56. CHAPTER LVI.
The night following the hunting trip, Long Ghost and myself,
after a valiant defense, had to fly the house on account of
the musquitoes.
And here I can not avoid relating a story, rife among the
natives, concerning the manner in which these insects were
introduced upon the island.
Some years previous, a whaling captain, touching at an adjoining
bay, got into difficulty with its inhabitants, and at last
carried his complaint before one of the native tribunals; but
receiving no satisfaction, and deeming himself aggrieved, he
resolved upon taking signal revenge. One night, he towed a
rotten old water-cask ashore, and left it in a neglected Taro
patch, where the ground was warm and moist. Hence the
musquitoes.
I tried my best to learn the name of this man: and hereby
do what I can to hand it down to posterity. It was Coleman—
Nathan Coleman. The ship belonged to Nantucket.
When tormented by the musquitoes, I found much relief in
coupling the word “Coleman” with another of one syllable, and
pronouncing them together energetically.
The doctor suggested a walk to the beach, where there was
a long, low shed tumbling to pieces, but open lengthwise to a
current of air which he thought might keep off the musquitoes.
So thither we went.
The ruin partially sheltered a relic of times gone by, which,
a few days after, we examined with much curiosity. It was an
old war-canoe, crumbling to dust. Being supported by the
same rude blocks upon which, apparently, it had years before
been hollowed out, in all probability it had never been afloat.
Outside, it seemed originally stained of a green color, which,
here and there, was now changed into a dingy purple. The
prow terminated in a high, blunt beak; both sides were covered
with carving; and upon the stern was something which Long
Ghost maintained to be the arms of the royal House of Pomaree.
The device had an heraldic look, certainly—being two
sharks with the talons of hawks clawing a knot left projecting
from the wood.
The canoe was at least forty feet long, about two wide, and
four deep. The upper part—consisting of narrow planks laced
together with cords of sinnate—had in many places fallen off,
and lay decaying upon the ground. Still, there were ample accommodations
left for sleeping; and in we sprang—the doctor
into the bow, and I, into the stern. I soon fell asleep; but waking
suddenly, cramped in every joint from my constrained posture,
I thought, for an instant, that I must have been prematurely
screwed down in my coffin.
Presenting my compliments to Long Ghost, I asked how it
fared with him.
“Bad enough,” he replied, as he tossed about in the outlandish
rubbish lying in the bottom of our couch. “Pah! how
these old mats smell!”
As he continued talking in this exciting strain for some time,
I at last made no reply, having resumed certain mathematical
reveries to induce repose. But finding the multiplication-table
of no avail, I summoned up a grayish image of chaos in a sort
of sliding fluidity, and was just falling into a nap on the
strength of it, when I heard a solitary and distinct buzz. The
hour of my calamity was at hand. One blended hum, the
creature darted into the canoe like a small sword-fish; and I
out of it.
Upon getting into the open air, to my surprise, there was
Long Ghost, fanning himself wildly with an old paddle. He
had just made a noiseless escape from a swarm, which had
attacked his own end of the canoe.
It was now proposed to try the water; so a small fishing
canoe, hauled up near by, was quickly lanched; and paddling
a good distance off, we dropped overboard the native contrivance
for an anchor—a heavy stone, attached to a cable of
braided bark. At this part of the island, the encircling reef
was close to the shore, leaving the water within smooth, and
extremely shallow.
It was a blessed thought! We knew nothing till sunrise,
when the motion of our aquatic cot awakened us. I looked
up, and beheld Zeke wading toward the shore, and towing us
after him by the bark cable. Pointing to the reef, he told us
we had had a narrow escape.
It was true enough; the water-sprites had rolled our stone
out of its noose, and we had floated away.
