Page:Once a Week Jul - Dec 1859.pdf/407

396 zone, and language is poor, too poor to describe them. Fancy the bright yellow tint of the ripening canes, contrasting with the deep green of the Indian com, which at this season is just beginning to spear, and this again varied by the luxuriant Guinea grass, groves of small trees, and clumps of waving cocoa-nut trees; the prospect being terminated by the lofty mountains, covered with an immense forest, the outlines of which melted into the distant peaks, and these again were lost in the clouds.

I was awakened from my reverie by “eight bells” being struck, and the hands going to breakfast. The trees faded away, the mountains vanished! and in their stead behold rising before me those marine luxuries, soft bread — tack we call it — and new milk.

“What on earth shall we do to get through the day?“ I exclaimed, as I was seated at the breakfast table.

“Can’t tell,” replied my friend Carey, who was deep in the mysteries of corned beef and chilies.

“It’s a fine morning for a sail, sir. Shall I tell them to get the long-boat under weigh?“ said the boy who was waiting at breakfast.

As the sea-breeze had just set in, and as anything was a change after the monotony of nothing to do and nowhere to go, I said “Yes.” The boy then suggested Redonda. I fancied that there must be a very splendid view from the summit of the rock; and as I wanted, also, to know something of the habits of the innumerable sea-birds that inhabited it, I ordered some provisions to be put into the boat, and with three men, and Tom, the apprentice, we started for Booby Island.

After the eternal sameness of a life on board a ship at anchor, there was something inspiriting in the very motion of the boat, and the rushing of the transparent water past us, as she plunged through it, scattering the foam from her bows as we sped onward.

We bowled along for about half an hour, and I enjoyed it vastly. A light feathery cloud partially obscured the sun, and caused the temperature to be less oppressive than is usual in these latitudes; while the breeze from the Atlantic blew fresh and cool as on a May morning in England. I seemed to have left all the languor and listlessness of the tropics behind me, and, for the time, felt the strength, the spirits, and the elasticity of youth return to me.

We were now fast approaching Redonda, above which was to be seen a cloud of boobies, whitening the sky with their numbers, and filling the air with their wailing cries.

Boobies, as I have before observed, are so called from their remarkable stupidity. They seem to have no sense, not even the instinct of self-preservation, for they will suffer themselves to be killed without moving a peg, and they will see their next neighbours knocked on the head without any sign of fear, or any attempt to preserve themselves from a similar fate. They fly, or rather wheel about in the air, with their necks extended, and their wings almost motionless. Naturalists tell us that they have the power, by means of inflation, of rising without moving their wings; and to all appearance this is the case. Their cry is something between that of a goose and a raven, and is of a peculiarly wailing, melancholy description; and this, with the solitude of the rocks and rugged nature of the scenery that presented itself to my view as we approached the island, seemed to impress me with a sad sort of presentiment. I could not get rid of this feeling; and, though I thought at the time it was exceedingly foolish, yet I am willing to confess that afterwards I had reason to think differently.

The view of Redonda from the windward side was magnificent; but at the same time it was the magnificence of desolation, of chaos. At the base large masses of rock, piled one on the other in the grandest disorder, jutted out from the main island, against which the long swell of the Atlantic beats with tremendous violence, and, then thundering against the cliff, sent the spray clean over it.

We sailed round the island, and then lay to to leeward of the rock, seeking for a place to land in safety. I should think no one previous to our ascent had ever taken the trouble to reach the summit of this rock, for, to all appearance, there was no path whereby we could ascend; the cliff seemed to me to be nothing but an abrupt precipice perfectly inaccessible to man. However, sailors are not the sort of fellows to be disheartened by difficulties or dangers, and so after a more careful survey T found a place where I thought we could ascend; but how to land without injury to the boat was the next thing that puzzled me. The 8 well from seaward rose and fell in long undulating masses, and as they swept back, disclosed a quantity of sunken rocks, which threatened instant destruction to the boat if she touched on them.

I anchored clear of the rocks, and then sent a hand on shore with a line; and by hauling on this, and at the same time veering out cable, we were enabled to get the boat alongside a ledge of rocks; but even then our landing was attended with considerable danger. The swell coming round from both sides of the island met just at the point chosen for our debarkation, and rushing along the side of the cliff took the boat on its calm but treacherous bosom, and would have dashed her into pieces against the rocky cliff if we had not held on at these moments by the cable. As it was we had to watch our opportunity, and jump on shore in a smooth; but even then it required care and judgment, for if we had jumped on a receding wave we should have certainly missed our footing and been violently dashed against the rocks by the next recurrent wave. It required us to jump with the rising of the sea while our body had an upward motion, and as soon as we landed we had to scramble up to the next ledge to prevent our being carried back again by the underdraught of the following sea. It may be imagined from this that none but sailors would have succeeded in effecting a landing: and after we had landed, it occurred to me that it was not safe to leave the boat without some one to take care of her, and I ordered the boy back into her. I shall never forget the poor lad’s countenance when he was told he was not to go with us; and if I could consistently with our safety have left the boat untenanted, I would have taken him.