5. CHAPTER V.
WHAT HAPPENED AT HYTYHOO.
Less than forty-eight hours after leaving Nukuheva, the blue,
looming island of St. Christina greeted us from afar. Drawing
near the shore, the grim, black spars and waspish hull of a
small man-of-war craft crept into view; the masts and yards
lined distinctly against the sky. She was riding to her anchor
in the bay, and proved to be a French corvette.
This pleased our captain exceedingly, and, coming on deck,
he examined her from the mizzen rigging with his glass. His
original intention was not to let go an anchor; but, counting
upon the assistance of the corvette in case of any difficulty, he
now changed his mind, and anchored alongside of her. As
soon as a boat could be lowered, he then went off to pay his
respects to the commander, and, moreover, as we supposed, to
concert measures for the apprehension of the runaways.
Returning in the course of twenty minutes, he brought along
with him two officers in undress and whiskers, and three or four
drunken obstreperous old chiefs; one with his legs thrust into
the armholes of a scarlet vest, another with a pair of spurs on
his heels, and a third in a cocked hat and feather. In addition
to these articles, they merely wore the ordinary costume of
their race—a slip of native cloth about the loins. Indecorous
as their behavior was, these worthies turned out to be a deputation
from the reverend the clergy of the island; and the object
of their visit was to put our ship under a rigorous “Taboo,”
to prevent the disorderly scenes and facilities for desertion
which would ensue, were the natives—men and women—allowed
to come off to us freely.
There was little ceremony about the matter. The priests
went aside for a moment, laid their shaven old crowns together,
and went over a little mummery. Whereupon, their leader
tore a long strip from his girdle of white tappa, and handed it
to one of the French officers, who, after explaining what was
to be done, gave it to Jermin. The mate at once went out to
the end of the flying jib boom, and fastened there the mystic
symbol of the ban. This put to flight a party of girls who had
been observed swimming toward us. Tossing their arms about,
and splashing the water like porpoises, with loud cries of
“taboo! taboo!” they turned about and made for the shore.
The night of our arrival, the mate and the Mowree were to
stand “watch and watch,” relieving each other every four hours;
the crew, as is sometimes customary when lying at an anchor,
being allowed to remain all night below. A distrust of the men,
however, was, in the present instance, the principal reason for
this proceeding. Indeed, it was all but certain, that some kind
of attempt would be made at desertion; and, therefore, when
Jermin's first watch came on at eight bells (midnight) — by
which time all was quiet — he mounted to the deck with a
flash of spirits in one hand, and the other in readiness to assail
the first countenance that showed itself above the forecastle
scuttle.
Thus prepared, he doubtless meant to stay awake; but for
all that, he before long fell asleep; and slept with such hearty
good-will too, that the men who left us that night might have
been waked up by his snoring. Certain it was, the mate
snored most strangely; and no wonder, with that crooked
bugle of his. When he came to himself it was just dawn, but
quite light enough to show two boats gone from the side. In
an instant he knew what had happened.
Dragging the Mowree out of an old sail where he was napping,
he ordered him to clear away another boat, and then
darted into the cabin to tell the captain the news. Springing
on deck again, he dove down into the forecastle for a couple
of oarsmen, but hardly got there before there was a cry, and a
loud splash heard over the side. It was the Mowree and the
boat—into which he had just leaped to get ready for lowering
—rolling over and over in the water.
The boat having at nightfall been hoisted up to its place
over the starboard quarter, some one had so cut the tackles
which held it there, that a moderate strain would at once part
them. Bembo's weight had answered the purpose, showing
that the deserters must have ascertained his specific gravity to a
fibre of hemp. There was another boat remaining; but it was
as well to examine it before attempting to lower. And it was
well they did; for there was a hole in the bottom large enough
to drop a barrel through: she had been scuttled most ruthlessly.
Jermin was frantic. Dashing his hat upon deck, he was
about to plunge overboard and swim to the corvette for a
cutter, when Captain Guy made his appearance and begged
him to stay where he was. By this time the officer of the
deck aboard the Frenchman had noticed our movements, and
hailed to know what had happened. Guy informed him
through his trumpet, and men to go in pursuit were instantly
promised. There was a whistling of a boatswain's pipe, an
order or two, and then a large cutter pulled out from the man-of-war's
stern, and in half a dozen strokes was alongside.
The mate leaped into her, and they pulled rapidly ashore.
Another cutter, carrying an armed crew, soon followed.
In an hour's time the first returned, towing the two whale
boats, which had been found turned up like tortoises on the
beach.
Noon came, and nothing more was heard from the deserters.
Meanwhile Doctor Long Ghost and myself lounged about, cultivating
an acquaintance, and gazing upon the shore scenery.
The bay was as calm as death; the sun high and hot; and
occasionally a still gliding canoe stole out from behind the
headlands, and shot across the water.
And all the morning long our sick men limped about the
deck, casting wistful glances inland, where the palm-trees
waved and beckoned them into their reviving shades. Poor
invalid rascals! How conducive to the restoration of their
shattered health would have been those delicious groves! But
hard-hearted Jermin assured them, with an oath, that foot of
theirs should never touch the beach.
Toward sunset a crowd was seen coming down to the water.
In advance of all were the fugitives—bareheaded—their frocks
and trowsers hanging in tatters, every face covered with blood
and dust, and their arms pinioned behind them with green thongs.
Following them up, was a shouting rabble of islanders, pricking
them with the points of their long spears, the party from the
corvette menacing them in flank with their naked cutlasses.
The bonus of a musket to the King of the Bay, and the
promise of a tumbler full of powder for every man caught, had
set the whole population on their track; and so successful was
the hunt, that not only were that morning's deserters brought
back, but five of those left behind on a former visit. The
natives, however, were the mere hounds of the chase, raising
the game in their coverts, but leaving the securing of it to the
Frenchmen. Here, as elsewhere, the islanders have no idea
of taking part in such a scuffle as ensues upon the capture of a
party of desperate seamen.
The runaways were at once brought aboard, and, though
they looked rather sulky, soon came round, and treated the
whole affair as a frolicsome adventure.
