CHAPTER XXII.
THE WHITE CAPTIVE.
While Charlie and Quandak are eagerly looking for the dawn, we will carry the reader back several years to an account of events which had taken place, and which were closely connected with one of the principal characters of this tale.
The scene was on board ship, and the time sunrise. The sea was perfectly smooth, and the air calm; not a breath to fill the listless sails, and the vessel stood still; flocks of mutton birds flow past, proceeding in thousands to their fishing grounds.
A lady passenger, of uncommon beauty, attired in a tasteful but simple dress, stepped lightly upon the quarter-deck. A cheerfulness spread over the countenances of the weather-beaten sailors as they washed down the decks, and the mute obeisance of the officer on watch testified to the high estimation in which she was held on board.
Advancing towards a large dog-kennel, she applied a key, and instantly a large grey stag-hound sprung out, manifested his joy at being released by dancing around her. After having gone through these joyful evolutions, his mistress called him towards her, and patting his head, said fondly:—"Bran bochd, you will soon obtain your liberty I hope, and may be find your master again, for being such a good fellow on the passage." The last words of this address were uttered in a low key, and although only intended for a dumb animal, they brought a blush to the countenance of the speaker, which was partly hidden in the shaggy coat of the hound.
The reader can easily recognise in the passenger, our heroine, Bella McKay, who, ever since the departure of Charlie, had taken under especial care his favourite hound.
On receiving the joyful intelligence of his safety, and accepting the invitation of her uncle, she resolved upon taking the dog with her, not only on account of his usefulness, but also to prove to Charlie her constancy and unaltered love. The generous and obliging Captain appreciated her devotion, and made all necessary arrangements for the accommodation of the dog as well as his mistress.
Another person now appeared on deck, who, after surveying the four quarters of the heavens with the experienced eye of a thorough seaman, approached Bella with an outstretched hand, and wished her a hearty good morning. Captain Hector McLean was a fine specimen of the British sailor. His strong and well-formed person above the middle height with an elastic and firm step, proved at once an active, as well as a brave sailor. His fine intelligent eyes, under finely arched black brows, contrasted admirably with his ruddy countenance. Born of a respectable family, in one of the western isles of Scotland, he was as an early age, brought to follow the seafaring life. The whole of the family emigrated to Australia in a vessel of their own where they took possession of some fine land, which by good management, raised them to affluence; this, with the uprightness of their character, gained for them the good wishes of all classes.
After exchanging the greetings of the morning, Bella teasingly said:—"How is it, Captain, that sailors always look more serious and concerned in beautiful weather when so near land, and within a short distance of port. I really believe you would prefer being in the middle of the ocean, with a gale of wind. I hope Mrs. McLean is no worse, since we have such delightful weather; why do you look so anxious?"
"I am happy to see you look so cheerful, Miss McKay, but at the same time I must confess that you have partly guessed the cause of my seriousness, Mrs. McLean is indeed not so well; she is much more restless and feverish than I have seen her during the voyage, and although the distance to port is not great, I doubt whether she will live to see it.
"Nonsense, Captain, you will soon see her on deck with me to enjoy this delightful scene."
"You are, indeed, very attentive, but I fear your benevolence and kind attentions will fail this time; but, did you ever believe in dreams, Miss McKay?"
"Surely, Captain, you have long ago forgotten our Highland superstitions, and are not influenced by such nonsense now."
"You may smile my dear friend, and I assure you I always placed as little faith in dreams as anyone; but last night's has made such an impression on my mind that I cannot shake it off—everything appearing so real."
"And pray, Captain, what was the substance of your dream, may I ask?"
"Well, as I see you are a non-believer, I will relate it. I thought that a tearful hurricane overtook us, which drove the vessel ashore, and as soon as we escaped the waves we became the victims of savages, who destroyed all but you. Now, ridiculous as you may think this, I hope you will not mention it to my wife, as I have not told her a word of it for fear of increasing her restlessness. But, bye-the-bye, Miss McKay, don't these white, rocks remind you of some of the ruined castles in the Highlands?"
"The very thought which occupied my mind when you came upon deck. See, yonder stands Castle Tioram in Moidart; and there frowns Barra Castle, where St. Clair was exiled; and those two are your chief's castles, opposite Duart as Donalla Muchoincamh a chicle (Duart and Dunolly vis-à-vis). But this comparing will not do; I must be away to my patient and bring her up, for it would be selfishness on our part to enjoy such scenery without her sharing it." As soon as she had said this, off the lively girl tripped on her benevolent mission. The Captain watched her until she had disappeared down the steps, then drawing a sigh, the word "angel" escaped his lips.
"Rouse, yourself, my dear Mrs. M'Lean, and accompany me on deck, where you will see some most delightful scenery, which will banish all the sufferings you have experienced during the passage." Such was Bella's morning salutation to her invalid friend on entering the cabin. She soon saw that the Captain's account of his young wife's state of health was quite true; a change for the worse was evident; her looks and voice bespoke restlessness and feverishness which was not observable the night before. She acknowledged the kind enquiries and encouraging propositions of her friend with a mournful move of the head, adding—"You have indeed been very kind ever since we came on board, but I doubt whether you will be able to get me out of bed alive; some fearful despondency weighs upon my mind, and many terrible presentiments that I shall never see the end of the voyage."
"Nonsense, my dear, that all comes from lowness of spirits, caused by your being obliged to keep your cabin; but it will all disappear when you get on deck and feast your eyes on scenery which will rival your Highland home.
"I doubt it, Bella; and to add to my former indisposition, I was visited last night with such a frightful dream, the effects of which I am unable to drive from my mind, for every circumstance appeared so real; and although I know you will ridicule my superstition, I cannot help relating it, for I could not find sufficient courage to mention it to the Captain, as I know he would only laugh at my silliness."
"And pray, my little prophetess, what was the substance of this terrible dream," replied Bella, with a feigned indifference, for something struck her that it was very remarkable both husband and wife should be visited in the same night by such dreams.
"You may smile my dear, I have always been an unbeliever in dreams as well as you, but that of last night had such terrors connected with it: I imagined that a storm came on, which drove us on land, where a number of wild savages seized upon us, the fright awoke me with a start, and I am unable to banish it from my mind."
"Is that all," replied Bella, provokingly, at the same time forcing a smile. "Have you never heard that dreams go by contraries? Now I shall take upon myself, for the first time, to be a reader of dreams, and yours of last night indicates, according to this rule, that this fine weather will take us safely to Sydney, where we shall be received by our friends with open arms."
Bella McKay, with her usual cheerfulness and encouragement, succeeded in coaxing the invalid to dress herself, and accompany her on deck, when the beautiful prospect soon dispelled part of the gloom and anxiety which had taken possession of her mind.
During the whole forenoon the same calmness continued, but Bella noticed that the Captain constantly watched the weather-glass and sky with more attention than usual. At length, beckoning her to the other side of the quarter-deck, apparently unperceived by his wife, and on her approaching him, he spoke as follows:—"My dear Miss McKay, you have always acted the part of a kind friend to my wife during her illness and the voyage, and I shall be obliged if you would take her below, as I expect a strong gale of wind soon (or, as we call them in Sydney, a brickfielder) from yonder black cloud. Those sudden gales are very prevalent in these latitudes, and are generally preceded by such calms and stillness as we have had to day. You need not be alarmed, for if we are hard pressed, we can find shelter in some small cove on the coast until it blows over, although I would rather be caught in the wide ocean, than in these straits and currents."
Bella now looked at the cloud, which appeared like a black speck in the heavens, but which every minute increased in size. Without betraying any concern, she conducted Mrs. McLean to her cabin, which they had hardly gained, when the loud and clear voice of the Captain was heard calling out, "All hands ready, take in sail!"
The astonished seamen could hardly believe their ears, and stared in each other's faces, when the captain again called out:—"make all ready for a gale of wind."
This well-known command made them spring up the rigging, and it was well that they had exercised such rapidity, for no sooner was the vessel made snug, than a sudden blast struck her aloft and would have sent her on her beam ends, had not the few sails set given away.
The gale now set in with fearful violence, driving the ship under bare poles before it, until darkness closed around them, which rendered their situation more perilous. The experienced commander well knew that if the gale lasted long, they would be forced upon a lee shore before morning; he therefore endeavoured to bring her head up and lie to, but the force of the hurricane made this a difficult and hard task.
The night was passed by all on board in the utmost anxiety, which was greatly increased on the first appearance of daylight, for the wind and current had driven them far beyond the captain's anticipated distance, and in sight of the ninety-mile beach, which extended as far as the eye could reach on their lee and which offered no shelter to them. Each moment they approached nearer and nearer to their inevitable doom; the brave captain at length made known his intention to beach the ship, which was the only chance of saving themselves.
This terrible expedient, which would be attended by so many dangers, was determined on, and everything prepared accordingly. The captain took the wheel himself in order to run her with as much ease as possible towards her foaming berth, while each seaman stood with his axe in his hand ready to cut away spars and rigging when she touched.
The moment was an awful one, each man stood ready at his post with a pale and resolute countenance, and as the ship rode furiously on the crest of the surf which carried her to her doom, the implements came down at one swoop at the word "cut away my lads!" when the tall masts with the entangled rigging fell over the side with one fearful crash, which sounded above the roaring of the billows. When the wreck was cleared away, the longboat was launched and all on board were got safely into it at great risk; she was then cut adrift, when a furious billow, which washed over the hull, struck her amidship, capsized her, and sent all on board into the raging surf.
Bella's first recollection was to find herself swept with fearful velocity on to the sandy shore, and when on the eve of being drawn back by the receding surge, she felt that something held her tightly by her clothes, which saved her from being drowned. The succeeding wave carried her still higher up, and in retreating the same firm grasp held her, but this time it dragged her out of the reach of further danger.
Bella then lay for some time quite exhausted, and unable to move, or even see, as her dripping hair covered her face, when some fierce growls struck her ear. Terrified at this second danger, and expecting that the growl proceeded from some native animal, she was afraid to open her eyes.
The warm rays of the morning sun soon revived her, and infused strength into her saturated form. The growling of the animal became more fierce, which was at length accompanied with the snapping of a dog, as if keeping some animal at bay. She now removed her dripping hair from her eyes, when a sight which failed her with awe and terror presented itself, and sent a thrill through her frame which almost deprived her of life. Within a few yards of her were ranged a number of natives, with dark skins, and painted with white stripes over the body, which gave them a horrible appearance. Each of them was armed with several like implements, and whenever they attempted to approach her, her brave guardian, Bran (from whom the growling proceeded) made a spring at them, which sent them back in affright.
Captain McLean and his wife's dreams recurred to her at the moment, and she now guessed that her faithful dog was her preserver, when near death by drowning; and now the faithful brute stood by her in another, and perhaps more trying time, protecting her against the savages.
On seeing the terror the noble dog kept the natives in, and gaining courage by the hopes that he might be the means of protecting that life which had been so wonderfully preserved, she considered it her bounden duty to exert herself in fulfilling her share of the responsibility.
Raising herself from the wet sand, which had almost benumbed her, her first act was to look round for her companions; but, alas, no sign or vestige of them could be seen, and the admired Bella McKay, the idol of the Western Highlands, was now a solitary exile and wanderer in a wild and unknown land, with not a creature save her faithful dog, to protect her, or administer to her wants.
How vain now all the attention and homage which had been paid her by the noblest gallants in the British Kingdom. Alas! the condition of the poorest and simplest mendicant in her fatherland would now be hailed by her as an inestimable blessing in her present forlorn state, her very existence being threatened to become a sacrifice to those most terrible-looking savages.
These thoughts were soon interrupted by the approach of a tall and powerful-looking savage, who, by his manner and looks, appeared to be their chief.
With a significant gesture and word of command, he sent the whole party up the beach, but they returned in a short time unarmed, each holding up a green branch. This she understood to mean peace, having heard and read of similar practices among savage nations, which greatly alleviated her fears, and which, with the suspicious and terrified looks they cast on Bran, filled her with some hope of security.
The chief, meanwhile, displayed many signs of sympathy for her pitiful and uncomfortable condition, pointing to her dripping garments, and then pointing to some smoke that appeared to issue from a fire above the beach among the bushes, by which she understood that he invited her to warm herself.
Seeing opposition unavailing, being entirely in their power, and having the protection of Bran, who appeared to hold some mysterious influence over the savages, (which had they possessed sufficient courage, they could easily have despatched with their spears,) she consented to follow them.
On arriving at the fires, round which some small sheds were constructed of sticks and bark, the chief brought from the largest of them a rug made of skins of animals, and apparently the best change of clothes in his wardrobe. This she folded round her, which, with the heat of the fire, soon warmed her.
Great care and attention was paid to her and to her comfort by the chief and the whole tribe, which she had no idea was in their nature. The most delicate portions of fish and game were prepared and offered to her as her food, with some berries and other native fruit.
A more commodious and secure shed was constructed for her accommodation, and which was kept strictly private for her and Bran, who kept watch over her day and night.