The crater, or, Vulcan's Peak : a tale of the Pacific |
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5. | CHAPTER V. |
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CHAPTER V. The crater, or, Vulcan's Peak : | ||
5. CHAPTER V.
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.”
Tempest.
Having completed this first examination of the crater,
Mark and Bob next picked their way again to the summit
of its wall, and took their seats directly over the arch.
Here they enjoyed as good a look-out as the little island
afforded, not only of its own surface, but of the surrounding
ocean. Mark now began to comprehend the character
of the singular geological formation, into the midst of
which the Rancocus had been led, as it might almost be
by the hand of Providence itself. He was at that moment
seated on the topmost pinnacle of a submarine mountain
of volcanic origin — submarine as to all its elevations,
heights and spaces, with the exception of the crater where
he had just taken his stand, and the little bit of visible and
venerable lava, by which it was surrounded. It is true
that this lava rose very near the surface of the ocean, in
fifty places that he could see at no great distance, forming
the numberless breakers that characterized the place; but,
with the exception of Mark's Reef, as Bob named the
principal island on the spot, two or three detached islets
within a cable's-length of it, and a few little more remote,
the particular haunts of birds, no other land was visible,
far or near.
As Mark sat there, on that rock of concrete ashes, he
speculated on the probable extent of the shoals and reefs
by which he was surrounded. Judging by what he then
saw, and recalling the particulars of the examination made
from the cross-trees of the ship, he supposed that the dangers
and difficulties of the navigation must extend, in an
east and west direction, at least twelve marine leagues;
little, and a very little less. There was necessarily a good
deal of conjecture in this estimate of the extent of the volcanic
mountain which composed these extensive shoals;
but, from what he saw, from the distance the ship was
known to have run amid the dangers before she brought
up, her present anchorage, the position of the island, and
all the other materials before him to make his calculation
on, Mark believed himself rather to have lessened than to
have exaggerated the extent of these shoals. Had the
throes of the earth, which produced this submerged rock,
been a little more powerful, a beautiful and fertile island,
of very respectable dimensions, would probably have been
formed in its place.
From the time of reaching the reef, which is now to
bear his name in all future time, our young seaman had
begun to admit the bitter possibility of being compelled to
pass the remainder of his days on it. How long he and
his companion could find the means of subsistence in a
place so barren, was merely matter of conjecture; but so
long as Providence should furnish these means, was it
highly probable that solitary and little-favoured spot was
to be their home. It is unnecessary to state with what
bitter regrets the young bridegroom admitted this painful
idea; but Mark was too manly and resolute to abandon
himself to despair, even at such a moment. He kept his
sorrows pent up in the repository of his own bosom, and
endeavoured to imitate the calm exterior of his companion.
As for Bob, he was a good deal of a philosopher by nature;
and, having made up his mind that they were doomed to
`Robinson Crusoe it,' for a few years at least, he was already
turning over in his thoughts the means of doing so to
the best advantage. Under such circumstances, and with
such feelings, it is not at all surprising that their present
situation and their future prospects soon became the subject
of discourse, between these two solitary seamen.
“We are fairly in for it, Mr. Mark,” said Bob, “and
differ from Robinson only in the fact that there are two of
us; whereas he was obliged to set up for himself, and by
himself, until he fell in with Friday!”
“I wish I could say that was the only difference in our
first place he had an island, while we have little more than
a reef; he had soil, while we have naked rock; he had
fresh water, and we have none; he had trees, while we
have not even a spear of grass. All these circumstances
make out a case most desperately against us.”
“You speak truth, sir; yet is there light ahead. We
have a ship, sound and tight as the day she sailed; while
Robinson lost his craft under his feet. As long as there
is a plank afloat, a true salt never gives up.”
“Ay, Bob, I feel that, as strongly as you can yourself;
nor do I mean to give up, so long as there is reason to
think God has not entirely deserted us. But that ship is
of no use, in the way of returning to our friends and home;
or, of no use as a ship. The power of man could scarcely
extricate her from the reefs around her.”
“It 's a bloody bad berth,” said Bob, squirting the saliva
of his tobacco half-way down the wall of the crater, “that
I must allow. Howsomever, the ship will be of use in a
great many ways, Mr. Mark, if we can keep her afloat,
even where she is. The water that 's in her will last us
two a twelvemonth, if we are a little particular about it;
and when the rainy season sets in, as the rainy season will
be sure to do in this latitude, we can fill up for a fresh
start. Then the ship will be a house for us to live in, and
a capital good house, too. You can live aft, sir, and I 'll
take my swing in the forecastle, just as if nothing had
happened.”
“No, no, Bob; there is an end of all such distinctions
now. Misery, like the grave, brings all upon a level.
You and I commenced as messmates, and we are likely to
end as messmates. There is a use to which the ship may
be put, however, that you have not mentioned, and to
which we must look forward as our best hope for this world.
She may be broken up by us, and we may succeed in
building a craft large enough to navigate these mild seas,
and yet small enough to be taken through, or over the
reefs. In that way, favoured by Divine Providence, we
may live to see our friends again.”
“Courage, Mr. Mark, courage, sir. I know it must be
hard on the feelin's of a married man, like yourself, that
to return to his home again. But I don't believe that such
is to be our fate. I never heard of such an end to a Crusoe
party. Even Robinson, himself, got off at last, and had a
desperate hard journey of it, after he hauled his land-tacks
aboard. I like that idee of the new craft 'specially well,
and will lend a hand to help you through with it with all
my heart. I 'm not much of a carpenter, it 's true; nor do
I suppose you are anything wonderful with the broad-axe
and adze; but two willing and stout men, who has got
their lives to save, can turn their hands to almost anything.
For my part, sir, since I was to be wrecked and to Robinson
it awhile, I 'm gratefully thankful that I 've got you for
a companion, that 's all!”
Mark smiled at this oblique compliment, but he felt well
assured that Bob meant all for the best. After a short
pause, he resumed the discourse by saying—
“I have been thinking, Bob, of the possibility of getting
the ship safely down as far as this island. Could we but
place her to leeward of that last reef off the weather end
of the island, she might lie there years, or until she fell to
pieces by decay. If we are to attempt building a decked
boat, or anything large enough to ride out a gale in, we
shall want more room than the ship's decks to set it up in.
Besides, we could never get a craft of those dimensions
off the ship's decks, and must, of necessity, build it in
some place where it may be launched. Our dingui would
never do to be moving backward and forward, so great a
distance, for it will carry little more than ourselves. All
things considered, therefore, I am of opinion we can do
nothing better to begin with, than to try to get the ship
down here, where we have room, and may carry out our
plans to some advantage.”
Bob assented at once to this scheme, and suggested one
or two ideas in approbation of it, that were new even to
Mark. Thus, it was evident to both, that if the ship herself
were ever to get clear of the reef, it must be by passing
out to leeward; and by bringing her down to the island so
much would be gained on the indispensable course. Thus,
added Bob, she might be securely moored in the little bay
to windward of the island; and, in the course of time it
to the westward, and by the use of buoys, a passage
might be found, after all, that would carry them out to sea.
Mark had little hope of ever getting the Rancocus extricated
from the maze of rocks into which she had so blindly
entered, and where she probably never could have come
but by driving over some of them; but he saw many advantages
in this plan of removing the ship, that increased
in number and magnitude the more he thought on the
subject. Security to the fresh water was one great object
to be attained. Should it come on to blow, and the ship
drift down upon the rocks to leeward of her, she would
probably go to pieces in an hour or two, when not only all
the other ample stores that she contained, but every drop
of sweet water at the command of the two seamen, would
inevitably be lost. So important did it appear to Mark to
make sure of a portion of this great essential, at least, that
he would have proposed towing down to the reef, or island,
a few casks, had the dingui been heavy enough to render
such a project practicable. After talking over these several
points still more at large, Mark and Bob descended from
the summit of the crater, made half of its circuit, and returned
to their boat.
As the day continued calm, Mark was in no hurry, but
passed half an hour in sounding the little bay that was
formed by the sunken rocks that lay off the eastern, or
weather end of the Crater Reef, as, in a spirit of humility,
he insisted on calling that which everybody else now calls
Mark's Reef. Here he not only found abundance of water
for all he wanted, but to his surprise he also found a sandy
bottom, formed no doubt by the particles washed from the
surrounding rocks under the never-ceasing abrasion of the
waves. On the submerged reef there were only a few inches
of water, and our mariners saw clearly that it was possible
to secure the ship in this basin, in a very effectual manner,
could they only have a sufficiency of good weather in which
to do it.
After surveying the basin, itself, with sufficient care,
Bob pulled the dingui back towards the ship, Mark sounding
as they proceeded. But two difficulties were found
between the points that it was so desirable to bring in
consisted in a passage between two lines of reef, that ran
nearly parallel for a quarter of a mile, and which were
only half a cable's-length asunder. There was abundance
of water between these reefs, but the difficulty was in the
course, and in the narrowness of the passage. Mark
passed through the latter four several times, sounding it,
as it might be, foot by foot, and examining the bottom with
the eye; for, in that pellucid water, with the sun near the
zenith, it was possible to see two or three fathoms down,
and nowhere did he find any other obstacle than this just
mentioned. Nor was any buoy necessary, the water breaking
over the southern end of the outer, and over the northern
end of the inner ledge, and nowhere else near by, thus
distinctly noting the very two points where it would be
necessary to alter the course.
The second obstacle was much more serious than that
just described. It was a reef with a good deal of water
over most of it; so much, indeed, that the sea did not
break unless in heavy gales, but not enough to carry a
ship like the Rancocus over, except in one, and that a very
contracted pass, of less than a hundred feet in width.
This channel it would be indispensably necessary to buoy,
since a variation from the true course of only a few fathoms
would infallibly produce the loss of the ship. All the rest
of the distance was easily enough made by a vessel standing
down, by simply taking care not to run into visible
breakers.
Mark and Bob did not get back to the Rancocus until
near three o'clock. They found everything as they had
left it, and the pigs, poultry and goat, glad enough to see
them, and beginning to want their victuals and drink.
The two first are to be found on board of every ship, but
the last is not quite so usual. Captain Crutchely had
brought one along to supply milk for his tea, a beverage
that, oddly enough, stood second only to grog in his favour.
After Bob had attended to the wants of the brute animals,
he and Mark again sat down on the windlass to make
another cold repast on broken meat—as yet, they had not
the hearts to cook anything. As soon as this homely meal
was taken Mark placed a couple of buoys in the dingui,
proceeded to the spot on the reef, where it was proposed
to place them.
Our mariners were quite an hour in searching for the
channel, and near another in anchoring the buoys in a way
to render the passage perfectly safe. As soon as this was
done, Bob pulled back to the ship, which was less than a
mile distant, as fast as he could, for there was every appearance
of a change of weather. The moment was one,
now, that demanded great coolness and decision. Not
more than an hour of day remained, and the question was
whether to attempt to move the ship that night, when the
channel and its marks were all fresh in the minds of the
two seamen, and before the foul weather came, or to trust
to the cable that was down to ride out any blow that might
happen. Mark, young as he was, thought justly on most
professional subjects. He knew that heavy rollers would
come in across the reef where the vessel then lay, and was
fearful that the cable would chafe and part, should it come
on to blow hard for four-and-twenty hours continually.
These rollers, he also knew by the observation of that day,
were completely broken and dispersed on the rocks, before
they got down to the island, and he believed the chances
of safety much greater by moving the ship at once, than
by trying the fortune of another night out where she then
lay. Bob submitted to this decision precisely as if Mark
was still his officer, and no sooner got his orders than he
sprang from sail to sail, and rope to rope, like a cat playing
among the branches of some tree. In that day, spensers
were unknown, staysails doing their duty. Thus Bob
loosed the jib, main-topmast and mizen-staysails, and saw
the spanker clear for setting. While he was thus busied,
Mark was looking to the stopper and shank-painter of the
sheet-anchor, which had been got ready to let go, before
Captain Crutchely was lost. He even succeeded in getting
that heavy piece of metal a cock-bill, without calling
on Bob for assistance.
It was indeed time for them to be in a hurry; for the
wind began to come in puffs, the sun was sinking into a
bank of clouds, and all along the horizon to windward the
sky looked dark and menacing. Once Mark changed his
where he was, should it become necessary; but a lull
tempted him to proceed. Bob shouted out that all was
ready, and Mark lifted the axe with which he was armed,
and struck a heavy blow on the cable. That settled the
matter; an entire strand was separated, and three or four
more blows released the ship from her anchor. Mark now
sprang to the jib-halliards, assisting Bob to hoist the sail.
This was no sooner done than he went aft to the wheel,
where he arrived in time to help the ship to fall off. The
spanker was next got out as well as two men could do it
in a hurry, and then Bob went forward to tend the jib-sheet,
and to look out for the buoys.
It was indispensable in such a navigation to make no
mistake, and Mark enjoined the utmost vigilance on his
friend. Twenty times did he hail to inquire if the buoys
were to be seen, and at last he was gratified by an answer
in the affirmative.
“Keep her away, Mr. Mark—keep her away, you may,
sir; we are well to windward of the channel. Ay, that 'll
do, Mr. Woolston—that 's your beauty, sir. Can't you get
a sight of them b'ys yourself, sir?”
“Not just yet, Bob, and so much the greater need that
you should look out the sharper. Give the ship plenty of
room, and I 'll let her run down for the passage, square for
the channel.”
Bob now ran aft, telling the mate he had better go on
the forecastle himself and conn the ship through the passage,
which was a place he did not like. Mark was vexed
that the change should be made just at that critical instant,
but bounding forward, he was between the knight-heads
in half a minute, looking out for the buoys. At first, he
could not see them; and then he most felt the imprudence
of Bob's quitting his post in such a critical instant. In
another minute, however, he found one; and presently the
other came in sight, fearfully close, as it now appeared to
our young mariner, to its neighbour. The position of the
ship, nevertheless, was sufficiently to windward, leaving
plenty of room to keep off in. As soon as the ship was far
enough ahead, Mark called out to Bob to put his helm
hard up. This was done, and away the Rancocus went,
should sheer a little too much to the one side or to the
other. He hardly breathed as the vessel glided down upon
these two black sentinels, and, for an instant, he fancied
the wind or the current had interfered with their positions.
It was now too late, however, to attempt any change, and
Mark saw the ship surging onward on the swells of the
ocean, which made their way thus far within the reefs,
with a greater intensity of anxiety than he had ever before
experienced in his life. Away went the ship, and each
time she settled in the water, our young man expected to
hear her keel grating on the bottom, but it did not touch.
Presently the buoys were on her quarters, and then Mark
knew that the danger of this one spot was passed!
The next step was to find the southern end of the outer
ledge that formed the succeeding passage. This was not
done until the ship was close aboard of it. A change had
come over the spot within the last few hours, in consequence
of the increase of wind, the water breaking all
along the ledge, instead of on its end only; but Mark
cared not for this, once certain he had found that end.
He was now half-way between his former anchorage and
the crater, and he could distinguish the latter quite plainly.
But sail was necessary to carry the ship safely through the
channel ahead, and Mark called to Bob to lash the helm
a-midships after luffing up to his course, and to spring to
the main-topmast staysail halliards, and help him hoist the
sail. This was soon done, and the new sail was got up,
and the sheet hauled aft. Next followed the mizen staysail,
which was spread in the same manner. Bob then
flew to the wheel, and Mark to his knight-heads again.
Contrary to Mark's apprehensions, he saw that the ship
was luffing up close to the weather ledge, leaving little
danger of her going on to it. As soon as met by the helm,
however, she fell off, and Mark no longer had any doubt
of weathering the northern end of the inner ledge of this
passage. The wind coming in fresher puffs, this was soon
done, when the ship was kept dead away for the crater.
There was the northern end of the reef, which formed the
inner basin of all, to double, when that which remained to
do was merely to range far enough within the reef to get
success, Mark now commenced hauling down the jib. By
the time he had that sail well in, the ship was off the end
of the sunken reef, when Bob put his helm a-starboard and
rounded it. Down came the main-topmast staysail, and
Mark jumped on the forecastle, while he called out to Bob
to lash the helm a-lee. In an instant Bob was at the young
man's side, and both waited for the ship to luff into the
wind, and to forge as near as possible to the reef. This
was successfully done also, and Mark let go the stopper
within twenty feet of the wall of the sunken reef, just as
the ship began to drive astern. The canvas was rolled up
and secured, the cable payed out, until the ship lay just
mid-channel between the island and the sea-wall without,
and the whole secured. Then Bob took off his tarpaulin
and gave three cheers, while Mark walked aft, silently
returning thanks to God for the complete success of this
important movement.
Important most truly was this change. Not only was
the ship anchored, with her heaviest anchor down, and
her best cable out, in good holding ground, and in a basin
where very little swell ever penetrated, and that entering
laterally and diminished in force; but there she was within
a hundred and fifty feet of the island, at all times accessible
by means of the dingui, a boat that it would not do to trust
in the water at all outside when it blew in the least fresh.
In short, it was scarcely possible to have a vessel in a safer
berth, so long as her spars and hull were exposed to the
gales of the ocean, or one that was more convenient to
those who used the island. By getting down her spars and
other hamper, the power of the winds would be much
lessened, though Mark felt little apprehension of the winds
at that season of the year, so long as the sea could not
make a long rake against the vessel. He believed the ship
safe for the present, and felt the hope of still finding a passage,
through the reef to leeward, reviving in his breast.
Well might Mark and Bob rejoice in the great feat they
had just performed. That night it blew so heavily as to
leave little doubt that the ship never could have been kept
at her anchor, outside; and had she struck adrift in the
darkness, nothing could have saved them from almost immediate
billows, breaking and roaring on all sides of the island,
rendering the sea white with their foam, even at midnight;
but, on reaching the massive, natural wall that protected
the Rancocus, they dashed themselves into spray against
it, wetting the vessel from her truck down, but doing her
no injury. Mark remained on deck until past twelve
o'clock, when finding that the gale was already breaking,
he turned in and slept soundly until morning. As for Bob,
he had taken his watch below early in the evening, and
there he remained undisturbed until the appearance of
day, when he turned out of his own accord.
Mark took another look at the sea, reefs and islands,
from the main-topmast cross-trees of the ship, as she lay
in her new berth. Of course, the range of his vision was
somewhat altered by this change of position, and especially
did he see a greater distance to the westward, or towards
the lee side of the reefs. Nothing encouraging was made
out, however; the young man rather inclining more to the
opinion than he had ever done before, that the vessel could
not be extricated from the rocks which surrounded her.
With this conviction strongly renewed, he descended to
the deck, to share in the breakfast Bob had set about preparing,
the moment he quitted his cat-tails; for Bob insisted
on sleeping in the forecastle, though Mark had
pressed him to take one of the cabin state-rooms. This
time the meal, which included some very respectable ship's
coffee, was taken on the cabin-table, the day being cloudless,
and the sun's rays possessing a power that made it
unpleasant to sit long anywhere out of a shade. While
the meal was taken, another conversation was held touching
their situation.
“By the manner in which it blew last night,” Mark observed,
“I doubt if we should have had this comfortable
cabin to eat in this morning, and these good articles to
consume, had we left the ship outside until morning.”
“I look upon it as a good job well done, Mr. Mark,”
answered Bob. “I must own I had no great hopes of our
ever getting here, but was willing to try it; for them rollers
didn't mind half-a-dozen reefs, but came tumbling in over
them, in a way to threaten the old 'Cocus with being
the bottom of my heart, that we are here.”
“You have reason to do so, Bob; and while we may
both regret the misfortune that has befallen us, we had
need remember how much better off we are than our shipmates,
poor fellows!—or how much better we are off than
many a poor mariner who loses his vessel altogether.”
“Yes, the saving of the ship is a great thing for us.
We can hardly call this a shipwreck, Mr. Mark, though
we have been ashore once; it is more like being docked,
than anything else!”
“I have heard, before, of vessels being carried over
reefs, and bars of rivers, into berths they could not quit,”
answered Mark. “But, reflect a moment, Bob, how much
better our condition is, than if we had been washed down
on this naked reef, with only such articles to comfort us,
as could be picked up along shore from the wreck!”
“I 'm glad to hear you talk in this rational way, Mr.
Mark; for it 's a sign you do not give up, or take things
too deeply to heart. I was afeard that you might be thinking
too much of Miss Bridget, and make yourself more
unhappy than is necessary for a man who has things so
comfortable around him.”
“The separation from my wife causes me much pain,
Betts, but I trust in God. It has been in his pleasure to
place us in this extraordinary situation, and I hope that
something good will come of it.”
“That's the right sentiments, sir—only keep such feelings
uppermost, and we shall do right down well. Why,
we have water, in plenty, until after the rainy season shall
be along, when we can catch a fresh supply. Then, there
is beef and pork enough betwixt decks to last you and me
five or six years; and bread and flour in good quantities,
to say nothing of lots of small stores, both forward and aft.”
“The ship is well found, and, as you say, we might live
a long time, years certainly, on the food she contains
There is, however, one thing to be dreaded, and to provide
against which shall be my first care. We are now fifty
days on salted provisions, and fifty more will give us both
the scurvy.”
“The Lord in his mercy protect me from that disease!”
the Horn, and have no wish to try it ag'in. But there
must be fish in plenty among these rocks, Mr. Mark, and
we have a good stock of bread. By dropping the beef and
pork, for a few days at a time, might we not get shut of
the danger?”
“Fish will help us, and turtle would be a great resource,
could we meet with any of that. But, man requires mixed
food, meats and vegetables, to keep him healthy; and nothing
is so good for the scurvy as the last. The worst of
our situation is a want of soil, to grow any vegetables in.
I did not see so much as a rush, or the coarsest sea-plant,
when we were on the island yesterday. If we had soil,
there is seed in plenty on board, and this climate would
bring forward vegetation at a rapid rate.”
“Ay, ay, sir, and I'll tell you what I've got in the way
of seeds, myself. You may remember the delicious musk
and water-melons we fell in with last v'y'ge, in the east.
Well, sir, I saved some of the seed, thinking to give it to
my brother, who is a Jarsey farmer, you know, sir; and,
sailor-like, I forgot it altogether, when in port. If a fellow
could get but a bit of earth to put them melon-seeds in,
we might be eating our fruit like gentlemen, two months
hence, or three months, at the latest.”
“That is a good thought, Betts, and we will turn it over
in our minds. If such a thing is to be done at all, the
sooner it is done the better, that the melons may be getting
ahead while we are busy with the other matters. This is
just the season to put seed into the ground, and I think
we might make soil enough to sustain a few hills of melons.
If I remember right, too, there are some of the sweet potatoes
left.”
Bob assented, and during the rest of the meal they did
nothing but pursue this plan of endeavouring to obtain
half-a-dozen or a dozen hills of melons. As Mark felt all
the importance of doing everything that lay in his power
to ward off the scurvy, and knew that time was not to be
lost, he determined that the very first thing he would now
attend to, would be to get all the seed into as much ground
as he could contrive to make. Accordingly, as soon as
the breakfast was ended, Mark went to collect his seeds,
cleaning them.
There were four shoats on board, which had been kept
in the launch, until that boat was put into the water, the
night the Rancocus ran upon the rocks. Since that time
they had been left to run about the decks, producing a
good deal of dirt, and some confusion. These shoats Bob
now caught, and dropped into the bay, knowing that their
instinct would induce them to swim for the nearest land.
All this turned out as was expected, and the pigs were
soon seen on the island, snuffing around on the rocks, and
trying to root. A small quantity of the excrement of these
animals still lay on the deck, where it had been placed
when the launch was cleaned for service, no one thinking
at such a moment of cleaning the decks. It had been
washed by the sea that came aboard quite across the deck,
but still formed a pile, and most of it was preserved. This
manure Mark was about to put in a half-barrel, in order
to carry it ashore, for the purpose of converting it into
soil, when Bob suddenly put an end to what he was about,
by telling him that he knew where a manure worth two of
that was to be found. An explanation was asked and
given. Bob, who had been several voyages on the western
coast of America, told Mark that the Peruvians and Chilians
made great use of the dung of aquatic birds, as a
manure, and which they found on the rocks that lined their
coast. Now two or three rocks lay near the reef, that
were covered with this deposit, the birds still hovering
about them, and he proposed to take the dingui, and go
in quest of a little of that fertilizing manure. A very little,
he said, would suffice, the Spaniards using it in small
quantities, but applying it at different stages in the growth
of the plant. It is scarcely necessary to say that Bob had
fallen on a knowledge of the use of the article which is
now so extensively known under the name of guano, in the
course of his wanderings, and was enabled to communicate
the fact to his companion. Mark knew that Betts was a
man of severe truth, and he was so much the more disposed
to listen to his suggestion. While our young mate was
getting the boat ready, therefore, Bob collected his tools,
provided himself with a bucket, passed the half-barrel, into
the dingui, and descended himself and took the sculls.
The two then proceeded to Bob's rock, where, amid the
screams of a thousand sea-birds, the honest fellow filled his
bucket with as good guano as was ever found on the coast
of Peru.
While the boat was at the rock, Mark saw that the pigs
had run round to the western end of the island, snuffing at
everything that came in their way, and trying in vain to
root wherever one of them could insert his nose. As a
hog is a particularly sagacious animal, Mark kept his eyes
on them while Bob was picking out his guano, in the faint
hope that they might discover fresh water, by means of
their instinct. In this way he saw them enter the gate
way of the crater, pigs being pretty certain to run their
noses into any such place as that.
On landing, Mark took a part of the tools and the bucket
of guano, while Bob shouldered the remainder, and they
went up to the hole, and entered the crater together, having
landed as near to the gate-way as they could get, with
that object. To Mark's great delight he found that the
pigs were now actually rooting with some success, so far
as stirring the surface was concerned, though getting absolutely
nothing for their pains. There were spots on the
plain of the crater, however, where it was possible, by
breaking a sort of crust, to get down into coarse ashes that
were not entirely without some of the essentials of soil.
Exposure to the air and water, with mixing up with sea-weed
and such other waste materials as he could collect,
the young man fancied would enable him to obtain a sufficiency
of earthy substances to sustain the growth of plants.
While on the summit of the crater-wall, he had seen two
or three places where it had struck him sweet-potatoes and
beans might be made to grow, and he determined to ascend
to those spots, and make his essay there, as being the most
removed from the inroads of the pigs. Could he only succeed
in obtaining two or three hundred melons, he felt
that a great deal would be done in providing the means of
checking any disposition to scurvy that might appear in
Bob or himself. In this thoughtful manner did one so
young look ahead, and make provision for the future.
CHAPTER V. The crater, or, Vulcan's Peak : | ||