Part 21 (2/2)
But since there would not be at first enough work for all of them, nor indeed would it be safe to employ them all, I had resolved to begin with the least wicked of them. As we sat at breakfast, therefore, Billy and I conned over their names, pa.s.sing judgment on them, as it were.
”What about Clums?” I said.
”He's a fat fool,” says Billy, ”but there ain't no harm in him, away from Hoggett. But he can't do anything but cook, and I can cook as well as him now.”
”Well, he must learn to do other things,” I said. ”And Jordan?”
”Not by no means,” says Billy. ”He speaks you pretty fair, but he's a sly wretch, the sort of man to pick your grub when you warn't looking.”
”What do you say to Hoskin, then?” I asked.
”Why, I don't think much of Hoskin,” says he; ”but I'll say this for him, that he's about the only man of 'em that didn't kick and cuff me, though he looked on when the others did. But what about Mr. Bodger?”
I said that I thought Mr. Bodger a weak and cowardly fellow, who would probably deem himself very much ill-used if set to work, and I was determined to have none idle on the island, while if he were put over the others, they would flout him and might grow mutinous again. Well, after considering the men one by one, we resolved to bring Clums and Hoskin first to the island, and Billy said, antic.i.p.ating me, that their first job must be the cleansing of our hut, which in its present state was not fit for a pig to live in. This put me in mind of our two pigs in the cave, and as soon as we had finished our breakfast we paddled to the cave and brought them away, though when we took them to the sty we found that it was not a secure place at present, those lazy wretches having actually broken up a great part of the fence, I suppose for firewood. ”That's the second job,” says Billy, ”to mend the fence.”
We then made our way to the cliff opposite Red Rock, so that we could speak to the men, for we could scarce make our voices heard at so great a height if we sailed to the foot of the rock in our canoe; and having hailed them, I said that Clums and Hoskin were to come to the landing-place and we would fetch them to make a beginning in working for their living. Pumfrey asked whether he couldn't come too, which I took to be a very good sign; but I replied that his turn would come another day.
The two men came with us very readily, and on the way Clums said he would cook us the best dinner we had had for years, upon which Billy winked at me, making such a comical grimace that I could not help laughing. Clums was taken aback when he learnt what task had been a.s.signed to him, but he was a cheerful soul, and said that as Billy had cleaned his pans for him a good many times on the _Lovey Susan_ he supposed it was only fair that he should clean up the floor for Billy and me, though he thought it ought by rights to be done by Hoggett and Wabberley. It took them pretty nearly all day to make the hut thoroughly tidy and s.h.i.+pshape, and when they were looking rather rueful at the thought of being taken back to the rock for the night, I pleased them mightily by giving them the small hut to sleep in. As for Billy and me, we took up our quarters in our old place, having as a precaution brought in the drawbridge and barricadoed the door; and we had Little John with us to give warning of any attempt to break in, which indeed I thought unlikely, for I did not see what they could gain by it.
I thought we would wait one more day before we brought over any more men, so we gave the two next morning the job of cleaning the outbuildings and beginning the repair of the fences. They wrought willingly enough, though clumsily, not being used to this kind of work: accordingly on the third day we fetched Pumfrey and another man, whose name I forget, and while the first two were still working on the repairs, we set the others to dig the yam plantation, to make ready for the new crop. We deemed it well thus to keep the four men in two parties until we were sure of them.
On the fourth day, when we sailed to the rock to bring two more men, we found the whole company a.s.sembled on the ledge, and they raised a great clamour, from which we made out by and by that all their food was gone.
I had left what I thought would be enough for a full week, and so it would have been if they had portioned it out with any prudence. When we brought them another supply I said they would have to manage better, and one of them said that so they would if we took them to the island and gave them some work to do, for on the rock there was nothing else to do but feed. There was so much reason in this that I forbore to upbraid them any more; but I appointed the man who had spoken a kind of commissary to dole out the provisions, and told the other men that if there were any disputes the quarrelsome would be the last to be taken to the island. It being now late, we took no more men that day, but two the next, and these were all whom we had any reason to believe were the sheep.
It would make too long a story to tell of all the little happenings of the next weeks. From the first we gave the men to understand that they would go back to the rock and take turn with others, at our pleasure, whether they went or not depending on themselves. They proved to be reasonable, performing the tasks set them without grumbling, and indeed they confessed that they were very glad to have something to do and good food to eat after their miserable life under Hoggett's rule. We soon put Clums to his proper work of cooking, he having no skill in anything else, and he was always amazed at the never-failing supply of provisions which Billy and I brought in our canoe, not having revealed to any one the secret of our storehouse. Our fowls, as I have said, were all dispersed, except those that the men had eaten, but we got some of them back in our old way of liming the trees, and so had the beginning of a poultry-run again; and when the men had repaired the pig-sty and made a new fowl-house, and dug up the ground for the yams, there was very little left to employ them, so I set them to fell trees for building another and more commodious house, which would hold them all when my scheme had perfectly ripened. And when, after a week or two, I found everything going on as well as I could wish, I determined to bring over the goats, who had learnt by conversations across the gap what we were doing, and were, many of them, exceeding desirous of enjoying the same liberty as their comrades, even though they had to work. Accordingly I got the men to make a bridge like that which we had destroyed, and when this was flung across the gap, we brought two of the men across, with Mr. Bodger, who, as I supposed, was mightily indignant at being left among the worst of the crew. I told him very frankly what my reasons were, and he immediately said that if I thought so ill of him he would waive all privileges as an officer, and work as a common seaman until I was satisfied with him. I was so much surprised at this, never supposing him to have any spirit at all, that I thought fit to put him to his trial as an officer, and giving him a musket, made him overseer of the men who were felling and preparing trees. I soon saw that the position of authority, and the means to enforce it, wrought a change in him, and though he was never a strong man, and would never have been able to exercise command if left quite to himself, yet he became a satisfactory lieutenant, and I never had cause to repent trusting him.
[Sidenote: The Uses of Adversity]
Hoggett and Wabberley and Chick were the last of the men to be brought to the island. I overheard some of the men grumbling at this one day, saying that these three were living a lazy life, doing nothing for their keep, while the rest were working hard. But Clums silenced the grumblers; calling them fools with a seaman's bluntness, asking them whether they didn't owe all their miseries to those three, and bursting into tears when he spoke of a little girl he had at home, and said that but for the mutiny they might all be living happy at Wapping or Deptford by now. I felt a lump come into my throat when the man talked of home, and Billy, who was with me, said he wouldn't mind having a look at his old dad, especially as he thought he would no longer be afraid of his mother-in-law, as he always called his step-mother.
Clums, I say, said that the longer Hoggett and the other two were kept on the rock the better, but I thought they should have their chance with the rest; accordingly one day I went up myself, with Billy, to the ledge and called for them. Hoggett and Wabberley refused point-blank to come, but Chick said he was ready to oblige, and we took him over, telling the other two that they would be put on half rations until they came to a better mind. This very soon had its effect on Wabberley, to whom his creature comforts were everything; and even Hoggett yielded in a day or two, and came over with the rest in the morning. I had forgot to say that we did not allow the men we called the goats to remain on the island overnight, but marched them back to the rock when their day's work was done, this partly because we did not trust them, and partly because there was no room for them to live decently until the new house was built. I may say here that we never did permit Hoggett and the other two to reside on the island. Wabberley was incorrigibly lazy, and did as little work as he could; Hoggett always sullen, and once or twice he flung down his tools and refused to work any more, and kept his word until he was brought to his senses by having his food cut off. As for Chick, he was extremely obliging, and did all he could to persuade me to let him remain on the island, and admit him to the select company of the sheep; but I did not trust him, and with reason, for Clums told Billy that when they were working Chick would often revile us in the bitterest way, and say that he and Hoggett would get even with us some time or other.
The new house was finished in about two months, and then we brought all the men to live on the island except the three I have mentioned. The bread-fruit season was now come, so that we had plenty of food, and the men made great vats in the ground for the storage of the pulp, being still ignorant of the storehouse beneath our hut. When other work failed, I set them to make more pots and pans, and bows and arrows, and we had many shooting contests at our running man, though there were half-a-dozen of the men whom I would never permit to handle a weapon of any kind until close observation a.s.sured me that they were to be trusted. We also went on fis.h.i.+ng expeditions, and smoked a great quant.i.ty of the fish we caught, and purposed to do the same with our pigs as soon as they should increase. In order that we might enlarge still more our reserve of food, I caused some new plantations of cocoa-nut palms to be made at different parts of the island. There was no need for planting when Billy and I were alone, because the trees bore enough fruit for our use; nor was there any need for planting the bread-fruit tree, because this had a remarkable way of propagating itself on all sides by shoots that sprang from the roots; but I had seen that several of the cocoa-nut palms had lately died, from what cause I never knew, for they seemed to be uninjured,[1] and I did not know but that a similar blight might fall on the bread-fruit trees also; and so I planted cocoa-nuts to provide against a possible failure of the bread-fruit.
[Sidenote: A Little History]
Thus I found myself at the head of a very thriving community. Our active and open-air life kept us in good health, and the little diversions which we mingled with our work--shooting and fis.h.i.+ng, quoits and skittles and Aunt Sally, performed with rough things of our own making--these helped to keep us cheerful, and we had no troubles beyond the storms and cyclones, no savages appearing to molest us, and Old Smoker never showing more than a light crown of vapour, and sometimes not even that. Billy and I lived alone in our hut, with Little John, and we were, I am sure, happier than we were before the men came, for we had more to think about and a great deal more to do. Billy said once that I was now a king indeed, and asked whether I wouldn't like a crown, though it would be made of leaves, there being no metal to be had. I told him that I was quite content as I was, and besides, if I was to be a king I must have a t.i.tle, and I thought Harry must be an ill-starred name, for Harry the First was the king that never smiled again, and Harry the last (that is, the Eighth) was not a very estimable character; and then Billy must needs hear all I remembered about those monarchs, and when I spoke of the six wives he looked very serious, and remained very quiet and thoughtful for a long time. I asked him what he was thinking about, and he said, ”Why, a king ain't much good without a queen, and it's no good being Harry the First (which you would be, this being a new kingdom) if there ain't no chance of Harry the Second, or perhaps Billy the First, to come after. But there, you wouldn't like a wife same as my mother-in-law, so it's all one.”
[1] Probably from the depredations of the _phasma_, or spectre insect, a deadly foe to cocoa-nuts.--H.S.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND
OF OUR DEPARTURE FROM PALM TREE ISLAND; OF THOSE WHO WON THROUGH, AND OF THOSE WHO FELL BY THE WAY
For several days after this conversation I observed that Billy was not near so cheerful as he was wont to be, and when I spoke to him about it, and asked what ailed him, he returned me only evasive answers. One night when we were abed, but not asleep, he sighed so often and so heavily that I said I would and must know what was the matter, and then he surprised me beyond measure by saying, in a sort of mumble, ”I'm only thinking of my little girl.” I thought his wits were wandering, but I asked him, ”What little girl?” and he said, ”Her name's Elizabeth Jane.” I asked him what on earth he meant, and then, unbosoming himself, he told me that Clums' mention of _his_ little girl, and our talk about Henry the Eighth's wives, had set him thinking of a little girl he used to play with at home, when his own mother was alive--a neighbour's child, who used to come into the smithy at all hours, and whom his father used to call ”Billy's little sweetheart.”
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