Monday, April 15, 2024

5 It Might Have Been Worse

If you have seen anyone on whom a sudden, great misfortune has fallen, in the first transports of his grief and raging despair, trample the ground, tear his hair wildly, fling his clenched hands abroad, seek for someone on whom to revenge himself, and by a thousand violent actions give vent to the extremity of his passionate sorrow, you may have some picture of the conduct of these men and myself, when this most woeful sight burst on us. We ran about, up and down the rocks, stamping, yelling like madmen out of Bedlam. We glared at each other like wild beasts; and I know not why some of us did not fling ourselves down the sides of the mountain, in bitter grief, to die in the gullies below.
Then, at times again we would pause, and look eagerly towards the ship, as fain to persuade ourselves that all was but a rude sailor’s jest, intended merely to fright us. We said to one another, fiercely, with vehemence, trying to believe what we said, that we should see the long-boat with her sail set, tacking back for us against the breeze, which now blew off shore. But truly, we might have waited long for such a chance; and all this dreadful suspense was ended when we saw the ship fill her sails, and stand steadily off on her former course. At the moment she veered we saw a puff of smoke; and then came the report of one of her guns, fired wantonly by way of heaping insult on our wretchedness; which gave us to understand, all hope was over for us. At the sight of such a token of savage cruelty on the part of the crew, the men broke out anew into such curses, ravings, and passionate laments, as were more fit for those transported beside themselves, than for reasonable creatures, who should gather their spirits and courage to make the best of a bad case.
But indeed reason was, at that time, the last thing to be found among us; and we did but add to each other’s grief: for when one, exhausted by his violence, would be silent for a while, another would take it up, as though he had never lamented before; and thus set all off again by the contagion of his voice and looks. So that I believe there has seldom been shown a more lively image of the rage and despairing lamentations of those who are lost for ever, than in us five who then found ourselves left on the island.
I say, us five; for we had no thought of the priest all this while, nor leisure so much as to observe how he bore himself in the common misfortune that involved us. We knew what we had lost, and were fully occupied with that: as for him, we knew not, and cared not, either what he had lost, or what he possessed. He had been our companion in our ramble, and pleasant enough we had found him; but when anything more than a mere pastime engaged us, we turned inward on ourselves, or looked on each other only, thinking no more about him than if he inhabited another world, or (to come closer), another island of desolation. At length, wearied out with our long march, and exhausted by all this raving, partly too by want of food, we sank into a kind of stupid and settled despair, casting ourselves down on the place where we had stood. There would one seaman lie, burying his face in his hands, and weeping even like a child. Another would sit, clasping his knees, and turning his face towards heaven, but without uttering a prayer. A third man, with his teeth set, and his features awry, more like a savage or a maniac, would watch the sails of the ship, as they came between us and the setting sun; then shake his clenched hand at her while she glided away, muttering somewhat most dreadful to listen to. As for me, I cannot indeed boast that my angry passions were more under command than theirs, or much more, to signify; yet reason sooner came to the rescue with me, and I saw the need of not giving way, but thinking for the rest. While I sat, and rested my head on my hand, I began to cast about with myself what was best to advise under our unhappy condition. After a while, chancing to turn my eyes aside, I noticed Don Manuel, some thirty paces from us, kneeling on the rock, with his hands clasped; and he was plainly deep in prayer.
I watched him for some minutes; but he did not stir, nor indeed did he see me at all. Then I rose, and went softly to him, touching him on the shoulder. As he looked up, I could perceive the traces of tears on his cheeks; this, I now confess, was what first disposed me more kindly towards him, to see him grieve in our common misfortune, though he had taken it to heart in so different a way from the rest.
“You Sir”, said I, with as much calmness as I could, “ it behoves us, in these unhappy affairs, to consult as well for ourselves as for those who are nearly beside their wits with grief, or rage, which you will: and, as night will soon come upon us, no time is to be lost in preparing (since needs we must) to camp without shelter upon this island”.
He rose at once, looked at me in a friendly way; then, with the manner of a prince, yet quite simple and humble too, he motioned me to a seat beside him on the rock, and taking my hand with much kindness, said:
“Senor, we have all suffered a great misfortune together; or rather let me say”, and he crossed himself devoutly, “we have been the objects of a great deliverance. Nothing of this has taken me entirely by surprise: for I have, this while past, seen somewhat to be wrong with the crew, and that they would soon be rid of some they had on board. So we will give thanks to God, and bear our lot with equal mind. We are, indeed, ill provided even with things necessary to continue our lives on this place; but, though I much desired to give you a hint before leaving the ship, I could neither do that without being suspected by the captain, nor myself take anything away with me. True, I have little in this world but my cloak and a few books, for which, I confess, I grieve; yet I grieve more for you. But Providence has shielded us hitherto, and will shield us still”.
“Courage”, then said he, rising, and still holding my hand; “ let us go to these poor men; let us try to console them, and make our preparations all together”.
So, stepping to the rest, he addressed them in a few simple words. He was sure (he said), as brave seamen, they would bear up against their misfortune: that when a sailor leaves port, he commits himself to wind and weather, and a thousand chances; he is never certain how he will live, nor how he will die, nor where he will be buried. But we had reason, he said, to be thankful to God that our lot was not a worse one. We might have been boarded by pirates, massacred, or sold as slaves, or kidnapped for the plantations; the ship might have been burnt at sea, and we swamped in the boats, or perishing of hunger. We might all have foundered together in deep water, or suffered shipwreck, and been cast by the fury of the waves on some inhospitable coast with nothing in our hands, and perhaps a defenseless prey to cannibal savages. It was the part of brave men therefore not to be cast down so long as a hope remained of repairing their fortunes; that the preservation of our lives was an instinct implanted in us by the Author of our being; and finally, that our business for the moment was, to establish ourselves in safety for the night upon this island, and leave all further deliberation for the morrow.
In short, though I do not pretend that he expressed himself in these terms with great readiness, seeing he was forced to translate his thoughts into our language; yet he made us so moving a little discourse, and so persuasive, partly from the words themselves, partly from his manner of delivering them, that it was plain to see the poor men were strengthened and encouraged by it to a great degree. And having so far succeeded, he directed them to search in the thickets for the driest and fittest brushwood to kindle a fire. With the help of my hanger and the seamen’s clasp-knives, it was soon done as he advised; and a space found on the rock, that seemed like a natural hearth, hollowed by no hand of man into a kind of shallow basin. This we cleared of its earth and moss, and disposed our brushwood there for our bonfire. We laid aside another large heap of brush, and a quantity of dry turf, which we pulled up in large clods from the soil, enough altogether to feed our fire through the few hours of dark. Then, by Don Manuel’s advice, each one looked carefully to the priming of his piece, and freshened it, lest the powder might take injury by the night dews, and so render us defenceless against any attack. For the same reason, they were reminded to keep the locks of their fowling-pieces carefully covered while they lay down to sleep. But Tom Harvey volunteered to keep watch over us all, and not to lie down through the night. I offered to share this duty with him, turn and turn about, in the manner of dog-watches on board ship: but he said cheerfully, it should be my turn the next night, if I would; that he would rather stay awake one night and have full rest another, than have broken rest for two in succession; which indeed is the hardest part of all sea service.
For beds we were at no loss: there was moss all about, and dry leaves in abundance, very fragrant, as was the wood also which we burned on the fire. Don Manuel stepped a little aside to finish his prayers, as I could well perceive by the firelight; for now, the sun being down, the darkness of the tropics was upon us at once. But we, without any prayers at all, like ungrateful heathen wretches that we were, cast ourselves on these couches of leaves, with our feet to the fire, and so all was still.




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