Browne John Ross
Crusoe's Island: A Ramble in the Footsteps of Alexander Selkirk
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE SKULL
During the recital of this tragical narrative, Abraham, who had listened to every word with intense interest, became strangely agitated. Several times it was apparently with the utmost difficulty he could refrain from relieving himself of something that produced an unusual effect upon his mind. Especially when it came to the death of the unfortunate Scotchman, I thought I noticed that he was intensely excited. At first, knowing the tenderness of his feelings, I attributed this extraordinary manifestation of interest to grief and pity for the unhappy fate of the beautiful Chilian; but I soon found that it proceeded from another and very different cause. No sooner had Pearce concluded than he exclaimed,
"I'll wager a thousand dollars, gentlemen, that the Scotchman never was buried!"
"He was buried, certain," said Pearce; "I can show you the place."
"Then there is some strange mystery about it," said Abraham, somewhat disappointed. "This very day I found a man's skull, which I am now quite certain has some connection with this tragedy."
The intense excitement produced by this disclosure is quite indescribable. Every body in the party leaned forward, with starting eyes, and gazed with breathless interest at Abraham. He had purposely withheld making any reference to the affair of the skull till a fitting opportunity should occur to disclose all the particulars, when the mind of every individual present was in a proper tone of solemnity to receive so important a communication. That opportunity had how occurred, under the most favorable and unlooked-for circumstances. I never saw Abraham so excited in my life before – not even on the occasion of his late unpleasant difficulty.
"Gentlemen," said he, "I had a presentiment before we left the ship that this expedition would result in some extraordinary discovery. You may judge from the facts which I am about to disclose to you how far this presentiment has been verified."
He then, in a voice of becoming solemnity, went into a detailed narrative of our adventures in the mountains. He commenced at the very starting-point, where we separated from the hunting party; he dwelt vividly on our perilous adventure on the cliff, stating all the particulars of our escape; how we climbed up a perpendicular wall of rocks four thousand feet high; how we stood upon the very highest pinnacle, which was only ten inches in diameter; how, when we came down again to the base, we lay perfectly insensible for an entire hour; and the wonderful adventures we had in the interior – the walk of six miles directly back from the ocean; our preservation from a horrible and lingering death by thirst, through the agency of a little bird; the Enchanted Valley that we explored, and the two wild horses we caught entangled in the bushes, and afterward rode; our discovery of an old castle built in the sixteenth century by Juan Fernando; the mysterious marks upon the outer wall; our strange and startling explorations of the interior vaults and marble halls; and finally the discovery of the skull – the skull of some unfortunate man who had crept into one of those dreary vaults, where he died on a miserable bed of straw, all alone, without a soul near him! Afterward how he (Abraham) and myself were overtaken by a frightful tornado, and cast down over the rocks a distance of three miles in a direct line; how, during this terrible fall, he had the misfortune to strike a rock, and ruin the invaluable relic of mortality which he had put in his pocket, by breaking it all to pieces; but —
"Did you save the pieces?" asked a voice from the corner. Of course it was the voice of the Doubter. A look from Abraham silenced him, and the narrative was resumed:
But it fortunately happened that a portion of the socket of one eye and a piece of the forehead remained entire, which, together with all the smaller fragments, he would be most happy to exhibit to the company; premising, however, that there was but little question in his mind, from all the particulars of Pearce's tragical narrative, that this skull was in some way or other connected with it. Possibly it might be that the unhappy young woman, who it appears was the victim of an inordinate passion for the murdered man, bereft of her senses by his tragical death, went to his grave at night and dug up his body, and being unable to carry it away at once, perhaps she cut it to pieces, and carried it by degrees up to her secret place of wailing in the mountains, where she could mourn over his remains without fear of discovery. It was not an unreasonable conjecture, he thought, considering the woman was insane. In some hour of despondency she had probably made those mysterious designs which had led to the discovery – the sketch of the dead body of her lover; the ship that left the island without saving him; some pet goat that doubtless accompanied her in her wanderings; the children that were strangled, and all those vague marks, which indicated the character of her thoughts.
During the narration of these adventures, which I must confess astonished me not a little, well as I knew the enthusiastic character of my friend (and he never was more in earnest in his life), I observed that Pearce had doubled himself up almost into a knot, covering his face with his hands, and heaving convulsively, as if moved by some internal earthquake. There was no sound escaped him, but it was quite evident that he was strangely affected by Abraham's narrative. The rest of the party were so deeply interested in the whole disclosure that they took no notice of him. Could it be that Pearce himself was implicated in the murder? That it was all a fiction his being in Valparaiso at the time? That he was in any way attached to this unfortunate female, whose sad fate had aroused all our sympathies?
"I'd like to see that skull," said the Doubter.
"Here it is – or what remains of it," said Abraham, drawing forth the pieces from his pocket; "you can all see it if you wish."
The pieces were handed round and examined with intense interest and curiosity.
"You call this a man's skull?" said the Doubter, looking incredulously at a piece which he held in his hand.
"I do, sir," said Abraham, sharply; "have you any objection to my calling it a man's skull, sir?"
"No, none at all; you may call it a dog's skull if you like. I'd call it Robinson Crusoe's skull if I owned it. For all I know to the contrary, it is his; but I'd like to have a certificate from himself to that effect before I'd place much confidence in my own opinion, if I thought so."
The biting satire of these remarks touched Abraham to the quick. Nothing in the world would have prevented him from springing upon the Doubter at that moment, and taking summary vengeance upon his person, but the sudden exit of Pearce, who, rising from his goatskin, hurriedly left the cabin. This produced a general murmur of disapprobation. It was the unanimous opinion that a course of conduct, resulting as this did – compelling a man, as it were, to leave his own castle for personal security, was very unbecoming; and that Abraham, being the chief, although perhaps unintentional cause of it, was in honor bound to go after him and bring him back.
I take pride in saying that my friend was not the kind of man to resist such an appeal as this. He immediately left the hut and went in search of Pearce. Meanwhile we took occasion to administer a well-merited rebuke to the Doubter; and to declare that if he again interrupted the harmony of the evening, we would leave him ashore when we started for the ship. His only reply to this was, that he hoped, if he should unfortunately die in a cave in consequence of our cruelty, that his head would make a better-looking skull than the one Abraham had found.
In about ten minutes Abraham and Pearce returned, both having a very strange expression upon their features. Pearce looked unnaturally serious about the mouth, but I fancied more knowing than usual about the eyes. In sitting down he dropped a dollar, which he hastily picked up and put in his pocket. As to my friend, I thought there was something confused and dejected in his look; but he immediately said with assumed spirits when he came in, "All right, gentlemen; all right. The whole thing is settled; let there be nothing more about it."
Some few questions, however, were asked concerning the skull, but all the satisfaction Abraham could give was, "You have the particulars, gentlemen; you must judge for yourselves." Pearce professed to know nothing about it.
Harmony and good-humor being again restored, there were numerous calls for some farther reminiscences of the island.
Pearce said he didn't know whether any of us had ever heard of the governor's vision; if we hadn't, maybe we'd like to hear something about it. He couldn't promise that it was all true, but the Chilians here believed every word of it; "and, likely enough," he added, looking quietly at Abraham, "there may be some of you that can account for it."
"Let us have it!" exclaimed every body in a breath; "the governor's vision, by all means."
Pearce then fixed himself comfortably on his goatskin, and, putting some fagots on the fire, gave us in substance the following history of
the governor's vision
CHAPTER XIX.
THE GOVERNOR'S VISION
The highest peak on the island of Juan Fernandez is called the Peak of Yonka. It forms an abrupt precipice all round, of several hundred feet. Various attempts have been made from time to time, by sailors and others, to ascend to the summit, but this feat has never been accomplished except in a single instance. A cross still stands upon it, which was erected by two Chilians many years ago, under very strange circumstances. It appears that the Chilian governor at the time of the penal settlement in Cumberland Bay went out riding one day near this mountain. On his return he related to his people a strange vision which he had seen in the course of his ramble. He said that, while looking at the peak, he saw down in the valley that lay between a tall man dressed in black, with a black hat on, mounted on a horse of the purest white. The strange rider turned toward him, showing a face of ghastly paleness. He looked at him steadfastly, with "eyes of fire," as the governor declared, the glare of which made the air hot all around. The governor, trembling with awe, made the sign of the cross, upon which the strange horseman put spurs to his horse, and rode straight up the precipice to the summit of the peak, where he stopped a moment to look back. He then, upon seeing the sign of the cross made again, waved his hands wildly, as if in despair, and plunged out of sight on the other side. Being a devout man, and withal a believer in spirits, the governor considered this to be an omen of some impending calamity, which could only be averted by planting a cross on the peak. For this purpose he selected two criminals, under sentence of death for the murder of a soldier, and offered them their liberty if they would make the ascent and erect the cross. In the one case there was the certainty of death, in the other a chance of life. The criminals therefore resolved to make the attempt. Ropes, ladders, and tools were furnished them by the governor, and they were allowed such provisions as they required, with injunctions that at the expiration of ten days, in case of failure, they would be executed. For eight days they toiled incessantly. They drove spikes into the walls of rock, and day by day went up a little higher, letting themselves down again at night by ropes to the base of the precipice. On the eighth day they reached the summit, ready to die of fright, and worn to skeletons at the terrible ordeal through which they had passed. It took them all the next day to recover sufficiently to be able to resume their labors. The table on the top was of solid rock, not more than fifty feet in diameter. In the centre was a spring of clear water bubbling up and running over the rocks. One of them bathed in this water, and was so refreshed that he thought it must have some magical properties. He went over to the edge on the western side, and looked down to see where it fell. Directly beneath him, he saw a line stretched from two points of rock over the precipice, nearly covered with linen shirts, as white as the driven snow, and apparently of the finest texture. He called to his comrade to come and witness this wonderful sight. While the two men were looking over, there came a tremendous hurricane, that compelled them to throw themselves flat on their backs to avoid being blown over into the abyss. After the hurricane had passed they again looked over, but the line and shirts had disappeared, and they saw nothing but the bare rocks. They then fell upon their knees and prayed, and the vision of an angel appeared to them, telling them to put up the cross near the spring. As soon as they had planted the cross, they let themselves down by the ropes, and hastened to tell the governor of the strange adventures that had befallen them. So impressed was he by their wonderful narrative, that he immediately gave them their freedom, as he had promised, and sent them home laden with presents; and he had crosses erected on various parts of the island, and masses performed by the soldiers for a long time after.
"I wouldn't swear to it all," added Pearce, looking again toward Abraham. "But likely some of you gentlemen, who have more schoolin' than I have, may be able to account for it."
Abraham reddened a little and looked confused, but said nothing. A voice from the corner broke in,
"I know exactly how it happened; nothing is easier than to account for it. In the first place, it didn't happen at all. The governor was dyspeptic. I'm rayther dyspeptic myself, gentlemen, and I know what sights a man sees when he gets the horrors from dyspepsia. I've seen stranger sights than that when it was bad on me – once, in particular, I was troubled a good deal worse than the governor."
"Impossible," said Abraham, scornfully, "utterly impossible, sir, that you could ever have seen any thing half so strange as the governor's vision."
"I didn't see a house made of glue," retorted the Doubter. "I didn't ride on wild horses; neither did I find a castle with a skull in it. I didn't carry the skull six miles, and then find out that it came off the head of a four-legged man; and that the four-legged man was cut to pieces by his lady-love; but I'll tell you what I did see."
"Hold, sir, hold!" cried Abraham, now perfectly furious. "By heavens, gentlemen, I can't stand such insults as these! You must suffer me to chastise this wretch. Miserable poltroon! do you dare to taunt me in that manner? I'll see you, sir – I'll see you to-morrow morning!"
"Likely you will," said the Doubter, coolly, at the same time shrinking back a little. "Likely you will, if you look in the right direction. Keep your dander down till then, and you'll see a good deal better. In the mean time, gentlemen, if you like to listen, I'll tell you what happened when the dyspepsia was bad on me."
Of course, any proposition calculated to restore harmony was heartily approved, and thereupon we were forced to listen to —
CHAPTER XX.
THE DOUBTER'S DYSPEPTIC STORY
Once, when the dyspepsia was bad on me, I went to bed rayther low-spirited, and began to think I was going to die. I thought I couldn't live till morning. My stomach was as hard as a brick-bat, and I was cold all over. The more cover I piled on, the colder I got. The minute I shut my eyes, I was scared to death at the darkness. I felt as if something dreadful was going to happen, and didn't know exactly what it was. Sometimes I thought robbers were under the bed, and sometimes I heard strange noises about the house. My heart stopped beating altogether; I felt for my pulse, but couldn't find it in my wrists or any where else. Every bit of blood seemed to have oozed out of me in some mysterious way, and to all intents and purposes my body was dead. There was no dream about it. I could move my limbs the same as ever, and was as wide awake as I am this minute; but there was no sign of life about me except that my mind had power to move the dead flesh; for it was cold and clammy as that of a corpse. Any body else would have given up, and concluded he was a genuine corpse; but you see I was not the sort of man to believe such a thing as that without farther proof. I therefore lay still a while, in hopes I'd get warm by-and-by, and feel better; but I kept growing colder and colder, and at last was so cold that I felt like ice all over. I had the most dreadful and gloomy reflections. Every thing I thought about seemed blue, and dreary, and hopeless; every body unhappy; and the whole future a desert waste, without one ray of light. Despair was upon me; I cared for nothing; it was all the same to me whether I lived or died. I wanted neither help, nor pity, nor love, nor life – all, all was wrapped in despair. The gloom of this state brought on a kind of lethargy; a total unconsciousness of every thing external. My mind only existed and operated, as it were, in perfect darkness. The body was nothing but a type of intense darkness and coldness wrapped around the spirit. In this state I at length heard whisperings in the air, outside of me as I thought. They drew nearer; the voices were strange and unnatural; I was conscious of a singular sensation, for a time, as if whirled rapidly through space; then I heard the voices say, in low tones, "How cold he is! how miserably cold he is! but we'll soon warm him!" I now became sensible of strong gases in the air, but they produced no farther impression than the mere consciousness of their existence. Wild shrieks and moans, and dreadful hissing sounds arose around me. "Here we are," said the voices; "glad of it, for he's terribly cold." "Put him there in that big furnace; it'll soon warm him," said another voice, in a tone of authority. I was then tossed, as I thought, some distance, and became suddenly still; but the same cold and impenetrable darkness was around my spirit. "There, that fire's out!" said the voice, angrily; "put him in another, and keep him well stirred up." Again there was a movement, and again I was still, but not so still as before, for I was conscious of a jarring sensation. "Out again!" roared the same voice, fiercely. "Out again! you don't keep him well stirred up!" "He's as cold as ice," said the other voices; "we can't do any thing with him." "Try him in the middle furnace!" said the chief voice, sternly; "that'll melt the ice out of him!" Again I was whirled through the gases and deposited in some imperceptible place; but all this time I was growing colder and colder. There was a pause, and then the voices said, "He won't burn, sir; don't you see he's putting the fire out." "Out again, by all the demons!" roared the chief voice, furiously. "Take him away! Carry him back to where you got him. The man's dyspeptic. We can't have such a miserable wretch here! By Pluto! he'd put out every fire we've got in a week. Bear a hand, you rascals! for may I be blessed if I ain't freezing myself!" Here the Doubter paused.
"Well, sir, well," said Abraham, ironically, "have you any thing further to say on the same subject? any thing equally reliable? Perhaps you can inform us how you got warm again?"
"Well, that doesn't properly belong to the story," said the Doubter, looking around meaningly upon the company. "I meant that it should end there; but, if you insist upon it, I'll answer your question."
"Of course, sir; the matter requires explanation. It comes to rather an abrupt conclusion."
"The way I got warm, then, was this: I picked up a skull when I was leaving the premises. It was full of hot glue. The fellows that were carrying me got their hands frostbitten and had to let go at last. I fell on an island. The first thing I struck was the top of a mountain. I slid down for three miles without stopping. On the way I broke the skull, and spilled the glue all over me, which made me slip so fast that I was quite warm by the time I got to the bottom."
To this Abraham made no reply. Turning away from the Doubter with ferocity and indignation depicted in every feature, he looked silently around upon the company; his breast heaved convulsively; his hands grasped nervously at the hair upon his goatskin; he deliberately tore it out by the roots; he suppressed a rising smile upon the face of every individual in the party by one more look at the Doubter – one terrible, scathing, foreboding look of vengeance on the morrow; and then said, in a suppressed voice, "Gentlemen, suppose we turn in; it must be twelve o'clock."
