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"It has been a mighty earthquake--must have been, to have wrought these
vast changes; though I had supposed that Providence had confined a
knowledge of its existence to myself. But, you spoke of a ship,
Bob--surely we are not in the neighbourhood of vessels."
"Sartain--but, I may as well tell you my adventures at once, Mr. Mark;
though I own I should like to land first, as it is a long story, and
take a look at this island that you praise so much, and taste them
reed-birds of which you give so good an account. I'm Jarsey-born and
bred, and know what the little things be."
Mark was dying to hear Bob's story, more especially since he understood
a ship was connected with it, but he could not refuse his friend's
demand for sweet water and a dinner. The entrance of the cove was quite
near and the boats entered that harbour and were secured; after which
the three men commenced the ascent, Mark picking up by the way the
spy-glass, fowling-piece, and other articles that he had dropped in the
haste of his descent. While going up this sharp acclivity, but little
was said; but, when they reached the summit, or the plain rather,
exclamations of delight burst from the mouths of both of Mark's
companions. To the young man's great surprise, those which came from
Bob's dark-skinned associate were in English, as well as those which
came from Bob himself. This induced him to take a good look at the man,
when he discovered a face that he knew!
"How is this, Bob?" cried Mark, almost gasping for breath--"whom have
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you here? Is not this Socrates?"
"Ay, ay, sir; that's Soc; and Dido, his wife, is within a hundred miles
of you."
This answer, simple as it was, nearly overcame our young man again.
Socrates and Dido had been the slaves of Bridget, when he left home; a
part of the estate she had received from her grandmother. They dwelt in
the house with her, and uniformly called her mistress. Mark knew them
both very well, as a matter of course; and Dido, with the archness of a
favourite domestic, was often in the habit of calling him her 'young
master.' A flood of expectations, conjectures and apprehensions came
over our hero, and he refrained from putting any questions immediately,
out of pure astonishment. He was almost afraid indeed to ask any.
Nearly unconscious of what he was about, he led the way to the grove
where he had dined two or three hours before, and where the remainder of
the reed-birds were suspended from the branch of a tree. The embers of
the fire were ready, and in a few minutes Socrates handed Betts his
dinner.
Bob ate and drank heartily. He loved a tin-pot of rum and-water, or
grog, as it used to be called--though even the word is getting to be
obsolete in these temperance times--and he liked good eating. It was not
epicurism, however, or a love of the stomach, that induced him to defer
his explanations on the present occasion. He saw that Mark must hear
what he had to relate gradually, and was not sorry that the recognition
of the negro had prepared him to expect something wonderful. Wonderful
it was, indeed; and at last Betts, having finished his dinner, and given
half-a-dozen preparatory hints, in order to lessen the intensity of his
young friend's feelings, yielded to an appeal from the other's eyes, and
commenced his narrative. Bob told his story, as a matter of course,
with a great deal of circumlocution, and in his own language. There was
a good deal of unnecessary prolixity in it, and some irrelative
digressions touching currents, and the trades, and the weather; but, on
the whole, it was given intelligibly, and with sufficient brevity for
one who devoured every syllable he uttered. The reader, however, would
most probably prefer to hear an abridgement of the tale in our own
words.
When Robert Betts was driven off the Reef, by the hurricane of the
preceding year, he had no choice but to let the Neshamony drive to
leeward with him. As soon as he could, he got the pinnace before the
wind, and, whenever he saw broken water ahead, he endeavoured to steer
clear of it. This he sometimes succeeded in effecting; while at others
he passed through it, or over it, at the mercy of the tempest.
Fortunately the wind had piled up the element in such a way as to carry
the craft clear of the rocks, and in three hours after the Neshamony was
lifted out of her cradle, she was in the open ocean, to leeward of all
the dangers. It blew too hard, however, to make sail on her, and Bob was
obliged to scud until the gale broke. Then, indeed, he passed a week in
endeavouring to beat back and rejoin his friend, but without success,
'losing all he made in the day, while asleep at night.' Such, at least,
was Bob's account of his failure to find the Reef again; though Mark
thought it probable that he was a little out in his reckoning, and did
not look in exactly the right place for it.
At the end of this week high land was made to leeward, and Betts ran
down for it, in the hope of finding inhabitants. In this last
expectation, however, he did not succeed. It was a volcanic mountain, of
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a good many resources, and of a character not unlike that of Vulcan's
Peak, but entirely unpeopled. He named it after his old ship, and passed
several days on it. On describing its appearance, and its bearings from
the place where they then were, Mark had no doubt it was the island that
was visible from the peak near them, and at which he had been gazing
that very afternoon, for fully an hour with longing eyes. On describing
its form to Bob, the latter coincided in this opinion, which was in fact
the true one.
From the highest point of Rancocus Island, land was to be seen to the
northward and westward, and Bob now determined to make the best of his
way in that direction, in the hope of falling in with some vessel after
sandal-wood or beche-le-mar. He fell in with a group of low islands, of
a coral formation, about a hundred leagues from his volcanic mountain,
and on them he found inhabitants. These. people were accustomed to see
white men, and turned out to be exceedingly mild and just. It is
probable that they connected the sudden appearance of a vessel like the
Neshamony, having but one man in it, with some miraculous interposition
of their gods, for they paid Bob the highest honours, and when he
landed, solemnly tabooed his sloop. Bob was a long-headed fellow in the
main, and was not slow to perceive the advantage of such a ceremony, and
encouraged it. He also formed a great intimacy with the chief,
exchanging names and rubbing noses with him. This chief was styled
Betto, after the exchange, and Bob was called Ooroony by the natives.
Ooroony stayed a month with Betto, when he undertook a voyage with him
in a large canoe, to another group, that was distant two or three
hundred miles, still further to the northward, and where Bob was told he
should find a ship. This account proved to be true, the ship turning out
to be a Spaniard, from South America, engaged in the pearl fishery, and
on the eve of sailing for her port. From some misunderstanding with the
Spanish captain, that Bob never comprehended and of course could not
explain, and which he did not attempt to explain, Betto left the group
in haste, and without taking leave of his new friend, though he sent him
a message of apology, one-half of which was lost on Bob, in consequence
of not understanding the language. The result was, however, to satisfy
the latter that his friend was quite as sorry to abandon _him_, as he
was glad to get away from the Spanish captain.
This desertion left Betts no choice between remaining on the pearl
island, or of sailing in the brig, which went to sea next day. He
decided to do the last. In due time he was landed at Panama, whence he
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