22. CHAPTER XXII.
WHAT BEFEL THE BRIGANTINE AT THE PEARL SHELL ISLANDS.
The vessel was the Parki, of Lahina, a village and harbor
on the coast of Mowee, one of the Hawaian isles, where
she had been miserably cobbled together with planks of native
wood, and fragments of a wreck, there drifted ashore.
Her appellative had been bestowed in honor of a high
chief, the tallest and goodliest looking gentleman in all the
Sandwich Islands. With a mixed European and native
crew, about thirty in number (but only four whites in all,
captain included), the Parki, some four months previous, had
sailed from her port on a voyage southward, in quest of pearls,
and pearl oyster shells, sea-slugs, and other matters of that
sort.
Samoa, a native of the Navigator Islands, had long followed
the sea, and was well versed in the business of oyster
diving and its submarine mysteries. The native Lahineese
on board were immediately subordinate to him; the captain
having bargained with Samoa for their services as divers.
The woman, Annatoo, was a native of a far-off, anonymous
island to the westward: whence, when quite young,
she had been carried by the commander of a ship, touching
there on a passage from Macao to Valparaiso. At Valparaiso
her protector put her ashore; most probably, as I afterward
had reason to think, for a nuisance.
By chance it came to pass that when Annatoo's first
virgin bloom had departed, leaving nothing but a lusty frame
and a lustier soul, Samoa, the Navigator, had fallen desperately
in love with her. And thinking the lady to his mind,
being brave like himself, and doubtless well adapted to the
vicissitudes of matrimony at sea, he meditated suicide—I
would have said, wedlock—and the twain became one. And
some time after, in capacity of wife, Annatoo the dame, accompanied
in the brigantine, Samoa her lord. Now, as
Antony flew to the refuse embraces of Cæsar, so Samoa
solaced himself in the arms of this discarded fair one. And
the sequel was the same. For not harder the life Cleopatra
led my fine frank friend, poor Mark, than Queen Annatoo
did lead this captive of her bow and her spear. But all in
good time.
They left their port; and crossing the Tropic and the
Line, fell in with a cluster of islands, where the shells they
sought were found in round numbers. And here—not at all
strange to tell—besides the natives, they encountered a
couple of Cholos, or half-breed Spaniards, from the Main;
one half Spanish, the other half quartered between the wild
Indian and the devil; a race, that from Baldivia to Panama
are notorious for their unscrupulous villainy.
Now, the half-breeds having long since deserted a ship
at these islands, had risen to high authority among the natives.
This hearing, the Parki's captain was much gratified;
he, poor ignorant, never before having fallen in with any
of their treacherous race. And, no doubt, he imagined that
their influence over the Islanders would tend to his advantage.
At all events, he made presents to the Cholos; who,
in turn, provided him with additional divers from among the
natives. Very kindly, also, they pointed out the best places
for seeking the oysters. In a word, they were exceedingly
friendly; often coming off to the brigantine, and sociably
dining with the captain in the cabin; placing the salt between
them and him.
All things went on very pleasantly until, one morning,
the half-breeds prevailed upon the captain to go with them,
in his whale-boat, to a shoal on the thither side of the island,
some distance from the spot where lay the brigantine. They
so managed it, moreover, that none but the Lahineese under
Samoa, in whom the captain much confided, were left in
custody of the Parki; the three white men going along to
row; for there happened to be little or no wind for a sail.
Now, the fated brig lay anchored within a deep, smooth,
circular lagoon, margined on all sides but one by the most
beautiful groves. On that side, was the outlet to the sea;
perhaps a cable's length or more from where the brigantine
had been moored. An hour or two after the party were
gone, and when the boat was completely out of sight, the
natives in shoals were perceived coming off from the shore;
some in canoes, and some swimming. The former brought
bread fruit and bananas, ostentatiously piled up in their proas;
the latter dragged after them long strings of cocoanuts; for
all of which, on nearing the vessel, they clamorously demanded
knives and hatchets in barter.
From their actions, suspecting some treachery, Samoa
stood in the gangway, and warned them off; saying that no
barter could take place until the captain's return. But
presently one of the savages stealthily climbed up from the
water, and nimbly springing from the bob-stays to the bowsprit,
darted a javelin full at the foremast, where it vibrated.
The signal of blood! With terrible outcries, the rest, pulling
forth their weapons, hitherto concealed in the canoes, or
under the floating cocoanuts, leaped into the low chains of
the brigantine; sprang over the bulwarks; and, with clubs
and spears, attacked the aghast crew with the utmost ferocity.
After one faint rally, the Lahineese scrambled for the
rigging; but to a man were overtaken and slain.
At the first alarm, Annatoo, however, had escaped to the
fore-top-gallant-yard, higher than which she could not climb,
and whither the savages durst not venture. For though
after their nuts these Polynesians will climb palm trees like
squirrels; yet, at the first blush, they decline a ship's mast
like Kennebec farmers.
Upon the first token of an onslaught, Samoa, having
rushed toward the cabin scuttle for arms, was there fallen
upon by two young savages. But after a desperate momentary
fray, in which his arm was mangled, he made shift to
spring below, instantly securing overhead the slide of the
scuttle. In the cabin, while yet the uproar of butchery
prevailed, he quietly bound up his arm; then laying on the
transom the captain's three loaded muskets, undauntedly
awaited an assault.
The object of the natives, it seems, was to wreck the
brigantine upon the sharp coral beach of the lagoon. And
with this intent, one of their number had plunged into the
water, and cut the cable, which was of hemp. But the
tide ebbing, cast the Parki's head seaward—toward the outlet;
and the savages, perceiving this, clumsily boarded the
fore-tack, and hauled aft the sheet; thus setting, after a
fashion, the fore-sail, previously loosed to dry.
Meanwhile, a gray-headed old chief stood calmly at the
tiller, endeavoring to steer the vessel shoreward. But not
managing the helm aright, the brigantine, now gliding apace
through the water, only made more way toward the outlet.
Seeing which, the ringleaders, six or eight in number, ran to
help the old graybeard at the helm. But it was a black
hour for them. Of a sudden, while they were handling the
tiller, three muskets were rapidly discharged upon them from
the cabin skylight. Two of the savages dropped dead.
The old steersman, clutching wildly at the helm, fell over it,
mortally wounded; and in a wild panic at seeing their
leaders thus unaccountably slain, the rest of the natives
leaped overboard and made for the shore.
Hearing the splashing, Samoa flew on deck; and beholding
the foresail set, and the brigantine heading right
out to sea, he cried out to Annatoo, still aloft, to descend to
the topsail-yard, and loose the canvas there. His command
was obeyed. Annatoo deserved a gold medal for what she
did that day. Hastening down the rigging, after loosing
the topsail, she strained away at the sheets; in which operation
she was assisted by Samoa, who snatched an instant
from the helm.
The foresail and fore-topsail were now tolerably well set;
and as the craft drew seaward, the breeze freshened. And
well that it did; for, recovered from their alarm, the savages
were now in hot pursuit; some in canoes, and some
swimming as before. But soon the main-topsail was given
to the breeze, which still freshening, came from over the
quarter. And with this brave show of canvas, the Parki
made gallantly for the outlet; and loud shouted Samoa as
she shot by the reef, and parted the long swells without.
Against these, the savages could not swim. And at that
turn of the tide, paddling a canoe therein was almost
equally difficult. But the fugitives were not yet safe. In
full chase now came in sight the whale-boat manned by the
Cholos, and four or five Islanders. Whereat, making no
doubt, that all the whites who left the vessel that morning
had been massacred through the treachery of the halfbreeds;
and that the capture of the brigantine had been
premeditated; Samoa now saw no other resource than to
point his craft dead away from the land.
Now on came the devils buckling to their oars. Meantime
Annatoo was still busy aloft, loosing the smaller sails
—t'gallants and royals, which she managed partially to
set.
The strong breeze from astern now filling the ill-set sails,
they bellied, and rocked in the air, like balloons, while,
from the novel strain upon it, every spar quivered and
sprung. And thus, like a frightened gull fleeing from seahawks,
the little Parki swooped along, and bravely breasted
the brine.
His shattered arm in a hempen sling, Samoa stood at
the helm, the muskets reloaded, and planted full before him
on the binnacle. For a time, so badly did the brigantine
steer, by reason of her ill-adjusted sails, made still more unmanageable
by the strength of the breeze,—that it was
doubtful, after all, notwithstanding her start, whether the
fugitives would not yet fall a prey to their hunters. The
craft wildly yawed, and the boat drew nearer and nearer.
Maddened by the sight, and perhaps thinking more of revenge
for the past, than of security for the future, Samoa,
yielding the helm to Annatoo, rested his muskets on the
bulwarks, and taking long, sure aim, discharged them, one
by one at the advancing foe.
The three reports were answered by loud jeers from the
savages, who brandished their spears, and made gestures of
derision; while with might and main the Cholos tugged at
their oars.
The boat still gaining on the brigantine, the muskets
were again reloaded. And as the next shot sped, there
was a pause; when, like lightning, the headmost Cholo
bounded upwards from his seat, and oar in hand, fell into
the sea. A fierce yell; and one of the natives springing
into the water, caught the sinking body by its long hair;
and the dead and the living were dragged into the boat.
Taking heart from this fatal shot, Samoa fired yet again;
but not with the like sure result; merely grazing the remaining
half-breed, who, crouching behind his comrades,
besought them to turn the boat round, and make for the
shore. Alarmed at the fate of his brother, and seemingly
distrustful of the impartiality of Samoa's fire, the pusillanimous
villain refused to expose a limb above the gunwale.
Fain now would the pursuers have made good their
escape; but an accident forbade. In the careening of the
boat, when the stricken Cholo sprung overboard, two of
their oars had slid into the water; and together with that
death-griped by the half-breed, were now floating off; occasionally
lost to view, as they sunk in the trough of the sea.
Two of the Islanders swam to recover them; but frightened
by the whirring of a shot over their heads, as they unavoidably
struck out towards the Parki, they turned quickly
about; just in time to see one of their comrades smite his
body with his hand, as he received a bullet from Samoa.
Enough: darting past the ill-fated boat, they swam rapidly
for land, followed by the rest; who plunged overboard,
leaving in the boat the surviving Cholo—who it seems
could not swim—the wounded savage, and the dead man.
“Load away now, and take thy revenge, my fine fellow,”
said Samoa to himself. But not yet. Seeing all at his
mercy, and having none, he quickly laid his fore-topsail to
the mast; “hove to” the brigantine; and opened fire anew
upon the boat; every swell of the sea heaving it nearer
and nearer. Vain all efforts to escape. The wounded
man paddled wildly with his hands; the dead one rolled
from side to side; and the Cholo, seizing the solitary oar,
in his frenzied heedlessness, spun the boat round and round;
while all the while shot followed shot, Samoa firing as fast
as Annatoo could load. At length both Cholo and savage
fell dead upon their comrades, canting the boat over sideways,
till well nigh awash; in which manner she drifted
off.
