CHAPTER VIII. The beauties of the bottom of the sea tempt Peterkin to dive. How he did it. More difficulties overcome. The water garden. Curious creatures of the sea. The tank. Candles missed very much, and the candle-nut tree discovered. Wonderful account of Peterkin's first voyage. Cloth found growing on a tree. A plan projected, and arms prepared for offense and defense. A dreadful cry. Our encounter with the shark was the first great danger that had befallen us since landing on this island, and we felt very seriously affected by it, especially when we considered that we had so often unwittingly incurred the same danger before while bathing. We were now forced to take to fishing again in the shallow water until we should succeed in constructing a raft. What troubled us most, however, was that we were compelled to forego our morning swimming excursions. We did indeed continue to enjoy our bath in the shallow water, but Jack and I found that one great source of our enjoyment was gone when we could no longer dive down among the beautiful coral grows at the bottom of the lagoon. We had come to be so fond of this exercise, and to take such an interest in watching the formations of coral and the gambles of the many beautiful fish among the forest of red and green seaweeds that we had become quite familiar with the appearance of the fish and the localities that they chiefly haunted. We had also become expert divers, but we made it a rule never to stay long underwater at a time. Jack told me that to do so often was bad for the lungs, and instead of affording us enjoyment would air long do us a serious injury. So we never stayed at the bottom as long as we might have done, but came up frequently to the top for fresh air and dived down again immediately. Sometimes when Jack happened to be in a humorous mood, he would seat himself at the bottom of the sea on one of the brain corals as if he were seated on a large paddock stool and then make faces at me in order, if possible, to make me laugh underwater.  But afterwards I became aware of his intentions and being naturally of a grave disposition I had no difficulty in restraining myself. I used often to wonder how poor Peterkin would have liked to be with us, and he sometimes expressed much regret at being unable to join us. I used to do my best to gratify him, poor fellow, by relating all the wonders that we saw, but this, instead of satisfying, seemed only to wet his curiosity the more. So one day we prevailed on him to try to go down with us. But although a brave boy in every other way, Peterkin was very nervous in the water, and it was with difficulty we got him to consent to be taken down, for he could never have managed to push himself down to the bottom without assistance. But no sooner had we pulled him down a yard or so into the deep, clear water than he began to struggle and kick violently. So we were forced to let him go, when he rose out of the water like a cork, gave a loud gasp and a frightened roar, and struck out for the land with the utmost possible haste. Now all this pleasure we were to forego, and when we thought thereon Jack and I felt very much depressed in our spirits. I could see also that Peterkin grieved and sympathized with us, for when talking about this matter he refrained from jesting and bantering us upon it. As however a man's difficulties usually set him upon devising methods to overcome them, thereby he often discovers better things than those he may have lost, so this art difficulty induced us to think of searching for a large pool among the rocks, where the water should be deep enough for diving, yet so surrounded by rocks as to prevent sharks from getting at us. And such a pool we afterwards found, which proved to be very much better than our most sanguine hopes anticipated. It was situated not more than ten minutes walk from our camp, and was in the form of a small deep bay or basin, the entrance to which, besides being narrow, was so shallow that no fish so large as a shark could get in, at least not unless he should be a remarkably thin one. Inside of this basin, which we called our water garden, the coral formations were much more wonderful, and the seaweed plants far more lovely and vividly colored than in the lagoon itself, and the water was so clear and still that, although very deep, you could see the minutest object at the bottom. Besides this there was a ledge of rock which overhung the basin at its deepest part, from which we could dive pleasantly, and whereon Peterkin could sit and see not only all the wonders I had described to him, but also see Jack and me creeping amongst the marine shrubbery at the bottom, like, as he expressed it, two great white sea monsters. During these excursions of ours to the bottom of the sea, we began to get an insight into the manners and customs of its inhabitants, and to make discoveries of wonderful things, the like of which we never before conceived. Among other things, we were deeply interested with the operations of the little coral insect, which I was informed by Jack, is supposed to have entirely constructed many of the numerous islands in the Pacific Ocean, and certainly when we considered the great reef, which these insects had formed round the island, on which we were cast, and observed their ceaseless activity in building their myriad cells, it did at first seem as if this might be true. But then again, when I looked at the mountains of the island, and reflected that there were thousands of such, many of them, much higher, in the South Seas, I doubted that there must be some mistake here, but more of this hereafter. I also became much taken up with the manners and appearance of the anemones, and starfish, and crabs, and sea urchins, and such like creatures, and was not content with watching those I saw during my dives in the water garden. But I must need scoop out a hole in the coral rock close to it, which I filled with saltwater, and stocked with sundry specimens of anemones and shellfish, in order to watch more closely how they were in the habit of passing their time. Our burning glass also now became a great treasure to me, as it enabled me to magnify, and so to perceive more clearly, the forms and actions of these curious creatures of the deep. Having now got ourselves into a very comfortable condition, we began to talk of a project which we had long had in contemplation, namely, to travel entirely round the island, in order, first, to a certain weather it contained any other production which might be useful to us, and second, to see whether there might be any place more convenient and suitable for our permanent residence than that on which we were now encamped, not that we were in any degree dissatisfied with it. On the contrary, we entertained quite a home feeling to our bower and its neighborhood, but if a better place did exist, there was no reason why we should not make use of it. At any rate, it would be well to know of its existence. We had much earnest talk over this matter. But Jack proposed that, before undertaking such an extortion, we should supply ourselves with good defensive arms. For as we intended, not only to go round all the shore, but to descend most of the valleys before returning home, we should be likely to meet in with, we would not say, dangers, but at least with everything that existed on the island, whatever that might be. Besides, said Jack, it won't do for us to live on coconuts and oysters always. No doubt they are very excellent in their way. But I think a little animal food now and then would be agreeable as well, as good for us. And as there are many small birds among the trees, some of which are probably very good to eat, I think it would be a capital plan to make bows and arrows with which we could easily knock them over. First rate, cried Peterkin. You will make the bows, Jack, and I'll try my hand at the arrows. The fact is, I'm quite tired of throwing stones at the birds. I began the very day we landed, I think, and have persevered up to the present time, but I've never hit anything yet. You forget, said I, you hit me one day on the shin. Ah, true, replied Peterkin, and a precious shindy you kicked up in consequence, but you were at least four yards away from the impotent parakeet I aimed at, so you can see what a horribly bad shot I am. But Jack, said I, you cannot make three bows and arrows before tomorrow, and would it not be a pity to waste time now that we have made up our minds to go on this expedition? Suppose that you make one bow and arrow for yourself, and we can take our clubs. That's true, Ralph. The day is pretty far advanced, and I doubt I can make even one bow before dark. To be sure, I might work by firelight after the sun goes down. We had, up to this time, been in the habit of going to bed with the sun, as we had no pressing call to work the nights, and indeed, our work during the day was usually hard enough. What, between fishing and improving our bower, and diving in the water garden, and rambling in the woods, so that when night came, we were usually very glad to retire to our beds. But now that we had a desire to work at night, we felt a wish for candles. Won't a good blazing fire give you light enough? inquired Peterkin. Yes, replied Jack, quite enough. But then it will give us a great deal more than enough of heat in this warm climate of ours. True, said Peterkin, I forgot that. It would roast us. Well, as you are always doing that at any rate, remarked Jack, we could scarcely call it a change. But the fact is, I've been thinking over this subject before. There is a certain nut growing in these islands, which is called the candle nut, because the natives use it instead of candles. And I know all about it, and how to prepare it for burning. Then why don't you do it? interrupted Peterkin. Why have you kept us in the dark for so long, you vile philosopher? Because, said Jack, I have not seen the tree yet. And I'm not sure that I should know either the tree or the nuts if I did see them. You see, I forget the description. Ah, that's just the way with me, said Peterkin with a deep sigh. I never could keep in my mind for half an hour the few descriptions I ever attempted to remember. The very first voyage I ever made was caused by my mistaking a description, or forgetting it, which is the same thing, and a horrible voyage it was. I had to fight with the captain the whole way out, and made the homeward voyage by swimming. Come, Peterkin, said I, you can't get even me to believe that. It's not, but it's true, not withstanding, returned Peterkin, pretending to be hurt at my doubting his word. Let us hear how it happened, said Jack, while a good-natured smile overspread his face. Well, you must know, began Peterkin, that the very day before I went to sea I was greatly taken up with a game at hockey, which I was playing with my old school fellows for the last time before leaving them. You see, I was young then, Ralph, Peterkin gazed in an abstracted and melancholy manner out to sea. Well, in the midst of the game, my uncle, who had taken all the bother and trouble of getting me bound to Prentice and rigged out, came and took me aside, and told me that he was called suddenly away from home, and would not be able to see me aboard as he had intended. However, said he, the captain knows you are coming, so that's not of much consequence, but as you'll have to find the ship yourself, you must remember her name and description. Do you hear, boy? I certainly did hear, but I'm afraid I did not understand. For my mind was so taken up with the game, which I saw my side was losing, that I began to grow impatient, and the moment my uncle finished his description of the ship and bade me goodbye, I bolted back to my game, with only the confused idea of three masts, and a green painted trophale, and a gilt figurehead of Hercules with his club at the bow. Next day I was so much cast down with everybody saying goodbye, and a lot of my female friends crying horribly over me, that I did not start for the harbor where the ship was lying among a thousand others till it was almost too late. So I had to run the whole way. When I reached the pier, there were so many masts, and so much confusion that I felt quite humble-bumbled in my faculties. Now, said I to myself, Peterkin, you're in a fix. Then I fancied I saw a gilt figurehead and three masts belonging to a ship just about to start, so I darted on board, but speedily jumped on shore again when I found that two of the masts belonged to another vessel, and the figurehead to a third. At last I caught sight of what I made sure was it, a fine large vessel just casting off her moorings. The trophale was green, three masts, yes, that must be it, and the gilt figurehead of Hercules. To be sure, it had a three-pronged pitchfork in its hand instead of a club, but that might be my uncle's mistake, or perhaps Hercules sometimes buried his weapons. Cast off, roared a voice from the quarter-deck. Hold on, cried I, rushing frantically through the crowd. Hold on, hold on, repeated some of the bystanders while the men at the ropes delayed for a minute. This threw the captain into a frightful rage, for some of his friends had come down to see him off, and having his orders contradicted so flatly was too much for him. However, the delay was sufficient. I took a race and a good leap. The ropes were cast off. The steam-tug gave a puff, and we started. Suddenly the captain walks up to me. Where did you come from, you scamp? And what do you want here? Please, sir, said I, touching my cap. I'm your new apprentice, come aboard. New apprentice, said he, stamping. I've got no new apprentice. My boys are all aboard already. This is a trick, you young black guard. You've run away, you have. And the captain stamped about the deck and swore dreadfully, for you see the thought of having to stop the ship and lower a boat and lose half an hour, all for the sake of sending a small boy ashore, seemed to make him very angry. Besides, it was blow and fresh outside the harbor, so that to have let the steamer alongside to put me into it was no easy job. Just as we were passing the pierhead, where several boats were rowing into the harbor, the captain came up to me. You've run away, you black guard, he said, giving me a box on the ear. No, I haven't, said I, angrily, for the box was by no means a light one. Harky boy, can you swim? Yes, I can. Then do it, and seizing me by my trousers and the nape of my neck, he tossed me over the side into the sea. The fellows in the boats at the end of the pier backed their oars on seeing this, but observing that I could swim, they allowed me to make the best of my way to the pierhead. So you see, Ralph, that I really did swim my first homeward voyage. Jack laughed and patted Peterkin on the shoulder. But tell us about the candle-nut tree, said I. You were talking about it. Very true, said Jack, but I fear I can remember little about it. I believe the nut is about the size of a walnut, and I think the leaves are white, but I am not sure. Eh, ha-ha, explained Peterkin. I saw a tree answering to that description this very day. Did you? cried Jack. Is it far from this? No, not half a mile. Then lead me to it, said Jack, seizing his axe. In a few minutes, we were all three pushing through the underwood of the forest, headed by Peterkin. We soon came to the tree in question, which, after Jack had closely examined it, we concluded must be the candle-nut tree. Its leaves were of a beautiful silvery white and formed a fine contrast to the dark green foliage of the surrounding trees. We immediately filled our pockets with the nuts, after which Jack said, now, Peterkin, climb that coconut tree and cut me one of the long branches. This was soon done, but it cost us some trouble, for the stem was very high, and as Peterkin usually pulled nuts from the younger trees, he was not accustomed to climbing the high ones. The leaf or branch was a very large one, and we were surprised at its size and strength. Viewed from a little distance, the coconut tree seems to be a tall, straight stem, without a single branch except at the top, where there is a tuft of feathery-looking leaves that seem to wave like soft plumes in the wind. But when we saw one of these leaves and branches at our feet, we found it to be a strong stalk, about 15 feet long, with a number of narrow pointed leaflets ranged alternately on each side. But what seemed to us the most wonderful thing about it was a curious substance resembling cloth, which was wrapped round the thick end of the stalk, where it had been cut from the tree. Peterkin told us that he had the greatest difficulty in separating the branch from the stem on account of this substance, as it was wrapped quite round the tree, and he observed round all the other branches, thus forming a strong support to the large leaves while exposed to high winds. When I call this substance cloth, I do not exaggerate. Indeed, with regard to all the things I saw during my eventful career in the South Seas, I have been exceedingly careful not to exaggerate, or in any way to mislead or deceive my readers. This cloth, I say, was remarkably like to course brown cotton cloth. It had a seam or fiber down the center of it, from which diverged other fibers about the size of a bristle. There were two layers of these fibers very long and tough, the one layer crossing the other obliquely, and the whole was cemented together with a still finer fibers and adhesive substance. When we regarded it attentively, we could with difficulty believe that it had not been woven by human hands. This remarkable piece of cloth we stripped carefully off and found it to be above two feet long by a foot broad, and we carried it home with us as a great prize. Jack now took one of the leaflets and cutting out the central spine or stalk, hurried back with it to our camp. Having made a small fire, he baked the nuts slightly and then peeled off the hus. After this, he wished to bore a hole in them, which not having anything better at hand at the time, he did with the point of our useless pencil case. Then he strung them on the coconut nut spine and on putting a light to the topmost nut we found to our joy that it burned with a clear, beautiful flame upon seeing which Peter can sprang up and danced round the fire for at least five minutes in the excess of his satisfaction. Now lads, said Jack, extinguishing our candle, the sun will set in an hour, so we have no time to lose. I shall go and cut a young tree to make my bow out of, and you had better each of you go and select good, strong sticks for clubs and will set to work at them after dark. So saying, he shouldered his axe and went off, followed by Peterkin, while I took up the piece of newly discovered cloth and fell to examining its structure. So engrossed was I in this, that I was still sitting in the same attitude and occupation when my companions returned.  Oh Ralph, you're incorrigible. See, there's a club for you. I was sure when we left you looking at that bit of stuff that we would find you pouring over it when we came back. So I just cut a club for you as well as for myself. Thank you, Peterkin, said I.  Oh, as to that, returned Peterkin, I'll blow you up yet if you wish it, only it would be of no use if I did, for you'd be a perfect mule. As it was now getting dark, we lighted our candle and placing it in a holder made of two crossing branches inside of our bower. We seated ourselves on our leafy beds and began to work. I intend to appropriate the bow for my own use, said Jack, chipping the piece of wood he had brought with his axe. I used to be a pretty fair shot once. But what's that you're doing? He had it, looking at Peterkin, who had drawn the end of a long pole into the tent and was endeavoring to fit a small piece of the hoop iron to the end of it. I'm going to enlist into the lancers, answered Peterkin. You see, Jack, I find the club rather an unwieldy instrument from my delicately formed muscles and I flatter myself I shall do more execution with a spear. Well, if length constitutes power, said Jack, you'll certainly be invincible. The pole which Peterkin had cut was full 12 feet long, being a very strong but light and tough young tree, which merely required thinning at the butt to be a serviceable weapon. That's a very good idea, said I, which this, inquired Peterkin, pointing to the spear. Yes, I replied. Hmm, said he. You'd find it a pretty tough and matter-of-fact idea if you had it stuck through your gizzard, old boy. I mean the idea of making it is a good one, said I, laughing, and now that I think of it, I'll change my plan, too. I don't think much of a club, but I'll make me a sling out of this piece of cloth. I used to be very fond of slinging, ever since I read of David slaying Goliath, the Philistine, and I was once thought to be expert at it. So I set to work to manufacture a sling. For a long time, we all worked very busily without speaking. At length, Peterkin looked up. I say, Jack, I'm sorry to say I must apply to you for another strip of your handkerchief to tie on this rascally head whip. It's pretty well torn at any rate, so you won't miss it. Jack proceeded to comply with this request when Peterkin suddenly laid his hand on his arm and arrested. Hissed man, said he, be tender. You should never be needlessly cruel if you can help it. Do try to shave past Lord Nelson's melt without tearing it, if possible. Thanks, there are plenty more handkerchiefs on the coconut trees. Poor Peterkin. With what pleasant feelings I recall and record his jests and humorous sayings now, while we were thus engaged, we were startled by a distant but most strange and horrible cry. It seemed to come from the sea, but was so far away that we could not clearly distinguish its precise direction. Rushing out of our bower, we hastened down to the beach and stayed to listen.  The moon had risen and we could see the islands in and beyond the lagoon quite plainly, but there was no object visible to account for such a cry. A strong gust of wind was blowing from the point whence the sound came, but this died away while we were gazing out to sea. What can it be? said Peterkin in a low whisper, while we all involuntarily crept closer to each other. Do you know, said Jack, I have heard that mysterious sound twice before, but never so loud as tonight. Indeed, it was so faint that I thought I must have merely fancied it. So, as I did not wish to alarm you, I said nothing about it. We listened for a long time for the sound again, but as it did not come, we returned to the bower and resumed our work. Very strange, said Peterkin quite gravely. Do you believe in ghosts, Ralph? No, I answered, I do not. Nevertheless, I must confess that strange, unaccountable sounds such as we have just heard make me feel a little uneasy. What say you to it, Jack? I neither believe in ghosts nor feel uneasy, he replied. I never saw a ghost myself and I never met with anyone who had and I have generally found that strange and unaccountable things have almost always been accounted for and found to be quite simple on close examination. I certainly can't imagine what that sound is, but I'm quite sure I shall find out before long and if it's a ghost, I'll eat it, cried Peterkin. Yes, I'll eat it. Now then, my bow and two arrows are finished. So if you're ready, we had better turn in. By this time, Peterkin had thinned down his spear and tied an iron point very cleverly to the end of it. I had formed a sling, the lines of which were composed of thin strips of the coconut cloth, plated, and Jack had made a stout bow nearly five feet long with two arrows feathered with two or three large plumes which some bird had dropped. They had no barbs, but Jack said that if the arrows were well feathered, they did not require iron points, but would fly quite well if merely sharpened at the point which I did not know before. A feathered arrow without a barb said he is a good weapon, but a barbed arrow without feathers is utterly useless. The string of the bow was formed of our pieces of whip cord, part of which, as he did not like to cut it, was rolled around the bow. Although thus prepared for a start on the morrow, we thought it wise to exercise ourselves a little in the use of our weapons before starting, so we spent the whole of the next day in practicing. And it was well we did so, but we found that our arms were very imperfect and that we were far from perfect in the use of them. First, Jack found that the bow was much too strong and he had to thin it. Also, the spear was much too heavy and so had to be reduced in thickness, although nothing would induce Peterkin to have it shortened. My sling answered very well, but I had fallen so much out of practice that my first stone knocked off Peterkin's hat and narrowly missed making a second Goliath of him. However, having spent the whole day in diligent practice, we began to find some of our former expertness returning, at least Jack and I did. As for Peterkin being naturally a neat-handed boy, he soon handled his spear well and could run full tilt at a coconut and hit it with great precision once out of every five times. But I feel satisfied that we owed much of our rapid success to the unflagging energy of Jack, who insisted that since we had made him captain, we should obey him, and he kept us at work from morning till night, persevering at the same thing. Peterkin wished very much to run about and stick his spear into everything he passed, but Jack put up a coconut and would not let him leave off running at that for a moment, except when he wanted to rest. We laughed at Jack for this, but we were both convinced that it did us much good. That night we examined and repaired our arms ere we lay down to rest, although we were much fatigued, in order that we might be in readiness to set out on our expedition at daylight on the following morning. End of chapter eight, recording by Tom Weiss. Chapter nine of The Coral Island. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Weiss. The Coral Island by R. M. Valentine. Chapter nine. Prepare for a journey round the island. Seagacious reflections, mysterious appearances, and startling occurrences. Scarcely had the sun shut its first array across the bosom of the broad Pacific when Jack sprang to his feet and hallowing in Peterkin's ear to awaken him ran down the beach to take his customary dip in the sea. We did not, as was our want, bathe that morning in our water garden, but in order to save time, refreshed ourselves in the shallow water just opposite the bower. Our breakfast was also dispatched without loss of time, and in less than an hour afterwards, all our preparations for the journey were completed. In addition to his ordinary dress, Jack tied a belt of coconut cloth around his waist into which he thrust the axe. I was also advised to put on a belt and carry a short cudgel or bludgeon in it, for as Jack truly remarked, the sling would be of little use if we should chance to come to close quarters with any wild animal. As for Peterkin, notwithstanding that he carried such a long and I must add frightful-looking spear over his shoulder, we could not prevail on him to leave his club behind. For, he said, a spear at close quarters is not worth a button. I must say that it seemed to me that the club was to use his own style of language, not worth a buttonhole, for it was all knotted over at the head, something like the club which I remembered who observed in picture books of Jack and the Giant Killer, besides being so heavy that he required to grasp it with both hands in order to wield it at all. However, he took it with him, and in this manner we set out upon our travels. We did not consider it necessary to carry any food with us, as we knew that wherever we went we would be certain to fall in with coconut trees, having which we were amply supplied, as Peterkin said, with meat and drink and pocket-hankerchiefs. I took the precaution, however, to put the burning-glass into my pocket, lest we should want fire. The morning was exceedingly lovely. It was one of that very still and peaceful sort which made the few noises that we heard seem to be quiet noises. I know of no other way of expressing this idea. Noises which, so far from interrupting the universal tranquility of earth, sea, and sky, rather tended to reveal to us how quiet the world around us really was. Such sounds as I referred to were the peculiar melancholy, yet it seemed to me cheerful, like a plant of seed-birds floating on the glassy waters or sailing in the sky. Also the subdued twittering of little birds among the bushes, the faint ripples on the beach, and the solemn boom of the surf upon the distant coral reef. We felt very glad in our hearts as we walked along the sands side by side. For my part, I felt so deeply overjoyed that I was surprised that my own sensations fell into a reverie upon the causes of happiness. I came to the conclusion that a state of profound peace and repose, both in regard to outward objects and within the soul, is the happiest condition in which man can be placed. For although I had many a time been most joyful and happy when engaged in bustling, energetic, active pursuits or amusements, I never found that such joy or satisfaction was so deep or so pleasant to reflect upon as that which I now experienced. And I was the more confirmed in this opinion when I observed, and indeed, as told by himself, that Peterkin's happiness was also very great. Yet he did not express this by dancing as was his want, nor did he give so much as a single shout, but walked quietly between us with his eye sparkling and a joyful smile upon his countenance. My reader must not suppose that I have thought all this in the clear and methodical manner in which I set it down here. These thoughts did indeed pass through my mind, but they did so in a very confused and indefinite manner, for I was young at the time and not much given to deep reflections. Neither did I consider that the peace whereof I write is not to be found in this world, at least in its perfection. Although I have since learned that, by religion, a man may attain to a very great degree of it. I have said that Peterkin walked along the sands between us. We had two ways of walking together about our island. When we traveled through the woods, we always did so in single file, as by this method we advanced with greater facility, the one treading in the other's footsteps. In such cases Jack always took the lead. Peterkin followed and I brought up the rear. But when we traveled along the sands, which extended almost in an unbroken line of glistening white round the island, we marched abreast as we found this method more sociable and every way more pleasant. Jack, being the tallest, walked next to the sea and Peterkin marched between us, as by this arrangement, either of us could talk to him or he to us. While if Jack and I happened to wish to converse, we could conveniently do so over Peterkin's head. Peterkin used to say, in reference to this arrangement, that had he been as tall as either of us, our order of march might have been the same, or as Jack often used to scold him for, as Jack often used to scold him for letting everything we said to him pass in at one ear and out at the other. His head could, of course, form no interruption to our discourse. We were now fairly started. Half a mile's walk conveyed us round a bend in the land which shut out our bower from view and for some time we advanced at a brisk pace without speaking, though our eyes were not idle but noted everything in the woods, on the shore or in the sea that was interesting. And passing the ridge of land that formed one side of our valley, the valley of the wreck, we beheld another small veil lying before us in all the luxuriant loveliness of tropical vegetation. We had indeed seen it before from the mountaintop but we had no idea that it would turn out to be so much more lovely when we were close to it. We were about to commence the exploration of this valley when Peterkin stopped us and directed our attention to a very remarkable appearance in advance along the shore. What's yawn, thank you, said he, leveling his spear as if he expected an immediate attack from the object in question, though it was full half a mile distant. As he spoke, there appeared a white column above the rocks as if of steam or spray. It rose upwards to a height of several feet and then disappeared. Had this been near the sea, we would not have been so greatly surprised as it might in that case have been the surf. For at this part of the coast, the coral reef approached so nearer to the island that in some parts it almost joined it. There was therefore no lagoon between and the heavy surf of the ocean beat almost up to the rocks. But this white column appeared about 50 yards inland. The rocks at the place were rugged and they stretched across the sandy beach into the sea. Scars had we ceased expressing our surprise at this site when another column flew upwards for a few seconds, not far from the spot where the first had been seen and disappeared. And so at long irregular intervals, these strange sites recurred. We were now quite sure that the columns were watery or composed of spray, but what caused them we could not guess, so we determined to go and see. In a few minutes we gained the spot, which was very rugged and precipitous and moreover quite damp with the falling of the spray. We had much adieu to pass over dry shod. The ground also was full of holes here and there. Now while we stood anxiously waiting for the reappearance of these waterspouts, we heard a low rumbling sound near us, which quickly increased to a girdling and hissing sound and a moment afterwards a thick spout of water burst upwards from a hole in the rock and spout it into the air with much violence and so close to where Jack and I were standing that it nearly touched us. We sprang aside, but not before a cloud of spray descended and drenched us both to the skin.  Mind your eye, he shouted eagerly, there goes another. The words were scarcely out of his mouth when there came up a spout from another hole which served us exactly in the same manner as before. Peterkin now shrieked with laughter, but his merriment was abruptly put to a stop by the girly noise occurring close to where he stood. Where it'll spout this time, I wonder, he said, looking about with some anxiety and preparing to run. Suddenly there came a loud hiss or snort. A fierce spout of water burst up between Peterkin's legs, blew him off his feet, enveloped him in its spray and hurled him to the ground. He fell with so much violence that we feared he must have broken some of his bones and ran anxiously to his assistance. But fortunately he had fallen on a clump of tangled herbage in which he lay sprawling in a most deplorable condition. It was now our turn to laugh, but as we were not quite yet sure that he was unhurt and as we knew not when or where the next spout might arise, we assisted him hastily to jump up and hurry from the spot. I may here add that although I am quite certain that the spout of water was very strong and that it blew Peterkin completely off his legs, I am not quite certain of the exact height to which it lifted him, being somewhat startled by the event and blinded partially by the spray, so that my power of observation was somewhat impaired for the moment. What's to be done now? asked Peterkin ruefully. Make a fire, lad, and dry ourselves, replied Jack, and here is material ready to our hand, said I, picking up a dried branch of tree as we hurried up to the woods. In about an hour after this mishap, our clothes were again dried. While they were hanging up before the fire, we walked down to the beach and soon observed that these curious spouts took place immediately after the fall of a huge wave, never before it. And moreover, that the spouts did not take place excepting when the villa was an extremely large one. From this we concluded that there must be a subterraneous channel in the rock into which the water was driven by the larger waves and finding no way of escape except through these small holes was thus forced up violently through them. At any rate, we could not conceive any other reason for these strange water spouts, and as this seemed a very simple and probable one, we forthwith adopted it. I say, Ralph, what's that in the water? Is it a shark, said Jack, just as we were about to quit the place? I immediately ran to the overhanging ledge of rock, from which he was looking down into the sea and bent over it. Then I saw a very faint pale object of greenish color, which seemed to move slightly while I looked at it. It's like a fish of some sort, said I. Hello, Peterkin, cried Jack. That's your spear, here's work for it. But when we tried to reach the object, the spear proved to be too short. There now, said Peterkin with a sneer. You were always telling me it was too long. Jack now drove the spear horsibly towards the object and let go his hold. But although it seemed to be well-aimed, he must have missed for the handle soon rose again. And when the spear was drawn up, there was the pale green object in exactly the same spot, slowly moving its tail. Very odd, said Jack. But although it was undoubtedly very odd, and although Jack and all of us plunged the spear at it repeatedly, we could neither hit it nor drive it away. So we were compelled to continue our journey without discovering what it was. I was very much perplexed at this strange appearance in the water and could not get it out of my mind for a long time afterwards. However, I quieted it myself by resolving that I would pay a visit to it again at some more convenient season. End of chapter nine, recording by Tom Weiss. Chapter 10 of the Coral Island. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Weiss. The Coral Island by R. M. Valentine. Chapter 10. Make discovery of many excellent roots and fruits. The resources of the Coral Island gradually unfolded. The Banyan Tree. Another tree, which is supported by natural planks. Waterfowl found a very remarkable discovery in a very peculiar murder. We luxuriate on the fat of the land. Our examination of the Little Valley proved to be altogether most satisfactory. We found in it not only similar trees to those we had already seen in our own valley, but also one or two others of a different species. We had also the satisfaction of discovering a peculiar vegetable, which, Jack concluded, must certainly be that of which he had read as being very common among the South Sea Islanders, and which was named Tarot. Also, we found a large supply of yams and another root like a potato in appearance. As these were all quite new to us, we regarded our lot as a most fortunate one in being thus cast on an island which was so prolific and so well-stored with all the necessaries of life. Long afterwards, we found out that this island of ours was no better in these respects than thousands of other islands in those seas. Indeed, many of them were much richer and more productive, but that did not render us the less grateful for our present good fortune. We each put one of these roots in our pocket, intending to use them for our supper, of which more hereafter. We also saw many beautiful birds here, and traces of some four-footed animal again. Meanwhile, the sun began to descend, so we returned to the shore and pushed on round of spouting rocks into the next valley. This was that valley of which I have spoken as running across the entire island. It was by far the largest and most beautiful that we had yet looked upon. Here were trees of every shape and size and hue which it is possible to conceive of, many of which we had not seen in the other valleys. For the stream in this valley being larger and the mold much richer than in the valley of the wreck, it was clothed with the more luxuriant growth of trees and plants. Some trees were dark, glossy green. Others of a rich and warm hue, contrasting well with those of a pale light green which were everywhere abundant. Among these we recognized the broad dark heads of the breadfruit with its golden fruit, the pure silvery foliage of the candle nut and several species which bore a strong resemblance to the pine. While here and there in groups and in single trees rose the tall forms of the coconut palms, spreading abroad and waving their graceful plumes high above all the rest, as if they were a superior race of stately giants keeping guard over these luxuriant forests. Oh, it was a most enchanting scene and I thank God for having created such delightful spots for the use of man. Now, while we were gazing around us in silent admiration, Jack uttered an exclamation of surprise and pointing to an object a little to one side of us, said, that's a banyan tree. And what's a banyan tree? inquired Peterkin as we walked towards it. A very curious one, as you shall see presently, replied Jack. It is called the AOA here, if I recollect rightly, and has a wonderful peculiarity about it. What an enormous one it is to be sure. It, replied Peterkin, why? There are dozens of banyans here. What do you mean by talking bad grammar? Is your philosophy deserting you, Jack? There is but one tree here of this kind, returned Jack, as you will perceive if you will examine it. And sure enough, we did find that what we had supposed was a forest of trees was in reality only one. Its bark was of a light color and had a shining appearance, the leaves being lance shaped, small, and of a beautiful pea green. But the wonderful thing about it was that the branches, which grew out from the stem horizontally, sent down long shoots or fibers to the ground, which, taking root, had themselves become trees and were covered with bark like the tree itself. Many of these fibers had descended from the branches at various distances and thus supported them on natural pillars, some of which were so large and strong that it was not easy at first to distinguish the offspring from the parent stem. The fibers were of all sizes and in all states of advancement, from the pillars we have just mentioned to small cords which hung down and were about to take root and thin brown threads still far from the ground, which swayed about with every motion of wind. In short, it seemed to us that if there were only space afforded to it, this single tree would at length cover the whole island. Shortly after this, we came upon another remarkable tree, which, as its peculiar formation afterwards proved extremely useful to us, merits description. It was a splendid chestnut, but its proper name Jack did not know. However, there were quantities of fine nuts upon it, some of which we put in our pockets. But its stem was the most wonderful part of it. It rose to about 12 feet without a branch and was not of great thickness. On the contrary, it was remarkably slender for the size of the tree. But to make up for this, there were four or five wonderful projections in this stem, which I cannot better describe than by asking the reader to suppose that five planks of two inches thick and three feet broad had been placed round the trunk of the tree with their edges closely fixed to it, from the ground up to the branches, and that these planks had been covered over with the bark of the tree and incorporated with it. In short, they were just natural buttresses, without which the stem could not have supported its heavy and embracious top. We found these chestnuts to be very numerous. They grew chiefly on the banks of the stream and were of all sizes. While we were examining a small tree of this kind, Jack chipped a piece off a buttress with his axe and found the wood to be firm and easily cut. He then struck the axe into it with all his force and very soon split it off close to the tree, first, however, having cut it across transversely above and below. By this means he satisfied himself that we could now obtain short planks, as it were already sawn of any size and thickness that we desired, which was a very great discovery indeed, perhaps the most important we had yet made. We now winded our way back to the coast, intending to encamp near the beach, as we found that the mosquitoes were troublesome in the forest. On our way, we could not help admiring the bird which flew and chirped around us. Among them we observed a pretty kind of parakeet, with a green body, a blue head, and a red breast. Also a few beautiful turtle doves and several flocks of wood pigeons. The hues of many of these birds were extremely vivid, bright green, blue, and scarlet being the prevailing tints. We made several attempts throughout the day to bring down one of these, both with the bow and the sling, not for mere sport, but to a certain weather they were good for food. But we invariably missed, although once or twice we were very near hitting. As evening drew on, however, a flock of pigeons flew past. I slung a stone into the midst of them at a venture and had the good fortune to kill one. We were startled soon after by a loud whistling noise above our heads, and on looking up saw a flock of wild ducks making for the coast. We watched these, and observing where they alighted, followed them until we came upon a most lovely blue lake, not more than two hundred yards long, embusomed in verdant trees. Its placid surface, which reflected every leaf and stem as if in a mirror, was covered with various species of wild ducks, feeding among the sedges and broadleaved water plants which floated on it, while numerous birds like water hens ran to and fro most busily on its margin. These all, with one accord, flew tumultuously away the instant we made our appearance. While walking along the margin, we observed fish in the water, but of what sort we could not tell. Now, as we neared the shore, Jack and I said we could go a little out of our way to see if we could procure one of those ducks. So, directing Peterkin to go straight to the shore and kindle a fire, we separated, promising to rejoin him speedily. But we did not find the ducks, although we made a diligent search for half an hour. We were about to retrace our steps when we were arrested by one of the strangest sites that we had yet beheld. Just in front of us, at the distance of about ten yards, grew a superb tree, which certainly was the largest we had seen on the island. Its trunk was at least five feet in diameter, with a smooth gray bark. Above this, the spreading branches were clothed with light green leaves, amid which were clusters of bright yellow fruit, so numerous as to weigh down the bows with their great weight. This fruit seemed to be of the plum species, of an oblong form, and a good deal larger than the magnum bonum plum. The ground at the foot of this tree was thickly strewn with the fallen fruit, in the midst of which lay sleeping, in every possible attitude, at least twenty hogs of all ages and sizes, apparently quite surferent with the recent banquet. Jack and I could scarce restrain our laughter as we gazed at these coarse, fat, ill-looking animals while they lay groaning and snoring. Heavily amid the remains of their supper.  I'll try to put an arrow into young little pig. Don't you think we had better put them up first? I whispered. It seems cruel to kill them while asleep. If I wanted sport, Ralph, I would certainly set them up, but as we only want pork, we'll let them lie. Besides, we're not sure of killing them, so fire away. Thus it vanished. I slung my stone with so good aim that it went bang against the hog's flank as if against the head of a drum, but it had no other effect than that of causing the animal to start to its feet with a frightful yell of surprise and scamper away.  I've missed after all, cried Jack, darting forward with uplifted axe, while the little pig uttered a loud squeal, tore the arrow from the ground and ran away with it, along with the whole drove into the bushes and disappeared, though we heard them screaming long afterwards in the distance. That's very provoking now, said Jack, rubbing the point of his nose. Very, I replied, stroking my chin. Well, we must make haste and rejoin Peterkin, said Jack. It's getting late. And without further remark, we threaded our way quickly through the woods towards the shore. When we reached it, we found wood laid out, the fire lighted and beginning to kindle up, with other signs of preparation for our encampment. But Peterkin was nowhere to be found. We wondered very much at this, but Jack suggested that he might have gone to fetch water, so he gave a shout to let him know that we had arrived, and sat down upon a rock, while I threw off my jacket and seized the axe, intending to split up one or two billets of wood. But I had scarce moved from the spot, when, in the distance, we heard a most appalling shriek, which was followed up by a course of yells from the hogs, and allowed, Hurrah! I do believe, said I, that Peterkin has met with the hogs. When Greek meets Greek, said Jack, soliloquizing. Then comes the tug of Hurrah! shouted Peterkin in the distance. We turned hastily towards the direction whence the sound came, and soon described Peterkin, walking along the beach towards us, with a little pig transfixed on the end of his long spear. Well done, my boy, explained Jack, slapping him on the shoulder when he came up. You're the best shot amongst us. Look here, Jack, cried Peterkin, as he disengaged the animal from his spear. Do you recognize that hole? said he, pointing to the pig's ear. And are you familiar with this arrow, eh? Well I declare, said Jack. Of course you do, interrupted Peterkin. But pray restrain your declarations at this time, and let's have supper, for I am uncommonly hungry, I can tell you. And it's no joke to charge a whole herd of swine with their great grandmother, wrestling like a giant porcupine at the head of them. We now set about preparing supper, and truly a good display of viens we made when all was laid out on a flat rock in the light of the blazing fire. There was, first of all, the little pig. Then there were the taro root, and the yam, and the potato, and six plums, and lastly the wood pigeon. To these Peterkin added a bit of sugarcane, which he had cut from a little patch of that plant which he had found not long after separating from us. And, said he, the patch was somewhat in a square form, which convinces me it must have been planted by man. Very likely, replied Jack. From all we have seen, I'm inclined to think that some of the savages must have dwelt here long ago. We found no small difficulty in making up our minds how we were to cook the pig. None of us had ever cut one up before, and we did not know exactly how to begin. Besides, we had nothing but the axe to do it with, our knife having been forgotten. At last, Jack started up and said, Don't let us waste more time talking about it, boys. Hold it up, Peterkin. There, lay the hind leg on this block of wood so, and he cut it off, with a large portion of the haunch at a single blow of the axe. Now the other, that's it. And having thus cut off the two hind legs, he made several deep gashes in them, thrust a sharp pointed stick through each, and stuck them up before the blaze to roast. The wood pigeon was then split open, quite flat, washed clean in salt water, and treated in a similar manner. While these were cooking, we scraped a hole in the sand and ashes under the fire, into which we put our vegetables and covered them up. The taro root was of an oval shape, about ten inches long, and four or five thick. It was of a mottled gray color, and had a thick rind. We found it somewhat like an Irish potato, and exceedingly good. The yam was roundish, and had a rough brown skin. It was very sweet, and well-flavored. The potato, we were surprised to find, was quite sweet, and exceedingly palatable, as also were the plums, and indeed the pork and pigeon, too, when we came to taste them. Altogether, this was decidedly the most luxurious supper we had enjoyed for many a day. Jack said it was out of sight better than we ever got on board ship, and Peterkin said he feared that if we should remain long on the island, we would infallibly become a glutton or an epicure. We're at Jack remarked that he need not fear that, or he was both already. And so, having eaten our fill, not forgetting to finish off with a plum, we laid ourselves comfortably down to sleep upon a couch of branches, under the overhanging ledge of a coral rock. End of Chapter 10, Recording by Tom Weiss Chapter 11 of The Coral Island This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Weiss The Coral Island by R. M. Valentine Chapter 11. Effects of over-eating and reflections thereon Humble advice regarding cold water The horrible cry accounted for The curious birds called penguins The culliarity of the coconut palm Questions on the formation of coral islands Mysterious footsteps Strange discoveries and sad sights When we awoke on the following morning, we found that the sun was already a good way above the horizon, so I came to the conclusion that a heavy supper is not conducive to early rising. Nevertheless, we felt remarkably strong and well, and much disposed to have our breakfast. First, however, we had our customary morning bath, which refreshed us greatly. I have often wondered very much in after years that the inhabitants of my own dear land did not make more frequent use of this most charming element, water, I mean in the way of cold bathing. Of course, I have perceived that it is not convenient for them to go into the sea for the rivers in winter, as we used to do on the coral island, but then I knew from experience that a large washing tub and a sponge do form a most pleasant substitute. The feelings of freshness, of cleanliness, of vigor, and extreme hilarity that always followed my baths in the sea, and even when in England, my ablutions in the wash tub were so delightful that I would sooner have gone without my breakfast than without my bath in cold water. My readers will forgive me for asking whether they are in the habit of bathing thus every morning, and if they answer no, they will pardon me for recommending them to begin at once. Of late years, since retiring from the stirring life of adventure which I have led so long in foreign climes, I have heard of a system called the cold water cure. Now, I do not know much about that system, so I do not mean to uphold it, neither do I intend to run it down. Perhaps in reference to it, I may just hint that there may be too much of a good thing, I know not. But of this I am quite certain, that there may also be too little of a good thing, and the great delight that I have had in cold bathing during the course of my adventurous career inclines me to think that it is better to risk taking too much than to content oneself with too little. Such is my opinion, derived from much experience, but I put it before my readers with the utmost diffidence and with profound modesty, knowing that it may possibly jar with their feelings of confidence in their own ability to know and judge as to what is best and fittest in reference to their own affairs. But to return from this digression, for which I humbly crave forgiveness, we had not advanced on our journey much above a mile or so, and were just beginning to feel the pleasant glow that usually accompanies a vigorous exercise, when, on turning a point that revealed to us a new and beautiful cluster of islands, we were suddenly arrested by the appalling cry which had so alarmed us a few nights before. But this time we were by no means so much alarmed as on the previous occasion, because, whereas at that time it was night, now it was day, and I have always found, though I am unable to account for it, that daylight vanishes many of the fears that are apt to assail us in the dark. On hearing the sound, Hedercan instantly threw forward his sphere. Now, what can it be, said he, looking round a jet? I tell you what it is. If we are to go on being pulled up in a constant state of horror and astonishment, as we have been for the last week, the sooner we're out of this island the better, notwithstanding the yams and lemonade and pork and plums. Hedercan's mark was followed by a repetition of the cry, louder than before. It comes from one of these islands, said Jack. It must be the point of a jackass, then, said Hedercan, for I never heard anything so like. We all turned our eyes towards the cluster of islands, where, on the largest, we observed curious objects moving on the shore. Soldiers they are, that's flat, cried Hedercan, gazing at them in the utmost amazement, and in truth Hedercan's remark seemed to me to be correct, for at the distance from which we saw them they appeared to be an army of soldiers. There they stood, rank and file, in lines and in squares, marching and counter- marching, with blue coats and white trousers. While we were looking at them the dreadful cry came again over the water, and Hedercan suggested it must be a regiment sent out to massacre the natives in cold blood. At this remark Jack laughed and said, Why, Hedercan, they are penguins. Penguins, repeat it, Hedercan. I, penguins, Hedercan, penguins, nothing more or less than big seabirds, as you shall see one of these days when we pay them a visit in our boat, which I mean to set about building the moment we return to our power. So then our dreadful yelling ghosts and our murdering army of soldiers, remarked Hedercan, have dwindled down to penguins, big seabirds? Very good. Then I propose that we continue our journey as fast as possible, lest our island should be converted into a dream before we get completely rounded. Now, as we continued our way, I pondered much over this new discovery and the singular appearance of these birds, of which Jack could only give us a very slight and vague account, and I began to long to commence our boat in order that we might go and inspect them more narrowly. But by degrees these thoughts left me, and I began to be much taken up again with the interesting peculiarities of the country which we were passing through. The second night we passed in a manner somewhat similar to the first, at about two-thirds of the way round the island as we calculated, and we hoped to sleep on the night following at our bower. I will not hear notes so particularly all that we said and saw during the course of the second day as we did not make any further discoveries of great importance. The shore along which we traveled, and the various parts of the woods through which we passed, were similar to those which have been already treated of. There were one or two observations that we made, however, and these were as follows. We saw that while many of the large fruit-bearing trees grew only in the valleys, and some of them only near the banks of the streams, where the soil was peculiarly rich, the coconut nut palm grew in every place whatsoever, not only on the hillsides, but also on the seashore, and even, as has already been stated, on the coral reef itself, where the soil, if we may use the name, was nothing better than loose sand mingled with broken shells and coral rock. So near to the sea, too, did this useful tree grow, that in many places its roots were washed away by the spray from the breakers. Yet we found the trees growing thus on the sands to be quite as luxuriant as those growing in the valleys, and the fruit as good and refreshing also. Besides this, I noticed that on the summit of the high mountain, which we once more ascended at a different point from our first descent, were found abundance of shells and broken coral formations, which Jack and I agreed proved either that this island must have once been under the sea, or that the sea must once have been above the island. In other words, that as shells and coral could not possibly climb to the mountaintop, they must have been washed upon it while the mountaintop was on a level with the sea. We pondered this very much, and we put to ourselves the question, what raised the island to its present height above the sea? But to this we could by no means give to ourselves a satisfactory reply. Jack thought it might have been blown up by a volcano, and Peterkin said he thought it must have jumped up of its own accord. We also noticed what had escaped us before, that the solid rocks of which the island was formed were quite different from the live coral rocks on the shore, where the wonderful little insects were continually working. They seemed indeed to be of the same material, a substance like limestone, but while the coral rocks were quite full of minute cells in which the insects lived, the other rocks inland were hard and solid without the appearance of cells at all. Our thoughts and conversations on this subject were sometimes so profound that Peterkin said we should certainly get drowned in them at last, even although we were such good divers. Nevertheless, we did not allow his pleasantry on this and similar points to deter us from making our notes and observations as we went along. We found several more droves of hogs in the woods, but abstained from killing any of them, having more than sufficient for our present necessities. We saw also many of their footprints in this neighborhood. Among these we also observed the footprints of a smaller animal, which we examined with much care, but could form no certain opinion as to them. Peterkin thought they were those of a little dog, but Jack and I thought differently. We became very curious on this matter, the more so that we observed these footprints to lies scattered about in one locality, as if the animal which had made them was wandering round about in a very irregular manner and without any object in view. Early in the forenoon of our third day we observed these footprints to be much more numerous than ever, and in one particular spot they diverged off into the woods in a regular beaten track, which was, however, so closely beset with bushes that we pushed through it with difficulty. We had now become so anxious to find out what animal this was and where it went to that we determined to follow the track and, if possible, clear up the mystery. Peterkin said, in a bandering tone, that he was sure it would be cleared up, as usual, in some frightfully simple way and proved to be no mystery at all. The beaten track seemed much too large to have been formed by the animal itself, and we concluded that some larger animal had made it and that the smaller one made use of it, but everywhere the creeping plants and tangled bushes crossed our path so that we forced our way along with some difficulty. Suddenly, as we came upon an open space, we heard a faint cry and observed a black animal standing in the track before us. A wild cat cried jack, fitting a narrow to his bow, and discharging it so hastily that he missed the animal and hit the earth about half a foot to one side of it. To our surprise, the wild cat did not fly, but walked slowly towards the arrow and snuffed at it. That's the most comical wild cat I ever saw, cried jack. It's a tame wild cat, I think, said Peterkin, leveling his spear to make a charge. Stop, cried I, laying my hand on his shoulder. I do believe the poor beast is blind. See, it strikes against the branches as it walks along. It must be a very old one, and I hastened toward it. Only think, said Peterkin, with a suppressed laugh, of a superannuated wild cat. We now found that the poor cat was not only blind, or nearly so, but extremely deaf, as it did not hear our footsteps until we were quite close behind it. Then it sprang round and, putting up its back and tail, while the black hair stood all on end, ordered a horse mew and a fuff. Poor thing, said Peterkin, gently extending his hand and endeavouring to pat the cat's head.  No sooner did the cat hear these sounds than all signs of anger fled, and advancing eagerly to Peterkin, it allowed itself to be stroked, and rubbed itself against his legs, purring loudly all the time, and showing every symptom of the most extreme delight. It's no more a wild cat than I am, cried Peterkin, taking it in his arms.  We now crowded around Peterkin, and were not a little surprised, and, to say truth, a good deal affected by the sight of the poor animal's excessive joy. It rubbed its head against Peterkin's cheek, licked his chin, and thrust its head almost violently into his neck, while it heard more loudly than I ever heard a cat purr before, and appeared to be so much overpowered by its feelings that it occasionally mewed and heard almost in the same breath. Such demonstrations of joy and affection led us at once to conclude that this poor cat must have known man before, and we conjectured that it had been left either accidentally or by design on the island many years ago, and was now evancing its extreme joy at meeting once more with human beings. While we were fondling the cat and talking about it, Jack glanced around the open space in the midst of which we stood. Hello, exclaimed he. This looks something like a clearing. The axe has been at work here. Just look at these tree stumps. We now turn to examine these, and without doubt we found trees that had been cut down here and there. Also stumps and broken branches, all of which, however, were completely covered with moss, and bore evidence of having been in this condition for some years. No human footprints were to be seen, either on the track or among the bushes, but those of the cat were found everywhere. We now determined to follow up the track as far as it went, and Peterkin put the cat down, but it seemed to be so weak and mewed so very pitifully that he took it up again and carried it in his arms, where in a few minutes it fell sound asleep. About ten yards farther on, the fell trees became more numerous, and the track diverging to the right followed for a short space the banks of a stream. Suddenly we came to a spot where once must have been a rude bridge, the stones of which were scattered in the stream, and those on each bank entirely covered over with moss. In silent surprise and expectancy we continued to advance, and a few yards farther on beheld under the shelter of some breadfruit trees a small hut or cottage. I cannot hope to convey to my readers a very correct idea of the feelings that affected us on witnessing this unexpected sight. We stood for a long time in silent wonder, for there was a deep and most melancholy stillness about the place that quite overpowered us, and when we did at length speak it was in subdued whispers, as if we were surrounded by some awful or supernatural influence. Even Peterkin's voice, usually so quick and lively on all occasions, was hushed now, for there was a dreariness about this silent, lonely, uninhabited cottage so strange in its appearance, so far away from the usual dwellings of man, so old, decayed, and deserted in its aspect that fell upon our spirits like a thick cloud, and blotted out, as with appalled, the cheerful sunshine that had filled us since the commencement of our tour round the island. The hut or cottage was rude and simple in its construction. It was not more than twelve feet long by ten feet broad, and about seven or eight feet high. It had one window, or rather a small frame in which a window might perhaps once have been, but which was now empty. The door was exceedingly low and formed of rough boards, and the roof was covered with broad coconut and plantain leaves, but every part of it was in a state of the utmost decay. Moss and green matter grew in spots all over it. The woodwork was quite perforated with holes, the roof had nearly fallen in, and appeared to be prevented from doing so all together by the thick matting of creeping plants, and the interlaced branches which years of neglect had allowed to cover it almost entirely, while the thick luxuriant branches of the breadfruit and other trees spread above it and flung a deep somber shadow over the spot as if to guard it from the heat and the light of day. We conversed long and in whispers about this strange habitation ere we ventured to approach it, and when at length we did so it was, at least on my part, with feelings of awe. At first Jack endeavored to peep in at the window, but from the deep shadow of the trees already mentioned and the gloom within he could not clearly discern objects, so we lifted the latch and pushed open the door. We observed that the latch was made of iron and almost eaten away with rust. In the light condition were also the hinges which creaked as the door swung back. On entering we stood still and gazed around us, while we were much impressed with the dreary stillness of the room. But what we saw there surprised and shocked us, not a little. There was no furniture in the apartment save a little wooden stool and an iron pot. The latter almost eaten through with rust. In the corner farthest from the door was a low bedstead on which lay two skeletons embedded in a little heap of dry dust. With beating hearts we went forward to examine them. One was the skeleton of a man, the other that of a dog which was extended close beside that of the man with its head resting on his bosom. Now we were very much concerned about this discovery and could scarce refrain from tears on beholding these sad remains. After some time we began to talk about what we had seen and to examine in and around the hut in order to discover some clue to the name or history of this poor man who had thus died in solitude with none to mourn his loss save his cat and his faithful dog. But we found nothing, neither a book nor a scrap of paper. We found, however, the decayed remains of what appeared to have been clothing and an old axe. But none of these things wore marks of any kind, and indeed they were so much decayed as to convince us that they had lain in the condition in which we found them for many years. This discovery now accounted to us for the tree stump at the top of the mountain with the initials cut on it, also for the patch of sugarcane and other traces of man which we had met with in the course of our rambles over the island. And we were much saddened by the reflection that the lot of this poor wanderer might possibly be our own after many years residents on the island, unless we should be rescued by the visit of some vessel or the arrival of natives. Having no clue whatever to account for the presence of this poor human being in such a lonely spot, we fell to conjecturing what could have brought him there. I was inclined to think that he must have been a ship-direct sailor whose vessel had been lost here and all the crew drowned except himself and his dog and cat. But Jack thought it more likely that he had run away from his vessel and had taken the dog and cat to keep him company. We were also much occupied in our minds with the wonderful difference between the cat and the dog. For here we saw that while the one perished like a loving friend by its master's side, with its head resting on his bosom, the other had sought to sustain itself by prowling abroad in the forest and had lived in solitude to a good old age. However, we did not conclude from this that the cat was destitute of affection, for we could not forget its emotions on first meeting with us. But we saw from this that the dog had a great deal more of generous love in its nature than the cat, because it not only found it impossible to live after the death of its master, but it must needs when it came to die, crawled to his side and rest its head upon his lifeless breast. While we were thinking on these things and examining into everything about the room, we were attracted by an exclamation for Peterton. I say, Jack, said he, here is something that will be of use to us. What is it? said Jack, hastening across the room. An old pistol, replied Peterton, holding up the weapon, which he had just pulled from under a heap of broken wood and rubbish that lay in a corner. That indeed might have been useful, said Jack, examining it, if we had any powder. But I suspect the bow and the sling will prove more serviceable. True, I forgot about that, said Peterton, but we may as well take it with us, for the flint will serve to strike fire with when the sun does not shine. After having spent more than an hour at this place, without discovering anything of further interest, Peterton took up the old cat, which had lain very contentedly asleep on the stool whereon he had placed it, and we prepared to take our departure. In leaving the hut, Jack stumbled heavily against the doorpost, which was so much decayed as to break across, and the whole fabric of the hut seemed ready to tumble about our ears. This put it into our heads that we might as well pull it down, and so form a mound over the skeleton. Jack, therefore with his axe, cut down the other doorpost, which, when it was done, brought the whole hut in ruins to the ground, and thus formed a grave to the bones of the poor recluse and his dog. Then we left the spot, having brought away the iron pot, the pistol, and the old axe, as they might be of much use to us hereafter. During the rest of this day, we pursued our journey, and examined the other end of the large valley, which we found to be so much alike to the parts already described, that I shall not recount the particulars of what we saw in this place. I may, however, remark that we did not quite recover our formal cheerful spirits until we arrived at our bower, which we did late in the evening, and found everything just in the same condition as we had left it three days before. End of Chapter 11 Recording by Tom Weiss Chapter 12 of The Coral Island This Lieberbach's recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Weiss The Coral Island by R. M. Ballantine Chapter 12 Something wrong with the tank Jack's wisdom and Peterkin's impertinence Wonderful behavior of a crab Good wishes for those who dwell far from the sea. Jack commences to build a little boat. Rest is sweet, as well for the body as for the mind. During my long experience amid the vicissitudes of a checkered life, I have found that periods of profound rest at certain intervals, in addition to the ordinary hours of repose, are necessary to the well-being of man. And the nature, as well as the period of this rest, varies according to different temperaments of individuals and the peculiar circumstances in which they may chance to be placed. To those who work with their minds, bodily labor is rest. To those who labor with the body, deep sleep is rest. To the downcast, the weary, and the sourful, joy and peace are rest. Nay, further, I think that to the gay, the frivolous, the reckless, when sated with pleasures that cannot last, even sorrow proves to be rest of a kind, although, per chance, it were better that I should call it relief than rest. There is, indeed, but one class of men to whom rest is denied. There is no rest to the wicked. At this I do but hint, however, as I treat not of that rest which is spiritual, but more particularly of that which applies to the mind and to the body. Of this rest we stood much in need of on our return home, and we found it exceedingly sweet when we indulged in it after completing the journey just related. It had not, indeed, been a very long journey. Nevertheless, we had pursued it so diligently that our frames were not a little prostrated. Our minds were also very much exhausted in consequence of the many surprises, frequent alarms, and much profound thought to which they had been subjected, so that when we lay down, on the night of our return, under the shelter of the bower, we fell immediately into very deep repose. I can state this with much certainty, for Jack afterwards admitted the fact, and Peterkin, although he stoutly denied it, I heard snoring loudly at least two minutes after lying down. In this condition we remained all night, and the whole of the following day without awaking once, or so much as moving our positions. When we did awake it was near sunset, and we were all in such a state of lassitude that we merely rose to swallow a mouthful of food. As Peterkin remarked, in the midst of a yawn, we took breakfast at tea time, and then went to bed again, where we lay till the following four noon. After this we arose very greatly refreshed, but much alarmed lest we had lost count of a day. I say we were much alarmed on this head, for we had carefully kept count of the days since we were cast upon our island, in order that we might remember this Sabbath day, which day we had hitherto with one accord, kept as a day of rest and refrained from all work whatsoever. However, on considering the subject, we all three entertained the same opinion as to how long we had slept, and so our minds were put at ease. We now hastened to our water garden to enjoy a bath, and to see how did the animals which I had placed in the tank. We found the garden more charming, pollucid, and inviting than ever, and Jack and I plunged into its depths and gambled among its radiant coral groves, while Peterkin wallowed at the surface and tried occasionally to kick us as we passed below. Having dressed, I then hastened to the tank, but what was my surprise in grief to find nearly all the animals dead, and the water in a putrid condition? I was greatly distressed at this, and wondered what could be the cause of it. Why, you precious humbug, said Peterkin coming up to me, how could you expect it to be otherwise, when fishes are accustomed to live in the Pacific Ocean, how can you expect them to exist in a hole like that? Indeed, Peterkin, I replied, there seems to be truth in what you say. Nevertheless, now I think of it, there must be some error in your reasoning, for if I put in but a few very small animals, they will bear the same proportion to this pond that the millions of fish bear to the ocean. I say, Jack, cried Peterkin waving his hand, come here like a good fellow. Ralph is actually talking philosophy. Do come to our assistance, for he's out of sight young me already. What's the matter, inquired Jack, coming up while he endeavored to scrub his long hair dry with a towel of coconut cloth? I repeated my thoughts to Jack, who I was happy to find quite agreed with me. The best plan, he said, will be to put very few animals at first into your tank, and add more as you find it will bear them. And look here, he added, pointing to the sides of the tank, which for the space of two inches above the water level, where encrusted with salt, you must carry your philosophy a little further Ralph, that water has evaporated so much that it is too salt for anything to live in. You will require to add fresh water now and then, in order to keep it at the same degree of saltness as the sea. Very true, Jack, that never struck me before, said I. And now I think of it, continued Jack, it seems to me that the surest way of arranging your tank so as to get it to keep pure and in good condition will be to imitate the ocean in it, in fact, make it a miniature Pacific. I don't see how you can hope to succeed unless you do that. Most true, said I, pondering what my companion said. But I fear that will be very difficult. Not at all, cried Jack, rolling his towel up into a ball and throwing it into the face of Peterkin, who had been grinning and winking at him during the last five minutes. Not at all. Look here. There is water of a certain saltness in the sea. Well, fill your tank with sea water, and keep it at that saltness by marking the height at which the water stands on the sides. When it evaporates a little, pour in fresh water from the brook till it comes up to the mark, and then it will be right. For the salt does not evaporate with the water. Then there's lots of seaweed in the sea. Well, go and get one or two bits of seaweed and put them into your tank. Of course, the weed must be alive and growing to little stones, or you can chip a bit off the rocks with the weed sticking to it.  Nay, not quite, said Peterkin, who had been gravely attentive to this offhand advice. Not quite. You must first make three little men to dye it in it before it can be said to be perfect, and that would be rather difficult, I fear, for two of them would require to be philosophers. But hello. What's this? I say, Ralph, look here. There's one of your crabs up to something uncommon. It's performing the most remarkable operation for a crab I ever saw, taking off its coat, I do believe, before going to bed. We hastily stooped over the tank, and certainly were not a little amused at the conduct of one of the crabs which still survived its companions. It was one of the common small crabs, like to those that are found running about everywhere on the coast of England. While we gazed at it, we observed its back to split away from the lower part of its body, and out of the gap thus formed came a soft lump which moved and writhed unceasingly. This lump continued to increase in size until it appeared like a bunch of crab's legs, and, indeed, such it proved in a very few minutes to be, for the points of the toes were at length extricated from the hole in its back. The legs spread out, the body followed, and the crab walked away quite entire, even to the points of its nipper claws, leaving a perfectly entire shell behind it, so that when we looked, it seemed as though there were two complete crabs instead of one. Well, exclaimed Peterkin, drawing a long breath, I've heard of a man jumping out of his skin, and sitting down in his skeleton in order to cool himself, but I never expected to see a crab do it. We were, in truth, much amazed at this spectacle, when we observed that the new crab was larger than the crab that it came out of. It was also quite soft, but by next morning its skin had hardened into a good shell. We came thus to know that crabs grow in this way, and not by the growing of their shells, as we had always thought before we saw this wonderful operation. Now I considered well the advice when Jack had given me about preparing my tank, and the more I thought of it, the more I came to regard it as very sound and worthy of being acted on. So I forthwith put his plan in execution, and found it to answer excellently well, indeed, much beyond my expectation, for I found that after a little experience had taught me the proper proportion of seaweed and animals to put into a certain amount of water, the tank needed no further attendance, and moreover I did not require ever afterwards to renew or change the seawater, but only to add a very little freshwater from the brook, now and then, as the other evaporated. I therefore concluded that if I had been suddenly conveyed, along with my tank, into some region where there was no salt sea at all, my little sea, and my sea fish would have continued to thrive and to prosper notwithstanding. This made me greatly to desire that those people in the world who live far inland might know of my wonderful tank, and by having materials like to those of which it was made conveyed to them, thus be enabled to watch the habits of those most mysterious animals that reside in the sea, and examine with their own eyes the wonders of the great deep. For many days after this, while Peter, Ken and Jack were busily employed in building a little boat out of the curious natural planks of the chestnut tree, I spent much of my time in examining with the burning glass the marvelous operations that were constantly going on in my tank. Here I saw those anemones which cling, like little red, yellow, and green blobs of jelly, to the rocks, put forth, as it were, a multitude of arms and weight to little fish or other small animicules, unwarily touch them, and they would instantly seize them, fold arm after arm round their victims, and so engulf them in their stomachs. Here I saw the ceaseless working of those little coral insects, whose efforts have encrusted the islands of the Pacific with vast rocks, and surrounded them with enormous reefs, and I observed that many of these insects, though extremely minute, were very beautiful, coming out of their holes in a circle of fine threads, and having the form of a shuttlecock. Here I saw curious little barnacles opening a hole in their backs, and constantly putting out a thin, feathery hand, with which I doubt none, they dragged their food into their mouths. Here also I saw those crabs which have shells only on the front of their bodies, but no shell whatever on their remarkably tender tails, so that in order to find protection to them, they thrust them into the empty shells of welks, or some such fish, and when they grow too big for one, change into another. But most curious of all, I saw an animal which had the wonderful power, when it became ill, of casting its stomach and its teeth away from it, and getting an entirely new set in the course of a few months. All this I saw, and a great deal more, by means of my tank and my burning glass, but I refrained from setting down more particulars here, as I have still much to tell of the adventures that befell us while we remained on this island. End of Chapter 12, Recording by Tom Weiss