- end_line
- 11235
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:25.206Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 11165
- text
- Leaving these fellows to trudge on with their loads, Toby and his
companions now pushed forward again, as the sun was already low in the
west. They came upon the valleys of Nukuheva on one side of the bay,
where the highlands slope off into the sea. The men-of-war were still
lying in the harbour, and as Toby looked down upon them, the strange
events which had happened so recently, seemed all a dream.
They soon descended towards the beach, and found themselves in Jimmy’s
house before it was well dark. Here he received another welcome from
his Nukuheva wives, and after some refreshments in the shape of cocoanut
milk and poee-poee, they entered a canoe (the Typee of course going
along) and paddled off to a whaleship which was anchored near the shore.
This was the vessel in want of men. Our own had sailed some time before.
The captain professed great pleasure at seeing Toby, but thought from
his exhausted appearance that he must be unfit for duty. However, he
agreed to ship him, as well as his comrade, as soon as he should arrive.
Toby begged hard for an armed boat, in which to go round to Typee and
rescue me, notwithstanding the promises of Jimmy. But this the captain
would not hear of, and told him to have patience, for the sailor would
be faithful to his word. When, too, he demanded the five silver dollars
for Jimmy, the captain was unwilling to give them. But Toby insisted
upon it, as he now began to think that Jimmy might be a mere mercenary,
who would be sure to prove faithless if not well paid. Accordingly he
not only gave him the money, but took care to assure him, over and over
again, that as soon as he brought me aboard he would receive a still
larger sum.
Before sun-rise the next day, Jimmy and the Typee started in two of the
ship’s boats, which were manned by tabooed natives. Toby, of course, was
all eagerness to go along, but the sailor told him that if he did, it
would spoil all; so, hard as it was, he was obliged to remain.
Towards evening he was on the watch, and descried the boats turning the
headland and entering the bay. He strained his eyes, and thought he saw
me; but I was not there. Descending from the mast almost distracted, he
grappled Jimmy as he struck the deck, shouting in a voice that startled
him, ‘Where is Tommo?’ The old fellow faltered, but soon recovering,
did all he could to soothe him, assuring him that it had proved to be
impossible to get me down to the shore that morning; assigning many
plausible reasons, and adding that early on the morrow he was going to
visit the bay again in a French boat, when, if he did not find me on the
beach--as this time he certainly expected to--he would march right back
into the valley, and carry me away at all hazards. He, however, again
refused to allow Toby to accompany him. Now, situated as Toby was, his
sole dependence for the present was upon this Jimmy, and therefore he
was fain to comfort himself as well as he could with what the old sailor
told him. The next morning, however, he had the satisfaction of seeing
the French boat start with Jimmy in it. Tonight, then, I will see him,
thought Toby; but many a long day passed before he ever saw Tommo again.
Hardly was the boat out of sight, when the captain came forward and
ordered the anchor weighed; he was going to sea.
Vain were all Toby’s ravings--they were disregarded; and when he came to
himself, the sails were set, and the ship fast leaving the land.
... ‘Oh!’ said he to me at our meeting, ‘what sleepless nights were
mine. Often I started from my hammock, dreaming you were before me, and
upbraiding me for leaving you on the island.’
. . . . . . .
There is little more to be related. Toby left this vessel at New
Zealand, and after some further adventures, arrived home in less than
two years after leaving the Marquesas. He always thought of me as
dead--and I had every reason to suppose that he too was no more; but a
strange meeting was in store for us, one which made Toby’s heart all the
lighter.
- title
- Chunk 8