Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 68, No 420, October 1850Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 68, No 420, October 1850
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
a plash on the beach that you could hear: the place was just what a
sailor may have had a notion of all his life, without exactly seeing it
till then; and though, as yet, one had but a rough guess of its size,
why, it couldn't be less than a couple of miles from end to end, with
more than that breadth, perhaps, at the low side toward the reefs. Not
a soul amongst the man-o'-war'smen, I daresay, as they pressed together
in the schooner's bows to see into it, but would have taken his traps
that moment, if I'd told him, and gone ashore on the chance of passing
his days there; so it wasn't hard to conceive, from the state it seemed
to put their rough sunburnt faces in, honest as they looked, how a
similar fancy would work with Master Harry Foster, even if it tried his
virtue a little.
I had no more doubt in my own mind, by this time, of it's being
the fellow's intended "hermitage," than I had of it's being the
same White-water Island I had heard of myself, or the spot which
Jones seemed to know so well: 'twas likely the foremast-man had got
inkling of it somewhat in the way I did; and lying, as it happened
to do, between no less than three channels which the Indiaman might
take, after dodging us in this fashion round the long cluster of
the Maldives, she couldn't make north-westward again for the open
sea, without setting Foster and his mates pretty well upon their
trip. Indeed, if she were to eastward of the chain at present, as I
was greatly inclined to believe, the course of the breeze made it
impossible for her to do otherwise; but there was one thing always
kept lurking about my mind, like a cover to something far worse that
I didn't venture to dwell upon--namely, that Captain Finch might get
wind of their purpose, and drive them on another tack by knocking it
on the head, either at the time or beforehand, without the courage to
settle _them_. Nothing in the world would have pleased me better than
to pounce upon ugly Harry, at his first breakfast ashore here; but
the bare horizon, and the quiet look of the island since ever we hove
in sight of it, showed this wasn't to be. At any rate, however, I was
bent on seeing how the land lay, and what sort of a place it was; so
accordingly, as soon as the hands had got breakfast, Westwood and I
at once pulled ashore with a boat's-crew well armed, to overhaul it.
We found the sandy beach covered, for a good way up, with a frothy
slime that, no doubt, came from the water on that side, with ever so
many different kinds of blubber, sea-jelly, star-fish, and shell;
while the rocky edge round to windward was hung with weed that made
the blocks below it seem to rise out of every surge, like green-headed
white-bearded mermen bathing. Glad enough we were to get out of the
queer sulphury smell all this stuff gave out in the heat--letting the
men take every one his own way into the bushes, which they enjoyed like
as many schoolboys, and making, ourselves, right for the highest point.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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