- end_line
- 10390
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:25.203Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 10328
- text
- this project into execution. About midnight, as I imagined, I arose and
drew the slide. The natives, just as I had expected, started up, while
some of them asked, ‘Arware poo awa, Tommo?’ (where are you going,
Tommo?) ‘Wai’ (water) I laconically answered, grasping the calabash. On
hearing my reply they sank back again, and in a minute or two I returned
to my mat, anxiously awaiting the result of the experiment.
One after another the savages, turning restlessly, appeared to resume
their slumbers, and rejoicing at the stillness which prevailed, I was
about to rise again from my couch, when I heard a slight rustling--a
dark form was intercepted between me and the doorway--the slide was
drawn across it, and the individual, whoever he was, returned to
his mat. This was a sad blow to me; but as it might have aroused the
suspicions of the islanders to have made another attempt that night, I
was reluctantly obliged to defer it until the next. Several times after
I repeated the same manoeuvre, but with as little success as before.
As my pretence for withdrawing from the house was to allay my thirst,
Kory-Kory either suspecting some design on my part, or else prompted
by a desire to please me, regularly every evening placed a calabash of
water by my side.
Even, under these inauspicious circumstances I again and again renewed
the attempt, but when I did so, my valet always rose with me, as if
determined I should not remove myself from his observation. For
the present, therefore, I was obliged to abandon the attempt; but I
endeavoured to console myself with the idea that by this mode I might
yet effect my escape.
Shortly after Marnoo’s visit I was reduced to such a state that it was
with extreme difficulty I could walk, even with the assistance of a
spear, and Kory-Kory, as formerly, was obliged to carry me daily to the
stream.
For hours and hours during the warmest part of the day I lay upon my
mat, and while those around me were nearly all dozing away in careless
ease, I remained awake, gloomily pondering over the fate which it
appeared now idle for me to resist, when I thought of the loved friends
who were thousands and thousands of miles from the savage island in
which I was held a captive, when I reflected that my dreadful fate would
for ever be concealed from them, and that with hope deferred they might
continue to await my return long after my inanimate form had blended
with the dust of the valley--I could not repress a shudder of anguish.
How vividly is impressed upon my mind every minute feature of the scene
which met my view during those long days of suffering and sorrow. At my
request my mats were always spread directly facing the door, opposite
which, and at a little distance, was the hut of boughs that Marheyo was
building.
Whenever my gentle Fayaway and Kory-Kory, laying themselves down beside
me, would leave me awhile to uninterrupted repose, I took a strange
interest in the slightest movements of the eccentric old warrior. All
alone during the stillness of the tropical mid-day, he would pursue his
quiet work, sitting in the shade and weaving together the leaflets of
his cocoanut branches, or rolling upon his knee the twisted fibres of
bark to form the cords with which he tied together the thatching of
his tiny house. Frequently suspending his employment, and noticing my
melancholy eye fixed upon him, he would raise his hand with a gesture
expressive of deep commiseration, and then moving towards me slowly,
would enter on tip-toes, fearful of disturbing the slumbering natives,
and, taking the fan from my hand, would sit before me, swaying it gently
to and fro, and gazing earnestly into my face.
- title
- Chunk 3