It was not
epicurism, however, or a love of the stomach, that induced him to defer
his explanations on the present occasion. He saw that Mark must hear
what he had to relate gradually, and was not sorry that the recognition
of the negro had prepared him to expect something wonderful. Wonderful
it was, indeed; and at last Betts, having finished his dinner, and given
half-a-dozen preparatory hints, in order to lessen the intensity of his
young friend's feelings, yielded to an appeal from the other's eyes, and
commenced his narrative. Bob told his story, as a matter of course,
with a great deal of circumlocution, and in his own language. There was
a good deal of unnecessary prolixity in it, and some irrelative
digressions touching currents, and the trades, and the weather; but, on
the whole, it was given intelligibly, and with sufficient brevity for
one who devoured every syllable he uttered. The reader, however, would
most probably prefer to hear an abridgement of the tale in our own
words.
When Robert Betts was driven off the Reef, by the hurricane of the
preceding year, he had no choice but to let the Neshamony drive to
leeward with him. As soon as he could, he got the pinnace before the
wind, and, whenever he saw broken water ahead, he endeavoured to steer
clear of it. This he sometimes succeeded in effecting; while at others
he passed through it, or over it, at the mercy of the tempest.
Fortunately the wind had piled up the element in such a way as to carry
the craft clear of the rocks, and in three hours after the Neshamony was
lifted out of her cradle, she was in the open ocean, to leeward of all
the dangers. It blew too hard, however, to make sail on her, and Bob was
obliged to scud until the gale broke. Then, indeed, he passed a week in
endeavouring to beat back and rejoin his friend, but without success,
'losing all he made in the day, while asleep at night.' Such, at least,
was Bob's account of his failure to find the Reef again; though Mark
thought it probable that he was a little out in his reckoning, and did
not look in exactly the right place for it.
At the end of this week high land was made to leeward, and Betts ran
down for it, in the hope of finding inhabitants. In this last
expectation, however, he did not succeed. It was a volcanic mountain, of
a good many resources, and of a character not unlike that of Vulcan's
Peak, but entirely unpeopled. He named it after his old ship, and passed
several days on it. On describing its appearance, and its bearings from
the place where they then were, Mark had no doubt it was the island that
was visible from the peak near them, and at which he had been gazing
that very afternoon, for fully an hour with longing eyes. On describing
its form to Bob, the latter coincided in this opinion, which was in fact
the true one.
From the highest point of Rancocus Island, land was to be seen to the
northward and westward, and Bob now determined to make the best of his
way in that direction, in the hope of falling in with some vessel after
sandal-wood or bêche-le-mar. He fell in with a group of low islands, of
a coral formation, about a hundred leagues from his volcanic mountain,
and on them he found inhabitants. These. people were accustomed to see
white men, and turned out to be exceedingly mild and just. It is
probable that they connected the sudden appearance of a vessel like the
Neshamony, having but one man in it, with some miraculous interposition
of their gods, for they paid Bob the highest honours, and when he
landed, solemnly tabooed his sloop. Bob was a long-headed fellow in the
main, and was not slow to perceive the advantage of such a ceremony, and
encouraged it. He also formed a great intimacy with the chief,
exchanging names and rubbing noses with him. This chief was styled
Betto, after the exchange, and Bob was called Ooroony by the natives.
Ooroony stayed a month with Betto, when he undertook a voyage with him
in a large canoe, to another group, that was distant two or three
hundred miles, still further to the northward, and where Bob was told he
should find a ship. This account proved to be true, the ship turning out
to be a Spaniard, from South America, engaged in the pearl fishery, and
on the eve of sailing for her port. From some misunderstanding with the
Spanish captain, that Bob never comprehended and of course could not
explain, and which he did not attempt to explain, Betto left the group
in haste, and without taking leave of his new friend, though he sent him
a message of apology, one-half of which was lost on Bob, in consequence
of not understanding the language. The result was, however, to satisfy
the latter that his friend was quite as sorry to abandon him, as he
was glad to get away from the Spanish captain.
This desertion left Betts no choice between remaining on the pearl
island, or of sailing in the brig, which went to sea next day. He
decided to do the last. In due time he was landed at Panama, whence he
made his way across the isthmus, actually reaching Philadelphia in less
than five months after he was driven off the Reef. In all this he was
much favoured by circumstances; though an old salt, like Bob, will
usually make his way where a landsman would be brought up.
The owners of the Rancocus gave up their ship, as soon as Betts had told
his story, manifesting no disposition to send good money after bad. They
looked to the underwriters, and got Bob to make oath to the loss of the
vessel; which said oath, by the way, was the ground-work of a law-suit
that lasted Friend Abraham White as long as he lived. Bob next sought
Bridget with his tale.
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