Blown to Bits | Page 6

gale was at its worst. Darkness that
could be felt between the flashes of lightning. Thunder that was nearly
drowned by the roaring of the wind an' the crashing of everything all
round. To save their lives the people had to fling themselves into
ditches and hollows of the ground. Mr. Ross and some of his people
were lying in the shelter of a wall near his house. There had been a
schooner lying not far off. When Mr. Ross raised his head cautiously
above the wall to have a look to wind'ard he saw the schooner comin'
straight for him on the top of a big wave. 'Hold on!' he shouted, fell flat
down, and laid hold o' the nearest bush. Next moment the wave burst
right over the wall, roared on up to the garden, 150 yards above
highwater mark, and swept his house clean away! By good fortune the
wall stood the shock, and the schooner stuck fast just before reachin' it,
but so near that the end of the jib-boom passed right over the place

where the household lay holdin' on for dear life and half drowned. It
was a tremendous night," concluded the captain, "an' nearly everything
on the islands was wrecked, but they've survived it, as you'll see.
Though it's seven years since that cyclone swep' over them, they're all
right and goin' ahead again, full swing, as if nothin' had happened."
"And is Ross III. still king?" asked Nigel with much interest.
"Ay--at least he was king a few years ago when I passed this way and
had occasion to land to replace a tops'l yard that had been carried
away."
"Then you won't arrive as a stranger?"
"I should think not," returned the captain, getting up and gazing
steadily at the atoll or group of islets enclosed within a coral ring which
they were gradually approaching.
Night had descended, however, and the gale had decreased almost to a
calm, ere they steered through the narrow channel--or what we may call
a broken part of the ring--which led to the calm lagoon inside. Nigel
Roy leaned over the bow, watching with profound attention the
numerous phosphorescent fish and eel-like creatures which darted
hither and thither like streaks of silver from beneath their advancing
keel. He had enough of the naturalist in him to arouse in his mind keen
interest in the habits and action of the animal life around him, and these
denizens of the coral-groves were as new to him as their appearance
was unexpected.
"You'll find 'em very kind and hospitable, lad," said the captain to his
son.
"What, the fish?"
"No, the inhabitants. Port--port--steady!"
"Steady it is!" responded the man at the wheel.

"Let go!" shouted the captain.
A heavy plunge, followed by the rattling of chains and swinging round
of the brig, told that they had come to an anchor in the lagoon of the
Cocos-Keeling Islands.
CHAPTER III.
INTERESTING PARTICULARS OF VARIOUS KINDS.
By the first blush of dawn Nigel Roy hastened on deck, eager to see the
place in regard to which his father's narrative had awakened in him
considerable interest.
It not only surpassed but differed from all his preconceived ideas. The
brig floated on the bosom of a perfectly calm lake of several miles in
width, the bottom of which, with its bright sand and brilliant coral-beds,
could be distinctly seen through the pellucid water. This lake was
encompassed by a reef of coral which swelled here and there into
tree-clad islets, and against which the breakers of the Indian Ocean
were dashed into snowy foam in their vain but ceaseless efforts to
invade the calm serenity of the lagoon. Smaller islands, rich with
vegetation, were scattered here and there within the charmed circle,
through which several channels of various depths and sizes connected
the lagoon with the ocean.
"We shall soon have the king himself off to welcome us," said Captain
Roy as he came on deck and gave a sailor-like glance all round the
horizon and then up at the sky from the mere force of habit. "Visitors
are not numerous here. A few scientific men have landed now and
again; Darwin the great naturalist among others in 1836, and Forbes in
1878. No doubt they'll be very glad to welcome Nigel Roy in this year
of grace 1883."
"But I'm not a naturalist, father, more's the pity."
"No matter, lad; you're an ammytoor first mate, an' pr'aps a poet may
count for somethin' here. They lead poetical lives and are fond o'

poetry."
"Perhaps that accounts for the fondness you say they have for you,
father."
"Just so, lad. See!--there's a boat puttin' off already: the king, no
doubt."
He was right. Mr. Ross, the appointed governor, and "King of the
Cocos Islands," was soon