‘Then again these strands, now coral, now lava-black, argue repeated eruptions.’
‘We hear of submarine outbursts of extraordinary violence.’
‘Iceland, says Sir Joseph Banks, is blessed not only with birds so remarkable as the gerfalcon, the harlequin duck and both phalaropes, but also with sensible volcanic phenomena at virtually all seasons.’
There is something I do not like about that village,’ said Jack. ‘Wainwright spoke of it as full of people – crowded -and now there are very few walking about. And they are only women and children with here and there an old man; the canoes are all drawn up, most of them high up.’
Pullings was digesting this, and the absence of nets spread out to dry, when two girls, helped by a band of children, slid a small two-hulled canoe down the sand and put off, the girls managing the immense sail with no apparent difficulty, steering very close to the wind and travelling with extraordinary speed.
Jack heaved himself out of the deep crow’s nest: the top-gallantmasts gave a warning creak. ‘Take care, sir,’ cried Pull-ings: Jack frowned, let himself gently down to the cross-
trees, reaching out for a standing backstay and shot down to the quarterdeck like a well-controlled meteor, landing with a thump and hands just this side the scorching-point. ‘Pass the word for Owen,’ he said; and to Owen, ‘Hail the canoe in South Seas as it approaches the narrows: hail it very civil.’
‘Very civil it is, sir,’ said Owen. Yet he had no time to make his compliment, for in their friendly Polynesian way the girls hailed them first, smiling up and waving a free hand.
‘Ask them to come aboard,’ said Jack. ‘Mention feathers, coloured handkerchiefs.’
Words passed, but the girls, though amused and half-tempted by feathers and coloured handkerchiefs, did not choose to come up the side; and to be sure, the few visible Surprises looked deeply unappetizing. Nevertheless they stayed long enough to make three rings about the ship, handling their craft with a skill that was a joy to behold, and to answer the question ‘Where is the FranklinV ‘Gone to chase a ship.’ ‘Where are all the men?’ ‘Gone to war. Kalahua is going to eat Queen Puolani: he has taken the gun.’
Their third remark, though shrill and high, was uttered by both at once and much of what might have been comprehensible was lost in the wind as they sped off; but it seemed to tell the Surprises, who at this point were sailing under American colours, that they would find their friend in Eeahu when the Franklin had caught her ship.
‘The Truelove is lowering down a boat, sir,’ said Pullings.
An eight-oared cutter: and although some of those that lowered it were sailors, those that came down into the stern-sheets were obviously landsmen. Jack considered them and their ship, their thinly-manned ship, for some time as the cutter made its way from the shore. ‘Mr West,’ he said, ‘let all boats be ready at a moment’s notice. Mr Davidge,’ –
calling down the hatch – ‘stand by.’ Davidge was in command of the flying column, armed and prepared for any emergency that might arise and kept below decks, where they fairly stifled.
He then recovered the kedge, hauled the sheet aft and stood on through the narrows, looking very attentively at the country between the village and the mountains, where the stream came towards the harbour.
When the cutter was within hail a man stood up, fell down, stood up again holding the coxswain’s shoulder and called ‘What ship is that?” in an approximately American voice, drawing his face in a sideways contortion to do so.
‘The Titus Oates. Where is Mr Dutourd?’
‘Gone a-chasing. He will join us in Eeahu in three-four days. Do you have any tobacco?
Any wine?’
‘Sure. Come aboard.’ With the wheel in his own hands Jack stood on past the cutter and turned so that the Surprise lay between the boat and the shore; speaking to the quartermaster, one of the few hands on deck, he said quietly ‘When they hook on, hoist our own colours.’ It was a sophistry: the colours, streaming directly towards the shore, would be seen neither by the Truelove nor by a boat attached to the Surprise’s windward mainchains. But certain forms had to be observed.
The man who hailed and three others from the stern-sheets came awkwardly up. They had pistols in their belts; so had the man they left behind. They were not seamen; the canvas strips that concealed most of the ship’s guns did not surprise them, nor did her whaling gear, improbable when seen close at hand.
‘The Liberator said we should soon have wine and tobacco,’ said the leader, smiling as pleasantly as he could.
‘Mr West,’ said Jack, ‘pray tell Mr Davidge that these gentlemen are to be properly served.
Bilboes in the forehold might be most suitable. Go with him, Bonden,’ he added, feeling that perhaps West might not quite have grasped the point of the last murmured words.
In point of fact everybody aboard, apart from these wretched white or whitish mercenaries, was aware of Captain Aubrey’s motions, even Stephen and Martin, newly arrived from the mizentop; and when Jack, seeing Bonden return with a satisfied smile, said in an undertone, ‘Doctor, pray get that ugly fellow in the sternsheets to come aboard,’ he needed no explanation but called out in French, asking for news of Monsieur Dutourd’s health and suggesting that the man should climb carefully up the side with a mariner or two capable of carrying heavy weights. One of the mariners he pointed to, stroke oar, had been gazing up for some time very earnestly, making discreet nods and becks, and Stephen was almost sure he was one of a thousand former patients.
The mercenary came up with no further persuasion and stroke oar after him. The seaman having saluted the quarterdeck instantly gave the mercenary a truly frightful kick that hurled him with stunning force against the capstan. Bonden took his pistol away as though they had practised the act for weeks; and the seaman, turning to Jack, pulled off his hat and said ‘William Hoskins, sir, armourer’s mate mPolychrest, now belonging to the Truelove.’
‘I am heartily glad to see you again, Hoskins,’ said Jack, shaking his hand. ‘Tell me, are there many other Frenchmen in the Truelove?’
‘About a score, sir. They was left behind to keep us at work and to stop the natives from stealing when the others went off to war with Kalahua. They cut capers over us something cruel, and spoke sarcastic, those that could speak any English.’
‘Are the rest of the boat’s crew Trueloves?’
‘All but the coxswain, sir; and I dare say they have scragged him by now. A right bastard: he killed our skipper.’
Jack glanced over the side, and there indeed were the True-loves busily, silently, drowning the coxswain. From a sense of duty Jack called out ‘Belay, there,’ and they belayed, coming aboard as nimbly as cats for a glass of grog, served out on the half-deck.
‘We smoked you was no right whaler from the shore,’ said one of them to Killick. ‘But did we tell them infernal buggers? No, mate, we did not.’
During this time the Surprise had let fall her topsail and she was making for an anchorage close inshore on the south side of the harbour. The cutter was towing alongside and her own boats were in a high state of readiness for lowering down. ‘Mr Davidge,’ said Jack, ‘it is of the first importance that you and your men should be on that road into the mountains, that road by the stream, before any of the Frenchmen from the Truelove. They are almost certain to run once we show them our guns, and if they get to Kalahua we are dished. He and his men are only a day’s march away – perhaps not so much seeing they are trying to drag a gun.’
Even in a frigate as well worked-up as the Surprise the order ‘man and arm boats’ was rarely carried out in under twenty-five minutes, the system of tackles to the fore and main yardarms being so cumbrous; and the launch was scarcely in the water before the Frenchmen in the Truelove had grown suspicious. They were gathering on the shore and moving through the village southwards along the stream, carrying bundles.
The launch and blue cutter were already full of men, however, and Jack called ‘Go ahead with what you have, Mr Davidge, and do your best to hold them until the rest come up.’
‘I shall do my very best, sir,’ said Davidge, looking up and smiling. ‘Shove off. Give way.’
The boats raced for the shore and ran far up the sand; the men bundled out, holding their muskets high, and almost at once they disappeared into the tree-ferns.
When the other cutter and the gig were on their way Jack hurried up into the foretop. The deep belt of tree-ferns thinned out to a country of tall grass scattered with bushes and small but very thick patches of wood, full of lianas. The column could be seen here and there, still in reasonable formation, but much drawn-out, the leading men doing their best to keep up with the extraordinarily agile Davidge. Their muskets gleamed in the sun, and their cutlasses as they slashed at the lianas and the undergrowth.