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Updated: June 23, 2025
"I'm sure," continued Maryann, "it's past my comprehension; for instead of being dreadfully shocked, as I had expected, Mrs Osten threw her arms round Master Will's neck and blessed him and the cannibal, too, and said she hoped to be spared to see 'em united, though she wouldn't like them to remain on the coal island in the Paphysic.
To these sufferers Will Osten now gave his undivided attention, washing and bandaging wounds, amputating limbs, and endeavouring by every means to relieve them, and save their lives, while to the dying he tried, in the little Spanish he knew, to convey words of spiritual comfort, sometimes finding it impossible to do more than whisper the name of Jesus in a dying ear, while hurriedly passing from one to another.
Nekhludoff, without listening to Osten, turned to his sister: "How glad I am that you came!" In the course of their conversation he told her how sorry he felt for having fallen out with her husband; that he had intended to return and confess that he was at fault, but that he knew not how her husband would take it. "I spoke improperly to him, and it tortured me," he said. "I knew it.
"What!" exclaimed Will Osten, "must we fight without clothing?" "An' wid painted skins?" said Larry. "Yes, unless you would be a special mark for the enemy," replied Bukawanga; "but you have no chance if you don't become in every way like one of us." Seeing that the man was in earnest, they were fain to submit.
"Never mind, Larry," said Will Osten, assisting to spread the sea-biscuit and salt junk on one of the thwarts; "there's a good time coming." "Sure, so's Christmas, doctor, but it's a long way off," said Larry. "Fetch me the scales; now then, doctor, hold 'em," said the captain, carefully weighing out a portion of biscuit and meat which he handed to one of the men.
In the midst of a whirlwind of dust and leaves, and a tempest of roars and yells, the bold native managed to drive his knife three times into the animal's side, when it rolled over with a savage growl and expired. "Are ye hurt, Bunco?" inquired Will Osten with much anxiety, when the man rose, covered with dust and blood, and stood before them. "No moche hurt, only scrash a bit."
The whole of this exciting scene passed so quickly, that it was only when the boat was far away, like a speck on the sea, that Will Osten realised the fact that he had actually said farewell, perhaps for over, to his late comrades.
The weapon was truly aimed; it hit the monkey on the back, causing it to drop the hat and vanish from the spot shrieking. "Well done, Larry!" cried Will Osten; "why didn't you warn us to expect visits from such brutes, Bunco?" "Why, cause me tink you know all 'bout 'im. Hab larn 'im from Jo Gruffy." "From who?" "From Jo Gruffy.
Come, Larry, the moment he shows symptoms of reviving we must bolt. Of course he knows who knocked him down, and will never forgive us." "That's true, O murther!" exclaimed Larry, with a mingled look of contrition and anxiety. "Depend upon it they'll kill us all," continued Osten. "And bake an' ait us," groaned Larry.
"The pass up to it is narrow; two or three stout fellows could hold it against an army of savages." "Av there was only a cave now for to live in," said Larry, looking round him. "Wot's that?" exclaimed Muggins, pointing to a hole in the perpendicular cliff a short distance above the spot where they stood. "Ain't that a cave?" Will Osten clambered up and disappeared in the hole.
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