A touch of pity seemed to influence the pirate captain, for he added in a softer tone, I would have taken you with me, if it had been possible, and landed you on Ratinga. Perhaps that may yet be done. At any rate I will return to this islandwe shall meet again.
At last the madman spoke, in a harsh, grating tone,If we meet again, you shall die!
I will do my best to avoid that fate, returned Rosco, with a touch of sarcasm. Ho! lads! come down.
Three powerful seamen, who had stood at the hatchway awaiting the summons, descended, and at once laid hold of Zeppa. To their surprise, he made no resistance. To every one but the captain he behaved liked a lamb. Having been placed in the bottom of the boat alongside, with his hands still bound, they shoved off, and Rosco, taking the tiller, steered for the little creek.
The instant the keel touched the land two of the men jumped out and hauled the boat ashore. The others assisted Zeppa to land. They led him to a grassy bank, and bade him sit down. He obeyed meekly, and sat there gazing at the ground as if unable to comprehend what was being done. Rosco remained in the boat while a small box of biscuit was conveyed to the spot and left at the side of Zeppa.
Then, removing his bonds, the men re-embarked and returned to the schooner, which soon left that part of the island far astern. While it receded, the pirate captain kept his glass fixed on the wretched man whom he had thus forsaken. He saw that Zeppa never once turned his head seaward, but, after gazing in a state of abstraction at the ground for some time, rose and sauntered slowly inland. He did not appear to observe the small supply of provision left for his use. With his chin sunk upon his breast and his hands clasped behind him, he appeared to wander aimlessly forward until his tall figure was lost to view among the palm-groves that fringed the bottom of the mountain.
Leaving him there, we shall turn now to poor Orlando, who had been tossed so unceremoniously into the sea. Probably the reader is aware that the water of the southern seas is, in many parts, so much warmer than that of our northern climes, that people may remain in it for hours without being chilled. Hence natives of the coral islands are almost amphibious, and our young hero, having spent much of his life among these islands, could swim for the greater part of a day without becoming exhausted.
When, therefore, he caught hold of the life-preserver, as stated in the last chapter, he clung to it with some degree of confidence; but by degrees the depressing influence of continued darkness began to tell upon him, and he became less and less hopeful of deliverance. He bethought him of the great distance they had sailed from Ratinga before the mutiny broke out, and the utter impossibility of his being able to swim back. Then he thought of sharks, and a nervous tendency to draw up his legs and yell out affected him. But the thought of his father, and of the probable fate that awaited him, at length overbore all other considerations, and threw the poor boy into such a state of despair, that he clung to the life-preserver for a long time in a state of semi-stupor.
At last the day dawned faintly in the east and the glorious sun arose, and Orleys heart was cheered. From earliest infancy he had been taught to pray, so you may be sure he did not fail at this crisis in his young life. But no answer was returned to his prayer until a great part of the weary day had passed, and he had begun to look forward with dread to the approaching night.
As evening advanced, exhaustion began to creep over him, and more than once he felt himself slipping from his support under the influence of sleep. The struggle to retain consciousness now became terrible. He fought the battle in many ways. Sometimes he tried to shake himself up by shouting. Then he again had recourse to prayer, in a loud voice. Once he even attempted to sing, but his heart failed him, and at last he could do nothing but grasp the life-buoy and cling with all the tenacity of despair. And, oh! what thoughts of his mother came over him then! It seemed as if every loving act and look of hers was recalled to his mind. How he longed to clasp her once more in his arms and kiss her before he died!
While these thoughts were gradually taking the form of a hazy dream, he was rudely aroused by something grasping his hair.
Sharks, of course, leaped to his mind, and he struggled round with a wild gurgling shriek, for the grasp partially sank him. Then he felt himself violently dragged upwards, and his eyes encountered the dark face and glittering eye-balls of a savage.
Then was Orleys cry of fear turned into a shout of joy, for in that dark countenance he recognised the face of a friend. A canoe full of Ratinga natives had nearly run him down. They had been absent on an expedition, and were alike ignorant of the visit of the Free Rover and the departure of Antonio Zeppa.
Their astonishment at finding Orlando in such a plight was only equalled by their curiosity to know how he had come there; but they were compelled to exercise patience, for the poor boy, overcome by mingled joy and exhaustion, fell back in a swoon almost as soon as he was hauled out of the water.
Need we describe the state into which poor Madame Zeppa was thrown when Orlando returned to her?the strange mingling of grief and terrible anxiety about her husbands fate, with grateful joy at the restoration of her son? We think not!
Ebony, the faithful and sable servitor of the family, got hold of Orlando as soon as his poor mother would let him go, and hurried him off to a certain nook in the neighbouring palm-grove where he was wont to retire at times for meditation.
Yous quite sure yous fadder was not shooted? he began, in gasping anxiety, when he had forced the boy down on a grassy bank.
I think not, replied Orley, with a faint smile at the negros eagerness. But you must remember that I was almost unconscious from the blow I received, and scarce knew what was done.
But you no hear no shootin? persisted Ebony.
No; and if any shots had been fired, I feel certain I should have heard and remembered them.
Good! den ders a chance yous fadders alive, for if de no hab shooted him at first, de no hab de heart to shoot him arterwards. No, hed smile away der wikitness; de couldn do it.
Orlando was unable to derive much comfort from this sanguine view of the influence of his fathers smilebright and sweet though he knew it to beyet with the energy of youth he grasped at any straw of hope held out to him. All the more that Ebonys views were emphatically backed up by the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee, both of whom asserted that Zeppa had never failed in anything he had ever undertaken, and that it was impossible he should fail now. Thus encouraged, Orlando returned home to comfort his mother.
Chapter Three
But Orleys mother refused to be comforted. What she had heard or read of pirates induced her to believe that mercy must necessarily be entirely banished from their hearts; and her husband, she knew full well, would sooner die than join them. Therefore, she argued in her despair, Antonio must have perished.
But mother, said Orley, in a soothing tone, you must remember that Rosco and his men are not regular pirates. I only heard them shout Hoist the black flag! when they seized me; but that does not prove that they did hoist it, or that Rosco agreed to do so. They were only mutineers, you see, and not hardened villains.
Hardened enough when they threw you overboard, my son, returned poor little Madame Zeppa, with a sob.
True; but that was in the hurry of the rising, and without orders from Rosco, as far as I know. Besides, mother, have you not often told me that God will never forsake His own children? Surely, then, He will not forsake father.
True; but that was in the hurry of the rising, and without orders from Rosco, as far as I know. Besides, mother, have you not often told me that God will never forsake His own children? Surely, then, He will not forsake father.
No, oh, no! the good Lord will never forsake him. He will certainly deliver his soul from sin and death; but God sometimes sees fit to allow the bodies of His children to suffer and die. It may be so now.
Yes, mother, but also it may not be so now. Let us take a hopeful view, and do what we can to find outto findto
Poor Orlando broke down here, laid his head on his little mothers shoulder, and wept for his mind had suddenly run itself blank. What was there to find out? what could they do? Nothing, absolutely nothing, except pray; and they did that fervently.
Then Orley went out to consult again with his friends. Alas! there was no other outlet for their grief, save prayer and consultation, for action was, in the circumstances, impossible.
Bin tink, tinkin horroble hard all last night. Couldn sleep a wink, said Ebony one day, some weeks after the return of Orlando, when, according to custom, he and the native missionary and his wife, with the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee, assembled for a consultation in the palm-grove.
What have you been thinking about? asked Orley.
Yous fadder, ob course.
Of course, repeated the boy, but what have you been thinking about himanything new?
Not zackly noo, returned the negro, with a very earnest look, but ole toughts turned in a noo drection. Sit down, Tomeo, an I will tell youan try to forgit yous hat if possble. Its xtroarnar good lookin, amost as much good lookin as yousself, so you got no occashin to be always tinkin about it.
We may remark here that both Tomeo and Buttchee understood a little of Ebonys English, though they could not speak a word. The reader will understand, therefore, that when we put words in their mouths we only give a free translation of their language. In like manner Ebony understood a little of the Ratinga tongue, but could not speak much of it, and Waroonga, who himself spoke uncommonly bad, though fluent, English, interpreted when necessary.
Well, you mus know, said Ebony, dat jus before I goes to bed las night I heat a little too much supper
You doos that every night interrupted Buttchee, with a grin.
Ebony ignored the interruption, and continued
So, you see, I dream berry badmos drefful dreams! Yes. Well, what I dream was dis. I see Massa Zeppa forced by de pierits to walk de plank
Whats that? asked Tomeo.
Waroonga looked at Ebony for an explanation, and then translated
When pirates want to kill people they sometimes tie up their eyes, and bind their hands, and make them walk along a plank stickin over the ships side, till they fall off the end of it into the sea, where they are left to drown.
Tomeo looked at Buttchee with a grin and nodded, as though he thought the mode of execution rather a good one; then, recollecting suddenly that any mode of slaying innocent men was inconsistent with his character as a convert to Christianity, he cast a glance of awful solemnity at Waroonga, and tried to look penitent.
Well, hims walk de plank like a man, continued Ebony, hims dood eberyting like a man. An wen hims topple into de sea hims give sitch a most awful wriggle dat his bonds busted. But hims berry sly, was Massa Zeppaamazin sly. I tought him lie ons back zif him be dead. Jest move a leetle to look like drownin, an wen he long way astern, he slew round, off wid de hanky fro hims eyes an larf to hisseff like one oclock. Den he swumd to a island an git ashore, and climb up de rocks, an sit downanandats all.
What! be that all? asked Waroonga.
Dats all, repeated the negro. I no dream no more arter dat, cause I was woked by a fly what hab hoed up my nose, an kep bumblin in it like steam inside ob a kittle.
Well, Ebony, asked Orlando, what conclusions do you draw from that dream?
I dint draw no kungklooshins from it cos I dunno what de are. Nebber hab notin to do wid what I don understan. But what I was tink was dis: in de days ob old, some time after Adam an Eve was born, a sartin king, called Fair-ho, or some sitch name (Waroonga there knows all about him) had a dream, that siven swine came up
Kine, Ebonynot swine, interrupted the missionary, with a good-humoured smile, which is all the same as cows.
Well, den, siven fat cows come up out ob a ribber, an hoed slap at siven thin cowsmisrable skinny critters that
All wrong, Ebony, again interrupted Waroonga. Its just the other way. The skinny ones went at the fat ones.
Well, ob course you must be right, returned the negro, humbly, though Id have spected it was tother way. But I spose the skinny ones was so hungry that the fat ones hadnt a chance wid em. However, it dont matter. What I was goin to say was that a good man, called Joseph, went to Fair-ho an splained all his dream to him. Now, if Joseph could do dat, why shouldnt Waroonga splain my dream to me?
Because Is not Joseph, Ebony, an youre not Pharoah, returned Waroonga promptly.
Tomeo and Buttchee turned looks of inquiry on Ebony as if to say, What dye say to that, you nigger? But the nigger said nothing for some moments. He seemed not to have viewed the matter in that light.
Well, I donno, he said at last with a deep sigh, I tought Id get hold ob suthin when I kitch hold ob dat dream. But, I do blieve myself, dat part of it means dat Zeppa hims git on an island, anyhow.
If my dear father got upon anything, it must have been an island, said Orlando sadly.
Thats troo, remarked Mrs Waroonga. Keep your mouth shut, my dalin.
She referred to her brown baby, which she placed with some violence on her knee. It is well to remark here that little Zariffa had been supplied with a coal-scuttle bonnet proportioned to her size, made by her mother out of native straw, and that she did not wear anything else in the way of costume.
After Ebonys dream had been thoroughly discussed in all its bearings, and viewed in every possible point of relation to their great sorrow, the council adjourned, as usual, to various duties about the flourishing little village, and Orlando went to lay the result before his mother, who, although she could not believe these deliberations would end in anything practical, found it impossible, nevertheless, to resist the influence of so much faith and strong hopefulness, so that she was somewhat comforted, as it were, in spite of herself. Time flew by, and upwards of three years elapsed without anything happening at Ratinga Island to throw a single ray of light on the fate of the lost man.
During that period, however, much that was interesting and encouraging occurred to comfort the heart of the native missionary and the sorrowing Marie Zeppa. In the first place they received several visits from the mission-vessel, with small supplies of such luxuries as sugar, tea, and coffee for the body, and, for the spirit, a few bundles of tracts and books printed in the native tongue, among which, you may be sure, were many copies of the Book of books, the blessed Bible. Carpenters and smiths tools were also brought to them, so that they not only carried on their house-building and other operations with greater ease than heretofore, but even essayed the building of small boats with considerable success.