Masterman Ready. Frederick Marryat
where Mr Seagrave stood, the cocoa-nuts waved their feathery leaves to the wind, and offered an impervious shade. A feeling of the extreme beauty of the scene, subdued by the melancholy created by the sight of the wrecked vessel, pervaded the mind of Mr Seagrave as he meditated over it.
“Yes,” thought he, “if, tired with the world and its anxieties, I had sought an abode of peace and beauty, it would have been on a spot like this. How lovely is the scene!—what calm—what content—what a sweet sadness does it create! How mercifully have we been preserved when all hope appeared to be gone; and how bountifully have we been provided for, now that we have been saved,—and yet I have dared to repine, when I ought to be full of gratitude! May God forgive me! Wife, children, all safe, nothing to regret but a few worldly goods and a seclusion from the world for a time—yes, but for how long a time—What! rebellious still!—for the time that it shall please God in his wisdom to ordain.” Mr Seagrave turned back to his tent. William, Tommy, and old Ready still remained fast asleep. “Excellent old man!” thought Mr Seagrave. “What a heart of oak is hid under that rugged bark!—Had it not been for his devotion where might I and all those dear helpless creatures have been now?”
The dogs, who had crept into the tent and laid themselves down upon the mattresses by the side of William and Tommy, now fawned upon Mr Seagrave. William woke up with their whining, and having received a caution from his father not to wake Ready, he dressed himself and came out.
“Had I not better call Juno, father?” said William; “I think I can, without waking mamma, if she is asleep.”
“Then do, if you can, my boy; and I will see what cooking utensils Ready has brought on shore.”
William soon returned to his father, stating that his mother was in a sound sleep, and that Juno had got up without waking her or the two children.
“Well, we’ll see if we cannot get some breakfast ready for them, William. Those dry cocoa-nut leaves will make an excellent fire.”
“But, father, how are we to light the fire? we have no tinder-box or matches.”
“No; but there are other ways, William, although, in most of them, tinder is necessary. The savages can produce fire by rubbing a soft piece of wood against a hard one. But we have gunpowder; and we have two ways of igniting gunpowder—one is by a flint and steel, and the other is by collecting the sun’s rays into one focus by a magnifying-glass.”
“But, father, when we have lighted the fire, what have we to cook? we have no tea or coffee.”
“No, I do not think we have,” replied Mr Seagrave.
“But we have potatoes, father.”
“Yes, William, but don’t you think it would be better if we made our breakfast off the cold beef and pork and ship’s biscuit for once, and not use the potatoes? we may want them all to plant, you know. But why should we not go on board of the ship ourselves? you can pull an oar pretty well, and we must all learn to work now, and not leave everything for poor old Ready to do. Come, William.”
Mr Seagrave then went down to the cove; the little boat was lying on the beach, just lifted by the rippling waves; they pushed her off, and got into her. “I know where the steward kept the tea and coffee, father,” said William, as they pulled on board; “mamma would like some for breakfast, I’m sure, and I’ll milk the goats for baby.”
Although they were neither of them very handy at the oar, they were soon alongside of the ship; and, having made the boat fast, they climbed on board.
William first went down to the cabin for the tea and coffee, and then left his father to collect other things while he went to milk the goats, which he did in a tin pan. He then poured the milk into a bottle, which he had washed out, that it might not be spilt, and went back to his father.
“I have filled these two baskets full of a great many things, William, which will be very acceptable to your mamma. What else shall we take?”
“Let us take the telescope, at all events, father; and let us take a whole quantity of clothes—they will please mamma: the clean ones are all in the drawers—we can bring them up in a sheet; and then, father, let us bring some of the books on shore; and I’m sure mamma will long for her Bible and prayer-book;—here they are.”
“You are a good boy, William,” replied Mr Seagrave. “I will now take those things up to the boat, and then return for the rest.”
In a short time everything was put into the boat, and they pulled on shore again. They found Juno, who had been washing herself, waiting for them at the cove, to assist to take up the things.
“Well, Juno, how do you find yourself this morning?”
“Quite well, massa,” said Juno: and then pointing to the clear water, she said, “Plenty fish here.”
“Yes, if we only had lines,” replied Mr Seagrave. “I think Ready has both hooks and lines somewhere. Come, Juno, take up this bundle of linen to your tent: we can manage all the rest.”
When they arrived at the tent they found that every one was awake except Ready, who appeared still to sleep very sound. Mrs Seagrave had passed a very good night, and felt herself much refreshed. William made some touch-paper, which he lighted with one of the glasses from the telescope, and they soon had a good fire. Mr Seagrave went to the beach, and procured three large stones to rest the saucepan on; and in half an hour the water was boiling and the tea made.
Chapter Twelve.
Juno had taken the children down to the cove, and, walking out into the water up to her knees, had dipped them in all over, as the shortest way of washing them, and had then dressed them and left them with their mother, while she assisted William to get the cups and saucers and plates for breakfast. Everything was laid out nice and tidy between the two tents, and then William proposed that he should awaken Ready.
“Yes, my boy, you may as well now—he will want his breakfast.”
William went and pushed Ready on the shoulder. “Ready, have you had sleep enough?” said William, as the old man sat up.
“Yes, William. I have had a good nap, I expect; and now I will get up, and see what I can get for breakfast for you all.”
“Do,” replied William, laughing.
Ready was soon dressed, for he had only taken off his jacket when he lay down. He put it on, and came out of the tent; when, to his astonishment, he found the whole party (Mrs Seagrave having come out with the children) standing round the breakfast, which was spread on the ground.
“Good-morning, Ready!” said Mrs Seagrave, extending her hand. Mr Seagrave also shook hands with him.
“You have had a good long sleep, Ready,” said Mr Seagrave, “and I would not waken you after your fatigue of yesterday.”
“I thank you, sir; and I am glad to see that Madam is so well: and I am not sorry to see that you can do so well without me,” continued Ready, smiling.
“Indeed, but we cannot, I’m afraid,” replied Mrs Seagrave; “had it not been for you and your kindness, where should we have been now?”
“We can get a breakfast ready without you,” said Mr Seagrave; “but without you, I think we never should have required another breakfast by this time. But we will tell Ready all we have done while we eat our breakfast: now, my dear, if you please.” Mrs Seagrave then read a chapter from the Bible, and afterwards they all knelt down while Mr Seagrave offered up a prayer.
While they were at breakfast, William told Ready how they had gone on board, and what they had brought on shore, and he also mentioned how Juno had dipped all the children in the sea.
“But Juno must not do that again,” replied Ready, “until I have made all safe; you know that there are plenty of sharks about these islands, and it is very dangerous to go into the water.”
“Oh, what an escape they have had!” cried Mrs Seagrave, shuddering.
“It’s