Part 23 (2/2)
We all sprang out of the boat on to the jagged coral, then the waves, poised high in air, dashed down upon us, and we were all washed clear over into a pool of smooth water. The boat was capsized, and with broken masts and oars gone, was swept in far ahead of us, till she disappeared in the darkness. We clung to the reef as best we could, and succeeded in reaching a coral ”mushroom” that was just a wash. ”We'll be all right here,” said the Captain, in his cool, cheerful way; ”are you boys all right?”--the two native boys were, like ourselves, cut about the arms and legs by the coral. But they thought nothing of that. What they dreaded were the _sharks_!
Fortunately the tide was falling, and the coral knoll was gradually showing more of its surface above the water. Otherwise none of us would have reached the sh.o.r.e; for in these deep water pa.s.sages the sharks literally swarm.
A sea occasionally broke close to us, but not with sufficient force to wash any of us away. Suddenly the Captain said, ”Boys, I see some people fis.h.i.+ng ash.o.r.e with torches,” and he gave a resounding hail. An answer came back, and, what was more to the purpose, a canoe, in which we were rescued from our precarious position and taken ash.o.r.e. The boat was searched for, and found drifting out to sea. But as long as I live I shall never forget the horrible feeling of standing on that coral knoll, in the wave-washed darkness, knowing that if we were once dislodged there was no chance of escaping the sharks. We were all good swimmers, but the Kusaie natives told us that the pa.s.sage of Chabral harbour was swarming with the dreaded reef-shark, that seeks its prey, chiefly turtle, in the foam and swirl of the breakers on the reef. We slept that night in a native house, some distance from the village of Ll, and at daylight proceeded along the beach to the king's house. The old king did not appear; the queen was very hospitable to us, but seemed nervous and constrained in her manner to the Captain. Once when I was standing apart from him, she said in a low tone that I had better return to Mout, where I would be safe, adding, ”Don't stay along with Captain. Man-of-war come from Honolulu to take him away. By and by I tell him.”
I afterwards regretted that I did not attach more importance to her warning, and tell the Captain; subsequent events showed that both the king and queen had been informed by Mr. Morland of the impending arrival of a man-of-war, which had been searching for Hayston for months previously. Later in the day, while the Captain was superintending repairs to the boat, Mr. Morland and the native colleague were announced. The white missionary requested to see the Captain. I may mention, that during our cruise to the north-west in the _Leonora_ we had occasionally met with the missionary brig, _Morning Star_, and had been visited by Mr. Morland once or twice.
On this occasion he met us with the usual smile and outstretched hand.
”How do you do, Captain Hayston? I am glad--very glad to see you, and yet sorry; for you have my sincere sympathy for the loss of your beautiful vessel.”
”Morland!” came the quick reply, ”you know you are lying most infernally. You are no more pleased to see me than I am to see you. Our interests are too antagonistic for us to take kindly to each other. So let us at least be candid!”
”Oh! Captain Hayston!” rejoined Mr. Morland, ”you terribly unkind man!
Why must you hate the poor parson so? Oh! my friend, my countryman, let us shake hands as fellow-Christians should do when they meet in these lonely, beautiful spots of G.o.d's bright universe!”
Hayston smiled, but if he had but known that Mr. Morland was, even then, anxiously looking for the tall spars of one of Her Majesty's wars.h.i.+ps, and had actually been in communication with her captain a few days previously, he would possibly have half-strangled his pleasant-mannered visitor then and there.
After a short chat the missionary returned to the king's house with the Captain, while I busied myself with the repairs of the boat, when the startling cry of ”Sail ho!” rang through the quiet village. I ran up to the king's house, and found the Captain in the courtyard playing a game of dominoes with Queen S.
The missionary and Likiak S were just coming out from an interview with the king. The air of exultation on their faces as they saw the natives hurrying to and fro at the cry of ”Sail ho!” struck me at once.
The Captain sprang up at once, and said, ”Let us take the boat and go out to her, she may want a pilot”; and we walked through the house to the stone wharf that ab.u.t.ted on one side of the king's establishment. We jumped into the boat, and with a crew of four natives pulled quickly out of the pa.s.sage. On gaining the open we could see no sail, and concluded that the s.h.i.+p must be coming round the north-eastern side of the island, where she had been sighted by the natives. We then set sail, and commenced beating to windward, and about half-an-hour afterwards, as the little boat rode on the swell, we got a sight of the lofty masts and square yards of a man-of-war under steam, as she rounded the high land on the north-east side of the island.
With a sudden exclamation the Captain stood up and gazed at the steamer.
He then seated himself and seemed lost in thought. The great vessel came steadily on, then altered her course by a couple of points, and steered in the direction of the pa.s.sage. I could see that she was under a full head of steam, and was travelling at a great rate. A volume of thick smoke was issuing from the yellow funnel, and as there is always a heavy sea off the windward side of Strong's Island she rolled tremendously, the water pouring from her black painted sides in sheets.
The Captain watched her intently. ”That's a man-of-war, Hilary! and a Britisher too,” he said. ”Though she may be an American--the _Portsmouth_ or the _Jamestown_; I can't tell with that smoke blowing ahead of her. If she's an American cruiser, she'll take me prisoner right enough. It's no use attempting to escape now. It's too late; I must take my chance. In that case you must get away to Utw as quick as possible, and do the best you can with the station and the people. You know where the money is stowed away, and what to do with it if we are fated not to meet again.”
As he said these words the smoke cleared away from the cruiser, and we had a splendid view of her as she rose majestically to a heavy sea, and fell gracefully into the trough again. ”A Britisher, by ----!” exclaimed the Captain, ”and a beauty too; give way, my lads, she's stopped her engines. Let us get aboard, and I'll soon learn what's in store for me.”
In order that it may be understood what reason the Captain had for these strong suspicions of arrest and imprisonment, I will here make quotation from the _Queensland Government Gazette_, an official journal of severely correct character, which, like ”the _Apparatus_, cannot lie.”
COLONIAL SECRETARY'S OFFICE, BRISBANE, _20th August 1875_.
His Excellency directs the subjoined circular despatch received from the Secretary of State for the Colonies, together with the enclosed correspondence with the Board of Admiralty, respecting the proceedings in the South Seas of W. H. Hayston, a United States' subject, and master of the American brig _Leonora_, to be published in the _Gazette_ for general information.
A. MACALISTER.
The Admiralty to the Colonial Office.
ADMIRALTY, _12th January 1875_.
SIR,--I am commanded by the my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty to transmit herewith, for the information of the Earl of Carnarvon, a letter and its enclosures from Commodore Goodenough, Senior Naval Officer of the Australasian Station, reporting the proceedings of W. H. Hayston, a citizen of the United States, and master of the late American brig _Leonora_.
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