed to
the summit of one of the tallest trees, and suddenly cried out, 'Fritz,
prepare your signs, the savages are landing. Oh! what black ugly
creatures they are, and nearly naked! you ought to dress yourself like
them, to make friends with them. You can stain your skin with these,'
throwing me down branches of a sort of fruit of a dark purple colour,
large as a plum, with a skin like the mulberry. 'I have been tasting
them, they are very nauseous, and they have stained my fingers black;
rub yourself well with the juice of this fruit, and you will be a
perfect savage,'

"I agreed immediately. He descended from the tree while I undressed, and
with his assistance I stained myself from head to foot, as you see me;
but don't be alarmed, a single dip in the sea will make me a European
again. The good-natured Jack then helped to dress me in a sort of tunic
made of large leaves, and laughed heartily when he looked at me, calling
me _Omnibou_, of whom he had seen a picture, which he declared I exactly
resembled. I then wished to disguise him in the same way, but he would
not consent; he declared that, when he met with mamma and Francis, he
should fly to embrace them, and that he should alarm and disgust them in
such a costume. He said I could protect him if the savages wished to
devour him: they were now at hand, and we went forward, Jack following
me with my bundle of clothes under his arm. I had slung my kangaroo-skin
bag of powder and provision on my shoulders, and I was glad to see that
most of the savages wore the skin of that animal, for the most part
spread out like a mantle over their shoulders; few of them had other
clothes, excepting one, who appeared to be the chief, and had a tunic of
green rushes, neatly woven. I tried to recollect all the words of savage
language I could, but very few occurred to me. I said at first '_tayo,
tayo_'. I don't know whether they comprehended me, but they paid me
great attention, evidently taking me for a savage; only one of them
wished to seize my gun; but I held it firmly, and on the chief speaking
a word to him, he drew back. They spoke very rapidly, and I saw by their
looks they spoke about us; they looked incessantly at Jack, repeating,
'_To maiti tata_.' Jack imitated all their motions, and made some
grimaces which seemed to amuse them. I tried in vain to attract their
attention. I had observed a handkerchief twisted round the head of him
who seemed the chief, that reminded me much of the one my mother usually
wore. I approached him, touched the handkerchief, saying expressively,
'_Metoua aîné mère, et tata frère_;' I added, pointing to the sea, '_pay
canot_.' But, alas! they did not appear to understand my words. The
chief thought I wished to rob him of his handkerchief, and repelled me
roughly. I then wished to retire, and I told Jack to follow me; but four
islanders seized him, opened his waistcoat and shirt, and cried out
together, '_Alea téa tata_.' In an instant he was stripped, and his
clothes and mine were put on in a strange fashion by the savages. Jack,
mimicking all their contortions, recovered his shirt from one of them,
put it on, and began to dance, calling on me to do the same, and, in a
tone as if singing, repeated, 'Make your escape, Fritz, while I am
amusing them; I will then run off and join you very soon,' As if I could
for a moment think of leaving him in the hands of these barbarians!
However, I recollected at that moment the bag you had given me of toys
and trinkets; we had thoughtlessly left it under the great tree where I
had undressed. I told Jack, in the same tone, I would fetch it, if he
could amuse the savages till I returned, which he might be certain would
be very soon. I ran off with all speed, and without opposition arrived
at the tree, found my bag well guarded, indeed, father; for what was my
surprise to find our two faithful dogs, Turk and Flora, sitting
over it."

"Flora!" cried I, "she accompanied my dear wife and child into their
captivity; they must be in this island--why have we left it!"

"My dear father," continued Fritz, "depend on it, they are not there;
but I feel convinced that the wretches who have carried off Jack, hold
dear mamma and Francis in captivity; therefore we must, at all events,
pursue them. The meeting between Flora and me was truly joyful, for I
was now convinced that my mother and Francis were not far off, though
certainly not on the same island, or their attached friend would not
have quitted them. I concluded that the chief who had taken my mamma's
handkerchief had also taken her dog, and brought her on this excursion,
and that she had here met with her friend Turk, who had rambled from us.

"After caressing Flora, and taking up my bag, I ran off full speed to
the spot where my dear Jack was trying to divert the barbarians. As I
approached, I heard cries,--not the noisy laughter of the savages, but
cries of distress from my beloved brother,--cries for help, addressed to
me. I did not walk--I flew till I reached the spot, and I then saw him
bound with a sort of strong cord, made of gut; his hands were fastened
behind his back, his legs tied together, and these cruel men were
carrying him towards their canoe, while he was crying out, 'Fritz,
Fritz, where are you?' I threw myself desperately on the six men who
were bearing him off. In the struggle, my gun, which I held in my hand,
caught something, and accidentally went off, and--O, father, it was my
own dear Jack that I wounded! I cannot tell how I survived his cry of
'You have killed me!' And when I saw his blood flow, my senses forsook
me, and I fainted. When I recovered, I was alone; they had carried him
off. I rose, and following the traces of his blood, arrived fortunately
at the shore just as they were embarking. God permitted me to see him
again, supported by one of the savages, and even to hear his feeble
voice cry, 'Console yourself, Fritz, I am not dead; I am only wounded in
the shoulder; it is not your fault; go, my kind brother, as quick as
possible to papa, and you will both'--the canoe sailed away so swiftly,
that I heard no more; but I understood the rest--'_you will both come
and rescue me_.' But will there be time? Will they dress his wound? Oh!
father, what have I done! Can you forgive me?"

Overwhelmed with grief, I could only hold out my hand to my poor boy,
and assure him I could not possibly blame him for this distressing
accident.

Ernest, though greatly afflicted, endeavoured to console his brother; he
told him a wound in the shoulder was not dangerous, and the savages
certainly intended to dress his wound, or they would have left him to
die. Fritz, somewhat comforted, begged me to allow him to bathe, to
divest himself of the colouring, which was now become odious to him, as
being that of these ruthless barbarians. I was reluctant to consent; I
thought it might still be useful, in gaining access to the savages; but
he was certain they would recognize him in that disguise as the bearer
of _the thunder_, and would distrust him. I now recollected to ask what
had become of his gun, and was sorry to learn that they had carried it
off whilst he lay insensible; he himself considered that it would be
useless to them, as they had fortunately left him the bag of ammunition.
Ernest, however, regretted the loss to ourselves, this being the third
we had lost--the one we had left in the canoe being also in the
possession of the savages. The dogs we missed, too, and Fritz could give
no account of them; we concluded they had either followed the savages,
or were still in the island. This was another severe sorrow; it seemed
as if every sort of misfortune was poured out upon us. I rested on the
shoulder of Ernest in my anguish. Fritz took advantage of my silence,
and leaped out of the pinnace to have a bath. I was alarmed at first;
but he was such an excellent swimmer, and the sea was so calm, that I
soon abandoned my fears for him.

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