Hitty, Her First Hundred Years/Chapter 6

When sailors speak of dying, they say they are going to “join the fishes.” I came to understand the meaning of this phrase as few before me can have done. At first, it was not so bad, for I had become entangled with some of the wreckage from the ship. Indeed, I floated about for a long time quite comfortably on a coil of rope till a particularly large wave lifted me off and rolled me over on my face. This was rather less pleasant, but I was still in no mood to be critical when I remembered my narrow escape from the flames.

Here, as I sit at my ease in the antique shop and think of those days and nights that I was tossed from wave to wave, even I find it hard to believe in my own adventures or to think that I could have known those miles of salt sea and tropic sun and stars and felt the touch of those fierce, brightly colored fishes as they came up to nibble at me. They soon gave me up, however, discovering for themselves that I was wood and not to their taste. I was in constant fear that some shark or even a whale might appear and gulp me down with a mouthful of sea water. I could still recall vividly the picture in the Bible at home, and I thought, if a man could be swallowed, how much more easily I might disappear in like manner. But once again a miraculous Providence watched over me.

I think I must have become too water-soaked from days of buffetings to know what went on about me or by what devious and salty ways I came to the Island. But come I did in time along with other bits of wreckage. At any rate, I knew nothing till I found myself in the quiet waters of a rock pool. This was a deep hole worn in the coral and all manner of bright seaweeds clung to

​the sides, trailing long, wavering fingers or tresses like green and scarlet hair in the clear water. Small, shelly creatures were moving about on busy missions of their own, and a huge, spiked starfish was twining about my ankle. But I was too spent to struggle. I cared for nothing but to lie still at last after all the batterings I had suffered. The tropic sun blazed down so fiercely that soon those parts of me which were out of water became dried and all crusted over with salt.

And then, impossible though it seems to believe, I heard voices close by. For a moment I thought I must have confused them with the cries of strange birds and the noise of the surf pounding on nearby reefs. But again they came, and this time I knew them for the familiar ones of Andy and Jeremy Folger. Now, even in my joy, a new fear struck me—suppose they should not come to the pool? Suppose I must lie there and hear them go away again without me? “Oh,” I thought, “to be able to cry out to them just once. To call out aloud: ‘Here, here I am. Take me back to Phoebe.’”

Well, as you have guessed, they found me, else how should I be writing my memoirs today?

Andy bore me back in triumph, and they were all so overjoyed to see me again that no one scolded him for not getting any of the crabs he had been sent to hunt.

“I declare if it ain’t a miracle!” Mrs. Preble exclaimed as Phœbe took me to her heart. “Wherever did you find her, Andy?”

“Down in one of those pools ’long shore,” he explained with pride, “there was some wood and stuff washed up, too; Jeremy’s comin’ with what he can find.”

“Well, it certainly beats all,’ Captain Preble remarked, turning me about between his thumb and forefinger. “It takes us the better part of a day to get here, charts and rudder an’ four pair of oars, an’ she gets here all by herself with no trouble at all.”

“Mercy,” thought I, “how little he knows about it!”

“I guess she never would have got back to me if she wasn’t made of mountain-ash wood,” Phœbe reminded them.

This time her mother did not rebuke her.

​“I wouldn’t have believed how glad I’d be to see that doll again,” she said. “It kind of heartens me up some way. Makes me feel maybe this Island’s not so far from all creation but what something’ll come along to pick us up.”

“You keep your courage right with you, ma’am,” put in Bill Buckle, who was busy hacking away at some underbrush of rich, damp green. “I always said that doll would bring us luck, and I say so now. I don’t care who hears me.”

There was, indeed, no one besides our little party to hear him except some highly colored birds and a number of small brown animals with long tails who ran, chattering, over the branches above us. These, I later learned, were called “monkeys,” and I was to see far more of them before my days on the Island were over.

“I’m afraid she won’t never be what she was ’fore she took to the water,” Reuben pronounced soberly, as he looked me over. “Her clothes and complexion certainly ain’t been improved any!”

“No more have ours,” said Mrs. Preble with a sigh and a glance toward her bedraggled bonnet hanging from a nearby branch.

Phœbe set about repairing my clothes then and there. They dried fast in the glaring sunlight and soon I, too, was dry once. more, though woefully tattered and faded. Still, when I saw how the others had fared I did not feel so badly.

The Island itself was what Captain Preble had predicted, the outermost one of a small group. Although it was scarcely more than a coral reef, still a surprising amount of vegetation grew upon it—palm trees and others I did not know; trailing vines, huge ferns, and great pinkish flowers the Captain called “hibiscus.” Some of the first things they had discovered were a couple of deserted huts made of grass and leaves woven between poles and tree shoots that had been driven into the ground. This had evidently been made some time before, as the leaves were brown and worn away in many places. However, Bill Buckle and the others went to work filling in the gaps and making them tight against the sudden tropic showers which would appear while the sun was still shining brilliantly, to be over before one could take shelter. It was ​fortunate for us that these occurred frequently, for without them we should not have known how to get water. There seemed to be none on the Island, though the men searched the length and breadth of it. However, they were able to catch enough in the kegs to keep from going thirsty long, though they were careful not to waste a single precious drop and to wash in sea water. As to food, they managed rather well, I thought, for there were many fruits of various sorts all about, not to speak of coconuts that the monkeys were forever after. Mrs. Preble did not think much of the coconuts, but Phœbe and Andy enjoyed them hugely after such a long diet of ship’s biscuits and salt meat. For almost the first time in my life I felt regretful that I could not at least taste the white milk the children drank with such relish.

Captain Preble believed that there must be natives on the other larger islands, one of which showed faintly in a distant blue line. He thought that they came sometimes to our Island for fishing or some other purpose and that the huts were shelters they had left behind from their last trip. He did not seem at all anxious to have them pay us a visit, for neither he nor the men believed they would prove friendly. These islands were almost never touched at by vessels, and the reports of those who had were far from pleasant. Every day the Captain would look through his spyglass to see if there were signs of vessels or of any activity whatsoever within his range, and the boats were kept in readiness to launch at the first topsail that should appear over the horizon.

Never shall I forget my first night there in the little grass hut, with the warm, thick darkness all about us and the strange noises. There were scents, too, the like of which I had never known anywhere. Through the gaps in the hut we could see the stars, and this seemed to give Captain Preble a sense of security as he pointed out this and that one to his wife. She got little comfort out of them, however, for she said they were all in the wrong places from where she was used to seeing them and it only made her feel farther off from home.

Considering the situation, she was not so doleful as I had ex​pected her to be. Indeed, when I remember how she had left home with no thought of a longer journey than to Boston and with the jelly still in its glasses on the kitchen table, I could not blame her if she had spells of regret and sinkings of the heart. But she was devoted to the Captain, and his predicament gave her new spirit and resourcefulness.

“Never mind, Dan’l,” I heard her tell him one day when he came up from shore with his spyglass and a rather sober expression, “’t wa’n’t through your fault we’ve come to this. Only it seems to, me if we ever do get back to the State o’ Maine again I’d be so thankful I could write a psalm fit to go alongside of King David’s.”

“Well, I know they say folks have got to take the bitter with the sweet in this world,” the Captain responded, “‘but I must say I can’t see why I had to lose my vessel an’ the biggest catch I ever made an’ when I had you ’n’ Phœbe aboard all to once. No, I must say there’s times when the ways of Providence are beyond me.”

This was the nearest to complaint that I ever heard the Captain make. Before the others he was steady and good-natured, as he had always been, even cracking jokes about their food and general appearance. ‘These certainly did not improve as the days wore on and on. He was careful to keep up his entries in the log book, though, as he said, it was the mate’s duty, not his. They had no pen and ink to write with but after experimenting with a pointed stick dipped in the juice of some dark-blue berries, he managed to scratch down a line or two to mark the days. His “huckleberry ink,” I remember he called it.

And so it went, for I am not quite sure how long. Then, the Captain reported that he saw smoke on the distant island. All the others peered through his glass and confirmed him. Smoke there certainly was. That was all for several more days, and then one morning I remember the Captain and Jeremy Folger came racing up from shore to say that something was heading our way. What it was they could not yet make out, but they thought it looked like a number of low-lying open boats such as natives use. At all events, there was life on the water at last and it was coming toward ​us from the farther island. So the Captain called us all together to discuss what we should do in case they landed. Phœbe was playing in the door of the hut. She had made a house for me out of a beautifully colored conch shell Bill Buckle had found and fixed for me. We both listened to the talk that went on above us, so I remember it all perfectly.

The men were very grave under their beards and coats of tan. I knew that things were going to happen. It seemed like the moments before a thunderstorm.

“Think the chances are they’ll be friendly, Bill?” the Captain was asking. “You’ve had more experience with natives than any of the rest of us.”

Bill looked serious and stared off to sea thoughtfully.

“Well,” he said finally,” these savages are one thing when they come alongside your vessel an’ try to trade you coconuts for knives an’ beads and calico, but they’re another when they outnumber you ten to one an’ you haven’t got any gimcracks to humor ’em with, so I’m not for takin’ chances ’way off here where they might be cannibals like as not!”

I saw the Captain frown and look uneasily toward his wife, who had turned pale at these last words.

“Not that I’m ’lottin’ on any of us gettin’ eaten up, ma’am,” Bill hastened to reassure her, “only I say it’s well to be prepared for anything.”

All agreed to this and soon they were making plans. Jeremy and Reuben were to go down to the shore and hide our boats in a small cave they had discovered, while the Captain and Bill Buckle would remain to keep guard over us. Andy was all for going down to the shore, but Captain Preble ordered him to stay where he was. He also laid down the law to Phœbe.

“You’re to do whatever I tell you,” he told her, “no matter what ’tis. D’you understand?”

“Yes, Father,” she answered. “Will they be all painted up like the Injuns at the Portland Fair?”

They all laughed a little at that, even Mrs. Preble. Then she ​made Phœbe bring me inside the hut with her. Andy had to come, too, but he insisted on staying in the opening that was our door to report what went on. The Captain and Bill Buckle took their places not far distant, each armed with a marlinspike he had brought from the boat. The Captain mourned the fact that his pistol was useless, for his small supply of ammunition had been ruined by salt water.

Andy had very sharp eyes and after some time he could make out that there were a great many boats, all keeping close together as they approached.

“Looks like there was ’most fifty of ’em all told,” he reported, “but it’s hard to tell with the sun shinin’ down so bright. They’re headin’ this way sure enough.”

It was the truth. By the time Reuben and Jeremy were back from their expedition, a host of brown men with no clothes to speak of were swarming up from shore. Some carried what looked like crude spears, others had rough shields, and still others spiked clubs. No one will ever be able to tell if they knew of our presence before they landed. As the Captain had pointed out, they might have seen smoke from several fires we had made. Or, again, they might have come upon some hunting or fishing expedition. As I say, we never knew. Andy crouched in the door and told us all that he could make out.

“They’ve got up to the big tree now,” he said. “The Cap’n an’ Bill have stepped out an’ kind of bowed to ’em. Now they’ve stopped. They’re makin’ signs together. I wonder if Bill knows. what they mean?”

After a while he reported that they were all coming this way. It might have taken them five minutes to reach us, but I know it seemed like hours as we waited there together in the hut. I felt glad when I heard their footsteps padding close at hand. Captain Preble now peered in at the door, beckoning to us to come and stand beside him. I saw Mrs. Preble give one hand to Andy and take Phœbe’s in her other and follow him out into the sunshine. It may have been the strong light after the half darkness of the hut, ​but at any rate there seemed to be hundreds of brown people swarming about us.

“Don’t get wadgetty,” I heard the Captain saying in a low voice. “They ain’t done nothin’ but look at us so far.”

Look they certainly did. I have never seen so many bright, black eyes in so many peering faces. I caught sight of nose-rings and earrings under matted hair, of carved necklaces and bands of metal on wrists, arms, and ankles. It was the resourceful Bill Buckle who conceived the idea of taking off his shirt and exhibiting his tattoo marks. This caused a murmur of what we took to be interest to go about from mouth to mouth. They crowded round him till I thought he would be crushed by all the pressing brown bodies. Their curiosity lasted for some time and gave the rest of us a chance to talk a little among ourselves.

“They act like a parcel of children,” Captain Preble said, “and I hope to glory they stay so.”

Like children they easily tired of what had caught their attention, so next it was Phœbe about whom they began to crowd. This happened during a moment when she had let go her mother’s hand. She had kept me pressed close to her during all this, and the biggest native with the most rings and beads on now caught sight of me between her fingers. He made a queer grunting noise to the rest and they all crowded about, pointing and gesticulating. I could feel Phœbe’s heart thumping under me, but she did not flinch, not even when the big man, who must have been their Chief, since all the rest followed his slightest gesture, reached out and touched me with one enormous brown finger. He turned to the others with another grunt. Then he came back and held out his hand to her.

It was plain enough what he wanted. I knew, even before I heard the Captain’s voice saying in that tone none dared disobey:

“Give her to him, Phœbe.”

Years ago though it is, I cannot even think of that moment without a sense of creeping horror in every peg.

“Not Hitty, Father———” I heard Phœbe falter.

​“You give her to him an’ you do it quick.” Only on that day of the fire on the Diana-Kate had I ever before heard the Captain speak so.

An ugly expression had crept over the big savage’s face as Phœbe hesitated. He was speaking again to the rest and a murmur went round. Not a pleasant one to hear, I can tell you.

Phœbe did as she was told. The next thing I knew I was in his hands. It seemed hard to me to think that I had escaped from a crows’ nest, from fire and the watery deep, only to fall at last into the hands of savages. But there being nothing I could do about it, I waited with what courage I could summon for him to make an end of me. Only a wrench or two with his fingers and I should be reduced to splinters of wood and a few cotton rags. I thought how terrible for Phœbe to see me broken to bits before her eyes. I think for the moment that all of us must have forgotten that I was made of the stuff which has power over evil.

All I can say is that it had power over that brown chief, for instead of finishing me off then and there, he continued to regard me with a sort of childlike awe. He turned me this way and that between his fingers; he moved my legs and arms with serious intentness and I must confess with as great consideration as I have ever known.

Then he beckoned the rest to his side and exhibited my feats for their benefit. Terrified as I was, I could not but take some pride in their open admiration.

“That doll’s brought us luck and no mistake,” I heard Bill Buckle saying to the Captain. “She knows how to handle ’em better ’n we do. They think she’s some kind of a god, that’s what, an’ they ain’t ever seen a jointed one.”

“I believe you’re right, Bill,’ the Captain agreed. “Look at how they watch her, real reverent and like they was in Meetin’.”

“Well, I never did in all my born days!” exclaimed his wife. “I declare, Phœbe, I most believe what the peddler told you myself.”

“Isn’t he going to give her back to me?” Phœbe asked, stretching out her hand pleadingly toward me.

​I saw Bill Buckle catch it quickly in his and pull her toward him.

“Steady there,” he cautioned, “don’t you make no sign of wantin’ her.” Then turning to her father he added, “If my mem’ry don’t fail me, these natives have got some idea ’bout how if they take your god away from you they’ve got you in their power.”

“That’s true,” Jeremy joined in. “I’ve heard folks say so. They won’t do no harm to us long ’s they’ve got her.”

Whether or not the gesture that Phœbe had made had anything to do with it, I shall never know. Her hands had looked as if they were raised in prayer when she reached them out to me. At any rate, the natives seemed even more impressed by me and began making further grunts and motions.

“Well, Hitty,” thought I to myself as the Chief lifted me up for them all to see, “a lot of queer things have happened to you—in the State of Maine and out of it—but this is certainly the queerest!”

At another grunt from him all the natives bowed their heads before me and went through more strange gesturings—and so I was carried away to become a heathen idol.