39. CHAPTER XXXIX.
THEY FALL IN WITH STRANGERS.
After quitting the Parki, we had much calm weather,
varied by light breezes. And sailing smoothly over a sea, so
recently one sheet of foam, I could not avoid bethinking me,
how fortunate it was, that the gale had overtaken us in the
brigantine, and not in the Chamois. For deservedly high
as the whale-shallop ranks as a sea boat; still, in a severe
storm, the larger your craft the greater your sense of security.
Wherefore, the thousand reckless souls tenanting a line-of-battle
ship scoff at the most awful hurricanes; though, in
reality, they may be less safe in their wooden-walled Troy,
than those who contend with the gale in a clipper.
But not only did I congratulate myself upon salvation
from the past, but upon the prospect for the future. For
storms happening so seldom in these seas, one just blown
over is almost a sure guarantee of very many weeks' calm
weather to come.
Now sun followed sun; and no land. And at length it
almost seemed as if we must have sailed past the remotest
presumable westerly limit of the chain of islands we sought;
a lurking suspicion which I sedulously kept to myself. However,
I could not but nourish a latent faith that all would
yet be well.
On the ninth day my forebodings were over. In the
gray of the dawn, perched upon the peak of our sail, a
noddy was seen fast asleep. This freak was true to the
nature of that curious fowl, whose name is significant of its
drowsiness. Its plumage was snow-white, its bill and legs
blood-red; the latter looking like little pantalettes. In a sly
attempt at catching the bird, Samoa captured three tail-feathers;
the alarmed creature flying away with a scream,
and leaving its quills in his hand.
Sailing on, we gradually broke in upon immense low-sailing
flights of other aquatic fowls, mostly of those species
which are seldom found far from land: terns, frigate-birds,
mollymeaux, reef-pigeons, boobies, gulls, and the like. They
darkened the air; their wings making overhead an incessant
rustling like the simultaneous turning over of ten thousand
leaves. The smaller sort skimmed the sea like pebbles
sent skipping from the shore. Over these, flew myriads
of birds of broader wing. While high above all, soared in
air the daring “Diver,” or sea-kite, the power of whose
vision is truly wonderful. It perceives the little flying-fish
in the water, at a height which can not be less than four
hundred feet. Spirally wheeling and screaming as it goes,
the sea-kite, bill foremost, darts downward, swoops into the
water, and for a moment altogether disappearing, emerges
at last; its prey firmly trussed in its claws. But bearing
it aloft, the bold bandit is quickly assailed by other birds of
prey, that strive to wrest from him his booty. And snatched
from his talons, you see the fish falling through the air,
till again caught up in the very act of descent, by the fleetest
of its pursuers.
Leaving these sights astern, we presently picked up the
slimy husk of a cocoanut, all over green barnacles. And
shortly after, passed two or three limbs of trees, and the solitary
trunk of a palm; which, upon sailing nearer, seemed
but very recently started on its endless voyage. As noon
came on, the dark purple land-haze, which had been dimly
descried resting upon the western horizon, was very nearly
obscured. Nevertheless, behind that dim drapery we doubted
not bright boughs were waving.
We were now in high spirits. Samoa between times
humming to himself some heathenish ditty, and Jarl ten
times more intent on his silence than ever; yet his eye full
of expectation and gazing broad off from our bow. Of a
sudden, shading his face with his hand, he gazed fixedly for
an instant, and then springing to his feet, uttered the long-drawn
sound—“Sail ho!”
Just tipping the furthest edge of the sky was a little
speck, dancing into view every time we rose upon the swells.
It looked like one of many birds; for half intercepting our
view, fell showers of plumage: a flight of milk-white noddies
flying downward to the sea.
But soon the birds are seen no more. Yet there remains
the speck; plainly a sail; but too small for a ship. Was
it a boat after a whale? The vessel to which it belonged
far astern, and shrouded by the haze? So it seemed.
Quietly, however, we waited the stranger's nearer approach;
confident, that for some time he would not be able
to perceive us, owing to our being in what mariners denominate
the “sun-glade,” or that part of the ocean upon which
the sun's rays flash with peculiar intensity.
As the sail drew nigh, its failing to glisten white led us
to doubt whether it was indeed a whale-boat. Presently,
it showed yellow; and Samoa declared, that it must be the
sail of some island craft. True. The stranger proving a
large double-canoe, like those used by the Polynesians in
making passages between distant islands.
The Upoluan was now clamorous for a meeting, to which
Jarl was averse. Deliberating a moment, I directed the
muskets to be loaded; then setting the sail—the wind on
our quarter—we headed away for the canoe, now sailing at
right angles with our previous course.
Here it must be mentioned, that from the various gay
cloths and other things provided for barter by the captain
of the Parki, I had very strikingly improved my costume;
making it free, flowing, and eastern. I looked like an
Emir. Nor had my Viking neglected to follow my example;
though with some few modifications of his own.
With his long tangled hair and harpoon, he looked like the
sea-god, that boards ships, for the first time crossing the
Equator. For tatooed Samoa, he yet sported both kilt and
turban, reminding one of a tawny leopard, though his spots
were all in one place. Besides this raiment of ours, against
emergencies we had provided our boat with divers nankeens
and silks.
But now into full view comes a yoke of huge clumsy
prows, shaggy with carving, and driving through the water
with considerable velocity; the immense sprawling sail
holding the wind like a bag. She seemed full of men;
and from the dissonant cries borne over to us, and the
canoe's widely yawing, it was plain that we had occasioned
no small sensation. They seemed undetermined what
course to pursue: whether to court a meeting, or avoid it;
whether to regard us as friends or foes.
As we came still nearer, distinctly beholding their faces,
we loudly hailed them, inviting them to furl their sails, and
allow us to board them. But no answer was returned;
their confusion increasing. And now, within less than two
ships'-lengths, they swept right across our bow, gazing at us
with blended curiosity and fear.
Their craft was about thirty feet long, consisting of a pair
of parallel canoes, very narrow, and at the distance of a yard
or so, lengthwise, united by stout cross-timbers, lashed across
the four gunwales. Upon these timbers was a raised platform
or dais, quite dry; and astern an arched cabin or tent;
behind which, were two broad-bladed paddles terminating in
rude shark-tails, by which the craft was steered.
The yard, spreading a yellow sail, was a crooked bough,
supported obliquely in the crotch of a mast, to which the
green bark was still clinging. Here and there were little
tufts of moss. The high, beaked prow of that canoe in
which the mast was placed, resembled a rude altar; and all
round it was suspended a great variety of fruits, including
scores of cocoanuts, unhusked. This prow was railed off,
forming a sort of chancel within.
The foremost beam, crossing the gunwales, extended some
twelve feet beyond the side of the dais; and at regular intervals
hereupon, stout cords were fastened, which, leading
up to the head of the mast, answered the purpose of shrouds.
The breeze was now streaming fresh; and, as if to force
down into the water the windward side of the craft, five men
stood upon this long beam, grasping five shrouds. Yet they
failed to counterbalance the pressure of the sail; and owing
to the opposite inclination of the twin canoes, these living
statues were elevated high above the water; their appearance
rendered still more striking by their eager attitudes, and
the apparent peril of their position, as the mad spray from
the bow dashed over them. Suddenly, the Islanders threw
their craft into the wind; while, for ourselves, we lay on
our oars, fearful of alarming them by now coming nearer.
But hailing them again, we said we were friends, and had
friendly gifts for them, if they would peaceably permit us to
approach. This understood, there ensued a mighty clamor;
insomuch, that I bade Jarl and Samoa out oars, and row
very gently toward the strangers. Whereupon, amid a
storm of vociferations, some of them hurried to the furthest
side of their dais; standing with arms arched over their
heads, as if for a dive; others menacing us with clubs and
spears; and one, an old man with a bamboo trellis on his
head forming a sort of arbor for his hair, planted himself
full before the tent, stretching behind him a wide plaited
sling.
Upon this hostile display, Samoa dropped his oar, and
brought his piece to bear upon the old man, who, by his attitude,
seemed to menace us with the fate of the great braggart
of Gath. But I quickly knocked down the muzzle of
his musket, and forbade the slightest token of hostility; enjoining
it upon my companions, nevertheless, to keep well
on their guard.
We now ceased rowing, and after a few minutes' uproar
in the canoe, they ran to the steering-paddles, and forcing
round their craft before the wind, rapidly ran away from us.
With all haste we set our sail, and pulling also at our oars,
soon overtook them, determined upon coming into closer
communion.
