William H. Macy  Source  Whalesite

AFTER A DRINK.

W. H. Macy

Ballou's Monthly Magazine
Vol. LXX, No. 1 (Jul 1889)
pp. 65-72.

AFTER A DRINK.

      One hot, sunny day, some years ago, the whaler in which my first voyage to sea was made was slowly nearing the specks of land, in the waste of waters of the Pacific Ocean, called the Easter Islands. No one in the ship had ever been there before; but the inhabitants were credited with all the vices and faults in the list – including the trifling one of cannibalism – in the yarns which were spun around the windlass and abaft the try-works, as we neared what we hoped was to be a watering-place.

      The boat-steerers, and the one or two old whalemen in the forecastle, told thrilling tales of the fate of unhappy men who had lost their lives from the savage barbarity of the natives, or of marvelous escapes; but where they found their authority for such stories no one could ever discover.

      finished up his expressions of astonishment at the singular circumstance with a hearty burst of laughter, in which my old friend was not slow to join. And assuredly such an instance, not of "the blind leading the blind," but of the sightless conducting the seeing through the dangers and difficulties of a London fog, must be unique even among the wonderful things that have been achieved by those afflicted with the loss of sight.

      Our faith in the islanders virtue being so weak, it was little wonder if we looked earn estly and curiously at the green, heavily wooded island, as we moved lazily towards it on that bright, sunny, summer afternoon. But we saw nothing to warn us of danger. Everything was calm and peaceful; and at about four o'clock our starboard anchor went into the water with a splash and a plunge, the anchor chain, ranged abaft the windlass, went over it and out of the hawse pipe with a great clatter and a cloud of dust. The canvas was rolled up "after a fashion," and the N lay as still as though anchored in Boston harbor, hooked to the bottom of the Pacific about five miles off a point of land which apparently divided a large bay into two equal portions.

      No native had we yet seen; and the officers' careful scrutiny of the shores of the island with their glasses disclosed no signs of human life.

      We had been anchored for several hours, and were scattered about, some on the wind lass or try-works, and others sitting on the rail or lying on the fore-hatch, smoking after our supper, and discussing the chances of our being able to increase our shrunken but by no means short stock of water at this isl and, without having any of our number served up for dinner, when we were roused up by the mate, a big, powerful man, with a voice like the bull of Bashan's, and a heart that was a lion's for courage, who gave us something to do by issuing the order, "clear away the larboard boat."

      The term "port," as opposed to "star board," was not then (nor do I know if it is now) so universally used in whaleships as in the merchant service; the "larboard" side and the "larboard watch" being always used in whaleman's parlance, and "port" side or watch in the merchant seaman's.

      The larboard boat, which is always "headed" – or commanded and steered – by the chief mate (the boat-steerer of any boat steering only after a whale is fastened to, while the officer kills the huge animal with the lance), was cleared of its gripes, the paddles and over-thwart gear, such as irons, lances and spade, hatchet and knives, taken out, the cranes swung from under her, and with Mr. C____ in the stern, and his long Martha's Vineyard boat-steerer in the bow, and followed down the side by four men (not the regular boat's crew) whom the mate had selected, she was lowered into the smooth

water, and pulled steadily away for the point of land nearest us. They were going on a voyage of discovery, to try and "spy out the land," and find fresh water, if possible, before dark.

      We watched them till they were about half way to the shore, when the second mate, who had been talking earnestly with the captain for a few minutes, called out: —

      "Lay aft here, a couple of you, and get up the muskets," and as my chum and I were going down the cabin stairs with him, in obedience to the command, we met the third officer coming up with a small sack in his hand, which we recognized as a cannon cartridge, such as we had made up some months before for our old twelve-pounder signal-gun.

      "What's up, sir?" said I, to the second mate, Mr. B.; "think we're going to have any trouble?"

      "Don't know of any, Dick," replied Mr. B., "but I want to have things ready if any thing should turn up. Those black thieves are infernally treacherous. You can't trust 'em any further than you could heave an elephant by the tail. I've seen as much of 'em as I want to."

      We got out muskets enough to arm every man in the ship's company with one, and loaded them carefully with powder and ball, of which we had abundance, but no cartridges; and when we returned to the deck we found that the third mate had carefully loaded the old cannon, filling it about half full of spikes, nails, and such bits of scrap iron as could be found – there being no cannon-shot of any kind on board.

      At eight bells all hands were called aft, and the captain told us that he felt as if every caution was necessary to be exercised, as the people of the island had a bad reputation, and might endeavor to harm us in some way; that it was every man's duty, as well as interest, to keep his eyes and ears open on watch; and concluded by ordering the arms and ammunition to be distributed, and sea-watches to be set – as it was not safe to trust the ship to an anchor-watch of one or two men.

      The watch below stood their muskets up in the angle formed by the forecastle scuttle and the windlass, throwing an old stun'-sail over them to keep off any possible, but not probable, dew, and turned in "all standing," that is, without removing their clothes. The boat-steerers and carpenter saw that their craft (as harpoons, lances, etc., are called ) was ready to hand, and the watch on deck marched about, carrying their muskets at every possible angle and in every possible manner, or smoked and yarned on the forehatch or in the waist – except two, who were stationed, one between the knight heads, forward, and the other on the coach house, aft, as lookouts.

      At eleven o'clock, just as the word had been passed to rouse the watch below to take their turn on deck, the lookout aft reported a noise of oars approaching. We supposed it was our own boat, of course, for the South Sea Islanders use canoes propelled by paddles; but the watch was roused in a hurry, and muskets, lances and cutting-in spades were held in readiness to give any unwelcome intruder a warm reception. The oars, however, did belong to our boat, and were pulled by our men, who were all back again safe – though they bore evident marks of having been handled a little roughly. It was pretty certain that they had seen natives, if we had not.

      The boat was hoisted up and secured, and then each of her late crew became at once the centre of a group of eager inquiries, all anxious to know what had been seen, heard and done on shore. They had been among the islanders, sure enough.

      After reaching the point, and seeing nothing particular there, they had pulled along the shore for several miles, and at length saw a small fire some distance back from the beach, which they cautiously pulled in for. This fire we did not see from the ship's mast-head was seen by the boat's crew the whole evening.

      On the beach they were met by several natives (including a number of women and children), who gave them fruit, and by signs invited them to land, and come up to the fire. For a while their invitations were disregarded, but their manner was so apparently gentle and kind that the men at last in considerately left the boat, and were soon mixed up among the islanders, who seemed to be fairly overflowing with hospitality.

      Some time had been spent in "becoming acquainted" with their entertainers, when the boat-steerer, who had been jealously watching the boat ever since, having several times visited her to see that all was right, noticed that a much larger proportion of the savages were men than was the case at first, and that our boat's crew was very much

scattered. He mentioned his suspicions to the mate, that the savages were gathering, and for no good intent, and the officer at once agreed that the sooner they were afloat the better it would be for them.

      The men were warned to get closer together, in as quiet a manner as possible, so as not to attract the attention of the natives, and to look out sharp for any movement on their part. None of the savages spoke English, so the arrangements were easily made, and the crew got within supporting distance of each other, near the fire, without apparently arousing their suspicions.

      The mate and his men were armed but poorly for a conflict; the sailors had nothing but their sheath-knives, and the officer and boat-steerer nothing at all, to fight with; while the natives were armed with weapons of wood – two kinds, one a stick about sixteen inches in length, with a large knob on the end, which they throw with unerring aim, and with force enough to break a man's skull, unless he has an unusual supply of that article; the other implement was simply a heavy club, made in various forms, and ornamented with rude carving. How the carving is done I cannot explain, as no iron tools were seen among them but an old hatchet and a boat-hook, probably sold to them by sailors, or stolen from a whaleboat.

      The boat-steerer was directed to go down to the boat alone, which he could do without exciting suspicion, having done the same thing several times before since the landing was made. Once there, he was to get out the spare lances and irons from under the thwarts, and at the same time call one of the crew down to assist him. It was hoped that the two men would be able to get their arrangements completed without attracting the attention of the savages; and if they were successful, as soon as they were all ready the mate and his three companions were to start boldly for the boat, in a body. If they were assailed, as they expected and feared to be, then the two men from the boat would be able to lend powerful assist ance by attacking the natives who might get between the boat and her crew, with the deadly lances.

      The plan was perhaps the best that could be laid under the circumstances; and it succeeded so far that the boat-steerer and one man did get to the boat (round which the natives had begun to cluster pretty thickly), and had got out one lance from beneath the thwarts when the collision took place – the fight commencing at the fire.

      The bow-oarsman, Gilbert, had on a Panama hat; and one of the natives, who had been trying to buy his sheath-knife for a lot of fruit and a mat, suddenly snatched the hat off his head, and turned to run. He was not quick enough, however, for Gilbert, a big, raw-boned man, struck him on the side of his head with his clinched fist, knocking him fairly into the blazing fire.

      "Out with your knives, men-make for the boat," roared Mr. C.; "come on, K. ( to the boat-steerer), use your lances – fight for your lives, men – fight like the devil! " The boat's crew needed no urging. Gilbert, the moment he had struck the native, had snatched a club from another and felled him with a blow that would have killed an ox. The mate had grappled a savage, who, though but a child in his grasp, still managed to retain his weapon, till the black Portuguese from Cape Verd who pulled the midship oar drove a knife into his side, when the mate got his club. He was then an ugly customer to face, for any man. The savages, though probably somewhat taken by surprise at the commencement of the attack so soon, crowded around the little party, striking at them with clubs, yelling, and throwing stones and their short sticks. Several of the sailors had been hurt, but none disabled, when they got close down to the boat, the big mate fighting a passage, knocking out of his way everything that got in it, and cheering on the men all the time; while Gilbert and the other two men defended the rear as best they could. Our were vastly superior in physical strength, if inferior in numbers; and they knew well that they were fighting for their lives. But all this time the boat-steerer and his man failed to make any diversion in their favor; the fact was, they had their hands full where they were.

      When the shout arose at the fire for assistance, K. seized the lance and called on the other man to "grab the boat-hook," which he did; but they were instantly attacked by a crowd of the savages, effectually preventing them from giving any assistance to the mate and his little party. The lance was not the best tool to handle in such a melee, but K. managed to drive it through the naked breast of one unhappy wretch, when a second, who was too close to him to

render the long lance available, aimed a blow at his head with his club. K. relinquished his lance and sprang aside in time to escape the club, whose owner he clinched, and the two whirled and twisted in a death-struggle for the mastery, the infuriated natives who were crowding round being unable to strike the seaman for fear of injuring their own friend. The boat-steerer had succeeded in getting the club from his antagonist, and had a grasp on his throat with his left hand which would soon have terminated his life, while with the cudgel he kept off the others as best he might, when he was struck a glancing blow on the back of the head by one of the short clubs, thrown at him from a considerable distance. Dazed and reeling with the blow, he dropped both the native and the club, and in a moment was down under the feet of a dozen of the savage wretches. His fate was apparently certain, when the man with the boat-hook made his appearance, and put a new face on the matter.

      This man was a son of "ould Ireland," and in his hands the despised boat-hook had proved far more effective than the trusted lance had been in the boat-steerer's. The handle of the hook was a stout piece of white ash, about nine feet long; and, holding it by the middle, with his two hands, Pat had fought with both ends, using either one to parry or strike with, and occasionally giving some one a punch with the pike, or a tear with the hook. He and his hook were a grand success, and it was well for the boat-steerer that Pat had managed to fight his way round to his part of the boat (they having been on opposite sides of her when the fight began), just as the savages had got the white man to the ground.

      A tear of the hook into the naked flesh of a native who was kneeling beside the prostrate man and trying to get a blow at his head, a dozen rapid but heavy whacks of the boat-hook on the unprotected pates of the demons, and Pat waved his improvised shillalah in triumph over the living but still prostrate body of his friend, just as the mate and his men broke through the howling crowd into the open space cleared by the boat-hook.

      "Hurrah! boys, here's the boat!" shouted the mate; "we'll weather 'em yet."

A glance told him the whole story (except that he supposed K. to be dead, when he wasn't, for he is living yet), and he gave his orders with the desperate coolness of a brave man who knew that he was expected to save the lives of the boat's crew, if they were to be saved at all.

      "Gilbert, Pat, whack 'em back, whack 'em back. You Peanuts and Beef (the 'purser's names' of the two Portuguese sailors), put K. in the boat, then run the boat off and get out two oars." And all the time he was issuing these commands he was beating back the savages from the front, while Gilbert with his club defended one side, and Pat with his boat-hook took care of the other.

      The insensible boat-steerer was tumbled into the boat, and she was shoved off the beach by the two Portuguese; one of whom, the black Cape de Verd Islander, carried between his teeth the reeking sheath-knife with which he had sent more than one of the assailants to their long home. It was fortunate for the crew that the boat's bow only was on the beach, so that the two men could launch her. Had she been entirely hauled up, not a man of them would have left the beach alive. The moment the boat was afloat, the natives, as if satisfied that a desperate effort only could now prevent the escape of their prey, rushed upon the three men who were still on shore, and dashed out into the water to attack the boat, or perhaps to haul her again on shore.

      One native seized the boat's gunwale only to fall back as Beef's knife passed with a jerk across his neck; and another was beaten down by Peanuts' oar. But the whalemen were beyond the reach of reinforcements, and such fighting as they were engaged in would soon exhaust them. There were only two things for them to do – escape or die; to conquer was out of the question, for fresh men took the places of the natives as fast as they were knocked over or disabled.

      "Now, men," called the mate, to his two companions, all three of them having been gradually forced backwards by the assailants until they were knee-deep in the water, the boat's bow being close to them, and the Portuguese lending a hand at the fight when they saw a chance; "now, men, stand by to jump aboard when I count three; stand by your oars, you two – one, two, three." And with the last word Gilbert and the mate tumbled into the boat, which immediately backed off a few boat-lengths, leaving poor Pat alone, to what seemed a certain death. Pat, however, had no intention of submit-

ting to his fate with anything of lamblike gentleness. On the contrary, he fought with a cool fury (to coin a phrase – the only one I know that will convey my meaning), that kept the savages from getting any effective blows at him, while he called out to the men in the boat, in tones of agonized entreaty: —

      "For God's sake, boys, you won't leave me here now?"

      He was obliged to retreat further and further into the water by the closing in of the natives, until he was so far submerged that the water seriously interfered with the working of his long boat-hook, one end of which was often below its surface; and an other minute would probably have been fatal to Pat, when the boat came once more on the scene.

      The mate had got aft to the steering-oar, and Gilbert was seated on his thwart, when Pat was missed; and at the same moment his appeal for help reached their ears.

      "Pull in, pull away, pull boys, pull," ordered the mate, hurriedly, to the two Portuguese; "Gil, get out an under-thwart iron quick!" And the brave men in the boat again pulled in, ready to face anew the terrible danger from which they had so recently escaped, but not to desert their shipmate in his extremity. The crew had gallantly supported each other, to which conduct they owed the ultimate safety of all their number. The Portuguese seamen might easily have backed the boat out of danger's way when they first got into her, and left the rest to be destroyed; as also might Pat have now been left to his fate, without risking the rest of the crew. Perhaps, in view of the almost hopelessness of saving him, those in the boat would have been justified in refusing to again face the perils of the beach; but they did not stop to consider the matter; they pulled straight in for where the fight was going on, instead.

      Not many strokes were needed to take them there; and the iron from Gilbert's hand transfixed one native, at the same time that the boat's bow struck another, knocking him down; and profiting by the surprise occasioned by this unexpected attack from an enemy they had supposed to have fled, Gilbert grabbed Pat by the hair with one hand and by the arm with the other, and singing out, "Stern, stern!" with all his might hauled his man in over the bow, somewhat battered and bruised, and a good deal exhausted, but alive and "as well as could be expected." A few stern strokes of the oars took the boat off into darkness and deep water, and all danger was over.

      "By the three geese! but wasn't it warm work?" said Pat, as he settled himself on his thwart and shipped his oar; "but I lost the boat-hook, Mr. C; couldn't help it, sir, the thieving vilyuns tuck it away from me!"

      "Oh, hang the boat-hook – let it go," said the mate, in spite of himself having to laugh at such an apology at such a time, and under such circumstances. "But have a lookout at K.; see if he's alive, Patrick."

      "Yes, sir," responded Patrick, and thrusting his hand inside the boat-steerer's shirt, continued, "alive? it's himself that is, then; hey-wake up, mate; what are ye layin' down here for, and we goin' off to the ship?" Some salt water on his face soon brought the boat-steerer to, and he was seated in the stern-sheets of the boat; and though still weak and ill, he was able to climb the side when the boat got alongside. Old Beef had a bad hurt on his left side, and all were more or less bruised; but no lives had been lost, nor any serious, permanent injury sustained, by any of the boat's crew.

      The utmost vigilance was exercised for the rest of the night, but no other disturb ance took place.

      The next day was calm; and our officers and captain consulted together as to the propriety of leaving the islands without attempting to procure water, as it was manifestly madness to trust the natives, particularly after what had occurred. The shores of the island seemed as destitute of life as they had when we first viewed them; and the third mate ( whose boat-steerer I was ) about noon lowered his boat, and pulled in for the land, not intending, however, to try the mate's experiment over again.

      We kept a safe distance off shore, and kept a sharp lookout at it, as well; but we saw nothing to alarm us, so we pulled down past the point, on the opposite side from where the mate had gone the preceding evening, for about two miles. Here we found what was evidently a small stream of water, little more than a brook, running in to the bay; and we knew it must be fresh water, though we did not dare to land, to test it by drinking; we should not have seen it at all but for a slight break in the dense growth of trees and brush, a species of man-

grove growing on the banks of the brook, and nowhere else.

      "That's the place, boys," said the third mate; we must get water there, or not at all."

      We returned to the ship without having seen anything suspicious, unless the absence of the natives from sight might be accounted such, and another conference took place among the officers. It was agreed that the third mate (not the second, who generally gets the water, on board a whaleship ), who knew where the stream was, should tow a small raft of casks to the watering-place the ensuing night, under cover of the darkness; fill the casks and roll them out as fast as possible before rafting them again, so that they would be, as much as possible, concealed by the salt water, and there anchor the raft, so that it would not be driven in shore again by the advancing tide. As soon as the raft was afloat, it was to be taken in tow, and the "wheft" set in the stern as a signal for the other boats, which were then to come down boldly, well-armed, and help get it alongside.

      The manner of rafting casks is as follows: two rope beckets are put on each end of a cask, and secured in place by the hoops four beckets to a cask. A rope is then run through the beckets, the bight of it being around the end of the last cask, so that the casks all follow each other, end on; and are towed with greater ease, once the raft is started, than a single cask with its broadside to the boat.

      Our casks had been becketed for some time; so during the afternoon six three barrel casks were strung together and put over the side, in readiness for our miduight occasion. We cleared our boat, taking out everything but the oars and water-keg; a good lunch was stowed away in her; and a grand mustering of arms took place, to furnish us with the means of defence if we should be molested, which was not expected to happen, as we hoped to be able to get the raft started for the ship before the natives observed us. Once started, we did not imagine they would attempt to interfere; or if they did, a few musket shots were expected to put them all to flight.

      As to arms, we made rather a poor show. There were plenty of muskets, but the third mate would take only two in the boat, saying they would only be in the way. Each man was furnished with a cutlass; but of pistols there was a most lamentable dearth, there being but one on board the ship, a wretched little "pepper-box" belonging to the captain, and called a "revolver" from courtesy, which would not go off half the time, and when it did, would hardly have hurt a man at ten feet distance. This Mr. S. (our officer) declined to take, saying he had much rather have a half-brick to trust to in a fight.

      At about ten o'clock we left the ship with our regular boat's crew (Peanuts, the black Portuguese, who had been on shore with the mate, pulling our midship oar), towing the light raft, and at about midnight we arrived at the break in the woods which was our guide to the brook. The latter we easily found; and by four o'clock our casks were filled, rolled out in the water as far as we could manage it, rafted, and the raft anchored. The tide was still falling, but as the day was breaking we dared not show our selves any longer; we depended for our safety on being able to conceal our presence from the savages until the casks were floated by the incoming tide, and then getting on board the ship before they could muster in force enough to annoy us.

      Having finished the raft, we fisted the boat and ran her up in the bed of the stream till she was wholly concealed by the mangroves; and then settled ourselves to wait with what patience we might for the raft to float. We stuck to the boat, the mangrove swamp not being a very inviting place to roam in, even if experience had not taught us a lesson. Daylight came; we could see the ship, which was pleasant, and could not see any natives, which was equally agreeable. The sun had got well up, and the tide had risen very perceptibly, and still everything was apparently going on all right. The vague sense of uneasiness which we had felt at first, and which had kept our eyes pretty wide open and our mouths closely shut in the early part of the morning, gradually gave way to a sense of satisfaction at the manner in which we were outwitting the natives, and we chuckled a little bit among ourselves, though in a somewhat guarded manner, certainly.

      "The raft's nearly afloat, boys," said Mr. S., at ten o'clock or thereabouts; "we'll be off in half an hour, and the black thieves can bag their heads. Halloo! what's that? Take a look at the ship, Dick."

      The exclamation was drawn from him by a low, dull booming sound from the direction

of the ship. Jumping into the little stream, from the bow of the boat, where I had been lying, I parted the mangroves and looked out. The ship was all right, and nothing appeared to awaken distrust; but while I looked, a puff of white smoke rose from her waist, and I saw a dark object run up and down from her taffrail to the end of the spanker-gaff, several times. It was the "wheft," or recall flag, which did not blow out so as to show well, the day being hot and still. The ship was signaling our return, and running the wheft up and down was to emphasize it. In a few moments the dull boom of the cannon again reached us.

      "The wheft's running up and down, sir, and they are firing the gun," I reported to our officer.

      "Launch the boat-off with her, boys," said Mr. S., sharply and decisively; "there's a screw loose somewhere; the sooner we're off there the better. Off she goes."

      We ran the boat into the water, shipped our oars, and started for the ship. As we passed the raft I remarked, "The raft's all afloat, sir."

      "Pull away – never mind the raft; lay back, my lads," was the reply, as we left the anchored casks astern.

      The sun was hot, but we pulled a long, sweeping stroke that was rapidly taking us out clear of the point, when the signal-gun again boomed forth its warning, this time much louder and more startling, as we were considerably nearer than when it was first fired. All hands had been looking anxiously round to discover the cause of the evident uneasiness on board the ship, but nothing had rewarded our search. We knew that we must be visible from the ship, for they knew just where to look for us, and we were less than six miles distant.

      "Lay back, men," said the third mate, commencing to "back up" the after oar for the first time since we started; "lay back; there's the devil to pay somewhere, that we can't see. Spring her, boys, spring her!"

      All felt as if, as Mr. S. had said, "the devil was to pay somewhere," and we laid back with a will, shooting our light boat through the water at a rate which soon took us clear of the point. The earnestness of the ship's men was all explained now. There, less than a mile from us, fair abeam, and paddling rapidly for the ship, were at least twenty large canoes, holding probably forty men each. To resist such a force in our boat was hopeless; our only hope of salvation lay in gaining the ship before they did.

      As we were pulling straight for the vessel, and the canoes were aiming for the same point, we were of course rapidly nearing each other; our aim was to be ahead of the natives before the converging lines of our respective courses should meet. It was a hard race – to an uninterested spectator it would doubtless have been very fine; but we didn't think much of it. Pulling for life, the stake is too heavy for the contestants to enjoy it. No breath was wasted in talk, for none needed urging to lay out the last ounce of strength. The musket in the bow bothered me a little; I missed a stroke and tossed it overboard. The third mate said nothing, but ceased heaving on the stroke oar a moment to toss over the other. So much weight was gone, and that was of more importance than all the fighting we could do, if we were overhauled.

      We had reached within a mile of the ship, when it was evident that if there were any advantage in speed it was on our side – we were certainly a little ahead of the other racers. The savages, a set of naked, howling demons, eager for vengeance, and accustomed to the heat of the climate, plied their paddles with a will; while we were encumbered with clothing, (not much of it, to be sure, but still enough to make a difference), and were but a few months away from the cold and cheerless region of sea north of Behring's Strait. But men will work hard for life; we did. Five minutes more would decide the race, one way or the other.

      We had pulled in a direct line for the ship; but the savages had headed a very little across our course, hoping to cut us off, so that some of their canoes were now in our wake and well astern. But the leading one was a little on our quarter, and not more than a ship's length off. Two years' practice in whaleboats had trained our muscles well, but though we had many a hard tug after "fast boats," we had never seen occasion for such exercise as this race was giving us, and aching wrists and labored breathing warned me that not many more miles would finish me; nor were the others less distressed. One man only of our crew seemed fresh %ndash; Peanuts, the black Portuguese, who bent his long back as he reached the blade of his eighteen-foot oar nearly forward of mine, and then bent the stout ash as though it were a bit of willow, without "turning a

hair" with sweat. Half blinded with the perspiration which streamed from our foreheads into our eyes, we could not spare even the moment required to dry our faces, but labored on, scarce able to see our oar-blades, the silence in our boat, broken only by the rapid, steady rollicking of the oars and the deep breathing of the rowers, contrasting strangely with the infernal yellings of our pursuers. Mr. S. could see the ship, of course, as he faced that way, but the boat's crew could not, and the third mate could not see the canvas; but neither party could spare an instant to look around. Moments were too precious just then. Peanuts was the first to break the silence which had been observed since we first saw the canoes. Gnashing his teeth at the enemy, he said: —

      "You black dev! we beatee you!" and suddenly elevating his voice to a yell, he continued, "we beatee you!"

      "Do we drop 'em any, Dick?" gasped Mr. S., without turning round.

      "Yes, sir, I think we do a little," answered I; for I could see that the gap between us had increased.

      "Hurrah, boys!" continued the third mate; "they haven't got us yet. Then we bring the ship this way, a boat's length every stroke. I can see the gun-barrels shine – there's men in the top with muskets. Lay back, boys; another half-mile and we're safe."

      Encouraged by the prospect of victory in the race, hope and a feeling of defiance lent new vigor to our weakened and over-exerted muscles; and as the sound of a cheer from our shipmates reached our ears, telling us how eagerly we were watched and how ready our companions were to assist us if possible, an answering shout went back from us – drowned though it was in the yelling of the natives.

      "Keep you stroke now, men, keep your stroke now," said the officer; "don't hurry your stroke; we'll do 'em brown yet; keep your stroke, and lay back; one minute more and we're there. Steady and cool's the word. Ha! there goes a musket."

      We heard no report, nor the whiz of the bullet, but a commotion in the leading canoe indicated that someone was hurt. A moment later and we could hear the report of the muskets which the men in the tops were firing at our pursuers, and the whiz of the bullets over our heads.

      In spite of himself, and his admonition to us to keep cool, a yell of exultation broke from the third mate, and was joined in by all hands. We had good cause to exult. Several of the natives must have been hit, judging from the confusion in the foremost canoe, which still pursued, but had evidently lost heart in the chase. We could distinguish the shouts of our shipmates as they cheered us on. And then came the chief mate's hail, "Pull round the stern, Mr. S."

      We shot round the ship's stern, and alongside; in a few seconds we were on deck, exhausted, but safe. Each man grasped a weapon to face the foe; but they evidently had no intention to attack. On the contrary, they were paddling as fast as possible to get out of range of the bullets, which were being sent at them from the decks, now, as well as from the tops. The signal-gun, from which the "assorted " charge had been drawn before signaling to us, had been reloaded, and was pointing out of the waist at the canoes.

      Peanuts, whose blood was up, and who was fairly foaming with rage, saw the captain's "pepper-box " lying on the capstan, snatched it up, ran to the waist, and snapped it at the vent of the signal-gun. For once, the wretched pepper-box went off the first time it was snapped; and a deafening report ensued, the spikes and other missiles spattering thickly in the water around the retreating canoes, and doubtless doing much injury, while the over-loaded old gun kicked square over the main hatch, landing on its back with the carriage uppermost against the opposite bulwarks.

      That was the last shot fired. How many, if any, of the savages were killed, we could not tell; but there were enough of them left to paddle back to the shore again nearly as rapidly as they had come, at any rate. As the canoes neared the land on their return, the captain suddenly turned to the mate, "Man the windlass, Mr. C.; we'll get out of this hole."

      The anchor was lifted and our canvas being filled with a light breeze, we soon left the accursed islands astern; and the sun rose next morning on an unbroken horizon of water. Our raft of casks may be anchored there yet – we never went to look after it again; and its loss put us on short allowance of water until we reached Tumbez, in Peru, some time after. If any one wants to go to the Easter Islands for water he can go; but I shall beg leave to decline keeping him company.

Source:

Roshow Bezone, Jr.
"After a Drink."
      Ballou's Monthly Magazine.
Vol. 70, No. 1 (Jul 1889).
pp. 65-72

William H. Macy  Source  Whalesite