Part 6 (1/2)
[Sidenote: A Flagstaff]
One of these was the erecting of a signal-post. Although, when we talked matters over--as we often did, both in the daytime and especially at night before we fell asleep--when we talked things over, I say, we always concluded that there was little or no chance of being rescued, and made our plans as if we were to remain on this island for the rest of our lives; yet we thought it right to take our measures for attracting any friendly s.h.i.+p that might heave in sight. We must not, of course, attempt to raise any permanent signal, for such a thing would beyond question be discovered by the savages of some neighbouring island when going about in their canoes, and the last thing we could wish was to bring savages into our peaceful domain. On the other hand, unless we had some means of signalling, a s.h.i.+p might easily pa.s.s us by before we could communicate with it, for the island was so small that no vessel would heave to on the mere chance of finding water, since its most important river, if it had one, could not be more than a mere brook in size. Being thus decided that we ought to have some kind of signal ready, in such a case, we determined that nothing could be better than a flagstaff, even if we should never have a flag.
As for the spot where to erect it, we had no difficulty in choosing that; no better could be found than the wooded hill above the lava bed, whither we climbed every morning and evening to take our lookout. At the top of this hill, and somewhat apart from the rest of the trees, there stood a tree very straight and tall, overtopping the others, so that it formed a very clear mark. Since our flagstaff was not to be permanently in sight, it seemed best that we should have one that we could take to pieces, and put together when it was necessary to hoist it, and I had already seen, at the edge of the lake, what I thought would serve our purpose to a marvel. This was a cl.u.s.ter of trees, or rather shrubs, like what is called bamboo, the stalks being tough and hollow, with joints or knuckles here and there. We cut down three or four of these stalks, choosing them all of different diameters, and having burnt out the pith inside them, for some distance from the top, we contrived to make a kind of telescope tube by fitting them together, it reaching a length of near thirty feet.
This being made, we cut, in the top of the trunk of the tall, straight tree before mentioned, a groove large enough to form a socket for the bottom end of our flagstaff, and when we had fitted it to our satisfaction, we ventured just before sunset to raise the staff, and it made a sort of topmast to the tree, standing some twelve feet above the summit.
”This is prime,” says Billy. ”Now all we want is an ancient or a pendant to fix to the top of it, and there you are.”
”We have nothing but our s.h.i.+rts,” said I, ”and those we cannot spare.”
”But we don't need to raise our flag until we see a s.h.i.+p over yonder,”
says Billy, ”and if we do see one I can strip off my s.h.i.+rt in no time.”
”But we can't fit the staff in no time,” I replied, ”and we must practise ourselves in that until we are very speedy in it.”
We did this accordingly, several evenings in succession, always at dusk, so that our proceedings should not be seen by sharp-eyed savages; and we found in a few days that we could fit the joints of the staff together, and set it up in its socket, in the s.p.a.ce of five minutes, as near as I could guess. We kept the several joints in the tree, so that we should not have the labour of hauling them from the ground every time, fastening them to the boughs with strands of creepers.
While on this matter of the flagstaff, I must say that it came into my mind one day that I had seen the native women making a kind of cloth out of the bark of a tree, though I had not observed what tree it was.
I thought we might contrive to make a pendant in the same way, and after some trials of the bark of different trees we discovered that the bread-fruit tree was best fitted for our purpose, and by diligently beating with stones upon a broad strip of the bark, moistened with water, we flattened and stretched it until it became a sort of thin fabric, which would serve for a flag, though a makes.h.i.+ft one. But having made it, we could not at first devise a means of attaching it to the staff, having no nails, or anything that could be used in their stead. There did, indeed, come out of the bark as we bruised it, a sticky substance which we hoped might serve as glue, but we found that it was not sufficiently tenacious. However, after some thought I hit upon the device of stringing the flag on a strand of creeper, and then knotting the ends of this about the pole.
Our success in this particular gave us much contentment, and Billy declared that now that we knew how to make cloth we must discover a means of making needles and thread, so that we could patch our s.h.i.+rts and breeches, which were already miserably rent and tattered. But this was too great a puzzle for us at the moment, though we solved it afterwards, as I shall tell in its place.
[Sidenote: Pottery]
Having started to tell some of the matters that occupied us while we were pondering the means of setting up the posts of our house, I may mention here another notion that came into my head. We had used some of the clayey earth of the hill-side to fill the interstices of our small house, and being often at a loss for vessels in which to cook our food, and also to carry water--as yet we did not drink it much, for very good reasons--I thought of trying to make some pots and pans. I had, to be sure, no turning wheel, nor could I make one, nor had I the prepared flints or the lead for glaze, such as were employed in my uncle's factory. But I had seen the native people making pottery on the island at which we touched, and that being, so to speak, my own line of business, I had taken more particular note of it than of any other of their devices.
Their manner was to put a piece of calabash, or some such thing, under a lump of clay, to make it turn freely, and then to turn it slowly, but very deftly, by hand, fas.h.i.+oning thereby a vessel of such regular shape that I am sure my uncle, could he have seen it, would scarce have believed it had not been thrown, as we say, on the wheel. Such vessels they first dried in the sun, then, when a group of them had been moulded, a fire was kindled round and over them, and so they were baked. I had no calabash, but I tried my prentice hand with the half of a cocoa-nut sh.e.l.l, and found it very serviceable. But what gave me a deal of trouble was the clay. When I had mixed a great lump of it, moistening it with water and pounding it with stones, and had moulded a sort of porringer upon the sh.e.l.l at first, the vessel would not keep its shape, even so long as it took me to set it upon the ground to dry.
After making several trials of it, and being always disappointed, I saw that I must mix some other substance with the earth to give it consistency. This was a thing that baffled me for days, since all our scouring of the island did not bring to light any substance that would be of use, and we had no means of grinding into powder the flints which lay around in plenty. How strange is it that we may look afar for what we have at our very doors! All of a sudden it came into my head that the sand of the seash.o.r.e, at the edge of the lava tract, which we trod every day in going to bathe, might be the very substance I needed, and I found, when I came to try it, that it not only gave the clay the consistency I desired, but added a glaze to it when I baked the first vessel I made with it. I soon had a row of basins finished, not very comely in shape, but serviceable, and all of a size; and Billy, having heard me deplore that I had nothing larger than a cocoa-nut to mould them on, went a-prowling on the sh.o.r.e one day, and came staggering back with a great dome-shaped stone, and when he set it down in front of me, ”Oh, ain't I a fool!” says he.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Billy's Plate and Mug]
”What's the matter, Billy?” I asked. ”'Tis the very thing I have been wanting this long time.”
”I know it is, master,” says he, ”but what I don't know is why I was such a silly a.s.s as to sweat myself a-carrying of it, when I might have rolled it on its edge.”
”Well, you won't do it again,” I said, smiling at his woebegone look.
”No, I take my davy I won't,” says he.
”What is 'davy'?” I asked, never having heard that expression before.
”Why, don't you know that?” says he, opening his eyes very wide.
”No. What is it?” I said.
Then he scratched his head, and looked at the ground, and after a great deal of consideration says: ”Well, master, I can't say, not to be certain, what a davy is; but suppose I said to you, 'I eat forty cocoa-nuts at a go,' and you said to me, 'You're a liar,' and I said, 'I take my davy on it,' you'd have to believe me or else fetch me a crack on the n.o.b: at least, that's what they do Limehouse way.”