Orphan Island (2 page)

“America, ma'am,” one of them said, “is some two thousand miles away. That is some lonely Pacific island, which may or may not be inhabited. We had best approach it, and, if it does not appear to be peopled by savages, we can land on its shores and rest a while and look for fresh water.”

“With all my heart. my good men,” Miss Smith agreed. “These unfortunate children are sadly in need of a little repose on dry land. Heaven send that it may not be inhabited by implacable natives!”

“Natives,” the sailor answered her, “are very generally implacable, where they exist at all. So, by your leave, ma'am, should any signs of human life be observable on the island, we will not land, but make our escape as rapidly as may be.”

“With all my heart,” Miss Smith again agreed, and having communicated their project to the other boat, the men bent lustily to the oars and were very soon within a stone's throw of the island.

It had a most agreeable look, being surrounded, as such islands so frequently are, by a lagoon half a mile in width, bounded by a low circular reef of red and white coral. The island itself, which had a rather curious formation, being two peninsulas joined by a narrow neck of land, had a sandy shore, and dense woods of palm trees, banana trees, bread-fruit trees, prickly pears, mangoes, and other
vegetation familiar to all who have perused island literature. Further, it had, to the relief of the castaways, every appearance of being peaceful and uninhabited.

“We're in luck, it appears,” said Dr. O'Malley, but Miss Smith reproved him.

“Luck, sir, is perhaps scarcely the word to apply to these fore-ordained mercies.”

“As you like, my good girl, as you like. I admire the way you keep it up, even, so to speak, in the maw of death. Yes, ma'am, I admire it, and I'm telling you so frankly. Get way on her, men. We must make for that gap in the reef, and then we should have a clear run on to yonder strip of beach. There's another fore-ordained mercy for you, ma'am, that this is a lagoon island and has a reef to shelter it, and isn't exposed to the waves, the way we'd be smashed to bits trying to land.”

Even as it was, the billows broke too roughly on the beach to make landing a safe or agreeable task; however, it was presently accomplished, and both boats grounded on the sand.

What a landing was that! Cramped and chilly orphans stumbled or were lifted on to a glistening shore already warming under the morning sunlight, for it was promising to be a fair day. A dense growth of wood climbed back almost from the shores; it was full of the delightful noises of monkeys and of birds, moved, it seemed, to prodigious excitement by the advent of these strange visitors.

Miss Smith, also profoundly moved, gazed about her and recited the following lines:—

“Coral insect! unseen are his beautiful hues;

Yet in process of time, tho' so puny and frail,

O'er the might of the ocean his structures prevail;

“On the surface at last a flat islet is spied,

And shingle and sand are heaped up by the tide;

Seeds brought by the breezes take root, and erewhile

Man makes him a home on the insect-built pile!”

“Apparently quite uninhabited,” said Dr. O'Malley, when she had finished. “Not a footprint on the sands but our own: no traces of human visitation. What d'ye think, Thinkwell?”

“That you may be right, sir,” replied the mate, “or you may be wrong. I take this to be one of the lonelier and remoter islands, and it may be that we are the first human creatures to have set foot on it. On the other hand, it may be one of those islands which the savages visit from time to time. We shall do well to make a very cautious inspection. Remember, we have not a weapon among us. And with all these children, and the two ladies …”

“There, there,” interrupted the doctor, “no one wants to be killed by savages, ladies and children or not, so restrain your irrelevance. It is obvious that there are no savages here at the moment, so let us make ourselves as comfortable as we can while we may. No use looking ahead for danger. Jean here looks as calm as if she were on a trip on Loch Lomond, instead of being cast up on a wild island in Oceania. Eh, Jean?”

“Indeed, sir, I hope I am calm. If we are to be eaten by savages, it is all written in the Book, that is sairtain. And if it is not in the Book, we shall not be eaten.”

“Faith, to be sure, and a very comforting thought too. So long as it's in the Book, we shan't care, shall we? A sad pity we can't get a glimpse
at that Book, eh?” The doctor, still slightly intoxicated, winked at Miss Smith, who, however, thought such levity ill-timed.

“Enough of this,” she said, with some severity. “I cannot think, doctor, that this is the moment for ribaldry as to our pre-ordained fates. Rather should we be employed (having in mind particularly what day it is) in giving thanks to the Almighty for His present mercies. But what we have first to do is to seek some shelter where the children can repose, and, if possible, to obtain something to eat and drink for their breakfasts. I have heard that the cocoa-nut yields a very pleasant milk. Yonder wood seems to be full of such nuts; we must obtain some.”

“That is easily done,” said the doctor. “
Animus est in patinis;
and quite right, too, for prayers will wait but hunger won't.” So saying, he and the sailors went off to forage for food, taking with them the axe with which the boat had been provided, while Miss Smith and Jean made the forty children lie down on the soft green grass between the beach and the wood, where most of them fell presently very sound asleep. The two women, too anxious to repose, sat among them and talked together in low and calm tones of the terrible situation in which they found themselves.

Presently the doctor and sailors returned with their arms full of cocoa-nuts and all kinds of fruit.

“We have but to kindle a fire,” said the doctor, “and we will have a capital breakfast. With my magnifying glass and the sun we will soon accomplish that. We can then boil some of the milk, in its shell. Later, we shall catch some fish and other small creatures suitable for frying.
Etiam stultis
acuit ingenium fames
, eh, Miss Smith? We will live famously, be sure.”

Such was his joviality that Miss Smith guessed that he had yet more rum taken, and shrank away. In such an awful situation, and on Sunday morning too, to besot oneself with alcoholic liquor! What degradation! The sailors, who had not, from all appearances, been offered the opportunity of doing this, were gloomy and sour, and drew away to talk among themselves.

Presently the children began stirring, and the elder of them were prodigiously pleased and amazed at their strange surroundings, so that Miss Smith and the nurse found it all they could do to keep their charges from scattering into the woods to play.

“Oh, I fancy it's safe enough,” said the doctor, engaged in kindling a fire of sticks with his magnifying glass. “Still, ye never know, and they're tasty biteens for any prowling beast, the poor little devils. Faith, ma'am, if you and I chanced to be cannibals, we would have a famous breakfast, to be sure.”

He laughed heartily at his own jest, but Miss Smith found it very shocking, and moved yet farther away from him.

“Cheer up, ma'am,” he encouraged her. “
Dum fata sinunt vivite lati
. Never be down-hearted at all.”

The day wore on, and became prodigiously hot. Our castaways were well occupied in exploring their island; they were fortunate enough to find a spring of fresh water not far from them, and all the usualluxuries
without which no island is worthy to be so called, such as mangoes, bread-fruit, and so forth. As the sun grew stronger, and as there were no indications of ferocious beasts, Miss Smith, Jean, and the orphans moved into the shade of the wood, Miss Smith closely admonishing the children on no account to stray out of call.

After the midday meal, the sea being now comparatively smooth, the four sailors and Dr. O'Malley put out in the two boats in order to make a tour round the island.

“You will be back long before nightfall, I trust,” said Miss Smith.

“We shall, then,” the doctor assured her.

But the day wore on, and they were not back before nightfall. Miss Smith grew perturbed. What could have happened? Fear filled the breasts of the two women, who found themselves thus alone, without male protection.

The night drew on, and sleeping arrangements had to be made. Most of the orphans were laid upon the ground, wrapped in coats; for a few of the youngest Miss Smith made a kind of tent of her crinoline, reluctant as she was to divest herself of this garment, the wearing of which so much enhanced the natural dignity of females.

In what tremor and agitation that night was spent, may be imagined. Jean, indeed, was fairly calm, relying still on the Book, though, as Miss Smith once told her shortly, as she had no acquaintance with its contents, it gave small reason for comfort. Miss Smith herself, not being a Calvinist but a Protestant Anglican, preferred to petition the Almighty for succour, which Jean, as she pointed out to her, could not with any show of logic do.

After a while the sleep of exhaustion ended this theological discussion, until Miss Smith was woken by infants clamouring for breakfast.

Eagerly the two women scanned the beach for the boats, but alas, there was no sign of them. A bright and beautiful day broke, heightened to its noon heat, wore to a drowsy afternoon, and still not a male human creature was within view, beyond the helpless and noisy little orphan boys.

“Have they deserted us?” cried Miss Smith. “Can even the doctor have such a heart of stone? No, I will not credit it, even of a papistical and drunken atheist. Have they then met with some accident or assault?”

“I dinna ken, miss,” replied Jean, a very literal woman, who always answered, to the best of her capacity, the rhetorical questions of others. “I think,” she went on, “I will give the younger bairns a wash, which they sorely need.”

So saying, she set about this task. Miss Smith, too agitated to assist, and unwilling that the children should observe her agitation, moved to a little distance and sat on the shore, gazing out to sea.

Alas, what a sorry plight was theirs I Two women stranded in the middle of the ocean with forty defenceless children and no male protector. For gentlemen, Miss Smith felt,
are
a protection in such emergencies. Gentlemen are so practical, so strong, so admirably well-informed. Gentlemen can cut down trees, put up tents, capture birds, beasts, and fishes. Gentlemen are so progressive. Gentlemen know where they are and what to do about it.

For the first time in her life, Miss Smith would have given a great deal to see a pair of whiskers.

And, even as she succumbed to this longing, a voice hailed her, and, turning about, she saw the ginger whiskers of Dr. O'Malley emerging from the wood.

“Thank God!” Miss Smith breathed.

He walked up to her, and seemed in a great state of anger.

“Those scoundrels,” he exclaimed. “Those dastardly rogues. The third mate, too, who should have known better. Scum! They are gone with the boats. They've left us in the lurch, devil take them.”

“Impossible!” cried Miss Smith, nearly swooning.

“'Tis so indeed, as I'll tell you. When we got round to the other side of the island, and had landed and explored it a little, those ruffians informed me of their project. They didn't like the look of the island, they said; they were afraid of a visit from savages, and, moreover, they were sure no ship would ever come to such a lost spot. Anyhow, they were for leaving the island with the two boats. cargoed with fruit and cocoa-nuts, and setting out to look for some more likely island, or possibly striking some steamer line. We couldn't do it with all those children, they said; couldn't get the boats along. So, if you please, we were to leave the women and children here and make away by ourselves, the way we might have a chance of getting somewhere.”

“My God,” said Miss Smith. “What villainy! And you, doctor—you did not consent to their scheme?”

“I did not then. I gave Thinkwell a cracked jaw and Martin a black eye. But I couldn't do much against the lot of them. They pushed off and left
me stunned on the beach. When I came to, they were well out to sea, bad luck to the Protestant devils. I couldn't do anything but camp for the night there and push back through the woods to-day, with the help of my compass. … Lord, but it's been a dry day! We must see about fermenting some of this fruit-juice, the way we'll get something fit to drink. They say there's good stuff in the palm trunks too.”

“Doctor,” said Miss Smith. “I thank you from my heart for not deserting us. I have sometimes, perhaps, spoken harshly to you in the past—and indeed there are things I could wish otherwise in you, for we are all sinful creatures. But you have played a noble part in this distressing business.”

“Not a bit, my dear creature, not a bit. To tell ye the truth, I don't for a moment think those scoundrels will be saved. I fancy we are better off where we are, where there is at least a chance of rescue, and plenty of food in the meantime. I dare say those fellows will be wishing themselves back before long. They may be set on by savages in canoes, or capsized in a squall and eaten up by sharks, or a thousand things. Had I not thought so, I would not have been left behind, for, as they say,
ad suum quemque aquum est quastum esse callidum
—which means, every man for himself. No, no, I stay here until I am taken away by some safer craft than an open boat'

Time wore on. In vain the castaways spied every day for a passing vessel: none passed or, if they passed, they stayed not. Weeks grew into months,
months into years. Dr. O'Malley succeeded in fermenting the juice of mangoes to his satisfaction, and extracting wine from the palm, and passed much of his time in the happy intoxication thereby induced. “
Bibere papaliter,”
he would murmur. “Sure, if it is not quite that, it is the best I can do on this forsaken spot.” Miss Smith endeavoured to redeem him; at last, succumbing to propinquity and persuasion, she married him. The doctor's earlier wife was so many thousand miles away that he did not think it necessary to mention her. He told Miss Smith that he must marry some one, and that he could not wait until the eldest female orphans came to suitable years. Obviously, too, he said, their position, at present a little compromising, must, in the interests of propriety, be regularised by matrimony. Miss Smith saw that point, but did not think it right to marry a Roman Catholic. The doctor assured her that that was no matter; his Catholicism was merely nominal, and only came on when he had too much mangojuice taken, and anyhow he would promise not to influence in that direction any children they might have. At that Miss Smith blushed very much, and thought it more proper to consent. A lady cannot, she had been well taught by her mother, discuss with a gentleman the children she and he may have, without subsequently marrying him. It simply cannot be done. So Miss Smith consented to become (as she thought) Mrs. O'Malley, and they were married according to the Scottish rite, before two witnesses, the dour and disapproving Jean and the eldest orphan.