← catalogue

The Island Queen

by R. M. Ballantyne · English · Gutenberg #21741 · 339,079 chars · public domain (US)

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Island Queen
    
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: The Island Queen

Author: R. M. Ballantyne


        
Release date: June 7, 2007 [eBook #21741]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/21741

Credits: Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ISLAND QUEEN ***




Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




THE ISLAND QUEEN, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.



CHAPTER ONE.

DETHRONED BY FIRE AND WATER--A TALE OF THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE.

THE OPEN BOAT.

Early one morning, in the year 18 hundred and something, the great
Southern Ocean was in one of its calmest moods, insomuch that the
cloudlets in the blue vault above were reflected with almost perfect
fidelity in the blue hemisphere below, and it was barely possible to
discern the dividing-line between water and sky.

The only objects within the circle of the horizon that presented the
appearance of solidity were an albatross sailing in the air, and a
little boat floating on the sea.

The boat rested on its own reflected image, almost motionless, save when
a slight undulation of the water caused the lower edge of its reflection
to break off in oily patches; but there was no dip of oars at its sides,
no rowers on its thwarts, no guiding hand at the helm.

Evidently the albatross regarded the boat with curiosity not unmixed
with suspicion, for it sailed in wide circles round it, with
outstretched neck, head turned on one side, and an eye bent inquiringly
downward.  By slow degrees the circles diminished, until the giant bird
floated almost directly over the boat.  Then, apparently, it saw more
than enough to satisfy its curiosity, for, uttering a hoarse cry, it
swooped aside, and, with a flap of its mighty wings, made off towards
the horizon, where it finally disappeared.

The flap and the cry seemed, however, to have put life into the little
boat, for a human head rose slowly above the gunwale.  It was that of a
youth, of about twenty years of age, apparently in the last stage of
exhaustion.  He looked round slowly, with a dazed expression, like one
who only half awakes from sleep.  Drawing his hand across his brow, and
gazing wistfully on the calm sea, he rose on his knees with difficulty,
and rested his arms on a thwart, while he turned his gaze with a look of
intense anxiety on the countenance of a young girl who lay in the bottom
of the boat close beside him, asleep or dead.

"It looks like death," murmured the youth, as he bent over the pale
face, his expression betraying sudden alarm; "and it must--it must come
to this soon; yet I cannot bear the thought.  O God, spare her!"

It seemed as if the prayer were answered at once, for a fluttering sigh
escaped from the girl's bloodless lips, but she did not awake.

"Ah! sleep on, dear sister," said the youth, "it is all the comfort that
is left to you now.  Oh for food!  How often I have wasted it; thought
lightly of it; grumbled because it was not quite to my taste!  What
would I not give for a little of it now--a very little!"

He turned his head away from the sleeping girl, and a wolfish glare
seemed to shoot from his eyes as they rested on something which lay in
the stern of the boat.

There were other human beings in that boat besides the youth and his
sister--some still living, some dead, for they had been many days on
short allowance, and the last four days in a state of absolute
starvation--all, save Pauline Rigonda and her little brother Otto, whose
fair curly head rested on his sister's arm.

During the last two nights, when all was still, and the starving sailors
were slumbering, or attempting to slumber, Dominick Rigonda--the youth
whom we have just introduced to the reader--had placed a small quantity
of broken biscuit in the hands of his sister and little brother, with a
stern though whispered command to eat it secretly and in silence.

Obediently they ate, or rather devoured, their small portion, wondering
where their brother had found it.  Perchance they might have relished it
less if they had known that Dominick had saved it off his own too scant
allowance, when he saw that the little store in the boat was drawing to
an end--saved it in the hope of being able to prolong the lives of
Pauline and Otto.

This reserve, however, had been also exhausted, and it seemed as if the
last ray of hope had vanished from Dominick's breast, on the calm
morning on which our tale opens.

As we have said, the youth glared at something lying in the stern of the
boat.  It was a tarpaulin, which covered a human form.  Dominick knew
that it was a dead body--that of the cabin-boy, who had died during the
night with his head resting on Dominick's arm.  The two men who lay
sleeping in the bow knew nothing of his death, and they were so weak
from exhaustion at the time the boy died that Dominick had thought it
unnecessary to rouse them.  The poor boy's emaciated frame could lie
till morning, he thought, and then the sleepers would assist him to put
it gently into the sea.

But when morning came, the pangs of hunger assailed the self-denying
youth with terrible power, and a horrible thought occurred to him.  He
opened a large clasp-knife, and, creeping towards the body, removed the
tarpaulin.  A faint smile rested on the dead lips--the same smile that
had moved them when Dominick promised to carry the boy's last loving
message to his mother if he should survive.

He dropped the knife with a convulsive shudder, and turned his eyes on
his sleeping sister and brother.  Then he thought, as he picked up the
knife again, how small an amount of food would suffice to keep these two
alive for a few days longer, and surely a sail _must_ come in sight at
last; they had waited for it, expectingly, so long!

Suddenly the youth flung the knife away from him with violence, and
endeavoured with all his might to lift the body of the boy.  In the days
of his strength he could have raised it with one hand.  Now he strove
and energised for many minutes, before he succeeded in raising it to the
gunwale.  At last, with a mighty effort, he thrust it overboard, and it
fell into the sea with a heavy plunge.

The noise aroused the two men in the bow, who raised themselves feebly.
It was to them an all too familiar sound.  Day by day they had heard it,
as one and another of their comrades had been committed to the deep.
One of the men managed to stand up, but as he swayed about and gazed at
Dominick inquiringly, he lost his balance, and, being too weak to
recover himself, fell over the side.  He reappeared for a moment with
outstretched arms and hands clutching towards the boat.  Then he sank,
to be seen no more.  The other man, who had been his intimate friend and
messmate, made a frantic effort to save him.  His failure to do so
seemed to be more than the poor fellow could bear, for he sprang up with
the wild laugh and the sudden strength of a maniac, and leaped into the
sea.

Dominick could do nothing to prevent this.  While staring at the little
patch of foam where the two men had gone down, he was startled by the
sound of his sister's voice.

"Are they _all_ gone, brother?" she asked, in a low, horrified tone.

"All--all, sister.  Only you, and Otto, and I left.  How soundly the
poor boy sleeps!"

"I wish it might please God to let him die thus," said Pauline, with a
weary sigh that told eloquently of hope deferred.

"Your wish may be granted," returned Dominick, "for the dear boy seems
to be sinking.  It can scarcely, I think, be natural sleep that
prevented the shout of that poor fellow from arousing him.  But lie down
again, Pauline; sleep may do you a little good if you can obtain it, and
I will watch."

"And pray," suggested the poor girl, as she lay down again, languidly.

"Yes, I will pray.  Surely a sail must appear soon!"

Dominick Rigonda was strong in youthful hope even in that hour of sorest
trial, but he was not strong in faith.  He prayed, however, and found
his faith strengthened in the act, for he looked up immediately after
with a feeling amounting almost to certainty, that the long-expected and
wished-for sail would greet his eyes.  But no sail was visible in all
the unbroken circle of his horizon.  Still the faith which had prompted
the eager gaze did not quite evaporate.  After the first shock of
disappointment at his prayer not being answered according to its tenor,
his assurance that God would yet send relief returned in some degree,
and he was not altogether disappointed, though the answer came at last
in a way that he did not expect.

After sitting in a half-sleeping condition for some time, he aroused
himself, and crept with considerable difficulty to the bow to procure
the blanket which had covered the two men who had just perished.  A
corner of the blanket had caught on the end of one of the floor-planks.
In disengaging it Dominick chanced to raise the plank which was loose,
and observed something like a bundle lying underneath.  Curiosity
prompted him to examine it.  He found that it was wrapped in canvas, and
carefully tied with cord.  Opening it he discovered to his surprise and
intense joy that it contained some ship's biscuit, a piece of boiled
pork, and a flask of water.

Only those who have been suddenly presented with food and drink, while
starving can appreciate the feelings that filled the heart of the poor
youth with laughter and thanksgiving; but his joy was not selfish, for
the prospect of immediate personal relief had but a secondary place in
his thoughts.

Hastening with the inestimable treasure to the place where his brother
and sister lay, he carefully spread it out on a piece of sailcloth, and
cut a few thin slices of the pork before arousing them.

"Awake, sister, and eat!" he said at last, gently shaking Pauline by the
shoulder.

"O Dominick!" she exclaimed, raising herself, and gazing eagerly at the
food.  "I was dreaming of this when you awoke me!"

"That's odd, now," said little Otto, who had also been aroused, "for I
was dreaming of eating!  And I am so hung--"

He got no further, for, having clutched a handful of biscuit, he
suddenly stopped the way of utterance.

"How good of you, Dom!" said Pauline, eating with as much relish, though
not with such voracity, as her little brother, "Where did you get this?"

"No matter; eat and be thankful," said Dominick curtly, for he was
himself eating with wolfish haste by that time.  He restrained himself,
however, after a few minutes.

"Hold!  We must not indulge too freely.  It will hurt us after fasting
so long.  Besides, this supply is very small, and must be made to last
as long as possible.  No, my boy, you must eat no more at this time, but
you may drink a little."

About a table-spoonful of water was measured out to each, and then the
remainder of the food was carefully wrapped up and put away.

"Do you think that this supply was hidden by one of the poor fellows who
left us this morning?" asked Pauline.

"I think so; and no doubt his motive was a good one.  You know he was
very fond of his messmate.  I should think he saved up his allowance to
help him; but, whatever the motive, it has proved a blessing to us--"

He ceased speaking, for both sister and little brother had drooped their
weary heads, and were again in a heavy slumber.  Dominick himself felt
intensely the desire to follow their example, but he resisted it,
feeling that it was his duty to watch for the long-expected sail that
never appeared.  At first his efforts were successful, but by degrees
the tendency to sleep became so overpowering that his struggles were
unavailing.  Sense of duty and every other motive gave way before it;
his head finally dropped forward, and, with a heavy sigh of contentment,
he followed his brother and sister to the land of Nod.

Profound, prolonged, and refreshing was that sweet slumber, after the
first good meal these poor castaways had eaten for many days.  The
weather fortunately continued bright and warm, so that they did not
suffer so much from exposure as on previous days, and the gentle rocking
of the boat tended to deepen and prolong their repose.

Thus they floated peacefully during the greater part of that day--the
one solitary speck on the surface of the great ocean, for the albatross
seemed to have finally forsaken them.

Towards noon a light westerly breeze sprang up.  It was not sufficient
to raise a sea or disturb the sleepers, but, in conjunction with ocean
currents, it drifted them to the south-east at a considerable rate, so
that in the evening, without the aid of oar or sail, they were far from
the spot upon the sea where we introduced them to the reader.

At last Dominick awoke with a long-drawn sigh, and, raising his head,
looked over the side of the boat.  An exclamation of surprise and joy
broke from him, for there, like a speck, where something like a heavy
bank of clouds rested on the horizon, was the long-expected sail.

His first impulse was to awaken the sleepers, but he checked himself.
He would look more carefully.  His eyes might be deceiving him, and the
disappointment, if he should be mistaken, would be overwhelming.  He
would spare them that.  Rising to his feet he shaded his eyes with one
hand, and gazed long and earnestly.

The longer he looked, however, and the more he rubbed his eyes, the more
convinced was he that a vessel was really in sight.

"Pauline," he said at length, with suppressed emotion, as he gently
shook her arm, "see, God _has_ answered our prayers: a vessel is in
sight!"

The poor girl raised herself quickly, with an exclamation of
thankfulness, and gazed intently in the direction pointed out.

"It is, surely it is a ship," she said, "but--but--don't you think there
is something curious about its appearance?"

"I have indeed been puzzled during the last few minutes," replied
Dominick.  "It seems as if there were something strange under her, and
her position, too, is rather odd.--Ho!  Otto, rouse up, my boy, and look
at the vessel coming to save us.  Your eyes are sharp!  Say, d'you see
anything strange about her?"

Thus appealed to, Otto, who felt greatly refreshed by his good meal and
long sleep, sat up and also gazed at the vessel in question.

"No, Dom," he said at length; "I don't see much the matter with her,
except that she leans over on one side a good deal, and there's
something black under and around her."

"Can it be a squall that has struck her?" said Pauline.  "Squalls, you
know, make ships lie over very much at times, and cause the sea round
them to look very dark."

"It may be so," returned Dominick doubtfully.  "But we shall soon see,
for a squall won't take very long to bring her down to us."

They watched the approaching vessel with intense eagerness, but did not
again speak for a considerable time.  Anxiety and doubt kept them
silent.  There was the danger that the vessel might fail to observe
them, and as their oars had been washed away they had no means of
hoisting a flag of distress.  Then there was the unaccountable something
about the vessel's appearance, which puzzled and filled them with
uncertainty.  At last they drew so near that Dominick became all too
well aware of what it was, and a sinking of the heart kept him still
silent for a time.

"Brother," said Pauline at last in a sad voice, as she turned her dark
eyes on Dominick, "I fear it is only a wreck."

"You are right," he replied gloomily; "a wreck on a barren shore, too.
Not a scrap of vegetation on it, as far as I can see--a mere sandbank.
Currents are carrying us towards it, and have led us to fancy that the
vessel was moving."

He spoke with bitterness, for the disappointment was very great, and
physical weakness had rendered him less able to bear it than he might
otherwise have been.

"Don't get grumpy, Dom," said Otto, with a slightly humorous look that
was peculiar to him--a look which had not lighted up his eyes for many
days past.

"I _won't_ get grumpy," returned Dominick with sudden energy, patting
the boy's head.  "It is quite clear that a good feed and a long rest
were all you required to set up your plucky little spirit again."

"Dom," said Pauline, who had been looking intently at the wreck, "is
there not something like a line of white close to the wreck?"

"Ay, there is," replied Dominick, his countenance again becoming grave;
"it is a line of breakers, through which it will be very difficult to
steer our little boat."

"Steer, Dom," exclaimed Otto, with a look of surprise; "how can you talk
of steering at all, without oar or helm?"

"I must make one of the floor-planks do for both," returned Dominick.

"I say," continued the boy, "I'm horribly hungry.  Mayn't I have just a
bite or two more?"

"Stay, I'm thinking," replied the other.

"Think fast then, please, for the wolf inside of me is howling."

The result of Dominick's thinking was that he resolved to consume as
much of their stock of provisions as possible in one meal, in order to
secure all the strength that was available by such means, and thus fit
them for the coming struggle with the surf.  "For," said he, "if we get
capsized far from the shore, we have no chance of reaching it by
swimming in our present weak condition.  Our only plan is to get up all
the strength we can by means of food.  So here goes!"

He untied the bundle as he spoke, and spread the contents on his knees.
Otto--who was, indeed, a plucky little fellow, and either did not
realise or did not fear the danger that lay before him--commenced to eat
with almost jovial avidity.  Indeed, all three showed that they had
benefited greatly by what they had already eaten, and now, for the first
time during many days, consumed what they considered a full and
satisfactory meal, while they drifted slowly, but steadily, towards the
land.

As they neared it, the heavy mass on the horizon, which they had taken
for a bank of clouds, became more distinct.  A light haze cleared away
and showed it to be an island, to which the sandbank formed a barrier
reef; but any interest that might have been aroused by this discovery
was absorbed by present anxiety, for the white and gleaming surf warned
them that a serious and critical moment in their lives was fast
approaching.  Pauline was awed into silence, and even Otto's countenance
became gradually solemnised.



CHAPTER TWO.

WRECKED ON A REEF.

The coral reefs, which in various shapes and sizes stud the Southern
seas, are sometimes rendered almost unapproachable by the immense waves
which fall upon them.  Even in the calmest weather these huge breakers
may be seen falling with prolonged roar on the beach.  The lightest
undulation on the sea, which might almost escape observation away from
land, takes the form of a grand, quiet billow as it draws near to an
islet or reef, and finally, coming majestically on, like a wall of
rolling crystal, breaks the silence suddenly by its thunderous fall, and
gives to the sands a temporary fringe of pure white foam.

To ride in on the crest of one such roller on a piece of board and leap
upon the shore, is a feat peculiar to South Sea islanders, who are
trained to the water from earliest infancy.  To do the same thing in a
small boat, without oars, without strength, without experience, almost
without courage, is a feat that no South Sea islander would attempt, and
the necessity for performing which might cause the hair of any
islander's head to stand on end.

That Dominick Rigonda's hair did not stand on end, as he sat there with
pale cheeks and compressed lips, was probably due to the fact that he
had thrust his straw hat tightly down on his brows.

As the boat drew nearer to the reef, both Pauline and Otto had risen, in
the strength of their hearty meal, and were now seated on the thwarts of
the boat.  Their brother had selected the thickest floor-plank, and cut
it roughly into the form of an oar with a clasp-knife.  He now sat with
it over the stern, sculling gently--very gently, however, for he
reserved the little strength that remained to him for the critical
moment.

The undulations of the sea, which had rocked them hitherto so softly,
had by that time assumed a decided form and force, so that the boat rose
on the oily back of each billow that passed under it, and slid back into
a watery hollow, to be relifted by each successive wave.

"You look very anxious," said Pauline, clasping her hands on her knee,
and gazing earnestly in her brother's face.

"I cannot help it," returned Dominick, curtly.

"Is our danger then so great?"

Dominick only half admitted that it was.  He did not wish to alarm her,
and tried to smile as he said that the struggle would be brief--it would
soon be over.

"But tell me, where lies the danger?" persisted Pauline.  "I do not
quite see it."

"`Where ignorance is bliss,' dear, `'tis folly to be wise,'" returned
Dominick, with an unsuccessful effort to look more at ease.

"Nay, brother, but I am not ignorant that danger exists--only ignorant
as to the amount and nature of it.  Surely there cannot be much risk in
pushing our boat through that white foam that lines the shore with so
soft a fringe."

"I should think not," broke in the pert and inexperienced Otto; "why,
Pina," (thus he abridged his sister's name), "there's as much danger, I
should think, in pushing through a tub of soap-suds."

"Come, Dom," returned the girl, "explain it to me; for if you don't
point out where the danger really lies, if you leave me in this state of
partial ignorance, I shall be filled with alarm instead of bliss from
this moment till we reach the shore."

"Well, well, sister," said Dominick, when thus urged; "if you must have
it, I will explain."

He went on to show that when the boat came near the shore the waves
would grasp it, instead of letting it slip back; would carry it swiftly
in on their crests, so that the great difficulty in such a case would be
to keep the boat's head pointing to the land, and if he failed to do so,
they would infallibly be overturned and have to swim ashore.

"Well, that would be unpleasant, Dom," said the ignorant, as well as
innocent, Pauline, "but it would not matter much, for we can all swim--
thanks to you for insisting on teaching us long ago."

"We will try our best," said Dominick, who thereupon relapsed into
silence, wisely resolving to let his sister retain all the "bliss" of
"ignorance" that was possible under the circumstances.

Indeed, there was not much more time for conversation, for the power of
the waves was beginning to be felt by the little craft, and the clumsy
oar did not act with as much precision or force as was desirable, while
Dominick's weakness rendered the steering difficult.  Pauline now began
to realise the danger somewhat more clearly from experience, and even
Otto showed symptoms of surprise that amounted very nearly to alarm, as
the boat at one point made a sudden rush on a wave-top as if it meant to
try a race with it, and then as suddenly slipped back into the hollow
behind, as if it had been disheartened, feeling that there was no
chance.

At last they reached the point of greatest danger.  The huge waves, as
we have said, commenced out at sea in long, gentle undulations.  Nearer
the shore they advanced in the shape of glassy walls, one after another,
like successive lines of indomitable infantry in time of war.  Further
in, the tops of these waves began to gurgle and foam, and gather real,
instead of seeming, motion, as they rushed towards their fall.  It was
here that the boat showed symptoms of becoming unmanageable.

"Why, the water's beginning to boil!" exclaimed Otto, in some anxiety.

"Hold on, boy, and keep quiet," said his brother.

As he spoke, the water gurgled up, so that it seemed as if about to pour
inboard all round.  At the same time the boat made a rush shoreward as
if suddenly endowed with life.  Dominick struggled manfully to keep the
stern to the sea.  He succeeded, but in another moment the boat slipped
back.  It had not been fairly caught, and the wave passed on to fall
with a roar like thunder a hundred yards or so ahead.

"The next will do it," said Dominick, with an anxious glance behind,
where a crystal wall was coming grandly on--unnaturally high, it seemed
to them, owing to their position in the hollow.

No need to tell Otto now to hold on!  No need to explain difficulty or
danger to Pauline!  As her brother stood at the oar, quivering as much
from weakness as exertion, she understood it all.  But she was brave,
and she could swim.  This latter fact lent her additional confidence.
Best of all, she had faith in God, and her spirit was calmed, for,
whether life or death lay before her, she knew that her soul was "safe."

As Dominick had prophesied, the next wave took them fairly in its grasp.
For a few moments the water hissed and gurgled round them.  The
steersman seemed to lose control for a second or two, but quickly
recovered.  Then there was a bound, as if the boat had been shot from a
catapult, and the billow fell.  A tremendous roar, tumultuous foam all
round, increasing speed!  The land appeared to be rushing at them, when
Dominick's oar snapped suddenly, and he went overboard.  A shriek from
Pauline and a shout from Otto rose high above the din of raging water,
as the boat broached-to and hurled its remaining occupants into the sea.

Even in that trying moment Dominick did not lose presence of mind.  He
could swim and dive like a water-rat.  Pushing towards his brother and
sister, who were heading bravely for the shore, he shouted, "Dig your
fingers and toes deep into the sand, and hold on for life, if--" (he
corrected himself) "_when_ you gain the beach."

It was well they were forewarned, and that they were constitutionally
obedient.  A few minutes later, and they were all swept up high on the
beach in a wilderness of foam.  The return of that wilderness was like
the rushing of a millrace.  Sand, stones, sticks, and seaweed went back
with it in dire confusion.  Prone on their knees, with fingers and toes
fixed, and heads down, the brothers and sister met the rush.  It was
almost too much for them.  A moment more, and strength as well as breath
would have failed; but the danger passed, and Dominick sprang to his
feet.

"Up, up! and run!" he shouted, as he caught Pauline round the waist and
dragged her on.  Otto needed no help.  They were barely in time.  The
succeeding wave roared after them as if maddened at having lost its
prey, and the foaming water was up with them, and almost round their
knees, ere its fury was quite spent.

"Safe!" exclaimed Dominick.

"Thank God!" murmured Pauline, as she sank exhausted on the sand.

Otto, who had never seen his sister in such a state before, ran to her,
and, kneeling down, anxiously seized one of her hands.

"Never fear, lad," said his brother in reassuring tones, "she'll soon
come round.  Lend a hand to lift her."

They bore the fainting girl up the beach, and laid her on a grassy spot
under a bush.  And now Dominick was glad to find that he had been
mistaken in supposing that the coral reef was a mere sandbank, destitute
of vegetation.  Indeed, before landing, he had observed that there were
a few trees on the highest part of it.  He now perceived that there was
quite a little grove of cocoa-nut palms, with a thicket of underwood
around them, which, if not extensive, was at all events comparatively
dense.  He pointed out the fact to Otto, who was chafing his sister's
hands.

"Ay," responded Otto, "and the island on the other side must be a
goodish big one, for I got a glimpse of it through the trees as we came
rushing in on that monstrous wave."

In a short time Pauline recovered, and Dominick returned to the water's
edge with Otto.

"Our first care must be," he said, "to save our little boat if we can,
for it is the only means we have of escaping from this island."

"Escaping!" repeated Otto, in surprise.  "I don't want to escape from
it, Dom."

"Indeed! why not?"

"Why, because I've dreamed about being cast on a desolate island
hundreds of times, and I've read about Robinson Crusoe, and all the
other Crusoes, and I've longed to be cast on one, and now I am cast on
one, so I don't want to escape.  It'll be the greatest fun in the world.
I only hope I won't wake up, as usual, to find that it's all a dream!"

Dominick laughed (not scornfully, by any means) at the boy's enthusiasm;
nevertheless he had strong sympathy with him, for the period had not
passed so long ago when he himself entertained a very vivid impression
of the romance of such a situation, and he did not trouble his mind
about the stern realities.

"I sincerely hope it may come up to your expectations, Otto, my boy;
nevertheless we must secure the boat for fishing purposes, even though
we don't try to escape in it."

"For fishing! why, we have neither hooks nor lines."

"True, lad; but we have got fingers and brains.  It strikes me that we
shall have occasion to use all our powers and possessions if we are not
to starve here, for the reef seems to have very little vegetation on it,
and there is sure to be a lagoon of water on the other side, separating
it from the island beyond."

"I wonder if there is fresh water on the reef," said Otto, with a very
sudden look of solemnity and pursing of the mouth.

"You may well ask that.  I hope there is.  We will go and settle the
point the moment we have secured the boat, if--"

He stopped, for he saw at that moment that the sea had taken good care
to secure the boat to itself as a plaything.  Having dashed it into
small pieces, it was by that time busily engaged in tossing these about
among the foam, now hurling the splinters high upon the shore, anon
sending up long watery tongues to lick them back, and then casting them
under the incoming rollers, to be further reduced into what is usually
styled matchwood.

There was a small bay close at hand, where the sandy beach was strewn
with rocks, in which the sea appeared to play this game with unusual
vigour.  It was a sort of hospital for marine incurables, into which the
sea cast its broken toys when tired of smashing them up, and left them
there to rot.

Regarding this spot with a thoughtful look, Dominick remarked that the
wreck which lay on the rocks off the tail of the island was by no means
the first that had taken place there.

"And won't be the last, I fancy," said Otto.

"Probably not.  Indeed, from the appearance of this bay, and the fact
that an ocean current drifted us towards the spot, I should think that
the island is a particularly dangerous one for vessels.  But come, we'll
go see how Pina gets on, and then proceed to examine our new home."

Returning to the place where Pauline had been left, they found the poor
girl wringing the water out of her dress.  The news of the fate of the
little boat did not seem to affect her much, she did not fully
appreciate the loss, and was more taken up with the idea of thankfulness
for deliverance from death.

"May I not go with you?" she asked, on hearing that her brothers were
going to search for water.

"Certainly.  I thought you might perhaps prefer to rest, and dry your
clothes in the sun," replied Dominick.

"Walking will dry them better," said Pina.  "Besides, I have quite
recovered."

"You're a plucky little woman," said Otto, as they set off.  "Isn't it
nice to be here all by ourselves, on a real uninhabited island, quite
fit for Robinson himself?  Who knows but we may find Friday in the
bushes!"

"Wouldn't that spoil it as an uninhabited isle?"

"A little, but not much."

"The thicket is too small to contain anything with life, I fear," said
Dominick, whose anxiety as to food and drink prevented his sympathising
much with the small-talk of the other two.  "Luckily the weather is
warm," he added, "and we won't require better shelter at present than
the bushes afford, unless a storm comes.--Ho what have we here?--a
path!"

They had reached the entrance to the thicket, and discovered what
appeared to be an opening into it, made apparently by the hand of man.

"Nothing more likely," said Pauline.  "If so many wrecks have taken
place here--as you seem to think--some of the crews must have landed,
and perhaps lived here."

"Ay, and died here," returned Dominick, in a grave, low tone, as he
pointed to a skeleton lying on a spot which had once been cleared of
bushes, but so long ago that the vegetation had partially grown up
again.  The man whose bleached bones lay before them had evidently
perished many years before.  On examination, nothing was found to afford
any information about him, but when they had advanced a dozen yards
further they came upon six little mounds, which showed that a party--
probably a wrecked crew--had sojourned there for a time, and finally
perished: so far their story was clear enough.  One by one they must
have sunk, until the last man had lain down to die and remain unburied.

Pushing past these sad evidences of former suffering, and feeling that
the same fate might await themselves, they came to a sight which tended
slightly to restore their spirits.  It was a pool of water of
considerable size, whether a spring or a rain-pool they could not tell.
Neither did they care at that time, for the sudden feeling of relieved
anxiety was so great, that they ran forward, as if under one impulse,
and, lying down on their breasts, took a long refreshing draught.  So
powerful was the influence of this refreshment and discovery on their
spirits that they became totally regardless and forgetful for the moment
about food--all the more that, having so recently had a good meal, they
were not hungry.

"I was sure we would find water," said Otto, as they continued to
explore the thicket, "and I've no doubt that we shall find yams and
plantains and breadfruits, and--aren't these the sort of things that
grow wild on coral islands, Dom?"

"Yes, but I fear not on such a little scrap of reef as this.  However,
we shall not be quite destitute, for there are cocoa-nuts, you see--
though not many of them.  Come, our prospects are brightening, and as
the sun is beginning to sink, we will look out for a suitable
camping-ground."

"As far away from the skeleton, please, as possible," said Otto.

"Surely you don't suppose it can hurt you?" said Pauline.

"N-no, of course not, but it would be unpleasant to have it for a
bedfellow, you know; so, the further away from it the better."

As he spoke they emerged from the thicket, at the end opposite to the
spot where they had entered, and had their spirits again powerfully
cheered by coming suddenly into a blaze of sunshine, for the bright orb
of day was descending at that side of the islet, and his red,
resplendent rays were glowing on the reef and on the palm-trees.

They also came in full view of the islet beyond, which, they now
perceived, was of considerable size, and covered with vegetation, but,
as Dominick had suspected, separated completely from the reef or outer
isle on which they stood by a deep lagoon.

"Splendid!" exclaimed Pauline.

"As I feared," muttered Dominick, "and no means of reaching it."

"Pooh!  Didn't Robinson Crusoe make rafts?" said Otto; "at least if he
didn't, somebody else did, and anyhow _we_ can."

"Come, let us continue our walk," said Dominick.  "You don't fully
appreciate the loss of our boat Otto.  Don't you see that, even if we do
build a raft, it will at best be a clumsy thing to manage, and heavy to
pull, slow to sail, and bad to steer, and if we should chance to be on
it when a stiff breeze springs up from the land, we should probably be
driven out to sea and lost--or separated, if Pina should chance to have
been left on shore at the time."

"What a fellow you are, Dom, for supposing chances and difficulties, and
fancying they cannot be overcome," returned Otto, with the pert
self-sufficiency that characterised him.  "For my part I rather enjoy
difficulties, because of the fun of overcoming them.  Don't you see, we
three can make quite sure of never being separated by never going out on
our raft except together, so that we shall always enjoy ourselves
unitedly, or perish in company.  Then we can easily get over the
difficulty of being blown out to sea, by never going on the sea at all,
but confining ourselves entirely to the lagoon, which is large enough
for any reasonable man, and may be larger than we think, for we can't
see the whole of it from where we stand.  Then, as to sailing and rowing
slowly, we can overcome these difficulties by not being in a hurry,--
taking things easy, you know."

To this Dominick replied that there was one difficulty which his little
brother, with all his wisdom and capacity, would never overcome.

"And what may that be?" demanded Otto.

"The difficulty of being unable to talk common-sense."

"True, Dom, true, that is a great difficulty," retorted the boy, with
deep humility of aspect, "for a man's conversation is greatly affected
by the company he keeps, and with _you_ as my only male companion, I
have not much to hope for in the way of example.  But even that may be
got the better of by holding intercourse chiefly with Pina."

"But what if I refuse to talk?" said Pauline, with a laugh.

"Then will you be all the more able to listen, sister mine, which is the
most common-sense thing that you can do, except when brother Dom
speaks," said the incorrigible boy.

They had seated themselves on a bank while thus conversing, and from
their position could see over a considerable portion of the lagoon.
Suddenly Dominick pointed to an object a long way off, which was half
concealed by the shadow of an island.

"Does it not look like a canoe?" he asked eagerly.

"Can't make it out at all," said Otto, shading his eyes with his hand.

"The sun on the water dazzles one so," observed Pauline, "that it is
difficult to look steadily."

In a few moments the object which had drawn their attention sailed out
from under the shade of the island, and, breaking up into fragments,
rose into the air, proving itself to be a flock of large aquatic birds
which had been swimming in a line.

"Things are not what they seem," observed Pauline, rising and following
her brothers through a little thicket.

"What a pity!" exclaimed Otto; "I was in hopes it was a canoeful of
savages.  It would be such fun to have a real Friday to be our servant."

"More likely that our Friday would kill, cook, and eat us if he could,"
said Dominick, to the surprise of Otto, who gave it as his opinion that
savages never ate men, and asked if his brother really believed that
they did.

"Indeed I do.  We have it recorded by all the best authorities that
South Sea islanders are given to this horrible practice.  There can be
no doubt about it whatever, and the less we see of these fellows in our
present defenceless state the better."

"How little," said Pauline, "our dear father thought when he wrote for
us to go out to him in his ship, that we should be cast on an unknown
island, and the ship itself go to the bottom!"

"Little indeed, and as little did poor mother dream of such a fate,"
returned Dominick, "when she let us all go so readily, on the
understanding that we should give father no rest until we had got him to
give up business, quit Java for ever, and return home."

"Dear old mother!" said Pauline, "I wish--oh!  I wish so much that we
had not left her, even though it was to be for only a few months.  She
must be _so_ lonely, with no one to talk to--"

"You forget Pina."

"Forget--what?"

"The cat," returned Otto, unable to repress a smile, which rose in spite
of the ready tear that dimmed his eye at the mere mention of his mother.
"You know the cat is her great resource--a sort of safety-valve.
Sometimes, when I've been listening to her, lying on the rug at her feet
half asleep, I've heard her talk to that cat as if it really was a human
being, and tell it all about her little affairs and daily troubles and
worries in quite a confidential tone.  I've taken it into my head that
that's mother's way of thinking aloud--she thinks at the cat, for
company: and to do the brute justice, it does its best to accommodate
her.  I've seen it sit and stare at her by the half-hour at a time, and
give a little purr or a meaiow now and then as if it wanted to speak.
I'm quite sure it thinks, and wonders no doubt what idle, useless work
it is to click knitting-needles together by the hour."

"Dear me, Otto," said Pauline, with a laugh, "I had no idea that you
could think so much about anything."

"Think!" exclaimed the boy, indignantly; "d'you suppose that it's only
stern-browed, long-legged fellows like Dom there who can think?  Why, I
think, and think, sometimes, to such an extent that I nearly think
myself inside out!  But, Pina, you don't know half as much about
motherkin as I do, for when _you_ are with her she usually forgets
_herself_, I can see, and talks only about the things that interest
_you_; whereas, when there's nobody present but _me_, she counts me for
nothing, and lets me do pretty much what I like--because no doubt she
thinks I'll do that whether she lets me or not--but she's wrong, for I
love her far more than she thinks; and then it's when I'm quiet and she
forgets me, I fancy, or thinks I'm asleep, that she comes out strong at
the cat."

"Darling mother!" said Pauline, musingly.  "I can see her now, in my
mind, with her neat black cap and smooth braided hair, and gold
spectacles, as plain as if she were sitting before me."

"I'm sorry to destroy the vision, Pina, on my own account as well as
yours," observed Dominick, "but it behoves us now to look for a night's
lodging, for the sun is sinking fast, and it would not be pleasant to
lie down on the bare ground shelterless, fine though the climate is.
Come, we will return to the place where we landed, and search for a cave
or a bit of overhanging rock."

The best sleeping-place that they had up to that time discovered was
undoubtedly the grove in which they had found the graves of the
shipwrecked crew, but, as Otto truly remarked, it would probably result
in uncomfortable dreams if they were to go to sleep in a burying-ground,
alongside of a skeleton.

Accordingly they returned to the beach, and sought for some time among
the _debris_ of the boat for anything useful that might have been washed
up, but found nothing.  Then they went along-shore in the direction of
the wreck which had raised their hopes so high that day when first seen,
but nothing suitable was discovered until they rounded a low point of
rocks, when Pauline came to a sudden pause.

"Look! a golden cave!" she exclaimed, pointing eagerly to a grassy spot
which was canopied by feathery palms, and half enclosed by coral rocks,
where was a cavern into which the sinking sun streamed at the moment
with wonderful intensity.

Their home for that night obviously lay before them, but when they
entered it and sat down, their destitution became sadly apparent.  No
beds to spread, no food to prepare, nothing whatever to do but lie down
and sleep.

"No matter, we're neither hungry nor thirsty," said Dominick, with an
air of somewhat forced gaiety, "and our clothes are getting dry.  Come,
sister, you must be weary.  Lie down at the inner side of the cave, and
Otto and I, like faithful knights, will guard the entrance.  I--I wish,"
he added, in a graver tone, and with some hesitation, "that we had a
Bible, that we might read a verse or two before lying down."

"I can help you in that," said his sister, eagerly.  "I have a fair
memory, you know, and can repeat a good many verses."

Pauline repeated the twenty-third Psalm in a low, sweet voice.  When she
had finished, a sudden impulse induced Dominick, who had never prayed
aloud before, to utter a brief but fervent prayer and thanksgiving.
Then the three lay down in the cave, and in five minutes were sound
asleep.

Thus appropriately did these castaways begin their sojourn on a spot
which was destined to be their home for a long time to come.



CHAPTER THREE.

EXPLORATIONS AND DISCOVERIES.

As the sun had bathed the golden cave when our castaways went to sleep,
so it flooded their simple dwelling when they awoke.

"Then," exclaims the intelligent reader, "the sun must have risen in the
west!"

By no means, good reader.  Whatever man in his wisdom, or weakness, may
do or say, the great luminaries of day and night hold on the even tenor
of their way unchanged.  But youth is a wonderful compound of strength,
hope, vitality, carelessness, and free-and-easy oblivion, and, in the
unconscious exercise of the last capacity, Pauline and her brothers had
slept as they lay down, without the slightest motion, all through that
night, all through the gorgeous sunrise of the following morning, all
through the fervid noontide and the declining day, until the setting sun
again turned their resting-place into a cave of gold.

The effect upon their eyelids was such that they winked, and awoke with
a mighty yawn.  We speak advisedly.  There were not three separate
awakenings and three distinct yawns; no, the rousing of one caused the
rousing of the others in succession so rapidly that the yawns,
commencing with Pauline's treble, were prolonged, through Otto's tenor
down to Dominick's bass, in one stupendous monotone or slide, which the
last yawner terminated in a groan of contentment.  Nature, during the
past few days, had been doubly defrauded, and she, having now partially
repaid herself, allowed her captives to go free with restored vigour.
There was, however, enough of the debt still unpaid to induce a desire
in the captives to return of their own accord to the prison-house of
Oblivion, but the desire was frustrated by Otto, who, sitting up
suddenly and blinking at the sun with owlish gravity, exclaimed--

"Well, I never!  We've only slept five minutes!"

"The sun hasn't set _yet_!"

Dominick, replying with a powerful stretch and another yawn, also raised
himself on one elbow and gazed solemnly in front of him.  A gleam of
intelligence suddenly crossed his countenance.

"Why, boy, when we went to sleep the sun was what you may call six feet
above the horizon; now it is twelve feet if it is an inch, so that if it
be still setting, it must be setting upwards--a phenomenon of which the
records of astronomical research make no mention."

"But it _is_ setting?" retorted Otto, with a puzzled look, "for I never
heard of your astronomical searchers saying that they'd ever seen the
sun rise in the same place where it sets."

"True, Otto, and the conclusion I am forced to is that we have slept
right on from sunset to sunset."

"So, then, we've lost a day," murmured Pauline, who in an attitude of
helpless repose, had been winking with a languid expression at the
luminous subject of discussion.

"Good morning, Pina," said Dominick.

"Good evening, you mean," interrupted his brother.  "Well, good evening.
It matters little which; how have you slept?"

"Soundly--oh, so soundly that I don't want to move."

"Well, then, don't move; I'll rise and get you some breakfast."

"Supper," interposed Otto.

"Supper be it; it matters not.--But don't say we've lost a day, sister
mine.  As regards time, indeed, we have; but in strength I feel that I
have gained a week or more."

"Does any one know," said Otto, gazing with a perplexed expression at
the sky--for he had lain back again with his hands under his head--"does
any one know what day it was when we landed?"

"Thursday, I think," said Dominick.

"Oh no," exclaimed Pauline; "surely it was Wednesday or Tuesday; but the
anxiety and confusion during the wreck, and our terrible sufferings
afterwards in the little boat, have quite confused my mind on that
point."

"Well, now, here's a pretty state of things," continued Otto, sleepily;
"we've lost one day, an' we don't agree about three others, and Dom says
he's gained a week! how are we ever to find out when Sunday comes, I
should like to know?  There's a puzzler--a reg'lar--puzzl'--puz--"

A soft snore told that "tired Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep," had
again taken the little fellow captive, and prolonged silence on the part
of the other two proved them to have gone into similar captivity.
Nature had not recovered her debt in full.  She was in an exacting mood,
and held them fast during the whole of another night.  Then she set them
finally free at sunrise on the following day, when the soft yellow light
streamed on surrounding land and sea, converting their sleeping-place
into a silver cave by contrast.

There was no languid or yawny awakening on this occasion.  Dominick sat
up the instant his eyes opened, then sprang to his feet, and ran out of
the cave.  He was followed immediately by Otto and Pauline, the former
declaring with emphasis that he felt himself to be a "new man."

"Yes, Richard's himself again," said Dominick, as he stretched himself
with the energy of one who rejoices in his strength.  "Now, Pina, we've
got a busy day before us.  We must find out what our islet contains in
the way of food first, for I am ravenously hungry, and then examine its
other resources.  It is very beautiful.  One glance suffices to tell us
that.  And isn't it pleasant to think that it is all our own?"

"`The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof,'" said his sister,
softly.

The youth's gaiety changed into a deeper and nobler feeling.  He looked
earnestly at Pauline for a few seconds.

"Right, Pina, right," he said.  "To tell you the truth, I was
half-ashamed of my feelings that time when I broke into involuntary
prayer and thanksgiving.  I'm ashamed now of having been ashamed.  Come,
sister, you shall read the Word of God from memory, and I will pray
every morning and evening as long as we shall dwell here together."

That day they wandered about their islet with more of gaiety and
light-heartedness than they would have experienced had they neglected,
first, to give honour to God, who not only gives us all things richly to
enjoy, but also the very capacity for enjoyment.

But no joy of earth is unmingled.  The exploration did not result in
unmitigated satisfaction, as we shall see.

Their first great object, of course, was breakfast.

"I can't ask you what you'll have, Pina.  Our only dish, at least this
morning," said Dominick, glancing upwards, "is--"

"Cocoa-nuts," put in Otto.

Otto was rather fond of "putting in" his word, or, as Dominick expressed
it, "his oar."  He was somewhat pert by nature, and not at that time
greatly modified by art.

"Just so, lad," returned his brother; "and as you have a considerable
spice of the monkey in you, be good enough to climb up one of these
palms, and send down a few nuts."

To do Otto justice, he was quite as obliging as he was pert; but when he
stood at the foot of the tall palm-tree and looked up at its thick stem,
he hesitated.

"D'you know, Dom," he said, "it seems to me rather easier to talk about
than to do?"

"You are not the first who has found that out," returned his brother,
with a laugh.  "Now, don't you know how the South Sea islanders get up
the palm-trees?"

"No; never heard how."

"Why, I thought your great authority Robinson Crusoe had told you that."

"Don't think he ever referred to it.  Friday may have known how, but if
he did, he kept his knowledge to himself."

"I wish you two would discuss the literature of that subject some other
time," said Pauline.  "I'm almost sinking for want of food.  Do be
quick, please."

Thus urged, Dominick at once took off his neckcloth and showed his
brother how, by tying his feet together with it at a sufficient distance
apart, so as to permit of getting a foot on each side of the tree, the
kerchief would catch on the rough bark, and so form a purchase by which
he could force himself up step by step, as it were, while grasping the
stem with arms and knees.

Otto was an apt scholar in most things, especially in those that
required activity of body.  He soon climbed the tree, and plucked and
threw down half a dozen cocoa-nuts.  But when these had been procured,
there still remained a difficulty, for the tough outer husk of the nuts,
nearly two inches thick, could not easily be cut through with a
clasp-knife so as to reach that kernel, or nut, which is ordinarily
presented to English eyes in fruit-shops.

"We have no axe, so must adopt the only remaining method," said
Dominick.

Laying a nut on a flat rock, he seized a stone about twice the size of
his own head, and, heaving it aloft, brought it down with all his force
on the nut, which was considerably crushed and broken by the blow.  With
perseverance and the vigorous use of a clasp-knife he at last reached
the interior.  Thereafter, on cocoa-nut meat and cocoa-nut milk, with a
draught from a pool in the thicket they partook of their first breakfast
on the reef.

"Now, our first duty is to bury the skeleton," said Dominick, when the
meal was concluded; "our next to examine the land; and our last to visit
the wreck.  I think we shall be able to do all this in one day."

Like many, perhaps we may say most, of man's estimates, Dominick's
calculation was short of the mark, for the reef turned out to be
considerably larger than they had at first supposed.  It must be
remembered that they had, up to that time, seen it only from the low
level of the sea, and from that point of view it appeared to be a mere
sandbank with a slight elevation in the centre, which was clothed with
vegetation.  But when the highest point of this elevation was gained,
they discovered that it had hidden from their view not only a
considerable stretch of low land which lay behind, but an extensive
continuation of the lagoon, or salt-water lake, in which lay a multitude
of smaller islets of varying shapes, some mere banks of sand, others
with patches of vegetation in their centres, and a few with several
cocoa-nut palms on them, the nucleus, probably, of future palm groves.
A large island formed the background to this lovely picture, and the
irregular coral reef guarded the whole from the violence of the ocean.
In some places this reef rose to a considerable height above the
sea-level.  In others, it was so little above it that each falling
breaker almost buried it in foam; but everywhere it was a sufficient
protection to the lagoon, which lay calm and placid within, encircled by
its snowy fringe,--the result of the watery war outside.  In one spot
there was a deep entrance into this beautiful haven of peace, and that
chanced to be close to the golden cave, and was about fifty yards wide.
At the extremity of the reef, on the other side of this opening, lay
another elevated spot, similar to their own, though smaller, and with
only a few palms in the centre of it.  From the sea this eminence had
appeared to be a continuation of the other, and it was only when they
landed that the Rigondas discovered the separation caused by the channel
leading into the lagoon.

"Fairyland!" exclaimed Pauline, who could scarcely contain herself with
delight at the marvellous scene of beauty that had so unexpectedly burst
upon their view.

"Rather a noisy and bustling fairyland too," said Otto, referring to the
numerous sea-birds that inquisitively came to look at them, as well as
to the other waterfowl that went about from isle to isle on whistling
wings.

The boy spoke jestingly, but it was clear from his heaving chest,
partially-open mouth, and glittering eyes, that his little heart was
stirred to an unwonted depth of emotion.

"Alas! that we have lost our boat," exclaimed Dominick.

To this Otto replied by expressing an earnest wish that he were able to
swim as well as a South Sea islander, for in that case he would launch
forth and spend the remainder of that day in visiting all the islands.

"Yes; and wouldn't it be charming," responded his brother, "to pay your
aquatic visits in such pleasant company as that?"

He pointed to an object, which was visible at no great distance, moving
about on the surface of the glassy sea with great activity.

"What creature is that?" asked Pauline.

"It is not a creature, Pina, only part of a creature."

"You don't mean to say it's a shark!" cried Otto, with a frown.

"Indeed it is--the back-fin of one at least--and he must have heard you,
for he seems impatient to join you in your little trip to the islands."

"I'll put it off to some future day, Dom.  But isn't it a pity that such
pretty places should be spoiled by such greedy and cruel monsters?"

"And yet they _must_ have been made for some good purpose," suggested
Pauline.

"I rather suspect," said Dominick, "that if game and fish only knew who
shoot and catch them, and afterwards eat them, they might be inclined to
call man greedy and cruel."

"But we can't help that Dom.  We must live, you know."

"So says or thinks the shark, no doubt, when he swallows a man."

While the abstruse question, to which the shark had thus given rise, was
being further discussed, the explorers returned to the thicket, where
they buried the skeleton beside the other graves.  A close search was
then made for any object that might identify the unfortunates or afford
some clue to their history, but nothing of the sort was found.

"Strange," muttered Dominick, on leaving the spot after completing their
task.  "One would have expected that, with a wrecked ship to fall back
upon, they would have left behind them evidences of some sort--
implements, or books, or empty beef-casks,--but there is literally
nothing."

"Perhaps," suggested Pauline, "the men did not belong to this wreck.
They may have landed as we have done out of a small boat, and the vessel
we now see may have been driven here after they were dead."

"True, Pina, it may have been so.  However, the matter must remain a
mystery for the present.  Meanwhile we will go and explore the low land
behind our reef."

"Isn't it strange, Dom, that we should become landed proprietors in this
fashion?" remarked Otto, as they walked along.

"And that, too," added Pauline, "at a time when our hopes were lowest
and our case most desperate."

"'Tis a magnificent estate," said Dominick, "of which we will constitute
Pina the Queen, myself the Prime Minister, and Otto the army."

To this Otto objected that, as it was the business of an army to defend
the people and keep them in order, there was no use for an army, seeing
that there were no people; but Dominick replied that a queen and prime
minister formed part of a people, and that an army was required to
defend _them_.

"To keep them in order, you should say," retorted Otto, "for that will
clearly be my chief duty if I accept the situation.  Well, I've no
objection, on the whole, to be an army; but, please, remember that in
time of peace an army is expected to do no laborious work, and that at
all times it is clothed and fed by the State.  Now, Queen Pina the
First, what would your Majesty wish the army to do?"

"Go forth and subdue the land," replied Pina the First, promptly, with
quite a regal sweep of her hand towards the low ground and the lagoon
beyond.

"Will your Majesty deign to instruct me how I am to begin?"

The Queen hesitated.  She was rather puzzled, as rulers sometimes are
when required to tackle details.

"May it please your Majesty," said Dominick, coming to the rescue like a
true premier, "it is the chief duty of a prime minister to advise his
sovereign.  If it be your pleasure, I would recommend that the army
should be sent down into yonder clump of reeds to ascertain what revenue
is to be derived from the inhabitants thereof in the shape of wildfowl,
eggs, etcetera, while I visit the shore of the lagoon to ascertain the
prospects of supply, in the form of shellfish, from that quarter.
Meanwhile, I would further advise your Majesty to sit down on this coral
throne, and enjoy the contemplation of your kingdom till we return."

With a dignified bow and a little laugh Queen Pina assented, and the
Prime Minister went off to the shore, while the army defiled towards the
marsh.

Left alone, Pina the First soon forgot her royal condition in
contemplation of the lovely prospect before her.  As she gazed over the
sand, and across the lagoon, and out on the gleaming sea, her thoughts
assumed the wings of the morning and flew away over the mighty ocean to
old England.  Sadness filled her heart, and tears her eyes, as she
thought of a mild little mother who had, since the departure of her
three children, been reduced for companionship to a huge household cat,
and who would ere long be wondering why letters were so long of coming
from the dear ones who had left her.

Pauline had a vivid imagination and great power of mental abstraction.
She summoned up the image of the little mother so successfully that she
felt as if she actually saw her knitting her socks, sadly, with her head
on one side.  She even heard her address the cat (she was accustomed to
address the cat when alone), and express a hope that in the course of a
month or six weeks more she might expect to have news of the absent
ones.  And Pauline almost saw the household cat, which occupied its
usual place on the table at the old lady's elbow, blink its eyes with
sympathy--or indifference, she could not be quite sure which.  Then
Pauline's wayward thoughts took a sudden flight to the island of Java,
in the China seas, where she beheld a bald little old gentleman--a
merchant and a shipowner--who was also her father, and who sat reading a
newspaper in his office, and was wondering why his good ship _Flying
Fish_--which was bringing his children to him besides a quantity of
other goods--did not make its appearance, and she plainly saw the look
of disappointment as he threw the paper down, exclaiming, "Odd, very
odd, but she _must_ turn up soon."

Pauline saw nothing more after that for some time, because her eyes were
blinded with tears.

Then Queen Pina cheered up again, for she thought that surely a ship
would soon pass the island and take them off.  As this last thought
became more definite (for Pina was very young and hopeful) her eyes
dried and permitted her to observe her kingdom more clearly.

The Prime Minister, she observed, was still busy on the shore, and, from
his frequently stooping to pick up something, she argued that the
affairs of State in that quarter were prospering.

Presently, from the midst of a mass of reeds not far off, there arose a
shout, easily recognisable as that of the army, which was followed by
cries of a stupendous, yet extremely familiar, kind.  Pauline started up
in considerable haste, and a moment later beheld the chief authors of
the noise burst from the clump of reeds in the form of a large sow and a
troop of little pigs.

They were evidently in a state of wild alarm, for, besides squealing
with a degree of intensity possible only to pigs, they ran in such
furious haste that they stumbled over sticks and stones in reckless
confusion, scrambling to their feet again in such a hurry as to ensure
repeated falls, and, generally, twirling themselves and their tails in a
manner that was consistent with nothing short of raving madness.

Little wonder that those creatures acted thus, for, close on their
heels, gasping and glaring, the army burst forth and fell on them--
literally fell on one of them, for Otto in his anxiety to catch the
hindmost pig, a remarkably small but active animal, tripped over a root
just as he was about to lay hold of its little tail, and fell on the top
of it with fearful violence.  The mechanical pressure, combining with
the creature's spiritual efforts, produced a sudden yell that threw the
cries of its companions quite into the shade.  It might have sufficed to
blow Otto into the air.  Indeed, it seemed as if some such result
actually followed, for, after turning a complete somersault, the boy was
on his feet again as if by magic; but so also was the little pig, which,
being thus forcibly separated from its family, turned aside and made for
the main thicket.  To cut off its retreat, the army made a sudden flank
movement, headed the enemy, grasped it by the curly tail, and sought to
lift it into his arms, but the curly tail straightened out, and, being
exceedingly thin as well as taper, slipped from his hand.  Need we say
that the little pig came to the ground with a remonstrative squeal?  It
also rolled over.  Otto, unable to check himself, flew past.  The pig
rose, diverged, and resumed its headlong flight.  Otto doubled, came
close up again, "stooped to conquer," and was on the point of coming off
victorious, when, with a final shriek of mingled rage and joy, the enemy
rushed through a hole under a prickly bush, while the discomfited army
plunged headlong into the same, and stuck fast.

Meanwhile the rest of the porcine family had found refuge in an almost
impenetrable part of the thicket.

"Pork, your Majesty," said Otto, on returning from the field of battle,
"may at all events be counted as one of the products of your dominions."

"Truly it would seem so," responded the Queen, with a laugh;
"nevertheless there does not appear to be much hope of its forming a
source of supply to the royal larder."

"Time will show," said Dominick, coming up at the moment; "and see, here
are several kinds of shellfish, which will form a pleasant addition to
our fare."

"Ay, and I saw eggs among the reeds," said Otto, "some of which--"

"Not pigs' eggs, surely?" interrupted Dominick.

"They may be so," retorted Otto; "the fact that English pigs don't lay
eggs, is no argument against South Sea pigs doing so, if they choose.
But, as I was about to say, your Majesty, when the Premier interrupted
me--some of these eggs I gathered, and would have presented them as an
offering from the army, if I had not fallen and crushed them beyond
repair."

In corroboration of what he said, Otto opened his coat pocket and
revealed in its depths a mass of yellow substance, and broken shells.

"Horrible!" exclaimed Pauline; "how will you ever get it cleaned?"

"By turning it inside out--thus, most gracious Queen."

He reversed the pocket as he spoke, allowing the yellow compound to drip
on the ground, and thereafter wiped it with grass.

"I wouldn't have minded this loss so much," he continued, "if I had not
lost that little pig.  But I shall know him again when I see him, and
you may depend on it that he is destined ere long to be turned into pork
chops."

"Well, then, on the strength of that hope we will continue the survey of
our possessions," said Dominick, leading the party still further into
the low grounds.

For some time the trio wandered about without making any further
discoveries of importance until they came to a thicket, somewhat similar
to the one near which they had been cast on shore, but much smaller.  On
entering it they were startled by a loud cackling noise, accompanied by
the whirring of wings.

"Sounds marvellously like domestic fowls," said Dominick, as he pushed
forward.  And such it turned out to be, for, on reaching an open glade
in the thicket, they beheld a large flock of hens running on ahead of
them, with a splendid cock bringing up the rear, which turned
occasionally to cast an indignant look at the intruders.

"That accounts for your eggs, Otto," observed Pauline.

"Yes, and here are more of them," said the boy, pointing to a nest with
half a dozen eggs in it, which he immediately proceeded to gather.

"It is quite evident to me," remarked Dominick, as they continued to
advance, "that both the pigs and fowls must have been landed from the
wreck that lies on the shore, and that, after the death of the poor
fellows who escaped the sea, they went wild.  Probably they have
multiplied, and we may find the land well stocked."

"I hope so.  Perhaps we may find some more traces of the shipwrecked
crew," suggested Pauline.

Their expectations were not disappointed, for, on returning in the
evening from their tour of exploration, they came on a partially cleared
place in the thicket beside the golden cave, which had evidently been
used as a garden.  In the midst of a mass of luxuriant undergrowth,
which almost smothered them, vegetables of various kinds were found
growing--among others the sweet potato.

Gathering some of these, Otto declared joyfully that he meant to have a
royal feast that night, but a difficulty which none of them had thought
of had to be faced and overcome before that feast could be enjoyed.  It
was just as they arrived at the golden cave that this difficulty
presented itself to their minds.

"Dom," said Otto, with a solemn look, "how are we to make a fire?"

"By kindling it, of course."

"Yes, but, you stupid Premier, where are we to find a light?"

"To tell you the truth, my boy," returned Dominick, "I never thought of
that till this moment, and I can't very well see my way out of the
difficulty."

Pauline, to whom the brothers now looked, shook her head.  Never before,
she said, had she occasion to trouble her brain about a light.  When she
wanted one in England, all she had to do was to call for one, or strike
a match.  What was to be done in their present circumstances she had not
the smallest conception.

"I'll tell you what," said Otto, after several suggestions had been made
and rejected, "this is how we'll do it.  We will gather a lot of dry
grass and dead sticks and build them up into a pile with logs around it,
then Pina will sit down and gaze steadily at the heart of the pile for
some minutes with her great, brown, sparkling eyes she should be able to
kindle a flame in the heart of almost anything in five minutes--or, say
ten, at the outside, eh?"

"I should think," retorted the Queen, "that your fiery spirit or
flashing wit might accomplish the feat in a shorter time."

"It seems to me," remarked Dominick, who had been thinking too hard to
pay much regard to these pleasantries, "that if we live long here we
shall have to begin life over again--not our own lives, exactly, but the
world's life.  We shall have to invent everything anew for ourselves;
discover new methods of performing old familiar work, and, generally,
exercise our ingenuity to the uttermost."

"That may be quite true, you philosophic Premier," returned Otto, "but
it does not light our fire, or roast that old hen which you brought down
with a stone so cleverly to-day.  Come, now, let us exercise our
ingenuity a little more to the purpose, if possible."

"If we had only some tinder," said Dominick, "we could find flint, I
dare say, or some hard kind of stone from which fire could be struck
with the back of a clasp-knife, but I have seen nothing like tinder
to-day.  I've heard that burnt rag makes capital tinder.  If so, a bit
of Pina's dress might do, but we can't burn it without fire."

For a considerable time the trio sought to devise some means of
procuring fire, but without success, and they were at last fain to
content themselves with another cold supper of cocoa-nut and water,
after which, being rather tired, they went to rest as on the previous
night.



CHAPTER FOUR.

DIFFICULTIES MET AND OVERCOME.

The next day Pauline and her brothers visited the wreck, and here new
difficulties met them, for although the vessel lay hard and fast on the
rocks, there was a belt of water between it and the main shore, which
was not only broad, but deep.

"I can easily swim it," said Dominick, beginning to pull off his coat.

"Dom," said Otto, solemnly, "sharks!"

"That's true, my boy, I won't risk it."

He put his coat on again, and turned to look for some drift-wood with
which to make a raft.

"There's sure to be some lying about, you know," he said, "for a wreck
could hardly take place without something or other in the way of spars
or wreckage being washed ashore."

"But don't you think," suggested Otto, "that the men whose graves we
have found may have used it all up?"

Otto was right.  Not a scrap of timber or cordage of any kind was to be
found after a most diligent search, and they were about to give it up in
despair, when Pauline remembered the bay where they had been cast
ashore, and which we have described as being filled with wreckage.

In truth, this bay and the reef with its group of islands lay right in
the track of one of those great ocean currents which, as the reader
probably knows, are caused by the constant circulation of all the waters
of the sea between the equator and the poles.  This grand and continuous
flow is caused by difference of temperature and density in sea-water at
different places.  At the equator the water is warm, at the poles it is
cold.  This alone would suffice to cause circulation--somewhat as water
circulates in a boiling pot--but other active agents are at work.  The
Arctic and Antarctic snows freshen the sea-water as well as cool it,
while equatorial heat evaporates as well as warms it, and thus leaves a
superabundance of salt and lime behind.  The grand ocean current thus
caused is broken up into smaller streams, and the courses of these are
fixed by the conformation of land--just as a river's flow is turned
right or left, and sometimes backward in eddies, by the form of its
banks and bottom.  Trade winds, and the earth's motion on its axis,
still further modify the streams, both as to direction and force.

It was one of those currents, then, which flowed past the reef and
sometimes cast vessels and wreckage on its shores.

Hastening to the bay, they accordingly found enough of broken spars and
planks, to have made half a dozen rafts, twice the size of that required
to go off with to the wreck; so to work they went at once with eager
enthusiasm.

"Hold on!" shouted Dominick, after a few spars had been collected and
dragged up on the sand.

Otto and Pauline paused in their labour, and looked anxiously at their
brother, for his face wore a perplexed look.

"We have forgotten that it is impossible to shove a raft of any size,
big or little, through these huge breakers, so as to get it round the
point, to where the wreck lies."

"Well, then," cried Otto, with the ready assurance of ignorance, "we'll
just drag it overland to the wreck, and launch it there."

"But, Otto, you have not taken into consideration the fact that our raft
must be so large that, when finished, the dragging of it over rough
ground would require three or four horses instead of three human
beings."

"Well, then," returned the boy, "we'll make it small, just big enough to
carry one person, and then we'll be able to drag it overland, and can go
off to the wreck one at a time."

"Now, just think, brainless one," retorted Dominick; "suppose that I
were to go off first to the wreck, what then?"

"Why, then _I_ would go off next of course, and then Pina would follow,
and so we'd all get on board one at a time, and explore it together."

"Yes; but what would you come off on?"

"The raft, to be sure."

"But the raft, I have supposed, is with me at the wreck.  It won't go
back to the shore of its own accord to fetch you, and we have no ropes
with which to haul it to and fro."

"Then there's nothing for it," said Otto, after a few moments' thought,
"but to make it big enough for two, or carry over the broken spars and
planks piecemeal, and put them together opposite the wreck; so, come
along."

This latter plan being adopted, they set to work with energy.  To their
joy they found not only that a good deal of cordage--somewhat worn,
indeed, but still serviceable--was mingled with the wreckage, but that
many large protruding bolts and rusty nails formed convenient holdfasts,
which facilitated the building up and fastening together of the parts.

At last, after considerable labour, the raft was got ready early in the
afternoon, and the brothers, embarking on it with two long poles, pushed
off to the wreck while Pauline sat on the shore and watched them.

It was an anxious moment when they drew near enough to observe the
vessel more distinctly, for it was just possible that they might find in
her hold a supply of food and things they stood so much in need of,
while, on the other hand, there was a strong probability that everything
had been washed out of her long ago, or that her former crew had taken
out all that was worth removing.

"What if we should find casks of biscuits and barrels of pork, to say
nothing of tea and sugar, and such like?" murmured the sanguine Otto, as
they poled slowly out.

"And what if we should find nothing at all?" said Dominick.

"O Dom!" exclaimed Otto, in a voice so despairing that his companion
turned to look at him in surprise.  "Look! see! the ship has been on
fire!  It can only be the mere skeleton that is left."

Dominick turned quickly, and saw that his brother had reason for this
remark.  They had by that time approached so near to the wreck that the
charred condition of part of her bulwarks, and specially of her lower
spars, became obvious; and when, a few minutes later, they stood on the
deck, the scene that presented itself was one of black desolation.
Evidently the ill-fated vessel had been enveloped in flames, for
everything on board was charred, and it was almost certain that her crew
had run her on the rocks as the only method of escaping, her boats
having been totally destroyed, as was apparent from the small portions
of them that still hung from the davits.

"Nothing left!" said Otto.  "I think that Robinson Crusoe himself would
have given way to despair if _his_ wreck had been anything like this.  I
wonder that even this much of it has been left above water after fire
had got hold of it."

"Perhaps the hull sank after the first crash on the rocks, and put out
the fire," suggested Dominick, "and then subsequent gales may have
driven her higher up.  Even now her stern lies pretty deep, and
everything in her hold has been washed away."

There could be no doubt as to the latter point, for the deck had been
blown up, probably by gunpowder, near the main-hatch, leaving a great
hole, through which the hold could be seen almost as far as the bulkhead
of the forecastle.

Hastening forward to the hatchway of this part of the vessel, in the
feeble hope that they might still find something that would be of use,
they descended quickly, but the first glance round quenched such a hope,
for the fire had done its work there effectually, and, besides, there
were obvious indications that, what the fire had spared, her crew had
carried away.  The only things left of any value were the charred
remnants of the hammocks and bedding which had belonged to the sailors.

"Hurrah!" shouted Otto, with a sudden burst of joy, as he leaped forward
and dragged out a quantity of the bedding; "here's what'll make fire at
last!  You said, Dom, that burnt rag was capital tinder.  Well, here we
have burnt sheets enough to last us for years to come!"

"That's true," returned Dominick, laughing at his brother's enthusiasm;
"let's go aft and see if we can stumble on something more."

But the examination of the after part of the vessel yielded no fruit.
As we have said, that part was sunk deeply, so that only the cabin
skylight was above water, and, although they both gazed intently down
through the water with which the cabin was filled, they could see
nothing whatever.  With a boat-hook which they found jammed in the port
bulwarks, they poked and groped about for a considerable time, but
hooked nothing, and were finally obliged to return empty-handed to the
anxious Pauline.

Otto did not neglect, however, to carry off a pocketful of
burnt-sheeting, by means of which, with flint and steel, they were
enabled that night to eat their supper by the blaze of a cheering fire.
The human heart when young, does not quickly or easily give way to
despondency.  Although the Rigondas had thus been cast on an island in
the equatorial seas, and continued week after week to dwell there,
living on wild fruits and eggs, and such animals and birds as they
managed to snare, with no better shelter than a rocky cavern, and with
little prospect of a speedy release, they did not by any means mourn
over their lot.

"You see," remarked Otto, one evening when his sister wondered, with a
sigh, whether their mother had yet begun to feel very anxious about
them, "you see, she could not have expected to hear much before this
time, for the voyage to Eastern seas is always a long one, and it is
well known that vessels often get blown far out of their courses by
monsoons, and simoons, and baboons, and such like southern hurricanes,
so motherkins won't begin to grow anxious, I hope, for a long time yet,
and it's likely that before she becomes _very_ uneasy about us, some
ship or other will pass close enough to see our signals and take us off
so--"

"By the way," interrupted Dominick, "have you tried to climb our
signal-tree, as you said you would do, to replace the flag that was
blown away by last night's gale?"

"Of course not.  There's no hurry, Dom," answered Otto, who, if truth
must be told, was not very anxious to escape too soon from his present
romantic position, and thought that it would be time enough to attract
the attention of any passing vessel when they grew tired of their
solitude.  "Besides," he continued, with that tendency to self-defence
which is so natural to fallen humanity, "I'm not a squirrel to run up
the straight stem of a branchless tree, fifty feet high or more."

"No, my boy, you're not a squirrel, but, as I have often told you, you
are a monkey--at least, monkey enough to accomplish your ends when you
have a mind to."

"Now, really you are too hard," returned Otto, who was busily employed
as he spoke in boring a hole through a cocoa-nut to get at the milk,
"you know very well that the branch of the neighbouring tree by which we
managed to reach the branches of the signal-tree has been blown away, so
that the thing is impossible, for the stem is far too big to be climbed
in the same way as I get up the cocoa-nut trees."

"That has nothing to do with the question," retorted Dominick, "you
_said_ you would try."

Otto looked with an injured expression at his sister and asked what she
thought of a man being required to attempt impossibilities.

"Not a man--a monkey," interjected his brother.

"Whether man or monkey," said Pauline, in her quiet but decided way, "if
you promised to attempt the thing, you are bound to try."

"Well, then, I will try, and here, I drink success to the trial."  Otto
applied the cocoa-nut to his lips, and took a long pull.  "Come along,
now, the sooner I prove the impossibility the better."

Rising at once, with an injured expression, the boy led the way towards
a little eminence close at hand, on the top of which grew a few trees of
various kinds, the tallest of these being the signal-tree, to which
Dominick had fixed one of the half-burnt pieces of sheeting, brought
from the wreck.  The stem was perfectly straight and seemingly smooth,
and as they stood at its foot gazing up to the fluttering little piece
of rag that still adhered to it, the impossibility of the ascent became
indeed very obvious.

"Now, sir, are you convinced?" said Otto.

"No, sir, I am not convinced," returned Dominick.

"You said you would try."

Without another word Otto grasped the stem of the tree with arms and
legs, and did his best to ascend it.  He had, in truth, so much of the
monkey in him, and was so wiry and tough, that he succeeded in getting
up full twelve or fourteen feet before being utterly exhausted.  At that
point, however, he stuck, but instead of slipping down as he had
intended, and again requesting to know whether his brother was
convinced, he uttered a sharp cry, and shouted--

"Oh!  I say, Dom, what am I to do?"

"Why, slip down, of course."

"But I can't.  The bark seems to be made of needle-joints, all sticking
upwards.  If I try to slip, my trousers vill remain behind, and--and--I
can't hold on much longer!"

"Let go then, and drop," said Dominick, stepping close to the tree.

"Oh no, don't!" cried Pauline, with a little shriek; "if you do you'll--
you'll--"

"Bust!  Yes, I know I shall," shouted Otto, in despair.

"No fear," cried Dominick, holding out his arms, "let go, I'll cat--"

He was stopped abruptly by receiving a shock from his little brother
which sent him sprawling on his back.  He sprang up, however, with a
gasp.

"Why, boy, I had no idea you were so heavy," he exclaimed, laughing.

"Now, don't you go boasting in future, you prime minister, that I can't
knock you down," said Otto, as he gathered himself up.  "But I say,
you're not hurt, are you?" he added, with a look of concern, while
Pauline seized one of Dominick's hands and echoed the question.

"Not in the least--only a little wind knocked out of me.  Moreover, I'm
not yet convinced that the ascent of that tree is an impossibility."

"You'll have to do it yourself, then," said Otto; "and let me warn you
beforehand that, though I'm very grateful to you, I won't stand under to
catch you."

"Was it not you who said the other night at supper that whatever a
fellow resolved to do he could accomplish, and added that, where there's
a will, there's a way?"

"I rather think it was you, Dom, who gave expression to those boastful
sentiments."

"It may be so.  At all events I hold them.  Come, now, lend a hand and
help me.  The work will take some time, as we have no other implements
than our gully-knives, but we'll manage it somehow."

"Can I not help you?" asked Pauline.

"Of course you can.  Sit down on the bank here, and I'll give you
something to do presently."

Dominick went, as he spoke, to a small tree, the bark of which was long,
tough, and stringy.  Cutting off a quantity of this, he took it to his
sister, and showed her how to twist some of it into stout cordage.
Leaving her busily at work on this, he went down to the nearest bamboo
thicket and cut a stout cane.  It took some time to cut, for the bamboo
was hard and the knife small for such work.  From the end of the cane he
cut off a piece about a foot in length.

"Now, Otto, my boy, you split that into four pieces, and sharpen the end
of each piece, while I cut off another foot of the bamboo."

"But what are you going to do with these bits of stick?" asked Otto, as
he went to work with a will.

"You shall see.  No use in wasting time with explanations just now.  I
read of the plan in a book of travels.  There's nothing like a good book
of travels to put one up to numerous dodges."

"I'm not so sure o' that," objected the boy.  "I have read _Robinson
Crusoe_ over and over, and over again, and I don't recollect reading of
his having made use of pegs to climb trees with."

"Your memory may be at fault, perhaps.  Besides, Robinson's is not the
only book of travels in the world," returned Dominick, as he hacked away
at the stout bamboo.

"No; but it is certainly the best," returned Otto, with enthusiasm, "and
I mean to imitate its hero."

"Don't do that, my boy," said Dominick; "whatever you do, don't imitate.
Act well the part allotted to you, whatever it may be, according to the
promptings of your own particular nature; but don't imitate."

"Humph!  I won't be guided by your wise notions, Mr Premier.  All I
know is, that I wish my clothes would wear out faster, so that I might
dress myself in skins of some sort.  I would have made an umbrella by
this time, but it never seems to rain in this country."

"Ha!  Wait till the rainy season comes round, and you'll have more than
enough of it.  Come, we've got enough of pegs to begin with.  Go into
the thicket now; cut some of the longest bamboos you can find, and bring
them to me; six or eight will do--slender ones, about twice the
thickness of my thumb at the ground."

While Otto was engaged in obeying this order, his brother returned to
the signal-tree.

"Well done, Pina," he said; "you've made some capital cordage."

"What are you going to do now, brother?"

"You shall see," said Dominick, picking up a heavy stone to use as a
hammer, with which he drove one of the hard, sharp pegs into the tree,
at about three feet from the ground.  We have said the peg was a foot
long.  As he fixed it in the tree about three inches deep, nine inches
of it projected.  On this he placed his foot and raised himself to test
its strength.  It bore his weight well.  Above this first peg he fixed a
second, three feet or so higher, and then a third about level with his
face.

"Ah!  I see," exclaimed Otto, coming up at that moment with several long
bamboos.  "But, man, don't you see that if one of these pegs should give
way while you're driving those above it, down you come by the run, and,
if you should be high up at the time, death will be probable--lameness
for life, certain."

Dominick did not condescend to answer this remark, but, taking one of
the bamboos, stood it up close to the tree, not touching, but a few
inches from the trunk, and bound it firmly with the cord to the three
pegs.  Thus he had the first three rounds or rungs of an upright ladder,
one side of which was the tree, the other the bamboo.  Mounting the
second of these rungs he drove in a fourth peg, and fastened the bamboo
to it in the same way, and then, taking another step, he fixed a fifth
peg.  Thus, step by step, he mounted till he had reached between fifteen
and twenty feet from the ground, where the upright bamboo becoming too
slender, another was called for and handed up by Otto.  This was lashed
to the first bamboo, as well as to three of the highest pegs, and the
operation was continued.  When the thin part of the second long bamboo
was reached, a third was added; and so the work progressed until the
ladder was completed, and the lower branches of the tree were gained.

Long before that point, however, Otto begged to be allowed to continue
and finish the work, which his brother agreed to, and, finally, the
signal flag was renewed, by the greater part of an old hammock being
lashed to the top of the tree.

But weeks and months passed away, and the flag continued to fly without
attracting the attention of any one more important, or more powerful to
deliver them, than the albatross and the wild sea-mew.

During this period the ingenuity and inventive powers of the party were
taxed severely, for, being utterly destitute of tools of any kind, with
the exception of the gully-knives before mentioned, they found it
extremely difficult to fashion any sort of implement.

"If we had only an axe or a saw," said Otto one morning, with a groan of
despair, "what a difference it would make."

"Isn't there a proverb," said Pauline, who at the time was busy making
cordage while Otto was breaking sticks for the fire, "which says that we
never know our mercies till we lose them?"

"Perhaps there is," said Otto, "and if there isn't, I don't care.  I
don't like proverbs, they always tell you in an owlishly wise sort o'
way what you know only too well, at a time when you'd rather not know it
if possible.  Now, if we only had an axe--ever so small--I would be able
to fell trees and cut 'em up into big logs, instead of spending hours
every day searching for dead branches and breaking them across my knee.
It's not a pleasant branch of our business, I can tell you."

"But you have the variety of hunting," said his sister, "and that, you
know, is an agreeable as well as useful branch."

"Humph!  It's not so agreeable as I used to think it would be, when one
has to run after creatures that run faster than one's-self, and one is
obliged to use wooden spears, and slings, instead of guns.  By the way,
what a surprising, I may say awful, effect a well-slung stone has on the
side of a little pig!  I came upon a herd yesterday in the cane-brake,
and, before they could get away, I slung a big stone at them, which
caught the smallest of the squeakers fair in the side.  The sudden
squeal that followed the slap was so intense, that I thought the life
had gone out of the creature in one agonising gush; but it hadn't, so I
slung another stone, which took it in the head and dropt it."

"Poor thing!  I wonder how you can be so cruel."

"Cruel!" exclaimed Otto, "I don't do it for pleasure, do I?  Pigs and
other things have got to be killed if we are to live."

"Well, I suppose so," returned Pauline, with a sigh; "at all events it
would never do to roast and eat them alive.  But, about the axe.  Is
there no iron-work in the wreck that might be fashioned into one?"

"Oh yes, sister dear," returned Otto, with a short laugh, "there's
plenty of iron-work.  Some crowbars and ringbolts, and an anchor or two;
but do you suppose that I can slice off a bit of an anchor in the shape
of an axe as you slice a loaf?"

"Well no, not exactly, but I thought there might be some small flat
pieces that could be made to do."

"What is your difficulty," asked Dominick, returning from a hunting
expedition at that moment, and flinging down three brace of fowls on the
floor of the golden cave.

When the difficulty was stated, he remarked that he had often pondered
the matter while lying awake at night, and when wandering in the woods;
and he had come to the conclusion that they must return to what was
termed the stone period of history, and make their axes of flint.

Otto shook his head, and thought Pina's idea of searching the wreck till
they found a piece of flat metal was a more hopeful scheme.

"What do you say to trying both plans?" cried Pauline, with sudden
animation.  "Come, as you have voluntarily elected me queen of this
realm, I command you, Sir Dominick, to make a flint axe without delay,
and you, Sir Otto, to make an iron one without loss of time."

"Your majesty shall be obeyed," replied her obedient subjects, and to
work they went accordingly, the very next morning.

Dominick searched far and near for a flint large enough for his purpose.
He found several, and tried to split them by laying them on a flat
stone, upheaving another stone as large as he could lift, and hurling it
down on them with all his might.  Sometimes the flint would fly from
under the stone without being broken, sometimes it would be crushed to
fragments, and at other times would split in a manner that rendered it
quite unsuitable.  At last, however, by patient perseverance, he
succeeded in splitting one so that an edge of it was thin and sharp,
while the other end was thick and blunt.

Delighted with this success, he immediately cut with his knife, a branch
of one of the hardest trees he could find, and formed it into an
axe-handle.  Some of Pauline's cord he tied round the middle of this,
and then split it at one end, using his flint for the purpose, and a
stone for a hammer.  The split extended only as far as the cord, and he
forced it open by means of little stones as wedges until it was wide
enough to admit the thick end of his flint axe-head.  Using a piece of
soft stone as a pencil, he now marked the form of the flint, where it
touched the wood, exactly, and worked at this with his knife, as
patiently as a Chinaman, for several hours, until the wood fitted the
irregularities and indentations of the flint to a nicety.  This of
itself caused the wood to hold the flint-head very firmly.  Then the
wedges were removed, and when the handle was bound all round the split
part with cord, and the flint-head enveloped in the same, the whole
thing became like a solid mass.

Gingerly and anxiously did Dominick apply it to a tree.  To his joy his
axe caused the chips to fly in all directions.  He soon stopped,
however, for fear of breaking it, and set off in triumph to the golden
cave.

Meanwhile Otto, launching the raft, went on board the wreck to search
for a suitable bit of iron.  As he had said, there was plenty on board,
but none of the size or shape that he required, and he was about to quit
in despair when he observed the flat iron plates, about five inches
square and quarter of an inch thick, with a large hole in the centre of
each, which formed the sockets that held the davits for suspending the
ship's boats.  A crowbar enabled him, after much trouble, to wrench off
one of these.  A handspike was, after some hours' labour, converted into
a handle with one side cut flat.  Laying the plate on this, he marked
its exact size, and then cut away the wood until the iron sank its own
thickness into it.  There were plenty of nails in the wreck; with these
he nailed the iron, through its own nail-holes, to the hard handspike,
and, still further to secure it, he covered it with a little piece of
flat wood, which he bound firmly on with some cordage made by his sister
from cocoa-nut fibre.  As the iron projected on both sides of the
handle, it thus formed a double-edged axe of the most formidable
appearance.  Of course the edges required grinding down, but this was a
mere matter of detail, to be accomplished by prolonged and patient
rubbing on a stone!

Otto arrived triumphantly at the golden cave almost at the same moment
with his brother, and they both laid their axes at the feet of the
queen.

"Thanks, my trusty vassals," she said; "I knew you would both succeed,
and had prepared a royal feast against your return."

"To which I have brought a royal appetite, your majesty," said Otto.

"In truth so have I," added Dominick.

There was a good deal of jesting in all this; nevertheless the trio sat
down to supper that night highly pleased with themselves.  While eating,
they discussed, with much animation, the merits of the axes, and
experienced no little difficulty in deciding which was the better tool.
At last Pauline settled the matter by declaring that the iron axe, being
the strongest, was, perhaps, the best; but as it was not yet sharpened,
while Dominick's was ready for immediate use, the flint axe was in
present circumstances better.

"So then, being equal," said Otto, "and having had a splendid supper, we
will retire to rest."

Thus, in devising means for increasing their comforts, and supplying
their daily necessities, the days and weeks flew swiftly by.



CHAPTER FIVE.

STIRRING EVENTS AND CHANGES.

An event was now pending over the castaway family which was destined to
darken their bright sky, and interrupt them in the even tenor of their
way.

Up to this time the interest, not to say delight, with which they went
about their daily avocations, the fineness of the weather, and the
romance of their situation, had prevented their minds from dwelling much
on the flight of time, and if Pauline had not remembered the Sundays by
conscientiously keeping a daily record with a pencil on a piece of bark,
not one of them would have believed it possible that two months had
elapsed since they were cast ashore.

The sanguine hope, too, which filled the breast of each, that a vessel
would certainly pass by sooner or later and take them off, prevented
their being disturbed by gloomy anticipations of a long exile, and it is
probable that they would have gone on pleasantly for a much longer time,
improving the golden cave, and exploring the reef, and developing the
resources of what Otto styled the Queendom, without much caring about
the future, had not the event above referred to come upon them with the
sudden violence of a thunder-clap, terminating their peaceful life in a
way they had never anticipated, and leading to changes which the wildest
imagination could hardly have conceived.

That event was, indeed, the arrival of a ship, but it did not arrive in
the manner that had been expected.  It came in the dead of a dark night,
when the elements seemed to have declared fierce war against each other,
for it was difficult to say whether the roaring of the sea, the crashing
of the thunder, or the flashing of the forked lightning was most
tremendous.

A previous storm or two, of a mild type, having warned our trio that
Paradise had not been quite regained, even in that lovely region, they
had fitted something like a front, formed of wreckage, to the golden
cave, and this had, up to that time, formed a sufficient protection
against slight inclemencies of weather; but on this particular night the
gusts of wind were so violent, and shook the front of their dwelling so
much, that both Dominick and his brother found it impossible to sleep.
Their sister, however, lay undisturbed, because she reposed in an inner
chamber, which had been screened off with broken planks, and these not
only checked draughts, but deadened sounds.

"I'm afraid our wall will come down," said Dominick, raising himself at
last on one elbow, and gazing at the wooden erection uneasily.

"Oh, let it come!" growled Otto, who had been so frequently checked
while dropping into slumber that night that he was getting quite cross.

Not feeling quite so regardless of consequences, his brother Dominick
arose and endeavoured to prop the weak part of the structure with an
additional piece of timber.

He had accomplished his object, and was about to lie down again to rest,
when a terrible cry was heard, which rose above the roaring of the
storm.  There seemed something so appalling in it, and at the same time
so unaccountable in that solitary spot, that Dominick's heart almost
stood still for a moment with superstitious fear.  Otto also heard the
cry, and sat bolt upright, while drowsiness was effectually banished
from his brain.

"Dom, did you hear that?" he asked in a solemn voice.  "I should think I
did," replied his brother in a low tone.  The cave being very dark,
neither could see the other distinctly.  They sat silent for a few
moments, anxiously listening for a repetition of the cry.

"Move quietly, Otto," said Dominick, as he crept towards their little
door, "it evidently has not awaked Pina, and we may as well let her lie
still till we find out what it is."

"You're not going out, Dom?" asked Otto, in anxiety.

"Yes, why not?"

"Be--because--it--it may be--be--something--_awful_!"

"It _must_ be something awful, and that is just why I am going out.
Come, you didn't use to be a coward."

This was touching the boy on a tender point.  He was indeed by no means
a coward when the danger he had to face was comprehensible and obvious,
but when the danger happened to be incomprehensible, as well as
invisible, his courage was not quite as high as might have been desired.
The taunt of his brother stirred up his pride however.  He rose and
followed him in silence, with stern resolve and a quaking heart!

On issuing from their shelter the brothers had to lean heavily against
the blast to prevent their being swept away.  Seeking the shelter of a
bush, they gazed around them, but saw nothing save a dim appearance of
bending trees and scudding foam.

"The cry may have come from the beach; let's go down," said Dominick,
leaving the shelter of the bush, and pushing forward.

"Better go back," was on Otto's lips, but he repressed the words and
followed.

There was not light enough to enable them to see objects on land, but
whatever chanced to be pictured against the dark sky became distinctly
visible as a dark object.  The old familiar wreck was therefore seen the
moment they cleared the bushes that fringed the bay, but close to it was
another object which was very unfamiliar indeed to their eyes.  It
accounted for the cry and caused a gush of mingled feelings in the
breasts of the brothers.

Let us now, good reader, wing our flight out to sea, and backwards a
little in time.  On that stormy night of which we treat, a large
emigrant ship was scudding before the gale almost under bare poles.
Part of her sails and rigging had been carried away; the rest of her was
more or less damaged.  The officers, having had no reliable observation
for several days, were not sure of their exact position on the great
ocean, and the captain, being well aware of the danger of those seas,
was filled with anxiety.  To add to his troubles, the crew had become
slightly mutinous, and some of the emigrants--of whom there were upwards
of three hundred on board--sided with the crew.  It was even whispered
that the chief mate was at the bottom of a plot to murder the captain
and seize the ship.  For what purpose, of course, no one could tell,
and, indeed, there was no apparent ground for the rumour, beyond the
fact that the mate--Malines by name--was a surly, taciturn man, with a
scowling, though handsome, visage, and a powerful frame.

But whatever of truth might have been in these rumours was never brought
to light, for an accident occurred during the gale which put the
commander of the vessel beyond the power of earthly foes.  One of the
larger ropes of the vessel snapt, and the heavy block attached to it
swung against the captain with such violence as to kill him on the spot.
The momentary confusion which followed the disaster distracted the
attention of the steersman, and a heavy sea was shipped, by which the
captain's body was swept overboard.  No attempt was made to lower a boat
or check the ship.  Even the unskilled emigrants understood that no boat
could live in such a sea, and that rescue was impossible.  The vessel
held on her wild course as if nothing had happened.

Malines, being now in command, issued an order that all the emigrants
should go below, and the hatches be secured.

The women and children and most of the men were already in their
uncomfortable quarters below hatches, but a group of hardy-looking
fellows, who held on to ropes and stanchions near the windlass, refused
to move.  Among them was a remarkably powerful woman, whose tongue
afforded presumptive evidence that she had been born in the Emerald
Isle.

"We'll stop where we be, master," said one of the emigrants, with a
quiet but resolute air.

"That's right, Joe, stick up.  We ain't slaves," said another.

To this last speaker Malines turned fiercely and knocked him down; then,
seizing him by the collar and dragging him to the hatchway, he thrust
him below.  It may be remarked that the man thus roughly treated--
Redding by name--was a little man.  Bullies usually select little men
when inclined to display their courage.

"Shame on yez," exclaimed the Irish woman, clenching her huge fist.  "If
it wasn't that I'm a poor widdy woman, I'd--I'd--"

"Howld yer tongue, Mother Lynch," whispered a lively youth of about
nineteen by her side, who obviously hailed from the same country.  "It's
not aggravatin' him that'll do _him_ good.  Let him be, darlin', and
he'll soon blow the steam off."

"An' what does it matter to me, Teddy Malone, whether he blows the steam
off, or keeps it down till he bursts his biler?  Is it a descendant o'
the royal family o' Munster as'll howld her tongue whin she sees cruelty
and injustice?"

Without paying the slightest regard to this royal personage, Malines
returned to the group of men, and repeated his order to go below; but
they did not go, and he seized a handspike with a view to enforce his
commands.  He hesitated, however, on observing that the man named Joe,
after quietly buttoning his coat, was turning up his wristbands as if in
preparation for a pugilistic encounter.

"Lookee here now, Mister Malines," said Joe, with a mild, even kindly,
expression, which was the very reverse of belligerent; "I was allers a
law-abidin' man myself, and don't have no love for fightin'; but when
I'm ordered to go into a dark hole, and have the lid shut down on me an'
locked, I feels a sort of objection, d'ee see.  If you lets us be, us'll
let you be.  If otherwise--"

Joe stopped abruptly, grinned, and clenched his enormous fists.

Mr Malines was one of those wise men who know when they have met their
match.  His knockings down and overbearing ways always stopped short at
that line where he met courage and strength equal or superior to his
own.  He possessed about the average of bull-dog courage and more than
the average of physical strength, but observing that Joe was gifted with
still more of both these qualities, he lowered the handspike, and with a
sneer replied--

"Oh, well--please yourselves.  It matters nothing to me if you get
washed overboard.  Make all fast, lads," he added, turning to his crew,
who stood prepared for what one of them styled a scrimmage.  Malines
returned to the quarter-deck, followed by a half-suppressed laugh from
some of the mutinous emigrants.

"You see, David," remarked Joe, in a quiet tone, to a man beside him, as
he turned down his cuffs, "I think, from the look of him, that if we was
to strike on rocks, or run on shore, or take to sinking, or anything o'
that sort, the mate is mean enough to look arter hisself and leave the
poor things below to be choked in a hole.  So you an' me must keep on
deck, so as to let 'em all out if need be."

"Right, Joe, right you are."

The man who thus replied bore such a strong resemblance to Joe in grave
kindliness of expression and colossal size of frame, that even a
stranger could not fail to recognise them as brothers, and such they
were--in truth they were twins, having first seen the light together
just thirty years before.  There was this difference in the character of
the brothers, however, that Joe Binney was the more intellectual and
resolute of the two.  David Binney, recognising this fact, and loving
his brother with all the fervour of a strong nature, was in the habit of
looking up to him for advice, and submitting to him as if he had been an
elder brother.  Nevertheless, David was not without a mind of his own,
and sometimes differed in opinion with Joe.  He even occasionally
disputed, but never with the slightest tinge of ill-feeling.

While the brothers were conversing in an undertone on the dangers of the
sea, and the disagreeables of a fore-cabin, the mass of unfortunates
below were cowering in their berths, rendered almost forgetful of the
stifling atmosphere, and the wailing of sick children, by the fear of
shipwreck, as they listened with throbbing hearts to the howling wind
and rattling cordage overhead, and felt the tremendous shocks when the
good ship was buffeted by the sea.

Near to Joe Binney stood one of the sailors on outlook.  He was a
dark-complexioned, savage-looking man, who had done more than any one
else to foment the bad feeling that had existed between the captain and
his men.

"Ye look somethin' skeared, Hugh Morris," said Joe, observing that the
look-out was gazing over the bow with an expression of alarm.

"Breakers ahead!" roared the man at that moment--"port!--hard-a-port!"

The order was sharply repeated, and promptly obeyed, and the vessel came
round in time to escape destruction on a ledge of rocks, over which the
water was foaming furiously.

Instantly Malines went forward and began to give hurried directions to
the steersman.  The danger was avoided, though the escape was narrow,
and the low rocks were seen passing astern, while the sea ahead seemed
to be free from obstruction, as far, at least, as the profound darkness
permitted them to see.

"They'll be all drowned like rats in a hole if we strike," muttered the
sailor, Hugh Morris, as if speaking to himself.

"Not if I can help it," said Joe Binney, who overheard the remark.

As he spoke he went to the little companion hatch, or door to the
fore-cabin, and tried to open it, but could not.

"Here, David," he cried, "lend a hand."

Applying their united strength--with some assistance from Teddy Malone,
and earnest encouragement from Mrs Lynch--they succeeded in bursting
open the hatch.

"Hallo! there," shouted Joe, in a voice that would have been creditable
to a boatswain, "come on deck if ye don't want to be drownded."

"Hooroo!" added Malone, "we're goin' to the bottom!  Look alive wid ye."

"Ay, an' bring up the childers," yelled Mrs Lynch.  "Don't lave wan o'
thim below."

Of course, the poor emigrants were not slow to obey these startling
orders.

The state of affairs was so serious that Malines either did not see, or
did not care for, what was going on.  He stood on the forecastle looking
out intently ahead.

"Land on the starboard beam!" shouted Morris suddenly.

The mate was on the point of giving an order to the steersman when he
observed land looming on the port bow.  Instantly he saw that all hope
was over.  They were steering to inevitable destruction between two
ledges of rock!  What he would have done in the circumstances no one can
tell, because before he had time to act the vessel struck with great
violence, and the terror-stricken passengers gave vent to that appalling
cry of fear which had so suddenly aroused Dominick Rigonda and his
brother.

As the vessel remained hard and fast, with her bow thrust high on the
rocks, the emigrants and crew found a partial refuge from the violence
of the waves on the forecastle.  Hence the first wild shriek of fear was
not repeated.  In a few minutes, however, a wave of greater size than
usual came rushing towards the vessel.  Fortunately, most of the
emigrants failed to realise the danger, but the seamen were fully alive
to it.

"It's all over with us," exclaimed the mate, in a sort of reckless
despair.  But he was wrong.  The great billow, which he expected would
dash the vessel in pieces--and which, in nine cases out of ten, would
have done so--lifted the wreck so high as to carry it almost completely
over the ledge, on which it had struck, leaving the stern high on the
rocks, while the bow was plunged into the partly-protected water on the
other side.

The sudden descent of the forecastle induced the belief an many of the
emigrants' minds that they were about to go headlong to the bottom, and
another cry of terror arose; but when they found that their place of
refuge sank no further than to a level with the water, most of them took
heart again, and began to scramble up to the quarter-deck as hastily as
they had before scrambled to the forecastle.

"Something like land ahead," observed Hugh Morris, who stood close to
the mate.

"I don't see it," returned the latter, gruffly, for he was jealous of
the influence that Morris had over the crew, and, during the whole
voyage, had treated him harshly.

"It may be there, although you don't see it," retorted Hugh, with a
feeling of scorn, which he made no attempt to conceal.

"Sure I sees somethin' movin' on the wather," exclaimed Mrs Lynch, who,
during the occurrences just described, had held on to a belaying pin
with the tenacity and strength of an octopus.

"It's the wather movin' in yer own eyes, mother," said Malone, who stood
beside his Amazonian countrywoman.

At that moment a halloo was heard faintly in the distance, and, soon
after, a raft was seen approaching, guided, apparently, by two men.

"Raft a-hoy!  Where d'ee hail from?" shouted the mate.

"From nowhere!" came back promptly in a boy's ringing voice.

"You've got on a coral reef," shouted a powerful voice, which, we need
scarcely say, was that of Dominick Rigonda, "but you're safe enough now.
The last wave has shoved you over into sheltered water.  You're in
luck.  We'll soon put you on shore."

"An island, I suppose," said Malines, as the raft came alongside.  "What
may be its name?"

"Got no name that I know of; as far as I know it's uninhabited, and,
probably, unknown.  Only three of us here--wrecked like yourselves.  If
you have boats, lower them, and I'll pilot you to land."

"Ohone!" groaned Mrs Lynch, in solemn despair, as she tried to see the
speaker, whom darkness rendered almost invisible.  "An unbeknown island,
uninhabited by nobody.  Boys, we are done for intirely.  Didn't I say
this would be the end of it, when we made up our minds to go to say?"

No one seemed inclined just then to dispute the prophetic reminiscences
of the widow, for the order had been given to get ready one of the
boats.  Turning to the emigrants, who were now clustering on the fore
part of the vessel, Malines, condescending to adopt a more respectful
tone, addressed them as follows:--

"Now, let me tell you, one and all, that your voyage has come to an end
sooner than I expected.  Our ship is wrecked, but we're out of danger,
and must go ashore an' live as best we can, or die if we can't live.
Where we are, I don't know, and don't care, for it don't much matter.
It's an island, it seems, and three people who have been wrecked before
us are all its population.  As it is too dark to go ashore comfortably
to-night, I would advise you to go below again, an' turn in till
daylight.  You may make your minds easy, for there's no fear of our
going to the bottom _now_."

"Sure, an' you're right there," murmured Teddy Malone, "for aren't we at
the bottom already?"

"You may all do as you please, however," continued the mate, after a
low-toned remark from one of the crew, "for my command has come to an
end with the loss of the ship."

When the mate ceased speaking, there was a brief pause, for the
unfortunate emigrants had been so long accustomed to conform to the
strict discipline of the ship that they felt like sheep suddenly
deprived of a shepherd, or soldiers bereft of their officers when thus
left to think for themselves.  Then the self-sufficient and officious
among them began to give advice, and to dispute noisily as to what they
should do, so that in a few minutes their voices, mingling with the gale
and the cries of terrified children, caused such a din that the strong
spirit of the widow Lynch was stirred within her, inducing her to raise
her masculine voice in a shout that silenced nearly all the rest.

"That's right, mother," cried young Malone, "howld yer tongues, boys,
and let's hear what the widdy has to say.  Isn't it herself has got the
great mind--not to mintion the body?"

"Shut your murphy-trap, Teddy," retorted the widow, "an' here's what
I've got to say.  We must have only wan man to guide us if we are to get
on at all.  Too many cooks, ye knows well enough, is sure to spile the
broth.  Let Joe Binney speak, and the rest of 'ee howld yer tongues, if
ye can."

Thus invited, modest Joe gave it as his opinion that the emigrants could
not do better than follow the advice of Muster Malines--go below, turn
in, and wait till daylight.  He added further that he would count it a
favour if Muster Malines would continue in command of the party, at
least till they all got ashore.

This little compliment to the man whom he had so recently defied had a
softening influence on the mate, and the proposal was well received by
the people, who, even during the few minutes of anarchy which had
prevailed, were led to appreciate the value of order and government.

"You are right, Binney," said the mate.  "I would advise you all, good
people, to go below and rest as well as you can, while I, and those who
choose to act under me, will go ashore and make the best possible
arrangements for your landing in the morning."

"Now, why don't ye do what ye'er towld at wanst?" cried Mrs Lynch, who
had evidently made up her mind that the reins of government were not to
be entirely given up to the mate.  "It's not wishin', are ye, to get
wetter than ye are, a'ready?  Go below, ivery wan of ye."

Like a meek flock, the women and children obeyed the mandate, being
absolutely in bodily fear of the woman, while most of the men followed
them with a laugh, or a little chaff, according to temperament.

Before the latter had left the deck, Malines suggested that Joe Binney
and his brother David should accompany him on shore that night, to
represent the emigrants, as it were, and assist him in the proposed
arrangements.

"Besides," he added, "there is just the possibility that we may fall
into a trap.  We know nothing about the man who has come off to us
except his voice, so that it will be wise to land with some of our best
men armed."

Of course the brothers had no objection to this plan, and accordingly
they, with the mate and four of the ship's crew--all armed with
cutlasses and pistols--got into one of the boats and were lowered into
the water on the lee side of the vessel, where Dominick and Otto had
been quietly awaiting the end of the foregoing discussions.

In a few minutes they reached the shore, and then Dominick shook hands
with them, and welcomed them to the islands, "which," he said, "we have
named `Refuge Islands.'"

"Run up to the cave, Otto," he whispered, while the party was engaged in
drawing up the boat.  "Stir up the fire and rouse Pina,--tell her to
prepare to receive company."

"She'll be as much puzzled as if I told her to prepare to receive
cavalry," muttered the boy as he ran up to the cave.

"Hallo!  Pina! rouse up, old girl," he shouted, bursting into the cave,
and falling on his knees before the embers of the fire, which he soon
blew up into a flame.  "I say, Pina! hallo!  Pina!  Pi-i-i-i-na!"

"Dear me, Otto, what is wrong?" asked the sleepy voice of Pauline from
behind her screen.

"Wrong?" cried her brother, "nothing's wrong--that is, everything's
wrong; but don't be afraid, old girl, all's right.  Dress as fast as you
can, and prepare for company!"

"What _do_ you mean?" cried the girl, by that time thoroughly aroused,
and somewhat alarmed by Otto's words and excitement.

"Can't explain.  No time.  Get up, make yourself presentable, and come
out of your den."

As he spoke Pauline lifted the curtain door of her apartment and stepped
into the outer cave, which was by that time all aglow with the ruddy
blaze.

"Do you call yourself presentable?" asked Otto, laughing; "why your hair
is raised like the back of a wild cat."

It is only right to say that the boy did not do his sister justice.  An
old shawl thrown hastily on, and descending in confused folds around her
slight, graceful figure, invested her with an air of classic simplicity,
while her pretty face, surrounded by a wealth of dishevelled, but
beautiful, hair, was suggestive of something very much the reverse of a
wild cat.

"Are you prepared, sister, for a stunning surprise?" said Otto, quickly,
for he heard the approaching footsteps of the party.

"I'm prepared for anything," said Pauline, her lustrous eyes and her
little mouth opening simultaneously, for she also heard the numerous
footfalls outside.

"'Tis well!" cried Otto, starting up, and assuming a heroic attitude as
he waved his right hand toward the door of the cavern, "no time to
explain.  Enter Dominick, with band of robbers, headed by their captain,
amid shrieking wind, forked lightning, and peals of thunder!"

As he spoke, Pauline, despite her surprise, could scarcely refrain from
laughter, for Otto's words were fulfilled almost to the letter.  Amid a
strife of elements that caused their frail erections to tremble, the
little door burst open, and Dominick, stooping low to save his head,
entered.  He was followed by the gaunt, dark form of Malines, who, in
rough garments and long fishermen's boots, with pistols in belt, and
cutlass by his side, was a particularly good representative of a
robber-captain.  Following him came the still more gigantic Joe Binney,
and his equally huge brother David, after which trooped in the boat's
crew one by one.

As each man entered he stood stock still--dumb, petrified with
astonishment--as he gazed, saucer-eyed, at Pauline.  Bereft of speech
and motion, she returned the gaze with interest.

Oh! it was a rare treat to Otto!  His little bosom heaved with delight
as he watched the shipwrecked men enter one after another and become
petrefactions!  Some of the sailors even dropped their lower jaws with
wonder.

Dominick, who, in the bustle of action, had not thought of the surprise
in store for his visitors, burst into a hearty fit of laughter.

"It was well got up, Otto," he said at last.

"No, it wasn't, Dom.  I do assure you it was not got up at all, but came
about in the most natural manner."

"Well, got up or not," returned Dominick, "here you are, friends, in
what we have styled our golden cave, and this is my sister Pauline--
allow me to introduce you, Pina, to part of a shipwrecked crew."

The youth's laughter, and the introduction which followed, seemed to
disenchant the mariners, who, recovering self-possession with a deep
sigh, became sheepish in bearing, and seemed inclined to beat a retreat,
but our heroine quickly put them at their ease.  With a natural tact and
grace of manner which had the appearance of, but was not meant for,
dignity, she advanced and offered her little hand to Malines, who seemed
to fear that he might crush it unintentionally, so slight was the shake
he gave it.

"You are heartily welcome to our cavern," she said.  "I'm _so_ grieved
to hear that you have been wrecked."

"Don't mention it, Miss.  Not worth speaking of, I assure you; we're
quite used to it," replied Malines, not knowing very well what he said.

The ice, however, was broken.  From this point all went on, as Otto
said, swimmingly.  The mate began to relate the circumstances of the
recent wreck, while Pauline and Otto spread the remains of their supper
before the men, and set about roasting the fowls that had been intended
for the morrow's breakfast.

Before long the gale began to abate, and the sailors went out with
Dominick, to select a spot on which the emigrants might encamp, being
aided in this work by a struggling and fitful moonlight.  After that
Malines went back with his party to the ship, and Dominick returned with
Otto to court slumber in the golden cave.



CHAPTER SIX.

SHIPWRECKED EMIGRANTS AND HORRIFIED CONSPIRATORS.

The scene which presented itself on the morning after the storm is not
easily described, and the change to the trio who had up to that time
lived so peacefully on Refuge Islands' Reef was so great that they found
it difficult at first to believe it was other than a dream.

On awaking, indeed, Otto saluted his brother with the exclamation--

"O Dom, I've had such a comical dream!"

"Indeed, my boy," said Dominick, "I fear it was no dream, but a
reality."

At this Otto suddenly sprang up, and ran out to relieve his mind on the
point.  A few seconds sufficed.  On clearing the bushes he beheld the
new wreck lying not far from the old one, and saw from the crowds of
people who were being put into the boats that the emigrant ship had been
no mere creature of his imagination.  It was evident that the boat which
had just quitted the vessel's side contained the first band of
emigrants, for the only people yet landed were a few men, who busied
themselves in putting up a rude shelter for the women and children, and
in kindling fires for the preparation of breakfast on a little mound
between two and three hundred yards from the golden cave.

By that time the storm had blown itself out, and the rising sun was
mounting into a cloudless blue sky, and covering the sea with dazzling
ripples, which looked as if the very water were laughing with joy at the
sudden change from darkness and fury to light and peace.

Conspicuous among those who worked on shore was the gigantic form of Joe
Binney.  Considering him an old acquaintance.  Otto ran up to him and
shook hands.

"How many emigrants are there of you?" he asked.

"Three hundred, more or less, master, but I ain't rightly sure; there's
such a many that it's difficult to count 'em when they are all a-movin'
to and fro."

"Here, Joe, catch hold o' this post, an' keep it steady till I make it
fast," said Hugh Morris, the seaman who has been described as one of the
most turbulent among the men.

While Joe assisted in the erection of the canvas booth or shelter, he
gave Otto a good deal of information regarding the vessel, the
emigrants, the crew, and the misunderstandings which had occurred
previous to the captain's death.

"It's well for one man that we've bin wrecked, anyhow," remarked Morris,
stepping back with an artistic air to survey his handiwork.

"You mean the young doctor," said Joe.

"That's who I mean," returned Morris.  "Doctor John Marsh.  He's the
only man in the ship that's worth his salt, but I fear he's a doomed
man."

"I hope not, Hugh, though there _are_ one or two men on board worth more
than their salt," said Joe, with a peculiar smile, as he returned to the
care of a large kettle of beans, from which the sailor had called him.

On Otto inquiring what was the matter with the doctor, Joe Binney
explained--

"He's been ill a'most since we left England, owin' to a fall he had in
tryin' to save one o' the child'n as was tumblin' down the after-hatch.
He saved the child, but broke one or two of his own ribs, an' the broken
ends must have damaged his lungs, for, ever since, he's bin spittin'
blood an' wearin' away, till we can hardly believe he's the same stout,
hearty, active young feller that came aboord at Gravesend.  Spite of his
hurt he's bin goin' among us quite cheerful-like, doin' the best he
could for the sick; but as Morris says, he looks like a doomed man.
P'r'aps gittin' ashore may do him good.  You see, bein' the only doctor
in the ship, he couldn't attend to hisself as well as might be, mayhap."

While Joe and Otto were conversing, the first boat load of emigrants
landed, consisting chiefly of women and children.  Dr Marsh was also
among them, in order that, as he said with quiet pleasantry, he might
attend to the sanitary arrangements of the camp in the new land, though
all who saw him quit the wreck were under the sorrowful impression that
the new land would prove to be in his case a last resting-place.

There was something peculiarly attractive in the manly, handsome face of
this young disciple of Aesculapius, worn as it was by long sickness and
suffering, and Otto fell in love with him at first sight.

There can be no doubt that some human beings are so constituted as to
powerfully attract others by their mere physical conformation and
expression, without reference to character or conduct,--indeed, before
character or conduct can possibly be known.  And when this peculiar
conformation and expression is coupled with delicacy of health, and
obvious suffering, the attractive influence becomes irresistible.  Let
us thank God that such is the case.  Blind, unreasoning affection is a
grand foundation on which to build a mighty superstructure of good
offices, kindly acts, and tender feelings, mingled, it may be, with
loving forbearance, and occasional suffering, which shall be good to the
souls of the lover, as well as the loved one.

Anyhow, when Otto saw Dr Marsh helped, almost lifted, out of the boat;
observed him give a pitiful little smile, and heard him utter some mild
pleasantry to those who assisted him, he experienced a gush of feeling
such as had never before inflated his reckless little bosom, and
something like water--to his great astonishment--caused interference
with his vision.

Running forward just as the widow Lynch was officiously thrusting her
warm-hearted attentions on the invalid, he accosted the doctor, and
offered to escort him to the golden cave.

And we may here inform the reader that the involuntary affection of our
little hero met with a suitable return, for Dr Marsh also fell in love
with Otto at first sight.  His feelings, however, were strongly mingled
with surprise.

"My boy," he said, with painfully wide-open eyes, "from what part of the
sky have _you_ dropt?"

"Well, not being a falling star or a rocket-stick, I cannot claim such
high descent,--but hasn't the mate told you about us?" returned Otto.

Here widow Lynch broke in with:

"Towld him about you?  Av course he hasn't.  He don't throuble his hid
to tell much to any wan; an', sure, wasn't the doctor slaapin' whin he
returned aboord i' the night, an' wasn't I nursin' of 'im, and d'ee
think any wan could git at 'im widout my lave?"

Otto thought that certainly no one could easily accomplish that feat,
and was about to say so, when Dr Marsh said remonstratively--

"Now, my dear widow Lynch, do leave me to the care of this new friend,
who, I am sure, is quite able to assist me, and do you go and look after
these poor women and children.  They are quite helpless without your
aid.  Look! your favourite Brown-eyes will be in the water if you don't
run."

The child of a poor widow, which had been styled Brown-eyes by the
doctor because of its gorgeous optics, was indeed on the point of taking
an involuntary bath as he spoke.  Mrs Lynch, seeing the danger, rushed
tumultuously to the rescue, leaving the doctor to Otto's care.

"Don't let me lean too heavily on you," he said, looking down; "I'm
big-boned, you see, and long-legged, though rather thin."

"Pooh!" said Otto, looking up, "you're as light as a feather, and I'm as
strong as a horse,--a little horse, at least.  You'd better not go to
the camp yet, they are not ready for you, and that sweet little delicate
creature you call widow Lynch is quite able to manage them all.  Come up
with me to the cave.  But has nobody said a word about _us_?"

"Not a soul.  As the widow told you, I was asleep when the mate returned
to the wreck.  Indeed, it is not very long since I awoke.  I did hear
some mention in passing of a few people being on the island, but I
thought they referred to savages."

"Perhaps they were not far wrong," said Otto, with a laugh.  "I do feel
pretty savage sometimes, and Dominick is awful when he is roused; but we
can't count Pauline among the savages."

"Dominick!  Pauline!" exclaimed the doctor.  "My good fellow, explain
yourself, and let us sit down on this bank while you do so.  I'm so
stupidly weak that walking only a few yards knocks me up."

"Well, only two or three yards further will bring you to our cave, which
is just beyond that cluster of bushes, but it may be as well to
enlighten you a little before introducing you."

In a few rapid sentences Otto explained their circumstances, and how
they came to be there.  He told his brief tale in sympathetic ears.

"And your own name," asked the doctor, "is--?"

"Otto Rigonda."

"Well, Otto, my boy, you and I shall be friends; I know it--I feel it."

"And I'm _sure_ of it," responded the enthusiastic boy, grasping the
hand of the invalid, and shaking it almost too warmly.  "But come, I
want to present you to my sister.  Dominick is already among the
emigrants, for I saw him leave the cave and go down to the camp when you
were disputing with that female grampus."

"Come, don't begin our friendship by speaking disrespectfully of one of
my best friends," said the doctor, rising; "but for widow Lynch's tender
nursing I don't think I should be here now."

"I'll respect and reverence her henceforth and for ever," said Otto.
"But here we are--this is the golden cave.  Now you'll have to stoop,
because our door was made for short men like me--and for humble long
ones like my brother."

"I'll try to be a humble long one," said the doctor as he stooped and
followed Otto into the cave.

Pauline was on her knees in front of the fire, with her back to the
door, as they entered.  She was stooping low and blowing at the flames
vigorously.

"O Otto!" she exclaimed, without looking round, "this fire will break my
heart.  It _won't_ light!"

"More company, Pina," said her brother.

Pauline sprang up and turned round with flushed countenance and
disordered hair; and again Otto had the ineffable delight of seeing
human beings suddenly reduced to that condition which is variously
described as being "stunned," "thunderstruck," "petrified," and "struck
all of a heap" with surprise.

Pauline was the first to recover self-possession.

"Really, Otto, it is too bad of you to take one by surprise so.  Excuse
me, sir,--no doubt you are one of the unfortunates who have been
wrecked.  I have much pleasure in offering you the hospitality of our
humble home!"

Pauline spoke at first half jestingly, but when she looked full at the
thin, worn countenance of the youth who stood speechless before her, she
forgot surprise and everything else in a feeling of pity.

"But you have been ill," she continued, sympathetically; "this wreck
must have--pray sit down."

She placed a little stool for her visitor beside the fire.

If Dr John Marsh had spoken the words that sprang to his lips he would
have begun with "Angelic creature," but he suppressed his feelings and
only stammered--

"Your b-brother, Miss Rigonda, must have a taste for taking people by
surprise, for he did not tell me that--that--I--I mean he did not
prepare me for--for--you are right.  I think I had better sit down, for
I have, as you perceive, been very ill, and am rather weak, and--and in
the circumstances such an unexpected--a--"

At this critical moment Dominick fortunately entered the cave, and
rescued the doctor from the quicksand, in which he was floundering.

"Oh! you must be the very man I want," he said, grasping his visitor by
the hand.

"That is strange," returned the doctor, with a languid smile, "seeing
that you have never met me before."

"True, my good sir; nevertheless I may venture to say that I know you
well, for there's a termagant of an Irish woman down at the camp going
about wringing her hands, shouting out your good qualities in the most
pathetic tones, and giving nobody a moment's peace because she does not
know what has become of you.  Having a suspicion that my brother must
have found you and brought you here, I came to see.  But pray, may I ask
your name, for the Irish woman only describes you as `Doctor, dear!'"

"Allow me to introduce him," cried Otto, "as an old friend of mine--Dr
Marsh."

Dominick looked at his brother in surprise.

"Otto is right," said the doctor, with a laugh, "at least if feeling may
be permitted to do duty for time in gauging the friendship."

"Well, Dr Marsh, we are happy to make your acquaintance, despite the
sadness of the circumstances," said Dominick, "and will do all we can
for you and your friends; meanwhile, may I ask you to come to the camp
and relieve the mind of your worshipper, for I can scarcely call her
less."

Poor Dr Marsh, feeling greatly exhausted by excitement as much as by
exertion, was on the point of excusing himself and begging his host to
fetch the widow up to the cave, when he was saved the trouble by the
widow herself, whose voice was just then heard outside.

"What's that yer sayin', Joe?" she exclaimed in a remonstrative tone,
"ye seed 'im go into that rabbit-hole?  Never!  Don't tell me!  Arrah
it's on his hands an knees he'd have to do it."

The voice which replied was pitched in a much deeper and softer key, but
it was heard distinctly to say, "Ay, widdy Lynch, that's the door I seed
him an' a boy go through; so ye'd better rap at it an' inquire."

"Faix, an' that's jist what I'll do, though I don't half belave ye."

She was about to apply her large red knuckles to the door in question
when her intention was frustrated and her doubts were scattered by the
door opening and Dominick presenting himself.

"Come in, Mrs Lynch, come in.  Your doctor is here, alive and well."

"Well, is it--ah!  I wish he was!  Are ye there, darlin'?"

"Yes, yes," came from within, in a laughing voice.  "Here I am, Mrs
Lynch, all right and comfortable.  Come in."

Being excessively tall, the widow was obliged, like others, to stoop to
enter; but being also excessively broad, she only got her head and
shoulders through the doorway, and then, unlike others, she stuck fast.
By dint, however, of a good pull from Dominick and a gentle push from
Joe, she was got inside without quite carrying away the structure which
the gale of the preceding night had spared.

"Och! 'tis a quare place intirely, and there is some disadvantage in
bein' big--thank ye kindly, sir--but on the whole--"

She got no further, for at that moment her sharp little grey eyes fell
on Pauline, and once again Otto's heart was stirred to its profoundest
depths by the expressive glare that ensued.  Indeed, Dominick and Marsh
were equally affected, and could not help laughing.

"Ha! ye may laugh," said the widow, with profound solemnity, "but if
it's not dramin' I am, what Father Macgrath says about ghosts is true,
and--"

"I hope you don't take _me_ for a ghost, Mrs Lynch," said Pauline,
stepping forward with a kindly smile and holding out her hand.

"No, cushla!  I don't," returned the widow, accepting the hand tenderly.
"Sure it's more like a ghost the doctor is, in spite of his larfin'.
But wonders 'll niver cease.  I'll lave 'im wid an aisy mind, for he's
in good hands.  Now, Joe, clear out o' the door, like a good man, an'
let me through.  They'll be wantin' me at the camp.  A good haul, Joe,
I'm tough; no fear o' me comin' to pieces.  Och! but it's a poor cabin.
An Irish pig wouldn't thank ye for it."

Murmuring similar uncomplimentary remarks, mingled with expressions of
surprise, the voice of the woman gradually died away, and the people in
the golden cave were left to discuss their situation and form hasty
plans for the present emergency.

At first, of course, they could do little else than make each other
partially acquainted with the circumstances which had so strangely
thrown them together, but Dominick soon put an end to this desultory
talk.

"You see, it will take all our time," he said, "between this and sunset
to get the emigrants comfortably under canvas, or some sort of shelter."

"True," assented Dr Marsh, "and it would never do with so many women
and children, some of whom are on the sick list, to leave them to the
risk of exposure to another storm like that which has just passed.  Is
your island subject to such?"

"By no means," answered Dominick.  "It has a splendid climate.  This
gale is quite exceptional.  Nevertheless, we cannot tell when the next
may burst on us.  Come, Otto, you and I will go down to the camp.  Now,
Dr Marsh, you must remain here.  I can see, without being told, that
you are quite unfit to help us.  I know that it is hard to be condemned
to inaction when all around are busy, but reflect how many patients you
have solemnly warned that their recovery would depend on implicit
obedience to the doctor's orders!  Divide yourself in two, now, and, as
a doctor, give yourself strict orders to remain quiet."

"H'm!  Gladly would I divide myself," was the doctor's reply, "if while
I left the patient half to act the invalid, I could take the impatient
half down to the camp to aid you.  But I submit.  The days of my once
boasted strength are gone.  I feel more helpless than a mouse."

There was something quite pitiful in the half-humorous look, and the
weary sigh, with which the poor youth concluded his remarks, and Otto
was so touched that he suddenly suggested the propriety of his staying
behind and taking care of him.

"Why, you conceited creature," cried Dominick, "of what use could _you_
be?  Besides, don't you think that Pina is a sufficiently good nurse?"

Otto humbly admitted that she was.

Dr Marsh, glancing at her pretty face, on which at the moment there
beamed an expression of deep sympathy, also admitted that she was; but,
being a man of comparatively few words, he said nothing.

It was a busy day for Dominick and his brother.  Not only had they to
counsel and advise with the unfortunate emigrants as to the best
position for the temporary encampment, with reference to wood and water,
as well as to assist with their own hands in the erection of tents made
of torn sails and huts and booths composed of broken planks and reeds,
but they had to answer innumerable questions from the inquisitive as to
their own history, from the anxious as to the probabilities of
deliverance, from the practical as to the resources of the islands, and
from the idiotic as to everything in general and nothing in particular.
In addition to which they had to encourage the timid, to correct the
mistaken, and to remonstrate with or resist the obstinate; also to romp
a little with the children as they recovered their spirits, quiet the
babies as they recovered their powers of lung, and do a little amateur
doctoring for the sick in the absence of the medical man.

In all these varied occupations they were much aided by the widow Lynch,
who, instead of proving to be, as they had expected, a troublesome
termagant, turned out to be a soft-hearted, kindly, enthusiastic,
sympathetic woman, with a highly uneducated, unbalanced mind, a
powerfully constituted and masculine frame, and "a will of her own."  In
this last particular she did not differ much from the rest of the human
species, but she was afflicted with an unusually strong desire to assert
it.

Very like Mrs Lynch in the matters of kindly soft-heartedness and
sympathy was Mrs Welsh--a poor, gentle, delicate Englishwoman, the wife
of a great hulking cross-grained fellow named Abel, who was a carpenter
by trade and an idler by preference.  Mrs Welsh was particularly good
as a sick-nurse and a cook, in which capacities she made herself
extremely useful.

About midday, Mrs Welsh having prepared a glorious though simple meal
for her section of the emigrant band, and the other sections having been
ministered to more or less successfully by their more or less capable
cooks, Dominick and Otto went up to the golden cave to dinner, which
they well knew the faithful Pauline would have ready waiting for them.

"What a day we have had, to be sure!" said Dominick as they walked
along; "and I'm as hungry as a kangaroo."

Without noticing the unreasonableness of supposing that long-legged
creature to be the hungriest of animals, Otto declared that he was in
the same condition, "if not more so."

On opening the door they were checked by the expression of Pauline's
face, the speaking eyes of which, and the silent mouth, were
concentrated into an unmistakable "hush!"--which was emphasised by a
significant forefinger.

"What's wrong?" whispered Dominick, anxiously.

"Sleeping," murmured Pauline--she was too good a nurse to whisper--
pointing to the invalid, who, overcome with the night's exposure and the
morning's excitement, had fallen into a profound slumber on Otto's
humble couch.

This was a rather severe and unexpected trial to Otto, who had come up
to the cave brimming over with camp news for Pauline's benefit.  He felt
that it was next to impossible to relate in a whisper all the doings and
sayings, comical and otherwise, that he had seen and heard that day.  To
eat his dinner and say nothing seemed equally impossible.  To awaken the
wearied sleeper was out of the question.  However, there was nothing for
it but to address himself to the suppression of his feelings.  Probably
it was good for him to be thus self-disciplined; certainly it was
painful.

He suffered chiefly at the top of the nose--inside behind his eyes--that
being the part of the safety-valve where bursts of laughter were
checked; and more than once, while engaged in a whispering commentary on
the amiable widow Lynch, the convulsions within bade fair to blow the
nasal organ off his face altogether.  Laughter is catching.  Pauline and
Dominick, ere long, began to wish that Otto would hold his tongue.  At
last, some eccentricity of Joe Binney, or his brother, or Mrs Lynch, we
forget which, raised the pressure to such a pitch that the safety-valves
of all three became ineffective.  They all exploded in unison, and poor
Marsh was brought to consciousness, surprise, and a sitting posture at
the same instant.

"I'm afraid," he said, rather sheepishly, "that I've been sleeping."

"You have, doctor, and a right good sleep you've had," said Dominick,
rising and placing a stool for the invalid.  "We ought to apologise for
disturbing you; but come, sit down and dine.  You must be hungry by this
time."

"Indeed I am.  The land air seems to have had a powerful effect on me
already."

"Truly it must," remarked Pauline, "else you could not have fallen
asleep in the very middle of my glowing description of our island home."

"Did I really do that?" said the doctor, with an air of self-reproach.

"Indeed you did; but in the circumstances you are to be excused."

"And I hope," added Dominick, "that you'll have many a good sleep in our
golden cave."

"Golden cave, indeed," echoed the invalid, in thought, for his mind was
too much taken up just then with Pauline to find vent in speech.  "A
golden cave it will be to me for evermore!"

It is of no use mincing the matter; Dr John Marsh, after being regarded
by his friends at home as hopelessly unimpressible--in short, an
absolute woman-hater--had found his fate on a desolate isle of the
Southern seas, he had fallen--nay, let us be just--had jumped over head
and ears in love with Pauline Rigonda!  Dr Marsh was no sentimental
die-away noodle who, half-ashamed, half-proud of his condition, displays
it to the semi-contemptuous world.  No; after disbelieving for many
years in the power of woman to subdue him, he suddenly and manfully gave
in--sprang up high into the air, spiritually, and so to speak, turning a
sharp somersault, went headlong down deep into the flood, without the
slightest intention of ever again returning to the surface.

But of this mighty upheaval and overturning of his sentiments he
betrayed no symptom whatever, excepting two bright spots--one on either
cheek--which might easily have been mistaken for the effects of
weakness, or recent excitement, or bad health, or returning hunger.
Calmly he set to work on the viands before him with unusual appetite,
conversing earnestly, meanwhile, with Dominick and Otto on the gravity
of their situation, and bestowing no more attention upon Pauline than
was barely consistent with good breeding, insomuch that that pretty
young creature began to feel somewhat aggrieved.  Considering all the
care she had so recently bestowed on him, she came to the conclusion, in
short, that he was by no means as polite as at first she had supposed
him to be.

By degrees the conversation about the present began to give place to
discussions as to the future, and when Dominick and Otto returned for
their evening meal at sunset, bringing with them Mr Malines, the mate,
and Joe Binney and his brother David and Hugh Morris as being
representative men of the emigrants and ship's crew, the meeting
resolved itself into a regular debating society.  At this point Pauline
deserted them and went down to the camp to cultivate the acquaintance of
the widow Lynch, Mrs Welsh, and the other female and infantine members
of the wrecked party.

"For my part," said Malines, "I shall take one o' the boats, launch it
in the lagoon, and go over to the big island, follow me who may, for it
is clear that there's not room for us all on this strip of sand."

"I don't see that," objected Hugh Morris.  "Seems to me as there's space
enough for all of us, if we're not too greedy."

"That shows ye knows nothin' about land, Hugh," said Joe Binney.
"What's of it here is not only too little, but too sandy.  I votes for
the big island."

"So does I," said David Binney.  "Big Island for me."

Thus, incidentally, was the large island named.

"But," said Hugh, still objecting, "it won't be half so convenient to
git things out o' the wreck, as where we are."

"Pooh! that's nothing," said Malines.  "It won't cost us much trouble to
carry all we want across a spit of sand."

Seeing that the two men were getting angry with each other, Dominick
interposed by blandly stating that he knew well the capabilities of the
spot on which they were encamped, and he was sure that such a party
would require more ground if they meant to settle on it.

"Well now, master," observed Joe, with a half-laugh, "we don't 'zactly
mean for to settle on it, but here we be, an' here we must be, till a
ship takes us off, an' we can't afford to starve, 'ee know, so we'll
just plough the land an' plant our seed, an' hope for good weather an'
heavy crops; so I says Big Island!"

"An' so says I--Big Island for ever!" repeated his brother David.

After a good deal more talk and altercation this was finally agreed to,
and the meeting dissolved itself.

That night, at the darkest hour, another meeting was held in the darkest
spot that could be found near the camp.  It chanced, unknown to the
meeting, to be the burial-ground at first discovered by the Rigondas.

Unwittingly, for it was very dark, Hugh Morris seated himself on one of
the old graves, and about thirty like-minded men gathered round him.
Little did they know that Otto was one of the party!  Our little hero,
being sharp eyed and eared, had seen and overheard enough in the camp
that day to induce him to watch Morris after he left the cave, and
follow him to the rendezvous.

"My lads," said Morris, "I've done my best to keep them to the reef, but
that blackguard Malines won't hear of it.  He's bent on takin' 'em all
to the big island, so they're sure to go, and we won't get the help o'
the other men: but no matter; wi' blocks an' tackle we'll do it
ourselves, so we can afford to remain quiet till our opportunity comes.
I'm quite sure the ship lays in such a position that we can get her over
the ledge into deep water, and so be able to draw round into the open
sea, and then--"

"Hurrah for the black flag and the southern seas," cried one of the
party.

"No, no, Jabez Jenkins," said Morris, "we don't mean to be pirates; only
free rovers."

"Hallo! what's this?" exclaimed another of the party.  "A cross, I do
believe! and this mound--why, it's a grave!"

"And here's another one!" said Jabez, in a hoarse whisper.  "Seems to me
we've got into a cannibal churchyard, or--"

"Bo-o-o-o-oo!" groaned Otto at that moment, in the most horribly
sepulchral tone he could command.

Nothing more was wanted.  With one consent the conspirators leapt up and
fled from the dreadful spot in a frenzy of unutterable consternation.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

TREATS OF BIG ISLAND--A GREAT FIGHT AND A ROYAL FAMILY.

"Dominick," said Otto, next morning, after having solemnly and somewhat
mysteriously led his brother to the old burial-ground, "would you
believe me if I told you that last night, when you and the like of you
were sound asleep, not to say snoring, I saw some twenty or thirty men
fly from this spot like maniacs at the howling of a ghost?"

"No, I would not believe you," answered Dominick, with a bland smile.

"Would you not believe me if I told you that _I_ was the ghost and that
Hugh Morris was the ringleader of the cowards?"

"Come, Otto, be sensible and explain."

Otto became sensible and explained.  Thereupon Dominick became serious,
and said "Oho!"  To which Otto replied "Just so," after which they
became meditative.  Then Dominick linked his arm in that of his little
brother, and, leading him off to a well-known and sequestered walk,
entered into an earnest confabulation.

With the details of that confabulation we will not trouble the reader.
We will only repeat the concluding sentences.

"Well, then, Dom, it's agreed on, that we are to go on as if we knew
nothing about this matter, and take no notice of it whatever to any
one--not even to Pina."

"Yes, Otto, that's it.  Of course I don't like to have any sort of
secret from Pina, but it would be cruel in us to fill her mind with
alarm for no good purpose.  No--mum's the word.  Take no notice
whatever.  Morris may repent.  Give him the benefit of the doubt, or the
hope."

"Very well, Dom, mum shall be the word."

Having thus for the time being disposed of a troublesome subject, the
brothers returned to the place where the emigrants were encamped.

Here all was wild confusion and harmony.  Lest this should appear
contradictory, we must explain that the confusion was only physical, and
addressed to the eye.  The emigrants, who were busy as ants, had already
disembarked large quantities of their goods, which were scattered about
in various heaps between the landing-place and the encampment.  The
harmony, on the other hand, was mental and spiritual, for as yet there
had been no time for conflicting interests to arise, and the people were
all so busy that they had not leisure to disagree.

Besides, the weather being splendidly bright and warm was conducive to
good-humour.  It will be remembered also that Hugh Morris and his
friends had resolved to remain quiet for the present.  Perhaps the
effect of the ghostly visitation might have had some influence in
restraining their turbulent spirits.

At all events, be this as it may, when Dominick and Otto came upon the
scene everything was progressing pleasantly.  The male emigrants were
running between the beach and the camp with heavy burdens on their
shoulders.  The females were busy washing and mending garments, which
stood sorely in need of their attention, or tending the sick and what
Otto styled the infantry.  The sailors were engaged, some in
transporting goods from the wreck to the shore, others in piloting two
of the large boats through the reef into the lagoon, and the larger
children were romping joyously in the thickets and trying to climb the
cocoa-nut trees, while the smaller fry were rolling helplessly on the
sands--watched, more or less, by mothers and big sisters.

Chief among those who piloted the large boats through the passage in the
reef was Hugh Morris.  He took careful observations and soundings as he
went along, not that such were needed for the safety of the boats, but
Hugh Morris had an eye to the ultimate destiny of the ship.

"You're mighty particular, Morris," said Malines, with something of a
sneer in his tone, when the former drew up his boat inside the reef
beside the other boat.  "One would think you were piloting a man-of-war
through instead of a little boat."

"What I was doin' is none o' your business, Malines," returned Hugh,
sternly.  "Your command ceased when you lost your ship, and I ain't
agoin' to obey your orders; no, nor take any of your cheek."

"The emigrants chose to accept me as their commander, at least for the
present," retorted Malines, fiercely.

To this Hugh replied, with a laugh of scorn, that the emigrants might
make a commander of the ship's monkey for all that he cared, the
emigrants were not _his_ masters, and he would do exactly as he pleased.

As a number of his followers echoed the scornful laugh, Malines felt
that he had not the power to carry things with a high hand.

"Well, well," he returned, in a tone of quiet indifference, "we shall
see.  It is quite clear to every one with a grain of sense that people
can't live comfortably under two masters; the people will have to decide
that matter for themselves before long."

"Ay, that will they, master," remarked Joe Binney, in a low but
significant voice.  "Seems to me, however, that as we're all agreed
about goin' over to Big Island, we'd better go about it an' leave
disputation till afterwards."

Agreeing to this in silence, the men set about loading the boats for the
first trip.

Dominick and Otto, standing on the beach, had witnessed this
altercation.

"The seeds of much dissension and future trouble are there," remarked
the former.

"Unless we prevent the growth of the seed," said Otto.

"True, but how that is to be done does not appear obvious at present.
These men have strong wills and powerful frames, and each has a large
following, I can see that.  We must hope that among the emigrants there
may be good and strong men enough to keep the crew in check."

"Luckily two of the biggest and stoutest are also the most sensible,"
said Otto.

"You mean the brothers Binney?"

"Yes, Dom.  They're first-rate men, don't you think so?"

"Undoubtedly; but very ignorant, and evidently unaccustomed to lead or
command men."

"What a pity," exclaimed the boy, with a flush of sudden inspiration,
"that we couldn't make you king of the island!  You're nearly as strong
as the best of them, and much cleverer."

Dominick received this compliment with a laugh and a shake of the head.

"No, my boy; I am not nearly as strong as Malines or Morris, or the
Binneys.  Besides, you forget that `the race is not always to the swift,
nor the battle to the strong,' and as to cleverness, that does not
consist in a superior education or a head crammed full of knowledge, but
in the right and ready application of knowledge.  No; I have no ambition
to be a king.  But it won't do for us to stand here talking, else we
shall be set down as idlers.  Come, let us lend a helping hand."

While the men were busy at the boats on the lagoon side of the reef,
Pauline was winning golden opinions among the women at the camp by the
hearty, unaffected way in which she went about making herself generally
useful.  O blessed simplicity, how adorable art thou in man and woman!
Self-forgetfulness was a salient point in Pauline's character, and,
being conjoined with strong powers of sympathy, active good-will to man
and beast, and more than the average of intellectual capacity, with an
under-current of rippling fun, the girl's influence quickly made itself
felt.

Mrs Lynch said she was a jewel, and that was extraordinary praise from
the strapping widow, who seldom complimented her sex, whatever she may
have felt.  Mrs Welsh said she was a "dear, pritty creetur'," and
laughter-loving little Mrs Nobbs, the wife of a jovial harum-scarum
blacksmith, pronounced her a "perfect darling."  As for the children,
after one hour's acquaintance they adored her, and would have "bored her
to death" had that been possible.  What the men thought of her we cannot
tell, for they spake not, but furtively stared at her in a sort of
reverential amazement, and some of them, in a state of mild enthusiasm,
gave murmured utterance to the sentence quoted above, "Blessed
simplicity!" for Pauline Rigonda was, at first, utterly unaware of the
sensation she created.

When the two boats were loaded down to the gunwales, a select party of
men embarked and rowed them over the calm lagoon to Big Island.  Of
course they were well armed, for no one could tell what they might meet
with there.  Dominick and Otto were of the party, and, being regarded in
some measure as owners of the soil, the former was tacitly recognised as
leader on this their first visit.

The distance they had to row was not more than a quarter of a mile, so
the lagoon was soon crossed.  The spot at which they landed was a
beautiful little bay with bush-topped cliffs on one side, a thicket of
luxuriant plants on the other, and palm groves rising to a moderate
height behind.  The little beach on which they ran the boats was of pure
white sand, which induced one of them to name it Silver Bay.

Jumping out, Dominick, with a dozen armed men, advanced into the bushes
with caution.

"Nothing to be seen here of either friends or foes," he said, halting.
"I felt sure that we should find no one, and it is of no use taking so
many of you from work; therefore, lads, I would advise your returning to
the boats and going to work at once.  My little brother and I will
ascend to the top of the cliff there, from which we will be able to see
all the neighbouring country, and give you timely warning should any
natives appear.  Pile your rifles on the beach, so as to have them
handy; but you've nothing to fear."

In a few minutes Dominick and his brother, each carrying a rifle and
cutlass supplied by the wrecked party, had mounted to the top of the
neighbouring cliff, while the men returned to aid in unloading the
boats.

"What a splendid island!" exclaimed Otto, with intense delight, as, from
the lofty outlook, they gazed down upon a scene of the richest beauty.
From their position on the reef they had hitherto seen the island
through the softening atmosphere of distance, like a rounded mass of
verdure; but in this case distance had _not_ "lent enchantment to the
view," for, now that they beheld it spread in all its luxuriance at
their feet, like a verdant gem resting on the breast of ocean, it
appeared infinitely more beautiful.  Not only was the mind charmed by
the varied details of grove and bay, thicket and grotto, but the eye was
attracted irresistibly to the magnificent trees and shrubs which stood
prominent in their individuality--such as the light and elegant
aito-tree; the stately apape, with its branchless trunk and light crown
of pale green leaves, resembling those of the English ash; the splendid
tamanu, an evergreen, with its laurel-shaped leaves; the imposing
hutu-tree, with foliage resembling the magnolia and its large white
flowers, the petals of which are edged with bright pink;--these and many
others, with the feathery palm and several kinds of mimosa lining the
seashore, presented a display of form and colour such as the brothers
had not up to that time even dreamed of.

While Otto gazed in silent wonder and admiration, he was surprised to
hear Dominick give vent to a sigh, and shake his head.

"Dom!" he said, remonstratively, "what do you mean by that?"

"I mean that the place is such a paradise that the emigrants won't want
to leave it, and that will interfere with a little plan which had begun
to form itself in my brain of late.  I had been thinking that among so
many tradesmen I should find men to help me to break up the wreck, and,
out of the materials, to build a small vessel, with which to leave the
island--for, to tell you the truth, Otto, I have begun to fear that this
place lies so far out of the track of ships that we may be left on it
for many years like the mutineers of Pitcairn Island."

"Humph!  I'm sorry you're growing tired of it already," said Otto; "I
thought you had more o' the spirit of Robinson Crusoe in you, Dom, and I
never heard of the mutineers of Pitcairn Island; but if--"

"What! did you never hear of the mutineers of the _Bounty_?"

"Never.  My education, you know, has been neglected."

"Then I'll tell you the story some time or other.  It's too long to
begin just now, but it beats that of your favourite Robinson out of
sight in my opinion."

Otto shook his head in grave unbelief.  "That," he said, "is impossible.
But as to this island proving so attractive, don't you think that such
fellows as Hugh Morris and Malines will take care to prevent it becoming
too much of a paradise?"

Dominick laughingly admitted that there was something in that--and he
was right.  There was even more in that than he had imagined, for the
party had not been a week in their new home when they began to differ as
to the division of the island.  That old, old story of mighty men
desiring to take possession of the land and push their weaker brethren
to the wall soon began to be re-enacted on this gem of the ocean, and
bade fair to convert the paradise--like the celebrated Monte Carlo--into
a magnificent pandemonium.

At one of their stormy meetings, of which the settlers had many, the
brothers Binney and Dominick were present.  It was held on the shores of
Silver Bay, where the first boat-loads had been discharged, and around
which quite a village of rude huts had sprung up like mushrooms.  From
those disputatious assemblies most of the women absented themselves, but
the widow Lynch always remained, holding herself in reserve for any
emergency, for she was well aware that her opinion carried much weight
with many of the party.

"We're a rough lot, and would need tight handlin'," whispered the little
man named Redding to Joe Binney, who sat on a bank beside him.

"The handlin' will be tight enough before long," returned Joe, with a
decided little nod.  "Listen, the worst o' the lot's agoin' to spout."

This last remark had reference to Malines, who had just risen to reply
to a fiery little man named Buxley, a tailor by trade, who was possessed
not only of good reasoning power but great animal courage, as he had
proved on more than one occasion on the voyage out.

"Friends," said the mate, "it's all very well for Buxley to talk about
fair play, and equal rights, etcetera, but, I ask, would it be fair play
to give each of us an equal portion of land, when it's quite clear that
some--like Joe Binney there--could cultivate twice as much as his share,
while a creature like Buxley--"

"No more a creature than yourself!" shouted the little tailor.

"Could only work up half his lot--if even so much," continued the mate,
regardless of the interruption.

"Hear, hear!" from those who sympathised with Malines.

"An' what could _you_ do with land?" demanded Buxley in a tone of scorn,
"a man that's ploughed nothing but salt water all his life."

This was greeted with a laugh and "That's so."  "He's only sowed wild
oats as yet."  "Pitch into him, Buckie."

Malines was fast losing temper under the little man's caustic remarks,
but succeeded in restraining himself, and went on:--

"It's quite plain that the island is too small to let every man have an
equal bit of land, so I propose that it should be divided among those
who have strength and knowledge to work it, and--"

"_You_ ain't one o' them," shouted the irate tailor.

"Come, come, Buxley--let him speak," said Joe Binney, "fair play, ye
know.  That's what you sticks up for, ain't it?  Let 'im speak."

"Anyhow," continued Malines, sharply, "_I_ mean to keep the bit o'
ground I've staked off whether you like it or no--"

"An' so do I," cried Welsh, who was what may be styled a growly man.

"Sure, an' so does myself," said Teddy Malone, "for I've staked off a
bit about six feet long an' two broad, to plant mesilf in whin I give up
the ghost."

This mild pleasantry seemed to calm a little the rising wrath of
contending parties, much to Dominick's satisfaction, for he was
exceedingly anxious to keep in the background and avoid interference.
During the week that had passed, he had more than once been forced to
have sharp words with Malines, and felt that if he was to act as a
peacemaker--which he earnestly wished to do--he must avoid quarrelling
with him if possible.

The hopes of those who wished to settle matters amicably, however, were
dashed by the fiery tailor, who, still smarting under the contemptuous
tones and words of the mate, suddenly sprang to his feet and suggested
that, as Malines knew nothing about agriculture, no land at all should
be apportioned to him, but that he should be set to fishing, or some
such dirty work, for the benefit of the community.

This was too much for Malines, who strode towards Buxley with clenched
fists and furious looks, evidently intending to knock him down.  To the
surprise and amusement of every one, Buxley threw himself into a
pugilistic attitude, and shouted defiantly, "Come on!"  There is no
saying how the thing would have ended, if Dominick had not quickly
interposed.

"Come, Mr Malines," he said, "it is not very creditable in you to
threaten a man so very much smaller than yourself."

"Out of my road," shouted the mate, fiercely, "we don't want _gentlemen_
to lord it over us."

"No, nor yet _blackguards_," growled a voice in the crowd.

This so angered Malines, that he dealt Dominick a sounding slap on the
cheek.

For a moment there was dead silence, as the two men glared at each
other.  If it had been a blow the youth might have stood it better, but
there was something so stinging, as well as insulting, in a slap, that
for a moment he felt as if his chest would explode.  Before he could
act, however, Joe Binney thrust his bulky form between the men.

"Leave'm to me, master," he said, quietly turning up his wristbands,
"I'm used to this sort o' thing, an'--"

"No, no," said Dominick, in a deep, decided voice, "listen."

He grasped Joe by the arm, and whispered a few words in his ear.  A
smile broke over the man's face, and he shook his head doubtfully.

"Well, it may be so," he remarked, "an' no doubt it would have a good
effect."

"Now, then, stand aside," said Dominick, as he retreated a few paces and
threw off his coat, while Malines still stood in a threatening attitude,
with an expression of contempt on his face.  "My friends," he said, as
he slowly rolled up his shirt-sleeves, showing a pair of arms which,
although not bulky, displayed an amount of sinews and muscle that was
suggestive of knotted ropes under a fair skin--

"My friends," he said, "somewhere in the Bible it is written, `Smite a
scorner, and the simple will beware.'  I have done my best to conciliate
_this_ scorner without success; I shall now try to smite him."

"An' brother David an' me will see fair play," remarked Joe Binney.

If the combatants had been more equally matched, the spectators would
probably have encouraged Dominick with a cheer, but the difference in
size was so apparent, that astonishment kept them silent.  Dominick was
indeed fully as tall as his opponent, and his shoulders were nearly as
broad, but the massive weight of Malines's figure seemed to render the
chance of Dominick's success highly improbable.

The youth sprang at him, however, like lightning, and, hitting him a
violent blow on the forehead, leapt back out of his reach.

The blow had the effect that was intended; it roused the mate's wrath to
the utmost pitch, causing him to rush at his opponent, striking right
and left with all his force.  Dominick, however, leapt about with such
activity, that only a few of the blows reached him, and these not with
their full force.  The result was that the mate became what is styled
winded in a few minutes, and was compelled to pause to recover himself,
but Dominick had no intention of allowing him time to recover himself.
Without a moment's hesitation, he sprang in again and planted a severe
left-hander between his opponent's eyes.  This roused the mate once more
to white heat, and he sought to close with his foe, but the latter
prevented that by leaping aside, tripping him up, and causing him to
plunge forward on his hands and knees--assisting him to that position
with a stiff rap on the right temple as he passed.

Then it was that Malines discovered that he had drawn on himself the
wrath of one who had been the champion boxer in a large public school,
and was quite as tough as himself in wind and limb, though not so strong
or so heavy.

Now, it is not our intention to give a graphic account of that
pugilistic encounter.  Yet is it needful to point out briefly how, being
a man of peace, as well as a man of science, Dominick managed to bring
this fight to as speedy a close as possible.  Instead, then, of striking
his foe in all directions, and producing a disgusting scene of
bloodshed, he confined his practice chiefly to one spot, between the
eyes, close above the bridge of the nose--varying it a little with a
shot now and then under each eye.  This had the effect, owing to
constant repetition, of gradually shutting up both Malines's eyes so
that he could not easily see.  When in this condition, Dominick suddenly
delivered first a left and then a right hander into what is sometimes
called the breadbasket, and stretched his adversary on the sand.

Dominick was not boastful or ungenerous.  He did not crow over his
fallen foe.  On the contrary, he offered to assist that smitten scorner
to rise, but Malines preferred in the meantime to lie still.

It is scarcely necessary to say that the emigrants watched this short
but sharp encounter with keen interest, and when it was ended gave vent
to a cheer, in which surprise was quite as clearly expressed as
satisfaction.

"Now, I tell 'ee what it is, lads," said Joe Binney, striking his great
right fist into the palm of his left hand enthusiastically, "I never
seed the likes o' that since I was a leetle booy, and I've got a motion
for to propose, as they say at meetin's.  It's this, that we makes
Master Dom'nik Riggundy capting over us all."

Up started Teddy Malone, with a slap of his thigh.  "And it's mesilf
as'll second that motion--only we should make him governor of the whole
island, if not king!"

"Hear! hear!" shouted a decided majority of the party.  "Let him be
king!"

When silence had been partially restored Dominick politely but firmly
declined the honour, giving it as his opinion that the fairest way would
be to have a republic.

"A republic!  No; what we wants is a despotism," said David Binney, who
had up to this point remained silent, "a regular despot--a howtocrat--is
what we wants to keep us in order."

"Hump!" exclaimed Hugh Morris, contemptuously, "if you'd on'y let
Malines have his way you'd soon have a despot an' a howtocrat as 'ud
keep yer noses to the grindstone."

"Mrs Lynch," whispered Otto, who had hitherto stood beside the widow
watching the proceedings with inexpressible glee, "you get up an'
propose that Pina should be _queen_!"

That this suggestion came upon the widow with a shock of surprise, as
well as approval, was obvious from the wide-eyed stare, with which for a
moment she regarded the boy, and from her subsequent action.  Taking a
bold and masculine stride to the front of the disputers, she turned
about and faced them.

"Howld yer tongues now, boys, all of you, and listen to what your
grandmother's got to say."

A shout of laughter cut her short for a few seconds.

"That's right, old 'ooman, out with it."

"Sure, if ye'd stop your noise I'd out wid it fast enough.  Now, then,
here ye are, nivver a man of ye able to agree wid the others; an' the
raisin's not far to seek--for yer all wrong togither.  It would nivver
do to make wan o' you a king--not even Joe here, for he knows nixt to
nothin', nor yet Mister Rig Gundy, though he can fight like a man, for
it's not a king's business to fight.  No, take my word for it; what ye
want is a _queen_--"

A loud explosion of mirth drowned the rest.  "Hurrah! for Queen Lynch,"
cried one.  "The Royal blood of owld Ireland for ivver!" shouted Malone.

"I wouldn't," said the widow indignantly, "condescind to reign over
sitch a nation o' pigs, av ye was to go down on yer bare knees an'
scrape them to the bone.  No, it's English blood, or Spanitch, I don't
rightly know which, that I'm drivin' at, for where could ye find a
better, or honester, or purtier queen than that swate creetur, Miss
Pauline Rig Gundy?"

The idea seemed to break upon the assembly as a light in a dark place.
For a moment they seemed struck dumb; then there burst forth such a
cheer as showed that the greater part of those present sympathised
heartily with the proposal.

"I know'd ye'd agree to it.  Sure, men always does when a sensible woman
spakes.  You see, Queen Pauline the First--"

"Hurrah! for Queen Pauline the First," yelled the settlers, with mingled
cheers and laughter.

"Queen Pauline the First, ye may be sure," continued the widow, "would
nivver try to kape order wid her fists, nor yit wid shoutin' or
swearin'.  An' then, av coorse, it would be aisy to make Mister Duminick
or Joe Binney Prime Minister, an' little Buxley Chancler o' the
Checkers, or whatever they calls it.  Now, think over it, boys, an' good
luck be wid ye."

They did think over it, then and there, in real earnest, and the
possibility of an innocent, sensible, gentle, just, sympathetic, and
high-minded queen reigning over them proved so captivating to these
rough fellows, that the idea which had been at first received in jest
crystallised into a serious purpose.  At this point Otto ventured to
raise his voice in this first deliberation of the embryo State.

"Friends," he said, with an air of modesty, which, we fear, was foreign
to his nature, "although I can only appear before you as a boy, my big
brother has this day proved himself to be so much more than an ordinary
man that I feel somehow as if I had a right to his surplus manhood,
being next-of-kin, and therefore I venture to address you as a sort of
man."  (Hear, hear!) "I merely wish to ask a question.  May I ask to be
the bearer of the news of this assembly's determination to--the--the
_Queen_?"

"Yes--yes--of course--av course," were the immediate replies.

Otto waited not for more, but sped to their new hut, in which the Queen
was busy preparing dinner at the time.

"Pina," exclaimed the boy, bursting in, "will you consent to be the
Queen of Big Island?"

"Come, Otto; don't talk nonsense.  I hope Dom is with you.  Dinner is
much overdone already."

"No, but I'm not talking nonsense," cried Otto.  "I say, will you
consent to be a queen--a _real_ queen--Pina the First, eh?"

Hereupon he gave his wondering sister a graphic account of the recent
meeting, and fight, and final decision.

"But they don't really mean it, you know," said Pauline, laughing.

"But they do really mean it," returned Otto; "and, by the way, if _you_
become a queen won't that necessarily make me and Dom princes?"

As Dominick entered the hut at that moment he joined in the laugh which
this question created, and corroborated his brother's statement.

In this cheerful frame of mind the new Royal Family sat down to dinner.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE CORONATION--CROWN-MAKING DELIBERATIONS, CEREMONIALS, AND
CATASTROPHES.

There came a day, not many weeks later in the history of our emigrants,
when great preparations were made for an important and unusual event.

This was neither more nor less than the coronation of Queen Pauline the
First.

The great event had been delayed by the unfortunate illness of the elect
queen herself--an illness brought on by reckless exposure in the pursuit
of the picturesque and beautiful among the islets of the lagoon.  In
other words, Otto and she, when off on a fishing and sketching excursion
in the dinghy of the wreck, had been caught in a storm and drenched to
the skin.  The result to Otto was an increase of appetite; to Pauline, a
sharp attack of fever, which confined her for some time to the palace,
as their little hut was now styled.  Here the widow Lynch--acting the
united parts of nurse, lady of the bedchamber, mistress of the robes,
maid of honour, _chef de cuisine_, and any other office that the reader
may recollect as belonging to royalty--did so conduct herself as to gain
not only the approval but the affection and gratitude of her royal
mistress.

During the period of Pauline's convalescence considerable changes had
taken place in the circumstances and condition of the community.  The
mere fact that a government had been fixed on, the details of which were
being wrought out by a committee of leading men appointed by the people,
tended to keep the turbulent spirits pretty quiet, and enabled the
well-disposed to devote all their strength of mind and body to the
various duties that devolved upon them and the improving of their
circumstances.  Busy workers are usually peaceful.  They have no time to
quarrel.  It is only when turbulent idlers interfere with or oppress
them that the industrious are compelled to show their teeth and set up
their backs.

During these weeks the appearance of the shores of Big Island began to
change materially.  All round the edge of Silver Bay a number of bright
green patches were enclosed by rough but effective fences.  These were
the gardens of the community, in which sweet potatoes, yams, etcetera,
grew spontaneously, while some vegetables of the northern hemisphere had
already been sown, and were in some cases even beginning to show above
ground.  In these gardens, when the important work of planting had been
finished, the people set about building huts of various shapes and
sizes, according to their varying taste and capacity.

Even at this early stage in the life of the little community the
difficulties which necessarily surround a state of civilisation began to
appear, and came out at one of the frequent, though informal, meetings
of the men on the sands of Silver Bay.  It happened thus:--

It was evening.  The younger and more lively men of the community,
having a large store of surplus energy unexhausted after the labours of
the day, began, as is the wont of the young and lively, to compete with
one another in feats of agility and strength, while a group of their
elders stood, sat, or reclined on a bank, discussing the affairs of the
nation, and some of them enjoying their pipes--for, you see, everything
in the wreck having been saved, they had, among other bad things, plenty
of tobacco.

Dr Marsh sat among the elders, for, although several weeks on shore had
greatly restored his health, he was still too weak to join in the
athletics.  A few of the women and children also looked on, but they
stood aside by themselves, not feeling very much interested in the
somewhat heated discussions of the men.

By degrees these discussions degenerated into disputes, and became at
last so noisy that the young athletes were attracted, and some of them
took part in the debates.

"I tell 'ee what it is," exclaimed Nobbs, the blacksmith, raising his
powerful voice above the other voices, and lifting his huge fist in the
air, "something'll have to be done, for I can't go on workin' for
nothin' in this fashion."

"No more can I, or my mates," said Abel Welsh, the carpenter.

"Here comes the Prime Minister," cried Teddy Malone.

"To _be_--he ain't Prime Minister yet," growled Jabez Jenkins, who,
being a secret ally of Hugh Morris, was one of the disaffected, and had,
besides, a natural tendency to growl and object to everything.

"He _is_ Prime Minister," cried the fiery little Buxley, starting up and
extending his hand with the air of one who is about to make a speech.
"No doubt the Queen ain't crowned yet, an' hasn't therefore appointed
any one to be her Minister, but we know she means to do it and we're all
agreed about it."

"No we ain't," interrupted Jenkins, angrily.

"Well, the most on us, then," retorted Buxley.

"Shut up, you radical!" said Nobbs, giving the tailor a facetious slap
on the back, "an' let's hear what the Prime Minister himself has got to
say about it."

"What is the subject under discussion?" inquired Dominick, who, with
Otto, joined the group of men at the moment and flung down a basket of
fine fish which he had just caught in the lagoon.

He turned to Dr Marsh for an answer.

"Do _you_ explain your difficulties," said the doctor to the blacksmith.

"Well, sir," said Nobbs, "here's where it is.  When I fust comed ashore
an' set up my anvil an' bellows I went to work with a will, enjyin' the
fun o' the thing an' the novelty of the sitivation; an' as we'd lots of
iron of all kinds I knocked off nails an' hinges an' all sorts o' things
for anybody as wanted 'em.  Similarly, w'en Abel Welsh comed ashore he
went to work with his mates at the pit-saw an' tossed off no end o'
planks, etceterer.  But you see, sir, arter a time we come for to find
that we're workin' to the whole population for nothin', and while
everybody else is working away at his own hut or garden, or what not,
_our_ gardens is left to work themselves, an' _our_ huts is nowhere!
Now, as we've got no money to pay for work with, and as stones an'
shells won't answer the purpus--seein' there's a sight too much of 'em--
the question is, what's to be done?"

"Not an easy question to answer, Nobbs," said Dominick, "and one that
requires serious consideration.  Perhaps, instead of trying to answer it
at present, we might find a temporary expedient for the difficulty until
a Committee of the House--if I may say so--shall investigate the whole
problem."  (Hear, hear from Malone, Redding, and Buxley, and a growl
from Jenkins.) "I would suggest, then, in the meantime, that while Nobbs
and Welsh,--who are, perhaps, the most useful men among us--continue to
ply their trades for the benefit of the community, every man in the
community shall in turn devote a small portion of time to working in the
gardens and building the huts of these two men."  (Hear, hear, from a
great many of the hearers, and dissenting growls from a few.) "But,"
continued Dominick, "as there are evidently some here who are not of an
obliging disposition, and as the principle of willing service lies at
the root of all social felicity, I would further suggest that, until our
Queen is crowned and the Government fairly set up, all such labour shall
be undertaken entirely by volunteers."

This proposal was agreed to with boisterous acclaim, and nearly the
whole community volunteered on the spot.  While this little difficulty
was being overcome, Pauline lay sleeping in the palace hard by, and the
enthusiastic cheer with which the conclusion of Dominick's speech was
received awoke her.

"There--I know'd they'd do it!" exclaimed the lady of the bedchamber
fiercely; "lie still, cushla! an' shut your purty eyes.  Maybe you'll
drop off again!"

A humorous smile beamed in Pauline's countenance and twinkled in her
eyes.

"Thank you, dear nurse, I've had enough of sleep.  Indeed, I begin to
feel so strong that I think I shall very soon be able to undergo that--"

Pauline stopped and burst into a fit of merry laughter.

"It's that caronation, now, ye'll be thinkin' av?" said the widow Lynch,
with a reproving look.  "Faix, it's no laughin' matter ye'll find it,
dear.  It's onaisy is the hid as wears a crown."

"Why you talk, nurse, as if you had worn one yourself, and knew all
about its troubles."

"Sure, av I didn't, me progenissors did, in Munster, before you English
konkered us an' turned us topsy-turvy.  But nivver mind.  I don't bear
no ill-will to 'ee, darlint, bekaise o' the evil deeds o' yer
forefathers.  I'm of a forgivin' disposition.  An' it's a good quane
you'll make, too, av ye don't let the men have too much o' their own
way.  But I do think that you an' me togither'll be more than a match
for them all.  D'ee think ye could stand the caronation now, dear?"

"Yes, I think I could.  But really, you know, I find it so hard to
believe it is not all a joke, despite the grave deputations that have
waited on me, and the serious arguments they have used.  The idea of
making me--_Me_--a Queen!"

Again Pauline Rigonda gave way to merry laughter, and again did her lady
of the bedchamber administer a reproof by expressing the hope that she
might take the matter as lightly a year hence.

This pertinacious reference to possible trouble being mingled with the
contemplated honour checked Pauline's disposition to laugh, and she had
quite recovered her gravity when her brother Otto entered.

"Pina, I've come to tell you that they've fixed the coronation for
Monday next if you feel up to it, and that the new palace is begun--a
very different one, let me tell you, from this wretched affair with its
tumble-down walls and low roof."

"Indeed--is it so very grand?"

"Grand!  I should think it is.  Why, it has got three rooms--_three_
rooms--think o' that!  Not countin' a splendid out-house stuck on
behind, about ten feet square and over six feet high.  Each of the three
rooms is twelve feet long by ten broad; seven feet high, and papered
with palm leaves.  The middle one is the hall of Audience and Justice--
or injustice if you like--the Council Chamber, the House of Parliament,
the mess-room, and the drawing-room.  The one on the right with two
windows, from which are magnificent views, is your Majesty's
sleeping-room and boudoir; that on the left is the ditto of Prime
Minister Dominick and his Chief Secretary Prince Otto.  The sort of
hen-coop stuck on behind is to be the abode of the Court Physician, Dr
John Marsh--whom, by the way, you'll have to knight--and with whom is to
be billeted the Court Jester, Man-at-Arms, Man-of-all-work and general
retainer, little Buxley.  So, you see, it's all cut and dry, though of
course it will take some little time to finish the palace in all its
multitudinous details.  Meanwhile I have been sent to sound you as to
Monday next.  Will you be able and ready?"

"If I could only get myself to believe," answered Pauline, as she leaned
on one elbow on her couch, and toyed contemplatively with a fold of the
shawl that covered her, "that the people are really in earnest, I--"

"Really in earnest!" repeated Otto.  "Why, Pina, never were people more
in earnest in this world.  If you'd heard and seen them talking about it
as I have, you'd not doubt their earnestness.  Besides, you have no idea
how needful you are to the community.  The fact is, it is composed of
such rough and rowdy elements--though of course there are some
respectable and well-principled fellows among them--that nothing short
of a power standing high above them and out o' their reach will have any
influence with them at all.  There are so many strong, determined, and
self-willed men amongst them that there's no chance of their ever
agreeing to submit to each other; so, you see, you are a sort of good
angel, before whom they will be only too glad to bow--a kind of superior
being, whom they will reverence, and to whom they will submit--a human
safety-valve, in short, to prevent the community from blowing up--a
species of--of--"

Here Pauline burst into another of her irrepressible fits of laughter,
and being joined therein by Prince Otto, called forth a remonstrance
from Mrs Lynch, who declared that if that was the way they were goin'
to manage the affairs of state, she would be obliged to advise the
settlers to change their minds and set up a republic.

"An' sure, mother," said Otto, who was a privileged favourite, "nothing
could be better, with yourself as President."

"Go along wid ye, boy, an' do yer dooty.  Tell the people that Miss
Pauline will be ready--wind an' weather permittin'."

"Am I to take back that message, Pina?" asked Otto, with a look of glee.

"Well, I suppose you may."

It was not in the nature of things that a coronation in the
circumstances which we have described should take place without being
more or less intermingled with the unavoidable absurdities which mark
the coronations of older and more densely peopled lands.  It was felt
that as the act was a seriously meant reality, and no mere joke, it
should be gone about and accomplished with all due solemnity and proper
ceremonial, somewhat after the pattern--as Teddy Malone suggested--of a
Lord Mayor's Show; a suggestion, by the way, which did not conduce to
the solemnity of the preliminary discussions.

There was one great difficulty, however, with which the embryo nation
had to contend, and this was that not one of the community had ever seen
a coronation, or knew how the details of the matter should be arranged.

In these circumstances an assembly of the entire nation was convened to
consider the matter.  As this convention embraced the women (except, of
course, the queen elect), it included the babies, and as most of these
were self-assertive and well-developed in chest and throat, it was found
necessary to relegate them and the women to an outer circle, while the
men in an inner circle tackled the problem.

The widow Lynch, being quite irrepressible except by physical force, and
even by that with difficulty, was admitted on sufferance to the inner
circle, and took part in the discussions.

Like most large assemblies, this one was found so unmanageable, that,
after an hour or two of hopeless wrangling, Buxley the tailor started up
with dishevelled hair and glaring eyeballs, and uttered a yell that
produced a momentary silence.  Seizing the moment, he said--

"I moves that we apint a committee to inquire into the whole matter an'
report."

"Hear, hear, and well said!" shouted a multitude of voices.

"An' _I_ moves," cried Mrs Lynch, starting forward with both arms up
and all her fingers rampant, "that--"

"No, no, mother," interrupted Buxley, "you must second the motion."

"Howld yer tongue, ye dirty spalpeen!  Isn't it the second motion that
I'm puttin'?  _I_ moves that the committee is Mr Dumnik Rig Gundy an'
Dr Marsh--"

"An' _Mister_ Nobbs," shouted a voice.

"An' _Mister_ Joe Binney," said another.

"An' _little_ Mister Buxley, be way of variashun," cried Teddy Malone.

"An' Mistress Lynch, for a change," growled Jabez Jenkins.

"Hear, hear!  No, no!  Hurrah!  Nonsense!  Howld yer tongue!  Be
serious!"--gradually drowned in a confusion of tongues with a yelling
accompaniment from infantry in the outer circle.

It was finally agreed, however, that the arrangements for the coronation
should be left entirely to a committee composed of Dominick, Dr Marsh,
Joe Binney, and Hugh Morris--Joe being put forward as representing the
agricultural interest, and Hugh the malcontents.  Teddy Malone was added
to make an odd number, "for there's luck in odd numbers," as he himself
remarked on accepting office.

Immediately after the general meeting broke up, these five retired to
the privacy of a neighbouring palm grove, where, seated on a verdant and
flowering bank, they proceeded calmly to discuss details.

"You see, my friends," said Dominick, "it must be our most earnest
endeavour to carry out this important matter in a serious and
business-like manner.  Already there is too much of a spirit of levity
among the people, who seem to look at the whole affair as a sort of game
or joke, playing, as it were, at national life, whereas we actually
_are_ an independent nation--"

"A small wan, av coorse," murmured Malone.

"Yes, a small one, but not the less real on that account, so that we are
entitled to manage our own affairs, arrange our own government, and,
generally, to act according to our united will.  These islands and their
surroundings are unknown--at least they are not put down on any chart; I
believe we have discovered them.  There are no inhabitants to set up a
counter claim; therefore, being entitled to act according to our will,
our appointment of a queen to rule us--under limited powers, to be
hereafter well considered and clearly written down--is a reality; not a
mere play or semi-jest to be undone lightly when the fancy takes us.
That being so, we must go to work with gravity and earnestness of
purpose."

Teddy Malone, who was an impressionable creature, here became so
solemnised that his lengthening visage and seriously wrinkled brow
rendered gravity--especially on the part of Dr Marsh--almost
impossible.

Overcoming his feelings with a powerful effort the doctor assented to
what Dominick said, and suggested that some mild sort of ceremonial
should be devised for the coronation, in order to impress the beholders
as well as to mark the event.

"That's so," said Teddy Malone, "somethin' quiet an' orderly, like an
Irish wake, or--.  Ah! then ye needn't smile, doctor.  It's the quietest
an' most comfortin' thing in life is an Irish wake whin it's gone about
properly."

"But we don't want comforting, Teddy," said Dominick, "it is rather a
subject for rejoicing."

"Well, then, what's to hinder us rejoicin' in comfort?" returned Teddy.
"At all the wakes I ivver attinded there was more rejoicin' than
comfortin' goin' on; but that's a matter of taste, av coorse."

"There'll have to be a crown o' some sort," remarked Hugh Morris.

"You're right, lad," said Joe Binney.  "It wouldn't do to make it o'
pasteboard, would it?  P'r'aps that 'ud be too like playin' at a game,
an' tin would be little better."

"What else can we make it of, boys?" said Malone, "we've got no goold
here--worse luck! but maybe the carpenter cud make wan o' wood.  With a
lick o' yellow paint it would look genuine."

"Nonsense, Teddy," said the doctor, "don't you see that in this life men
should always be guided by circumstances, and act with propriety.  Here
we are on an island surrounded by coral reefs, going to elect a queen;
what more appropriate than that her crown should be made of coral."

"The very thing, doctor," cried Malone, with emphasis, "och! it's the
genius ye have!  There's all kinds o' coral, red and white, an' we could
mix it up wi' some o' that fine-coloured seaweed to make it purty."

"It could be made pritty enough without seaweed," said Binney, "an' it's
my notion that the women-folk would be best at makin' of it."

"Right, Joe, right, so, if you have no objection, we will leave it to
them," said Dominick, "and now as to the ceremonial?"

"A pursession," suggested Joe Binney.

"Just so," said Hugh Morris, "the very thing as was in my mind."

"And a throne," cried Malone, "there couldn't be a proper quane widout a
throne, you know.  The carpenter can make that, anyhow, for there's wood
galore on the island--red, black, an' white.  Yis, we must have a grand
throne, cut, an' carved, an' mounted high, so as she'll have two or
three steps to climb up to it."

In regard to the procession and the throne there was considerable
difference of opinion, but difficulties were got over and smoothed down
at last by the tact and urbanity of Domini

Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/21741