life on that Coral Island;” and without waiting to be further questioned, I launched out into a glowing account of the happy life that Jack and Peterkin and I had spent together, and related minutely every circumstance that befell us while on the island.
“Boy, boy,” said Bill in a voice so deep that it startled me, “this is no place for you!”
“That’s true,” said I. “I am of little use on board, and I don’t like my comrades; but I can’t help it, and at any rate I hope to be free again soon.”
“Free?” said Bill, looking at me in surprise.
“Yes, free,” returned I. “The captain said he would put me ashore after this trip was over.”
“This trip! Hark’ee, boy,” said Bill, lowering his voice, “what said the captain to you the day you came aboard?”
“He said that he was a trader in sandal-wood, and no pirate, and told me that if I would join him for this trip he would give me a good share of the profits, or put me on shore in some civilised island if I chose.”
Bill’s brows lowered savagely as he muttered, “Ay, he said truth when he told you he was a sandal-wood trader, but he lied when —”
“Sail ho!” shouted the lookout at the masthead.
“Where away?” cried Bill, springing to the tiller; while the men, startled by the sudden cry, jumped up and gazed round the horizon.
“On the starboard quarter, hull down, sir,” answered the lookout.
At this moment the captain came on deck, and mounting into the rigging, surveyed the sail through the glass. Then sweeping his eye round the horizon, he gazed steadily at the particular point.
“Take in topsails!” shouted the captain, swinging himself down on the deck by the main-back stay.
“Take in topsails!” roared the first mate.
“Ay, ay, sir-r-r!” answered the men as they sprang into the rigging and went aloft like cats.
Instantly all was bustle on board the hitherto quiet schooner. The topsails were taken in and stowed, the men stood by the sheets and halyards, and the captain gazed anxiously at the breeze, which was now rushing towards us like a sheet of dark blue. In a few seconds it struck us. The schooner trembled, as if in surprise at the sudden onset, while she fell away; then, bending gracefully to the wind, as though in acknowledgment of her subjection, she cut through the waves with her sharp prow like a dolphin, while Bill directed her course towards the strange sail.
In half-an-hour we neared her sufficiently to make out that she was a schooner, and from the clumsy appearance of her masts and sails we judged her to be a trader. She evidently did not like our appearance, for the instant the breeze reached her she crowded all sail and showed us her stern. As the breeze had moderated a little, our topsails were again shaken out; and it soon became evident — despite the proverb, “A stern chase is a long one”— that we doubled her speed, and would overhaul her speedily. When within a mile we hoisted British colours, but receiving no acknowledgment, the captain ordered a shot to be fired across her bows. In a moment, to my surprise, a large portion of the bottom of the boat amidships was removed, and in the hole thus exposed appeared an immense brass gun. It worked on a swivel, and was elevated by means of machinery. It was quickly loaded and fired. The heavy ball struck the water a few yards ahead of the chase, and ricochetting into the air, plunged into the sea a mile beyond it.
This produced the desired effect. The strange vessel backed her topsails and hove-to, while we ranged up and lay-to about a hundred yards off.
“Lower the boat!” cried the captain.
In a second the boat was lowered and manned by a part of the crew, who were all armed with cutlasses and pistols. As the captain passed me to get into it he said, “Jump into the stern-sheets, Ralph; I may want you.” I obeyed, and in ten minutes more we were standing on the stranger’s deck. We were all much surprised at the sight that met our eyes. Instead of a crew of such sailors as we were accustomed to see, there were only fifteen blacks, standing on the quarter-deck, and regarding us with looks of undisguised alarm. They were totally unarmed, and most of them unclothed. One or two, however, wore portions of European attire. One had on a pair of duck trousers, which were much too large for him, and stuck out in a most ungainly manner; another wore nothing but the common, scanty, native garment round the loins and a black beaver hat; but the most ludicrous personage of all, and one who seemed to be chief, was a tall, middle-aged man, of a mild, simple expression of countenance, who wore a white cotton shirt, a swallow-tailed coat, and a straw hat, while his black, brawny legs were totally uncovered below the knees.
“Where’s the commander of this ship?” inquired our captain, stepping up to this individual.
“I is cap’in,” he answered, taking off his straw hat and making a low bow.
“You!” said our captain in surprise. “Where do you come from, and where are you bound? What cargo have you aboard?”
“We is come,” answered the man with the swallow-tail, “from Aitutaki; we was go for Rarotonga. We is native miss’nary ship; our name is de Olive Branch; an’ our cargo is two tons cocoa-nuts, seventy pigs, twenty cats, and de Gosp’l.”
This announcement was received by the crew of our vessel with a shout of laughter, which, however, was peremptorily checked by the captain, whose expression instantly changed from one of severity to that of frank urbanity as he advanced towards the missionary and shook him warmly by the hand.
“I am very glad to have fallen in with you,” said he, “and I wish you much success in your missionary labours. Pray take me to your cabin, as I wish to converse with you privately.”
The missionary immediately took him by the hand, and as he led him away I heard him saying, “me most glad to find you trader; we t’ought you be pirate. You very like one ‘bout the masts.”
What conversation the captain had with this man I never heard; but he came on deck again in a quarter of an hour, and shaking hands cordially with the missionary, ordered us into our boat and returned to the schooner, which was immediately put before the wind. In a few minutes the Olive Branch was left far behind us.
That afternoon, as I was down below at dinner, I heard the men talking about this curious ship.
“I wonder,” said one, “why our captain looked so sweet on yon swallow-tailed supercargo o’ pigs and Gospels? If it had been an ordinary trader, now, he would have taken as many o’ the pigs as he required and sent the ship with all on board to the bottom.”
“Why, Dick, you must be new to these seas if you don’t know that!” cried another. “The captain cares as much for the Gospel as you do (an’ that’s precious little); but he knows, and everybody knows, that the only place among the southern islands where a ship can put in and get what she wants in comfort is where the Gospel has been sent to. There are hundreds o’ islands, at this blessed moment, where you might as well jump straight into a shark’s maw as land without a band o’ thirty comrades armed to the teeth to back you.”
“Ay,” said a man with a deep scar over his right eye. “Dick’s new to the work. But if the captain takes us for a cargo o’ sandal-wood to the Feejees, he’ll get a taste o’ these black gentry in their native condition. For my part, I don’t know, and I don’t care, what the Gospel does to them; but I know that when any o’ the islands chance to get it, trade goes all smooth and easy. But where they ha’n’t got it, Beelzebub himself could hardly desire better company.”
“Well, you ought to be a good judge,” cried another, laughing, “for you’ve never kept any company but the worst all your life!”
“Ralph Rover!” shouted a voice down the hatchway; “captain wants you, aft.”
Springing up the ladder, I hastened to the cabin, pondering as I went the strange testimony borne by these men to the effect of the Gospel