Part 11 (1/2)
”I hope we shall never have the need,” I said, taking a long shot at the rearmost of the dogs as they disappeared in the bushes.
When we came to the poultry-run, we found that the dogs had already scratched a good-sized hole beneath the palings, and within a little they would have been able to scramble through and work havoc among our fowls. We set about recovering our arrows, and soon had them all but the one I had shot last, which, when I came to the place where I expected it to be, was not there, nor could we find it, though we searched for some time.
”You must have hit the villain, master,” says Billy.
I could hardly believe this, for the range was long, and the dog was moving; but on looking closely upon the ground I saw a trace of blood, and suspected that I had in fact hit the dog, which had, however, run on with the arrow in him. Being curious on this matter, I determined to follow up the track, and sent Billy back to the hut for a spear or an axe, as well to defend myself if the animal should turn upon me as to put it out of torment if its wound should be grave. The track was sometimes faint, but mostly clear, and ran in almost a straight line, so that I followed it with ease, where it led me through the wood eastward of the hut, bearing to the right round the base of the hill.
But I did not see the dog for some time, until all of a sudden I caught a glimpse of it limping into the undergrowth some way ahead of me. I made speed to overtake it, and the animal turned, snarling very fiercely upon me, and standing as if to dispute my advance; but I perceived that the creature was already far spent, for it tottered, and recovered itself with great difficulty, so that I was very glad when Billy came up, and with one thrust of the spear ended the poor beast's life.
”There you are, you villain!” cried Billy with a kind of savage joy as he dealt the stroke; but I own I felt in a manner sorry for the creature, and thought it a pity that we should have to wage war against them, though I saw it was a necessity, they being, in their wild state, as fierce and dangerous to us as wolves. Maybe my softness was partly due to my recollection of a terrier we had at home, and I was contemplating the beast Billy had slain, striving to make out some likeness between her (for 'twas a b.i.t.c.h) and my uncle's terrier, when Billy cried, ”What's that?” and I was aware of a faint yelping near by.
Penetrating a little further into the undergrowth, I saw three little puppies, their eyes just open, but they were not yet able to crawl.
”They are very pretty when they're young, Billy,” I said.
”Pretty!” says he. ”I'll show 'em. They shan't never grow up to plague us;” and he was on the point of piercing one of them with his spear when I stayed his hand.
”But why and what for?” says he, looking at me in amazement. ”They'll only starve, or be eaten by the other rascals when they find 'em.
Better kill 'em now and have done with it.”
[Sidenote: Our Pets]
But I had been thinking that we were two lone creatures on this island, and we might perchance find some solace and amus.e.m.e.nt in keeping pets, which we could not do with pigs or poultry, the former being too swinish and the latter too silly. And I confess the little things looked so pretty that I had not the heart to kill them, and so I proposed that we should carry them back to the hut and do our best to bring them up.
”What's the good?” says Billy. ”They won't live. I had some rabbits once, and they died; and some guinea-pigs, and my mother drownded them--she wasn't my real mother; and they may be pretty now, though I can't see it, but when they grow up, bless you, they'll be as fierce as those other villains, and we may as well kill 'em first as last.”
”Billy,” I said, ”my aunt Susan used to say, 'Never climb up to the chimney-pots to meet the rain'----”
”No one would but a fool,” says Billy, interrupting, and when I tried to explain what my aunt meant he said that was all very well, but where did the chimney-pots come in? However, to shorten the story, he gave in to my wish, and we carried the puppies to our hut, and made them up a bed of gra.s.s and leaves in one of our large pans. We were hard put to it to know how to feed them, and indeed, the food we gave them--bread-fruit made into pap, and sc.r.a.ps of chicken, and the like, as well as broth sometimes--did not agree with them very well, because they were so young, so that I doubted whether we should succeed in rearing them. One died in three days, but the others survived, and I ought to say that Billy was fully as diligent as myself in tending them, and showed a marvellous ingenuity in the preparation of their meals. As they grew up, we used to watch them anxiously, expecting that one fine day they would leave us and join themselves to their own kindred in the wilds, and Billy said he hoped his dog would not leave us the first, for he would never forgive it. But we saw with great satisfaction that they showed no inclination towards the society of their kind; indeed, it was the contrary; they shunned them, and showed every mark of enmity if they approached, so that we saw they would prove to be very good watchdogs when fully grown. Billy called his dog Robin, which he said was a good name for a dog but not for a man, and I called mine Little John to match; and they soon learnt to answer to their names.
[1] Probably the fissure had at one time extended to the surface, but had been gradually filled up with soil brought to the spot by drainage from the high ground.--H.S.
CHAPTER THE TWELFTH
OF A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION BETWEEN BILLY AND THE NARRATOR--OF AN ENCOUNTER WITH A SHARK, AND THE BUILDING OF A CANOE
We now began to consider ourselves as the possessors of considerable wealth, compared with our condition when we first came to the island.
We had a fair estate, with none to dispute our t.i.tle, at least, none had yet done so; a substantial and commodious house, by no means a mansion, and very plainly furnished, but having the necessary things, to which we could add the others, and did. We had food, both of the animal and vegetable kind, of our own breeding and growing, so that we were always sure of its freshness. We looked abroad on our little domain with a great deal of honest satisfaction, seeing our own handiwork in it, and being ever urged on to other achievements by what we had already done. This summer, for an instance, finding that our yam plantation throve exceedingly, and needed hoeing because of the very fertility of the soil, we made ourselves rakes and hoes, the former of wood and bits of bone (these took us a long time), the latter of scallop sh.e.l.ls bound with cords about crutched sticks. Then, when the yams were ripe, and we had to bring them to our house from the plantation, which was at some distance, we thought of making a wheelbarrow, which also employed us for a good time, and was indeed one of the most difficult jobs we took in hand, the want of nails being a great hindrance. The body of it was made of wicker-work closely plaited, and the wheel a disc of pottery, which answered very well until it broke in going over rocky ground, and then we had to carve out a wooden one, which was a very tiresome job. We made also a sort of bench-table out of the stump of a tree, which we split down the middle by driving in flint wedges, and when we had split it we took one half and planed the inside of it with sc.r.a.pers, also of flint, and then scoured it with sand, not being content until it was as smooth as a sawyer's plank. It was on this that I drew the map I have mentioned before, using a mixture of charcoal and oil pressed from candle-nuts, and Billy was very proud when he saw BOBBIN'S BAY marked on it in pretty neat, big characters. We made also some rough stools and chairs, using always strong cords of cocoa-nut fibre in the place of nails. Billy and I had a little difference about the stools, he preferring them to be of three legs, and I of four, my reason being that the four-legged sort were the more stable, while his reason was nothing but a contrariness of temper that sometimes seized him; in which frame of mind if I said I should like pork for dinner he would immediately declare for chicken.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Rake Head and Scallop-sh.e.l.l Hoe]
[Ill.u.s.tration: Our Wheelbarrow]
[Ill.u.s.tration: Our Table]
[Sidenote: A Difference of Opinion]
It was this that brought about the fight between us, which I think I mentioned before. We had just finished making our first stools, his being three-legged, and he sang a trifle loud because he was finished first, he being always more handy with his fingers than I was, except in delicate work and the making of pottery. He taunted me about my slowness, asking what was the good of bothering about four legs when three would do quite as well, and saying that he supposed I must have one more than he, because he was only the son of a poor blacksmith of Limehouse; and more to the same effect. Now this, I thought, was very unjust, for I had never stood upon any difference in rank there might be between us; nor indeed did Billy as a rule allude to it, much less express any discontentment, but called me ”master” very simply and naturally. What came over him this day I know not, but he sat on his three-legged stool with a very gloomy face, grumbling and growling until I could endure it no longer.
[Ill.u.s.tration: My Chair; Billy's Stool]