On getting back to the rock I sat down and cried like a child. I felt as if I was done for. At last I got better and began to hope that the chests might be washed on shore, and that I might secure them after all.
How was I to reach the land? there was the question. I was a bad swimmer, and if I had been a good one the chances were that I should be picked off by a shark. My only remaining hope was that the natives might not be cannibals, and that some of them coming off to fish might see me, and carry me to their island. Still perhaps some days might pass before any one might come out so far. I knew therefore that I must husband my provisions to make them last me as long as possible. Fortunately the rain had filled some hollows in the rock. I drank as much as I wanted of that, and bailed the remainder into the cask I had left with Bill.
The day passed by and no one appeared, and not only that day but several others went by, and I was still on the rock. I had eaten up all the ham and drunk up nearly every drop of water. I had no means of striking a light, and if I had there was no fuel except my pole, and I could not live long on the raw shell fish which stuck to the rock.
My last hour I thought was come. I lay down expecting to die, and soon dropped off into a sort of stupor. I was aroused by hearing voices, and looking up I saw a canoe with three brown girls in her, paddling up to the rock. I just lifted my head and made signs that I was very ill; they understood me, and instead of running away managed together to lift me into their canoe. One poured water down my throat, and another fed me with yam. They had been out fishing, and were returning home. They took me to their fathers hut, and fed and nursed me till I recovered. My thoughts were running on the chests with the pearls, but I could hear nothing of them, nor of poor Bill either, nor have I from that day to this.
Chapter Four
While I served in her I was again nearly lost. We were after a big whale which had already been struck when the creature caught the boat I was in with its flukes, stove in the bows, and turned her right over, while I and the rest of the crew were left struggling in the water. I managed to climb up on the boats stern, and hailed another boat which was under sail, but so eager were those in her in pursuit of the monster that they did not see for some time what had occurred. The rest of my mates had sunk before she came up, and I was taken on board so exhausted that I could not have hung on many minutes longer.
When the cruise was up the whaler returned to Sydney, and I thought that I would stop on shore, and with the money I had saved try what I could do for a living. My cash was gone, however, before I could well look round; my old friends the crimps got most of it.
Remembering how I had before been shipped on board a craft without knowing it, I determined that such a trick should not be played me again. Perhaps the crimps thought I was too old to be worth much and would not let me run up a score.
I was standing one day on the quay with my hands in my pockets, when the skipper of the last sandal-wood trader I had sailed in came up to me. He knew me and I knew him, and a bigger villain I never set eyes on; still considering that my last shilling was gone, I could not be particular about my acquaintances.
Boas, old ship, says he. You know the South Sea Islands as well
as most men. I want a few fellows like you for a cruise which is sure to be profitable, and you will come back in a short time with your pockets lined with gold, and be able to live at your ease, if you have a mind to do so, like a gentleman.
I asked him to tell me what was the object of the voyage.
I dont mind telling you the truth. If you were to ask at the Custom House you would hear we were starting on a voyage after cocoa-nut oil and sea slugs, but theres poor profit in that compared to what we are really after. We do not call ours a slaving voyage, but our intention is to get as many natives as we can stowed away in our hold, by fair means or foul, and to run them across to Brisbane or some other port in Queensland. The order we receive from our owner is to visit the different islands, and to persuade as many natives as we can to come and work for the settlers. They want labourers, and will pay good wages, and the natives are only to be engaged for three years, and to be carried back again at the end of that time if they happen to be alive, and wish it, to their own islands.
I told him that was very like the sort of trade I had been engaged in some years before, when we collected natives and carried them to Peru to work in the mines, and how the French didnt approve of our taking the people from their islands, and had captured a number of our vessels. But, says I, as I suppose that there are no mines in Queensland, the Indians will like Australia better than they did Peru, and wont die so fast as they did there. But what does the Government say to the matter? Maybe theyll call it slaving.