University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III
“THE ISLE OF DEATH.”

Abandoned upon a desert island, exposed
to the terrible miasma of the Upas, and moreover
precipitated insensible into a ravine filled
with stagnant water, apparently surcharged with
all the pestilential dews and vapors of the place,
it seemed utterly improbable that Prince Selim
could survive an hour, or that he would ever recover
from the unconsciousness produced by the
drug which he had inhaled. But, as it is often
through agencies which seem most detrimental
to health and life, that nature effects a cure of
some virulent disease, so in the present case it
was ordered by divine wisdom that the measure
which had appeared to secure the greatest success
to the nefarious scheme of Selim's brothers,
was in fact the one through which the prince's
life was to be preserved, in the midst of the
perils which surrounded him. The pool of
stagnant liquid into which he had been thrown
was not indeed, as Osmyn and Nadab conjectured,
a collection of poisonous juices and
drippings from the envenomed atmosphere, but
was a reservoir of that powerful fluid called in
commerce vitriol, which is well-known to accumulate
in such quantities, often forming large
lakes, to which adventurous traders resort for a
supply of the market; and which in some countries,
are leased by the governors to companies
of merchants, who amass much profit from a
traffic in the article. It was a pool or pond
of this fluid which had exuded from the rocks
and collected in the gully wherein Prince
Selim had been treacherously pushed by his
brothers, just as he was about yielding to the
soporific influence of the drug contained in his
phial.

How long the poor youth remained lying
prostrate upon the margin of the pool, with a
portion of his body actually exposed to the corrosive
liquid, it is difficult to say; but he was at
length awakened from his lethargy by a burning
sensation pervading his whole frame, which arose
from the action of the vitriol upon one hand and
arm, and part of his left side, that had fallen in
contact with it, as he lay stretched insensible.
It might be that hours elapsed, during which the
noxious vapors of the “Isle of Death” had
settled like a great pall over the surface; but
when Selim awoke, he remained for some time
without being able to recall any former event in
his life. The hot pain that he experienced made
him instinctively withdraw his person from the
liquid, which at the moment he could only fancy
to be a pool of boiling water; while the thick
darkness that surrounded him, and the consciousness
of his being in a strange locality, without
any recollection of the past, plunged his senses
for a short period into a stupefaction almost as

deep as that induced by the potion. He could
only, by a mechanical movement, gather his
limbs together, so as to avoid the vitreous water,
and then slowly crawl away over what appeared
a soil of greasy loam; after which he remained
for many minutes in a dim, trance-like state,
only cognizant of the burning feeling that pervaded
his left arm and side.

At length, however, as the unfortunate prince
lay thus immobile, he began to be sensible of a
change in the temperature of the surrounding
atmosphere. At first, the air to his slowly reviving
perceptions was exceedingly heavy, heated
and choking; but gradually, and proceeding
as it seemed, from a current of air, a coolness
succeeded to the oppressive warmth, and operating
upon the prince's brain, began to dissipate
the stupor which enthralled him. His eyes
opened, though in the deep gloom they could
distinguish no object, and his recollections, languidly
returning, like the shadows of a half-remembered
dream, began at last to assume shape
and fixedness.

It may be fancied that in such a position the
gradually-developing memory of the young
prince must have opened a fearful field to his
reflections. He did not indeed recall much of
his experience in the “Isle of Death,” inasmuch
as every incident which had transpired after the
landing of his party, and their setting out in
search of the Upas, was now a blank in his
mind; but he nevertheless divined that his
present situation and locality were directly connected
with his expedition toward the poisonous
tree, and he conceived that he was now, in fact,
under the influence of the malaria, and, more
over, abandoned upon the fatal island. But,
though so melancholy a conviction was well
calculated to appall his spirit, yet, so far from
murmuring, the prince composed himself to his
fate with a resignation natural to his disposition.

“I am in the hands of Allah,” he said to himself.
“He is powerful to save me; and that I
am now alive, and conscious of my situation, is
an omen of my preservation at last. Therefore,
I will not despair, but trust in him whose wisdom
overrules the lives of men.”

Prince Selim then bowed his face, and prayed
long and fervently to Heaven, for assistance and
support in his perilous position; and in performing
this act of devotion, he became at once aware
of the great cause he had to be thankful for the
beneficence which had preserved him. For, as
his head approached the earth, he felt a rush of
cold air, and presently discovered an aperture in
the embankment, out of which proceeded a
steady current, moist and saline, and evidently
arising from some subterranean cavern, connected
with the sea. He placed his mouth and
nostrils at the small opening, and inhaling a
long draught, became at once conscious of renewed
strength and animation. “O, Allah!”
he exclaimed aloud, his breast heaving with new
life, and his heart pulsating rapidly; “O, Allah!
how wonderful are thy ways! Here is a draught
of delicious health, whilst all around is poison!”

But not then did the prince realize how the
forces of nature had combined their various
operations, obedient to the heavenly wisdom,
which had watched over his helplessness. He
did not know that the deadly venom of the Upas
had been neutralized in its effects by the superior
acid of the vitreous lake; how that acid, likewise,
acting upon the surface of his arm and
side, had, by means only of a slight pain, awakened
him to consciousness; and how, finally,
the sulphuric gas generated by the vitriol, that
of itself had been dangerous to his life, was carried
away from his person by the current of air
which, through the subterranean passage, had
borne the pure salt of the ocean to revive his
palsied energies. All these necessities of nature
had indeed united to produce the seeming
miracle of his restoration.

But, thought at the time unaware of the extent
of his obligations to the great Source of all
good things, Prince Selim neglected not, through
the intervals of that tedious night which he passed
near the pool of vitriol, to prostrate himself
afterwards in prayer and thankfulness to Heaven.
And when, at length, the first glimpses of daylight
were discernible in the east, and he began to
feel the fresh breeze blowing in strongly from the
shore, and lifting the heavy vapors that hung
over the whole island, and when, at last, inspiring
a long draught of the cool current from the
earth, he arose and hurried toward the beach,
his first thought was to greet the coming of the
full day, in a spot where he could feel the full
extent of Heaven's merey.

At the moment when Prince Selim reached
the shore, the sun was giving beautiful warning
of his approach, by the yellow haze that, at first
blended with the gray clouds, gradually deepened
and glowed, until at last it seemed to become
an atmosphere of burning gold, mingled with a
sea of rolling fire. From the low stretch of
beach where he stood, the young man could

behold the entire eastern horizon belted with
crimson and orange, and other brilliant hues,
changing every moment, like the shifting flashes
of fairy vision, until finally, the glorious orb
itself arose out of its flaming bed, even as the
great Solomon might ascend his throne, crowned
with light, above the subject elements. Then
all the dark shadows of the fearful night swiftly
fled and lost themselves afar, and the vapors of
the Upas shrank within the isle, to coil themselves
in fear around their evil parent.

Prince Selim, after watching for a long time
the radiant spectacle that filled his eyes, inspiring
him more than ever before, with admiration
of that mighty Allah on whose will hung all the
suns and stars, as well as the children of men,
prepared, as a devout Mussulman, to perform
his ablutions, and offer a morning prayer to the
Author and Preserver of his life. He walked a
few paces down the shore, whose sands sparkled
in the rich light like particles of silver, and,
stooping beside the bright water that glided
softly at his feet, laved his brow and face, and
poured from the hollow of his hand a few drops
of the clear element, at the same time turning in
the direction of Mecea, whilst he bowed in
reverence thrice, repeating the ritual enjoined
upon followers of the prophet. As he did so,
his eyes encountered an object that startled and
terrified him.

Near the spot where he stood, and almost hidden
from view by the sands which were heaped
up around it, appeared the wreck of a ship's
boat. The stern which was the only part distinctly
visible, was of a sable hue, with a crimson
crescent in the centre; and this, together with
such portions of the sides as were not entirely
covered, presented a shattered and beaten look,
as if they had long suffered the assaults of storm
and waves. But the object which affrighted
Selim, and indeed one calculated at all times, to
startle a beholder, was the white and ghastly
skeleton of a human form, which lay on one of
the seats of the boat, its ribs and breast pressed
against the gunwale, and its long, fleshless arms
hanging over to the sand beneath. A shudder
thrilled through the prince's frame, and his
heart seemed to grow faint and chill, as he contemplated
the sad relic of humanity.

But Selim was not one to be mastered by any
superstitious feeling, and his reason quickly enabled
him to banish the sensation of fear which
had transiently possessed him. He reflected
that this was very likely the skeleton of some
poor shipwrecked traveller, cast upon the poisoned
isle, and fallen a victim to the miasma
from whose deadly influence he himself had so
miraculously been protected. The sight of the
boat, too, could not but present to the prince's
intelligence a sudden hope that, by means of
even so frail a bark, he might escape from the
island, and he resolved at once to ascertain if it
could be got afloat and made capable of service.
But, firstly, as soon as he could sufficiently recover
his composure, the good Prince Selim
knelt once more upon the sands, and offered up
a prayer to Allah for the repose of that soul
whose mortal remains lay now extended upon
the barren beach. “And let me,” he exclaimed,
as he rose to his feet, “let me in the first place,
proceed to perform the rites of sepulture to this
shattered frame of what was once a fellow-being.
Perhaps Heaven has directed this discovery for
my deliverance, and I must not, on my part, be
unmindful of the sacred duty incumbent upon all
the faithful. I will without delay prepare a
grave for this poor victim of the island.”

Saying this, the prince, although much worn
by his night of vigils, and moreover very faint,
because of long abstinence from food, proceeded
with his hands, and a shell which he found upon
the shore, to remove the covering of sand that
concealed the lower portion of the skeleton, and
the greater part of the boat in which it lay. But
as he proceeded in his labors, Selim, with much
concern, discovered that all prospect of escape
by the medium of the boat, must be at once
abandoned; for it was so battered and crazy by
long exposure to wind and waves as to be beyond
the skill of hands to render seaworthy, even
if material could be had wherewith to repair it;
and to procure this latter was entirely an impossibility,
since no wood of any sort, save that
of the Upas tree, was to be met with in the
whole island.

Therefore, Prince Selim abandoning all hope
of escape by the boat, set himself vigorously to
work in the burial-task which he had taken upon
himself to perform. It was several hours, however,
before, through the tedious process which
the want of proper instruments of excavation
compelled him to pursue, he could entirely disengage
the bones from their shroud of sand, dispose
them decently together, and prepare them
for the final resting-place in a grave which he
scooped ont near a low rock that he thought
might shelter it from the dashing of waves. At
length, however, all being made ready, the skeleton

of the unknown was deposited in the ground
by the hand of Prince Selim, who then placed
upon its breast the shell with which he had hollowed
out the sand, after first graving upon it
with his dagger-point, a short and appropriate
verse from the Koran. Finally, before closing
up the simple sepulchre, the young man bowed
beside it, offering a concluding prayer for the
departed spirit.

So absorbed had Prince Selim been in his
labor, and forgetful of aught save the pious duty
which he felt bound to fulfil, that he was not at all
conscious of the near approach of a vessel, which
rounding an abrupt point of the island, had
noiselessly dropped anchor, and lowered a boat,
filled with men, which was now rapidly making
for the shore. Indeed, it was not till his last
prayer was over, and he arose to finish his task
by covering the romains with sand, that the
harsh grating of the boat's keel upon the beach
very near, and a simultaneous shout from all the
strangers on discovering him, apprised him of
the presence of living human beings.

At first Selim was impressed with the thought
that his brothers and their companions had returned
to search for him, but a glance at the
new-comers quickly undeceived him. They
were men of swarthy countenances, fierce in expression,
and all were clothed and armed with
strange garbs and weapons. Both the prince
and the strangers remained silent for a space,
regarding one another with surprise; and then
one who appeared, from his age and demeanor,
to be the chief of the mariners, held up his hands
and spoke a few words in the Arabic tongue,
which Selim well understood, demanding of the
latter how it had come to pass that a man could
exist upon the “Isle of Death?”

The prince returned the questioner's scrutinizing
gaze with the open glance which was
natural to him, and replied in a firm voice:

“Allah is all-powerful, my friend, and man's
life is in his hands at all times.”

“But how came you here? where is the ship
that landed you? for what crime were you
doomed to perish?”

The interrogations were uttered hurriedly and
in a commanding tone, to which Selim was
about to reply, when a sudden outery from the
rest of the party attracted his attention as well
as that of the stranger.

The alarm was occasioned by a discovery of
the shattered debris of the boat, and an apparent
recognition of the wreck by the band. The old
chief slowly turned his head toward his men, but
no sooner did his glance rest upon the dark stern
and the crimson crescent in its centre, than he
seemed to forget immediately the questions that
he had just propounded, and abruptly starting
away, he walked quickly to the boat, which was
now nearly freed from the mass of sand that
had concealed it. Arriving at the wreck, he
stooped, and appeared for a short time to be attentively
examining the planks; then, rising
quickly, he rushed toward the prince again, gesticulating
wildly, and apparently moved with
strong emotion. At length his words became
intelligible.

“The boat!” he cried—“what know you of
that boat? Where is my son?”

Selim startled at the vehemence of the old
man's manner, could at first hardly frame a
reply to his abrupt questions. Nevertheless,
preserving his calmness, as he saw that both
grief and anxiety marked the stranger's features,
he raised his hand, half unconscious of what he
was doing, and pointed to the open grave, wherein
lay the skeleton he had been about to cover.

This movement of Selim, and the sudden disclosure
which it seemed to make to the old mariner's
perceptions, caused a renewal of the latter's
violent agitation. He clasped his hands together,
covered his face with their united palms, and
then sunk prostrate upon the sand beside the
grave. His companions gathered near, but looked
on in silence, as if apprehensive of disturbing
their chief. Selim likewise remained quiet,
beginning to suspect that some close relation had
existed between the strange old man and the
skeleton of the wrecked boat.

This impression was soon verified; for when
the paroxysm of grief that had convulsed the
mariner, became exhausted, and he lifted his
bowed head from the ground, the first movement
of his hand was to reach forth and take from one
of the clasped fingers of the skeleton a small
emerald ring, which had escaped the prince's
notice till this moment, inasmuch as it was
thickly crusted with the sand that clung to nearly
all the bones. Gazing fixedly upon the jewel
for a few moments, the old man appeared to be
slowly recalling his calmness, and when at
length he turned his eyes upon Selim, and spoke
once more, his voice, instead of being quick and
loud as before, was quite low, though very
distinct.

“My son!” he murmured, lifting his eyes
from the skeleton form that reposed upon its

kindred earth, up to the heaven that now was
bright with sunlight—“my son! may Allah rest
thee!” Then making a sign to Selim that he
should follow, the old mariner walked a few
paces from the rest of the party. The young
prince, hesitating not to obey the signal, speedily
joined the stranger at the spot where he had
halted.

“Young man!” was the first greeting of the
mariner to Selim, who awaited his address in
silence; “If my conduct has seemed strange to
you, so likewise your presence unharmed upon
this poisonous isle cannot but be marvellous to
me. I ask you, therefore, who you are, and by
what miracle you exist where all things die?”

“Why I have been permitted to exist,” returned
Prince Selim, “is known to Allah alone,
since his care has preserved me through the
perils of the place. What I am, is more easily
explained. I am called Selim, and my father
reigns over the kingdom of Guzan.”

“And what manner of crime did you commit,
that was deemed worthy of such terrible expiation?”
asked the mariner.

“I know not what you would imply?” returned
Selim.

“It is only the greatest criminals who have
ever been exposed to the terrible death by Upas
poison.”

“I am conscious of no crime,” said Selim.
“It is but yesterday that, in company with my
two brothers and the master of our ship, I landed
upon this island, actuated by a curiosity to
observe the effect of the poison-tree upon its
vicinity. I remember our disembarking, and
setting forth toward the Upas, but I can recall
none of the circumstances which afterwards happened,
nor do I know by what fatality I was left
behind, unless—”

Selim paused in confusion, for a suspicion of
his brothers' treachery, could not but obtrude
upon his mind at the moment. He shuddered,
and became deadly pale.

“How! were you abandoned by the princes
your brothers upon this horrible place?”

Selim endeavored to regain his composure, for
he saw that it was necessary he should explain
what he himself knew in regard to his present
situation. He proceeded, therefore to recount
such incidents as had occurred to him, from the
moment of his returning to consciousness near
the mysterious pool, to the hour when, reaching
the beach, he had discovered the wrecked boat.
But when he related how, impelled by a sense
of duty to the dead, he had hollowed out a resting-place
for the bones which the boat contained,
the agitation of the old mariner, who listened
attentively, suddenly returned. He clasped the
young prince's hands, drawing him close, and
embracing him warmly, while, in broken accents
he exclaimed:

“Pious youth! you have won my gratitude
forever. Alas! these relics were the last of my
only son, whose loss I have mourned for many
months. Assuredly Heaven directed me to
land this morning, in order that I might be instrumental
in rescuing you, noble prince, from
the dangers of this horrible island. Perhaps,
indeed, I may be an agent of the reward which
your pious conduct has merited.”

“Allah be thanked! I have not for a moment
despaired of relief,” cried Selim.

“Prince, you are without doubt, preserved for
some great purpose, and I, though men call me
an outlaw and a man of crime, can recognize
the hand of Heaven in this thing. But, return
we to my men, and they shall unite with me in
acknowledging the pious care which you have
bestowed upon the remains of a comrade dear to
all of them, as to me, his unhappy father.”

Saying this, the mariner led the way to the
beach, and presently acquainted his companions
with the rank of Selim, and the occasion of his
being found upon the “Isle of Death.” And
when, in conclusion, he informed them of the
respect which the noble youth had exhibited toward
the mortal remains of him who had been
their comrade, the rough seamen pressed around
the prince, uttering a thousand protestations of
gratitude for the act which he had performed; so
that the son of the king of Guzan hardly knew
what return to offer to their singular devotion.
Nevertheless, with natural dignity and goodness
of heart, he received the embraces of the seamen,
and then, at the request of their chief, finished
his prayer for the departed, whilst they reverentially
covering the skeleton with their garments,
bore it to the boat, and there deposited it, for
transportation to the ship, after having first
marked the place which was to have been its
sepulchre, with a rude monument of stone and
shells hastily gathered from the beach, and the
shattered fragments of the wrecked boat that
had so long been the victim's resting-place.

When the rite was over, the seamen, at a signal
from their commander, marched away in the
direction of the Upas tree, whilst Prince Selim
with the old man entered the boat in which the
latter had landed. For some moments both
preserved silence, seemingly occupied with reflections
upon the strange events which had
happened. At length the mariner spoke, laying
his hand upon the prince's arm:

“Mark,” said he, “how mysterious are the
ways in which destiny operates. Six months
ago, yonder mouldering skeleton, clothed with
healthy life, and animated by a daring spirit,
stood beside me in battle and storm, promising
support and strength to my declining years.
Proud and high spirited, my son Ali was likewise
unhappily rash and headstrong. His temper
could not brook the stern discipline by means
of which I have ever controlled the turbulent
men whom I command. One fatal night, alas!
that I survived it, the son boldly disputed his
father's will. I sternly ordered his instant obedience,
and with a taunt he turned away. My
crew were witnesses to the insult, and I had no
alternative but instant action. I struck the daring
rebel to the deck of my ship, and left him
bleeding and insensible, whilst I sought my
cabin. It was the last time that I ever beheld
him!”

The old mariner paused, overcome with his
recollections, and for a few moments uttered no
word. Then, recovering himself, he went on
again:

“At daybreak next morning, when after a restless
night, I ascended to the deck, and summoned
Ali to my side, the unhappy boy was nowhere
to be found. Whether my crew knew
aught of his departure I know not but he was
gone, and the absence of a boat from the ship's
side gave the only clew to the means by which
he had escaped. In the darkness of night,
burning with a sense of the indignity which he
had suffered, and, perhaps, cursing his wretched
father, my poor Ali abandoned his comrades and
the ship, and trusted himself to the wide waters.
Alas! he departed to his death, and I was left
desolate. This is all that remains to me of my
beloved Ali!”

The old man, as he said this, took from his
bosom the emerald ring which he had discovered
upon the skeleton's finger, and pressed it to his
lips.

“This was his mother's, and now twice the
dead have restored it to the living.”

Selim ventured not to disturb the emotion
which this thought seemed to awaken in the old
mariner's heart; but awaited his renewal of the
conversation, and it was not long before he
resumed:

“Prince,” he said, “pardon a father's agitation,
and let me continue. This morning, as
my vessel drew in sight of the `Isle of Death,'
the sudden thought occurred to me, to procure
from the vicinity of the Upas some of the soil
which is said to be so strongly saturated with
poison, as to be capable of impregnating steel
and iron with the deadly venom. I felt a desire
to experiment, by coating some of our arrowheads
and other offensive weapons with the venom,
and for this reason alone landed with a few
men. Judge of my astonishment at beholding
a living man upon the shore.”

“And to this accident alone, I am indebted
for my escape perhaps from death.”

“Prince!” returned the mariner. “It was
no accident, though thus it seems to our eyes.
Doubtless, all has been ruled for your good,
even the death of my poor Ali. And this day,
young man, you have gained a friend who may
yet serve you essentially. I appreciate your
goodness of heart, and moreover I cannot help
believing that you are the victim of some great
treachery. When I learn more of your history,
I shall be able to decide with better judgment.
But, ere you confide aught to me, it is proper
that I should discover to you my name and
character. You have doubtless heard of the
corsair Ali-Naro. Prince, I am he!”

Selim could not restrain a sudden start at the
mention of this name; for he remembered that
the captain of his own ship had represented it as
borne by an unscrupulous and desperate pirate,
the scourge of the Indian Seas, whose hand was
never free from the stain of human blood, and
who delighted in deeds of cruelty. Yet, as he
looked upon the grave features of the man beside
him, he could scarcely realize that one of so
evil a reputation should appear not only mild
but even benignant.

“I know not what may be your past life,
Ali-Naro,” said the prince, after a short silence.
“The actions of a man are to be judged by Allah
at last. I know, however, that you have rescued
me from a fate that is wretched to contemplate,

and I must consequently look upon you with
gratitude. Perhaps, likewise, it is Allah who
impresses me that I can also confide in you as a
friend.”

“Thanks, noble Prince Selim!” cried the
corsair. “Trust me when I say to you, that
you will never regret your confidence in Ali-Naro.”

The sailors were now seen returning from the
Upas tree, and their chief rose to ask them questions
concerning their success in procuring the
soil; after which, in a few moments, the men
took their stations in the boat, and in a very
brief space Selim stood upon the deck of the
vessel commanded by the corsair chieftain.