The effect of a cannon-shot - A happy reunion of a somewhat moist nature - Retrospects and explanations - An awful dive - New plans -The last of the Coral Island.
I ALMOST fell upon the deck with the tumult of mingled emotions that filled my heart, as I gazed ardently towards my beautiful island.It was still many miles away, but sufficiently near to enable me to trace distinctly the well-remembered outlines of the two mountains.My first impulse was to utter an exclamation of gratitude for being carried to my former happy home in safety; my second, to jump up, clap my hands, shout, and run up and down the deck, with no other object in view than that of giving vent to my excited feelings.Then I went below for the telescope, and spent nearly ten minutes of the utmost impatience in vainly trying to get a focus, and in rubbing the skin nearly off my eyes, before Idiscovered that having taken off the large glass to examine the phosphoric water with I had omitted to put it on again.
After that I looked up impatiently at the sails, which I now regretted having lowered so hastily, and for a moment thought of hoisting the main-top sail again; but recollecting that it would take me full half a day to accomplish, and that, at the present rate of sailing, two hours would bring me to the island, Iimmediately dismissed the idea.
The remainder of the time I spent in making feverish preparations for arriving and seeing my dear comrades.I remembered that they were not in the habit of rising before six, and, as it was now only three, I hoped to arrive before they were awake.Moreover, I set about making ready to let go the anchor, resolving in my own mind that, as I knew the depth of water in the passage of the reef and within the lagoon, I would run the schooner in and bring up opposite the bower.Fortunately the anchor was hanging at the cat-head, otherwise I should never have been able to use it.Now, Ihad only to cut the tackling, and it would drop of its own weight.
After searching among the flags, I found the terrible black one, which I ran up to the peak.While I was doing this, a thought struck me.I went to the powder magazine, brought up a blank cartridge and loaded the big brass gun, which, it will be remembered, was unhoused when we set sail, and, as I had no means of housing it, there it had stood, bristling alike at fair weather and foul all the voyage.I took care to grease its mouth well, and, before leaving the fore part of the ship, thrust the poker into the fire.
All was now ready.A steady five-knot breeze was blowing, so that I was now not more than quarter of a mile from the reef.I was soon at the entrance, and, as the schooner glided quietly through, I glanced affectionately at the huge breaker, as if it had been the same one I had seen there when I bade adieu, as I feared for ever, to the island.On coming opposite the Water Garden, I put the helm hard down.The schooner came round with a rapid, graceful bend, and lost way just opposite the bower.Running forward, I let go the anchor, caught up the red-hot poker, applied it to the brass gun, and the mountains with a BANG, such as had only once before broke their slumbering echoes!
Effective although it was, however, it was scarcely equal to the bang with which, instantly after, Peterkin bounded from the bower, in scanty costume, his eye-balls starting from his head with surprise and terror.One gaze he gave, one yell, and then fled into the bushes like a wild cat.The next moment Jack went through exactly the same performance, the only difference being, that his movements were less like those of Jack-in-the-box, though not less vigorous and rapid than those of Peterkin.
"Hallo!" I shouted, almost mad with joy, "what, ho! Peterkin!
Jack! hallo! it's me!"
My shout was just in time to arrest them.They halted and turned round, and, the instant I repeated the cry, I saw that they recognised my voice, by both of them running at full speed towards the beach.I could no longer contain myself.Throwing off my jacket, I jumped overboard at the same moment that Jack bounded into the sea.In another moment we met in deep water, clasped each other round the neck, and sank, as a matter of course, to the bottom! We were well-nigh choked, and instantly struggled to the surface, where Peterkin was spluttering about like a wounded duck, laughing and crying by turns, and choking himself with salt water!
It would be impossible to convey to my reader, by description, an adequate conception of the scene that followed my landing on the beach, as we stood embracing each other indiscriminately in our dripping garments, and giving utterance to incoherent rhapsodies, mingled with wild shouts.It can be more easily imagined than described, so I will draw a curtain over this part of my history, and carry the reader forward over an interval of three days.
During the greater part of that period Peterkin did nothing but roast pigs, taro, and bread-fruit, and ply me with plantains, plums, potatoes, and cocoa-nuts, while I related to him and Jack the terrible and wonderful adventures I had gone through since we last met.After I had finished the account, they made me go all over it again; and, when I had concluded the second recital, I had to go over it again, while they commented upon it piecemeal.They were much affected by what I told them of the probable fate of Avatea, and Peterkin could by no means brook the idea of the poor girl being converted into a LONG PIG! As for Jack, he clenched his teeth, and shook his fist towards the sea, saying at the same time, that he was sorry he had not broken Tararo's head, and he only hoped that one day he should be able to plant his knuckles on the bridge of that chief's nose! After they had "pumped me dry," as Peterkin said, I begged to be informed of what had happened to them during my long absence, and particularly as to how they got out of the Diamond Cave.
