CHAPTER IV.

Ships of War visit Pitcairn.-Letter of Captain Wood, R.N.-Arrival of Baron Thierry and others.-Aboriginal Inhabitants of Pitcairn Island.

DURING the next few years Pitcairn Island was visited by a ship of war, by a missionary vessel, having on board the Rev. Mr. Heath, of London, and several traders and American whalers in want of water and vegetables. Many of these had previously touched at the island for the same purpose, and so strictly honest were the islanders in their dealings, that their word was a sufficient guaranty for the correctness of the settled amount of supplies bartered, such as soap, oil, and other commodities. Even in times of privation and scarcity after a bad season, there was no diminution in amount or increased payment demanded by the islanders for the supplies sent to the ships. The respect which these rough merchantmen and whalers felt for the Pitcairners was such that one sailor declared, "That if any insult were to be offered to any of them, and especially to the female part of the community, a man would not be long alive after he came on board."

H.M.'s ship Curaçoa, Captain Jenkin Jones, arrived most opportunely in August, 1841, when influenza prevailed among the inhabitants of so severe a character as almost to decimate their numbers. Their stock of medicine was expended, and Mr. Nobbs's efforts to arrest the course of the malady seemed unavailing. The surgeon of the ship was sent on shore immediately with all necessary supplies and remedies for the sick, and in the course of a few days many of the sufferers were pronounced convalescent.

Captain Jones, having ascertained the spot where the Bounty had been sunk, succeeded, with some difficulty, in raising the charred hull, and found that such had been the solidity of her timbers, that her "heart of oak" had survived the power of fire and water, and the effects of submersion for half a century.

Various ornamental articles were manufactured out of the remains of the old ship, which the islanders sent as presents to several of their friends in England; and Isabella Christian, widow of the mutineer, although at a very advanced age, confided to the care of Captain Jones several yards of beautifully manufactured tappa cloth as a present to "Peter's wife."* She had a perfect recollection of Peter Heywood, the young midshipman, and also of Captain Cook when he visited Tahiti. She died a

month after the Curaçoa left the island, in August, 1841. In the course of the year 1845 fever again broke out among the islanders, and, at the same time, consumption and rheumatism were rife among them. The recurrence of these maladies simultaneously was traced to circumstances which invariably produced the same results—a long drought, succeeded by two or three weeks of rain, and the wind prevailing from the north-west.

April 16th, 1845, is marked in the island register by the occurrence of a fearful hurricane, which did infinite damage to both trees and plantations, and is thus described. by an eye-witness:

"For several days past the weather has been cloudy, with occasional showers. With the wind south-southwest, it began to rain in good earnest. As the sun declined the wind increased. At sunset it blew a gale; all hands employed in securing the roofs of their houses, and

*The widow of Captain Peter Heywood, R. N.

making all snug before dark. A dirty night was anticipated, and all our fears were realized. At 10 P.M. the wind shifted four or five points to the westward, and the sheet-lightning began to break the monotony of the lucid atmosphere. By midnight a perfect typhoon raged above and around us; the whole course of the heavens was in a continual blaze, and the thunder, although not so very loud, with the exception of one burst, was incessant. From the position of the wind, which veered and hauled four or five points, the houses were a good deal sheltered from its violence, or they most assuredly would have been prostrated; therefore the most of us, who passed a sleepless night, were, in mercy, permitted to remain quiet in our houses. Very frequently during the night loud crashes were heard, which we supposed were the trees in the higher parts of the island yielding to the fury of the storm. The noise did not proceed from the falling and crashing of trees, but from a cause of which at the time we were happily ignorant. At daylight a man, much alarmed, came to my house, saying a part of the island had given way and was falling into the sea. From the door of my house I observed imperfectly a spot from which a portion of earth had been detached, and felt certain that it was an avalanche, occasioned by the wind acting upon the trees, and the torrents of rain which fell detaching the earth from the part above it. So great was the consternation and amazement of the natives, that although they had seen the spot from which the earth had slipped every day of their lives, yet they could not so far collect their ideas as to remember the original appearance of the place, whose property it had been, nor the locality near it. As to the cause of the disruption, various opinions prevailed, and what may be easily referred to natural causes, and those not recondite either, would to persons so inex

perienced as our community appear both mysterious and awful. I will endeavor to describe in a few words what presented itself to our view at daylight. The place in question was situated at the head of the ravine, and immense pieces of rock were borne along slowly but unresistingly, and about three hundred cocoa-nut trees were torn up by the roots and carried into the sea. So tenacious was the heterogeneous stream, that some, being displaced from their original situation, remained in an upright position for some time, and when they fell it was many yards from the spot where they had come to maturity. A considerable portion of this aquatic lava (for indeed its appearance had a distant resemblance to the molten streams of an active volcano) had reached the sea at daylight; and when some of our people ventured to the edge of the precipice, they found to their dismay the boat-houses and boats left there had disappeared. Two families, whose houses were adjacent to the ravine, removed their household goods, fearing that the foundations of their dwellings might become undermined and bury them underneath; but in a few hours the stream had ceased to flow, and confidence was in a measure restored. We had now time to turn our attention to other parts of the island. At Bounty Bay a great quantity of earth had been washed away; a yam-ground, containing one thousand yams, had disappeared entirely; several fishing-boats destroyed; the Bounty's guns washed to the edge of the surf; and large pieces of rock so obstructed the harbor that, if a ship should come, it is doubtful whether a passage could be found for her boat to pass through. In the interior all the plantains were destroyed, one-half in full bearing, and the other half designed for the year 1846, so that this very valuable article of food we shall be without for a long time. The fact is, from this date, April 16th,

until August, we shall be perished for want of food. But 'God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb;' and we humbly trust that the late monitions of Providence, viz., drought, sickness, and storm, which severally have been inflicted on us this year, may be sanctified to us all, as bringing us into closer communion with God. Unfortunately the island is subject to such visitations; on one occasion, some years previously, the bread-fruit trees and orange-gardens were ravaged by the gale."

A painful incident is recorded in February, 1847—an accident which occurred to Reuben Nobbs when out shooting goats among the mountains. His foot slipped, and he fell on his loaded musket, which occasioned its discharge, the ball passing through his hip-joint and coming out near the knee. Fortunately, there were persons at hand, who tore up their shirts and staunched the blood, and the sad news being conveyed to the village, all the inhabitants who heard of it hastened to the spot to afford him assistance. They carried him tenderly to his home stretched in a canoe, and the greater part of the men sat up during the night in case they should be required. For many days he remained in a precarious state from the depth of the wound, and his father experienced great difficulty in ascertaining if any wadding had passed through with the ball. In the midst of their anxiety the intelligence arrived that a ship had been descried in the offing. "Thank God!" was the general exclamation; and as she anchored, canoes instantly put off to obtain necessaries for their suffering friend. This ship proved to be the Spy, Captain Woolridge, who landed with the surgeon, and, to the relief of all, he pronounced the state of the patient less dangerous than had been imagined, but said that the youth had a narrow escape from death, and would be lame for life.