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Blown to Bits by Robert Michael Ballantyne

R >> Robert Michael Ballantyne >> Blown to Bits




"Ay--at least he was king a few years ago when I passed this way and had
occasion to land to replace a tops'l yard that had been carried away."

"Then you won't arrive as a stranger?"

"I should think not," returned the captain, getting up and gazing
steadily at the _atoll_ or group of islets enclosed within a coral ring
which they were gradually approaching.

Night had descended, however, and the gale had decreased almost to a
calm, ere they steered through the narrow channel--or what we may call a
broken part of the ring--which led to the calm lagoon inside. Nigel Roy
leaned over the bow, watching with profound attention the numerous
phosphorescent fish and eel-like creatures which darted hither and
thither like streaks of silver from beneath their advancing keel. He had
enough of the naturalist in him to arouse in his mind keen interest in
the habits and action of the animal life around him, and these denizens
of the coral-groves were as new to him as their appearance was
unexpected.

"You'll find 'em very kind and hospitable, lad," said the captain to his
son.

"What, the fish?"

"No, the inhabitants. Port--port--steady!"

"Steady it is!" responded the man at the wheel.

"Let go!" shouted the captain.

A heavy plunge, followed by the rattling of chains and swinging round of
the brig, told that they had come to an anchor in the lagoon of the
Cocos-Keeling Islands.




CHAPTER III.

INTERESTING PARTICULARS OF VARIOUS KINDS.


By the first blush of dawn Nigel Roy hastened on deck, eager to see the
place in regard to which his father's narrative had awakened in him
considerable interest.

It not only surpassed but differed from all his preconceived ideas. The
brig floated on the bosom of a perfectly calm lake of several miles in
width, the bottom of which, with its bright sand and brilliant
coral-beds, could be distinctly seen through the pellucid water. This
lake was encompassed by a reef of coral which swelled here and there
into tree-clad islets, and against which the breakers of the Indian
Ocean were dashed into snowy foam in their vain but ceaseless efforts to
invade the calm serenity of the lagoon. Smaller islands, rich with
vegetation, were scattered here and there within the charmed circle,
through which several channels of various depths and sizes connected the
lagoon with the ocean.

"We shall soon have the king himself off to welcome us," said Captain
Roy as he came on deck and gave a sailor-like glance all round the
horizon and then up at the sky from the mere force of habit. "Visitors
are not numerous here. A few scientific men have landed now and again;
Darwin the great naturalist among others in 1836, and Forbes in 1878. No
doubt they'll be very glad to welcome Nigel Roy in this year of grace
1883."

"But I'm not a naturalist, father, more's the pity."

"No matter, lad; you're an ammytoor first mate, an' pr'aps a poet may
count for somethin' here. They lead poetical lives and are fond o'
poetry."

"Perhaps that accounts for the fondness you say they have for you,
father."

"Just so, lad. See!--there's a boat puttin' off already: the king, no
doubt."

He was right. Mr. Ross, the appointed governor, and "King of the Cocos
Islands," was soon on deck, heartily shaking hands with and welcoming
Captain Roy as an old friend. He carried him and his son off at once to
breakfast in his island-home; introduced Nigel to his family, and then
showed them round the settlement, assuring them at the same time that
all its resources were at their disposal for the repair of the
_Sunshine_.

"Thank 'ee kindly," said the captain in reply, "but I'll only ask for a
stick to rig up a foretop-mast to carry us to Batavia, where we'll give
the old craft a regular overhaul--for it's just possible she may have
received some damage below the water-line, wi' bumpin' on the mast and
yards."

The house of the "King" was a commodious, comfortable building in the
midst of a garden, in which there were roses in great profusion, as well
as fruit-trees and flowering shrubs. Each Keeling family possessed a
neat well-furnished plank cottage enclosed in a little garden, besides a
boat-house at the water-edge on the inner or lagoon side of the reef,
and numerous boats were lying about on the white sand. The islanders,
being almost born sailors, were naturally very skilful in everything
connected with the sea. There was about them a good deal of that kindly
innocence which one somehow expects to find associated with a mild
paternal government and a limited intercourse with the surrounding
world, and Nigel was powerfully attracted by them from the first.

After an extensive ramble, during which Mr. Ross plied the captain with
eager questions as to the latest news from the busy centres of
civilisation--especially with reference to new inventions connected with
engineering--the island king left them to their own resources till
dinner-time, saying that he had duties to attend to connected with the
kingdom!

"Now, boy," said the captain when their host had gone, "what'll 'ee do?
Take a boat and have a pull over the lagoon, or go with me to visit a
family I'm particularly fond of, an' who are uncommon fond o' _me!"_

"Visit the family, of course," said Nigel. "I can have a pull any day."

"Come along then."

He led the way to one of the neatest of the plank cottages, which stood
on the highest ridge of the island, so that from the front windows it
commanded a view of the great blue ocean with its breakers that fringed
the reef as with a ring of snow, while, on the opposite side, lay the
peaceful waters and islets of the lagoon.

A shout of joyful surprise was uttered by several boys and girls at
sight of the captain, for during his former visit he had won their
hearts by telling them wild stories of the sea, one half of each story
being founded on fact and personal experience, the other half on a vivid
imagination!

"We are rejoiced to see you," said the mother of the juveniles, a stout
woman of mixed nationality--that of Dutch apparently predominating. She
spoke English, however, remarkably well, as did many of the Cocos
people, though Malay is the language of most of them.

The boys and girls soon hauled the captain down on a seat and began to
urge him to tell them stories, using a style of English that was by no
means equal to that of the mother.

"Stop, stop, let me see sister Kathy first. I can't begin without her.
Where is she?"

"Somewhere, I s'pose," said the eldest boy.

"No doubt of that. Go--fetch her," returned the captain.

At that moment a back-door opened, and a girl of about seventeen years
of age entered. She was pleasant-looking rather than pretty--tall,
graceful, and with magnificent black eyes.

"Here she comes," cried the captain, rising and kissing her. "Why,
Kathy, how you've grown since I saw you last! Quite a woman, I declare!"

Kathy was not too much of a woman, however, to join her brothers and
sisters in forcing the captain into a seat and demanding a story on the
spot.

"Stop, stop!" cried the captain, grasping round their waists a small boy
and girl who had already clambered on his knees. "Let me inquire about
my old friends first--and let me introduce my son to you--you've taken
no notice of _him_ yet! That's not hospitable."

All eyes were turned at once on Nigel, some boldly, others with a shy
inquiring look, as though to say, Can _you_ tell stories?

"Come, now," said Nigel, advancing, "since you are all so fond of my
father, I must shake hands with you all round."

The hearty way in which this was done at once put the children at their
ease. They admitted him, as it were, into their circle, and then turning
again to the captain continued their clamour for a story.

"No, no--about old friends first. How--how's old mother Morris?"

"Quite well," they shouted. "Fatterer than ever," added an urchin, who
in England would have been styled cheeky.

"Yes," lisped a very little girl; "one of 'e doors in 'e house too small
for she."

"Why, Gerchin, you've learned to speak English like the rest," said the
captain.

"Yes, father make every one learn."

"Well, now," continued the captain, "what about Black Sam?"

"Gone to Batavia," chorused the children.

"And--and--what's-'is-name?--the man wi' the nose--"

A burst of laughter and, "We's _all_ got noses here!" was the reply.

"Yes, but you know who I mean--the short man wi' the--"

"Oh! with the turned _up_ nose. _I_ know," cried the cheeky boy; "you
means Johnson? He goed away nobody know whar'."

"And little Nelly Drew, what of her?"

A sudden silence fell on the group, and solemn eyes were turned on
sister Kathy, who was evidently expected to answer.

"Not dead?" said the captain earnestly.

"No, but very _very_ ill," replied the girl.

"Dear Nelly have never git over the loss of her brother, who--"

At this point they were interrupted by another group of the captain's
little admirers, who, having heard of his arrival, ran forward to give
him a noisy welcome. Before stories could be commenced, however, the
visitors were summoned to Mr. Ross's house to dinner, and then the
captain had got into such an eager talk with the king that evening was
upon them before they knew where they were, as Nigel expressed it, and
the stories had to be postponed until the following day.

Of course beds were offered, and accepted by Captain Roy and Nigel. Just
before retiring to them, father and son went out to have a stroll on the
margin of the lagoon.

"Ain't it a nice place, Nigel?" asked the former, whose kindly spirit
had been stirred up to quite a jovial pitch by the gushing welcome he
had received alike from old and young.

"It's charming, father. Quite different from what you had led me to
expect."

"My boy," returned the captain, with that solemn deliberation which he
was wont to assume when about to deliver a palpable truism. "W'en you've
come to live as long as me you'll find that everything turns out
different from what people have bin led to expect. Leastways that's _my_
experience."

"Well, in the meantime, till I have come to your time of life, I'll take
your word for that, and I do hope you intend to stay a long time here."

"No, my son, I don't. Why do ye ask?"

"Because I like the place and the people so much that I would like to
study it and them, and to sketch the scenery."

"Business before pleasure, my lad," said the captain with a grave shake
of the head. "You know we've bin blown out of our course, and have no
business here at all. I'll only wait till the carpenter completes his
repairs, and then be off for Batavia. Duty first; everything else
afterwards."

"But you being owner as well as commander, there is no one to insist on
duty being done," objected Nigel.

"Pardon me," returned the captain, "there is a certain owner named
Captain David Roy, a very stern disciplinarian, who insists on the
commander o' this here brig performin' his duty to the letter. You may
depend upon it that if a man ain't true to himself he's not likely to be
true to any one else. But it's likely that we may be here for a couple
of days, so I release _you_ from duty that you may make the most o' your
time and enjoy yourself. By the way, it will save you wastin' time if
you ask that little girl, Kathy Holbein, to show you the best places to
sketch, for she's a born genius with her pencil and brush."

"No, thank you, father," returned Nigel. "I want no little girl to
bother me while I'm sketching--even though she be a born genius--for I
think I possess genius enough my self to select the best points for
sketching, and to get along fairly well without help. At least I'll try
what I can do."

"Please yourself, lad. Nevertheless, I think you wouldn't find poor
Kathy a bother; she's too modest for that--moreover, she could manage a
boat and pull a good oar when I was here last, and no doubt she has
improved since."

"Nevertheless, I'd rather be alone," persisted Nigel. "But why do you
call her _poor_ Kathy? She seems to be quite as strong and as jolly as
the rest of her brothers and sisters."

"Ah, poor thing, these are not her brothers and sisters," returned the
captain in a gentler tone.

"Kathy is only an adopted child, and an orphan. Her name, Kathleen, is
not a Dutch one. She came to these islands in a somewhat curious way.
Sit down here and I'll tell 'ee the little I know about her."

Father and son sat down on a mass of coral rock that had been washed up
on the beach during some heavy gale, and for a few minutes gazed in
silence on the beautiful lagoon, in which not only the islets, but the
brilliant moon and even the starry hosts were mirrored faithfully.

"About thirteen years ago," said the captain, "two pirate junks in the
Sunda Straits attacked a British barque, and, after a fight, captured
her. Some o' the crew were killed in action, some were taken on board
the junks to be held to ransom I s'pose, and some, jumping into the sea
to escape if possible by swimming, were probably drowned, for they were
a considerable distance from land. It was one o' these fellows, however,
who took to the water that managed to land on the Java shore, more dead
than alive. He gave information about the affair, and was the cause of a
gun-boat, that was in these waters at the time, bein' sent off in chase
o' the pirate junks.

"This man who swam ashore was a Lascar. He said that the chief o' the
pirates, who seemed to own both junks, was a big ferocious Malay with
only one eye--he might have added with no heart at all, if what he said
o' the scoundrel was true, for he behaved with horrible cruelty to the
crew o' the barque. After takin' all he wanted out of his prize he
scuttled her, and then divided the people that were saved alive between
the two junks. There were several passengers in the vessel; among them a
young man--a widower--with a little daughter, four year old or so. He
was bound for Calcutta. Being a very powerful man he fought like a lion
to beat the pirates off, but he was surrounded and at last knocked down
by a blow from behind. Then his arms were made fast and he was sent wi'
the rest into the biggest junk.

"This poor fellow recovered his senses about the time the pirates were
dividin' the prisoners among them. He seemed dazed at first, so said the
Lascar, but as he must have bin in a considerable funk himself I suspect
his observations couldn't have bin very correct. Anyhow, he said he was
sittin' near the side o' the junk beside this poor man, whose name he
never knew, but who seemed to be an Englishman from his language, when a
wild scream was heard in the other junk. It was the little girl who had
caught sight of her father and began to understand that she was going to
be separated from him. At the sound o' her voice he started up, and,
looking round like a wild bull, caught sight o' the little one on the
deck o' the other junk, just as they were hoistin' sail to take
advantage of a breeze that had sprung up.

"Whether it was that they had bound the man with a piece o' bad rope, or
that the strength o' Samson had been given to him, the Lascar could not
tell, but he saw the Englishman snap the rope as if it had bin a bit o'
pack-thread, and jump overboard. He swam for the junk where his little
girl was. If he had possessed the strength of a dozen Samsons it would
have availed him nothin', for the big sail had caught the breeze and got
way on her. At the same time the other junk lay over to the same breeze
and the two separated. At first the one-eyed pirate jumped up with an
oath and fired a pistol shot at the Englishman, but missed him. Then he
seemed to change his mind and shouted in bad English, with a diabolical
laugh--'Swim away; swim hard, p'raps you kitch 'im up!' Of course the
two junks were soon out of sight o' the poor swimmer--and that was the
end of _him,_ for, of course, he must have been drowned."

"But what of the poor little girl?" asked Nigel, whose feelings were
easily touched by the sorrows of children, and who began to have a
suspicion of what was coming.

"I'm just comin' to that. Well, the gun-boat that went to look for the
pirates sighted one o' the junks out in the Indian Ocean after a long
search and captured her, but not a single one o' the barque's crew was
to be found in her, and it was supposed they had been all murdered and
thrown overboard wi' shots tied to their feet to sink them. Enough o'
the cargo o' the British barque was found, however, to convict her, and
on a more careful search bein' made, the little girl was discovered, hid
away in the hold. Bein' only about four year old, the poor little thing
was too frightened to understand the questions put to her. All she could
say was that she wanted 'to go to father,' and that her name was Kathy,
probably short for Kathleen, but she could not tell."

"Then that is the girl who is now here?" exclaimed Nigel.

"The same, lad. The gun-boat ran in here, like as we did, to have some
slight repairs done, and Kathy was landed. She seemed to take at once to
motherly Mrs. Holbein, who offered to adopt her, and as the captain of
the gun-boat had no more notion than the man-in-the-moon who the child
belonged to, or what to do with her, he gladly handed her over, so here
she has been livin' ever since. Of course attempts have been made to
discover her friends, but without success, and now all hope has been
given up. The poor girl herself never speaks on the subject, but old
Holbein and his wife tell me she is sure that Kathy has never forgotten
her father. It may be so; anyhow, she has forgotten his name--if she
ever knew it."

Next day Nigel made no objections to being guided to the most
picturesque spots among the coral isles by the interesting orphan girl.
If she had been older he might even have fallen in love with her, an
event which would have necessitated an awkward modification of the
ground-work of our tale. As it was, he pitied the poor child sincerely,
and not only--recognising her genius--asked her advice a good deal on
the subject of art, but--recognising also her extreme youth and
ignorance--volunteered a good deal of advice in exchange, quite in a
paternal way!




CHAPTER IV.

NIGEL UNDERGOES SOME QUITE NEW AND INTERESTING EXPERIENCES.


The arrangements made on the following day turned out to be quite in
accordance with the wishes and tastes of the various parties concerned.

The ship's carpenter having been duly set to work on the repairs, and
being inspected in that serious piece of prosaic business by the second
mate, our captain was set free to charm the very souls of the juveniles
by wandering for miles along the coral strand inventing, narrating,
exaggerating to his heart's content. Pausing now and then to ask
questions irrelevant to the story in hand, like a wily actor, for the
purpose of intensifying the desire for more, he would mount a block of
coral, and thence, sometimes as from a throne, or platform, or pulpit,
impress some profound piece of wisdom, or some thrilling point, or some
exceedingly obvious moral on his followers open-mouthed and open-eyed.

These were by no means idlers, steeped in the too common business of
having nothing to do. No, they had regularly sought and obtained a
holiday from work or school; for all the activities of social and
civilised life were going on full swing--fuller, indeed, than the
average swing--in that remote, scarcely known, and beautiful little gem
of the Indian Ocean.

Meanwhile Nigel and Kathy, with sketch-books under their arms, went down
to where the clear waters of the lagoon rippled on the white sand, and,
launching a cockleshell of a boat, rowed out toward the islets.

"Now, Kathy, you must let me pull," said Nigel, pushing out the sculls,
"for although the captain tells me you are very good at rowing, it would
never do for a man, you know, to sit lazily down and let himself be
rowed by a girl."

"Very well," said Kathy, with a quiet and most contented smile, for she
had not yet reached the self-conscious age--at least, as ages go in the
Cocos-Keeling Islands! Besides, Kathy was gifted with that charming
disposition which never _objects_ to anything--anything, of course, that
does not involve principle!

But it was soon found that, as the cockleshell had no rudder, and the
intricacies they had to wind among were numerous, frequent directions
and corrections were called for from the girl.

"D' you know," said Nigel at last, "as I don't know where you want me
to go to, it may be as well, after all, that you should row!"

"Very well," said Kathy, with another of her innocent smiles. "I thinked
it will be better so at first."

Nigel could not help laughing at the way she said this as he handed her
the sculls.

She soon proved herself to be a splendid boatwoman, and although her
delicate and shapely arms were as mere pipe-stems to the great brawny
limbs of her companion, yet she had a deft, mysterious way of handling
the sculls that sent the cockleshell faster over the lagoon than before.

"Now, we go ashore here," said Kathy, turning the boat,--with a prompt
back-water of the left scull, and a vigorous pull of the right
one,--into a little cove just big enough to hold it.

The keel went with such a plump on the sand, that Nigel, who sat on a
forward thwart with his back landward, reversed the natural order of
things by putting his back on the bottom of the boat and his heels in
the air.

To this day it is an unsettled question whether this was done on purpose
by Kathy. Certain it is that _she_ did not tumble, but burst into a
hearty fit of laughter, while her large lustrous eyes half shut
themselves up and twinkled.

"Why, you don't even apologise, you dreadful creature!" exclaimed
Nigel, joining in the laugh, as he picked himself up.

"Why should I 'pologise?" asked the girl, in the somewhat broken English
acquired from her adopted family. "Why you not look out?"

"Right, Kathy, right; I'll keep a sharp lookout next time. Meanwhile I
will return good for evil by offering my hand to help you a--hallo!"

While he spoke the girl had sprung past him like a grasshopper, and
alighted on the sand like a butterfly.

A few minutes later and this little jesting fit had vanished, and they
were both engaged with pencil and book, eagerly--for both were
enthusiastic--sketching one of the most enchanting scenes that can well
be imagined. We will not attempt the impossible. Description could not
convey it. We can only refer the reader's imagination to the one old,
hackneyed but expressive, word--fairyland!

One peculiarly interesting point in the scene was, that on the opposite
side of the lagoon the captain could be seen holding forth to his
juvenile audience.

[Illustration: ART ON THE KEELING ISLANDS.--PAGE 36.]

When a pretty long time had elapsed in absolute silence, each sketcher
being totally oblivious of the other, Nigel looked up with a long sigh,
and said:--

"Well, you _have_ chosen a most exquisite scene for me. The more I
work at it, the more I find to admire. May I look now at what you have
done?"

"Oh yes, but I have done not much. I am slow," said the girl, as Nigel
rose and looked over her shoulder.

"Why!--what--how beautiful!--but--but--what do you mean?" exclaimed the
youth.

"I don't understand you," said the girl, looking up in surprise.

"Why, Kathy, I had supposed you were drawing that magnificent landscape
all this time, and--and you've only been drawing a group of shells.
Splendidly done, I admit, but why----"

He stopped at that moment, for her eyes suddenly filled with tears.

"Forgive me, dear child," said Nigel, hurriedly; "I did not intend to
hurt your feelings. I was only surprised at your preference."

"You have not hurt me," returned Kathy in a low voice, as she resumed
her work, "but what you say calls back to me--my father was very fond of
shells."

She stopped, and Nigel, blaming himself for having inadvertently touched
some tender chord, hastened, somewhat clumsily, to change the subject.

"You draw landscape also, I doubt not?"

"Oh yes--plenty. If you come home to me to-night, I will show you some."

"I shall be only too happy," returned the youth, sitting down again to
his sketch, "and perhaps I may be able to give you a hint or
two--especially in reference to perspective--for I've had regular
training, you know, Kathy, and I dare say you have not had that here."

"Not what you will think much, perhaps, yet I have study a little in
school, and _very_ much from Nature."

"Well, you have been under the best of masters," returned Nigel, "if you
have studied much from Nature. And who has been your other teacher?"

"A brother of Mr. Ross. I think he must understand very much. He was an
engineer, and has explained to me the rules of perspective, and many
other things which were at first very hard to understand. But I do see
them now."

"Perhaps then, Kathleen," said Nigel, in that drawling, absent tone in
which artists are apt to indulge when busy at work--"perhaps you may be
already too far advanced to require instruction from me."

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