A Little Boy Lost

Chapter 18

MARTIN PLAYS WITH THE WAVES

After a night spent in the roar of the sea, a drenched and bruised

prisoner among the rocks, it was nice to see the dawn again. No

sooner was it light than Martin set about trying to make his escape.

He had been washed by that big wave into a deep cleft among the

rocks and masses of hard clay, and shut in there he could not see the

water nor anything excepting a patch of sky above him. Now he began

climbing over the stones and crawling and forcing himself through

crevices and other small openings, making a little progress, for he

was sore from his bruises and very weak from his long fast, and at

intervals, tired and beaten, he would drop down crying with pain and

misery. But Martin was by nature a very resolute little boy, and

after two or three minutes' rest his tears would cease, and he would

be up struggling on determinedly as before. He was like some little

wild animal when it finds itself captive in a cage or box or room,

who tries without ceasing to find a way out. There may be no way,

but it will not give up trying to find one. And at last, after so

much trying, Martin's efforts were rewarded: he succeeded in getting

into the steep passage by which he had come down to the sea on the

previous day, and in the end got to the top of the cliff once more.

It was a great relief, and after resting a little while he began to

feel glad and happy at the sight before him: there was the glorious

sea again, not as he had seen it before, its wide surface roughened

by the wind and flecked with foam; for now the water was smooth, but

not still; it rose and fell in vast rollers, or long waves that were

like ridges, wave following wave in a very grand and ordered manner.

And as he gazed, the clouds broke and floated away, and the sky grew

clear and bright, and then all at once the great red sun came up out

of the waters!

But it was impossible for him to stay there longer when there was

nothing to eat; his extreme hunger compelled him to get up and leave

the cliff and the sandy hills behind it; and then for an hour or two

he walked feebly about searching for sweet roots, but finding none.

It would have gone hard with him then if he had not seen some low,

dark-looking bushes at a distance on the dry, yellow plain, and gone

to them. They looked like yew-bushes, and when he got to them he

found that they were thickly covered with small berries; on some

bushes they were purple-black, on others crimson, but all were ripe,

and many small birds were there feasting on them. The berries were

pleasant to the taste, and he feasted with the little birds on them

until his hunger was satisfied; and then, with his mouth and fingers

stained purple with the juice, he went to sleep in the shade of one

of the bushes. There, too, he spent the whole of that day and the

night, hearing the low murmur of the sea when waking, and when

morning came he was strong and happy once more, and, after filling

himself with the fruit, set off to the sea again.

Arrived at the cliff, he began walking along the edge, and in about

an hour's time came to the end of it, for there it sloped down to

the water, and before him, far as he could see, there was a wide,

shingled beach with low sand-hills behind it. With a shout of joy he

ran down to the margin, and the rest of that day he spent dabbling

in the water, gathering beautiful shells and seaweed and

strangely-painted pebbles into heaps, then going on and on again,

still picking up more beautiful riffraff on the margin, only to leave,

it all behind him at last. Never had he spent a happier day, and

when it came to an end he found a sheltered spot not far from the sea,

so that when he woke in the night he would still hear the deep, low

murmur of the waves on the beach.

Many happy days he spent in the same way, with no living thing to

keep him company, except the little white and grey sanderlings that

piped so shrill and clear as they flitted along the margin before him;

and the great sea-gulls that uttered hoarse, laughter-like cries as

they soared and hovered above his head. "Oh, happy birds!" exclaimed

Martin, clapping his hands, and shouting in answer to their cries.

Every day Martin grew more familiar with the sea, and loved it more,

and it was his companion and playmate. He was bolder than the little

restless sanderlings that ran and flitted before the advancing waves,

and so never got their pretty white and grey plumage wet: often he

would turn to meet the coming wave, and let it break round and rush

past him, and then in a moment he would be standing knee-deep in the

midst of a great sheet of dazzling white foam, until with a long

hiss as it fled back, drawing the round pebbles with it, it would be

gone, and he would laugh and shout with glee. What a grand old

play-fellow the sea was! And it loved him, like the big spotted cat

of the hills, and only pretended to be angry with him when it wanted

to play, and would do him no harm. And still he was not satisfied,

but grew bolder and bolder, putting himself in its power and trusting

to its mercy. He could play better with his clothes off; and one day,

chasing a great receding wave as far as it would go, he stood up

bravely to encounter the succeeding wave, but it was greater than

the last, and lifting him in its great green arms it carried him high

up till it broke with a mighty roar on the beach; then instead of

leaving him stranded there it rushed back still bearing him in its

arms out into the deep. Further and further from the shore it

carried him, until he became terrified, and throwing out his little

arms towards the land, he cried aloud, "Mother! Mother!"

He was not calling to his own mother far away on the great plain; he

had forgotten her. Now he only thought of the beautiful woman of the

Hills, who was so strong, and loved him and made him call her

"Mother"; and to her he cried in his need for help. Now he

remembered her warm, protecting bosom, and how she had cried every

night at the fear of losing him; how when he ran from her she

followed him, calling to him to return. Ah, how cold was the sea's

bosom, how bitter its lips!

Struggling still with the great wave, struggling in vain, blinded

and half-choked with salt water, he was driven violently against a

great black object tumbling about in the surf, and with all the

strength of his little hands he clung to it. The water rolled over

him, and beat against him, but he would not lose his hold; and at

last there came a bigger wave and lifted him up and cast him right

on to the object he was clinging to. It was as if some enormous

monster of the sea had caught him up and put him in that place, just

as the Lady of the Hills had often snatched him up from the edge of

some perilous precipice to set him down in a safe place.

There he lay exhausted, stretched out at full length, so tossed

about on the billows that he had a sensation of being in a swing;

but the sea grew quiet at last, and when he looked up it was dark,

the stars glittering in the dim blue vault above, and the smooth,

black water reflecting them all round him, so that he seemed to be

floating suspended between two vast, starry skies, one immeasurably

far above, the other below him. All night, with only the twinkling,

trembling stars for company, he lay there, naked, wet, and cold,

thirsty with the bitter taste of sea-salt in his mouth, never daring

to stir, listening to the continual lapping sound of the water.

Morning dawned at last; the sea was green once more, the sky blue,

and beautiful with the young, fresh light. He was lying on an old

raft of black, water-logged spars and planks lashed together with

chains and rotting ropes. But alas! there was no shore in sight, for

all night long he had been drifting, drifting further and further

away from land.

A strange habitation for Martin, the child of the plain, was that

old raft! It had been made by shipwrecked mariners, long, long ago,

and had floated about the sea until it had become of the sea, like a

half-submerged floating island; brown and many-coloured seaweeds had

attached themselves to it; strange creatures, half plant and half

animal, grew on it; and little shell-fish and numberless slimy,

creeping things of the sea made it their dwelling-place. It was

about as big as the floor of a large room, all rough, black, and

slippery, with the seaweed floating like ragged hair many yards long

around it, and right in the middle of the raft there was a large

hole where the wood had rotted away. Now, it was very curious that

when Martin looked over the side of the raft he could see down into

the clear, green water a few fathoms only; but when he crept to the

edge of the hole and looked into the water there, he was able to see

ten times further down. Looking in this hole, he saw far down a

strange, fish-shaped creature, striped like a zebra, with long

spines on its back, moving about to and fro. It disappeared, and then,

very much further down, something moved, first like a shadow, then

like a great, dark form; and as it came up higher it took the shape

of a man, but dim and vast like a man-shaped cloud or shadow that

floated in the green translucent water. The shoulders and head

appeared; then it changed its position and the face was towards him

with the vast eyes, that had a dim, greyish light in them, gazing up

into his. Martin trembled as he gazed, not exactly with fear, but

with excitement, because he recognized in this huge water-monster

under him that Old Man of the Sea who had appeared and talked to him

in his dream when he fell asleep among the rocks. Could it be,

although he was asleep at the time, that the Old Man really had

appeared before him, and that his eyes had been open just enough to

see him?

By-and-by the cloud-like face disappeared, and did not return though

he watched for it a long time. Then sitting on the black, rotten

wood and brown seaweed he gazed over the ocean, a vast green, sunlit

expanse with no shore and no living thing upon it. But after a while

he began to think that there was some living thing in it, which was

always near him though he could not see what it was. From time to

time the surface of the sea was broken just as if some huge fish had

risen to the surface and then sunk again without showing itself. It

was something very big, judging from the commotion it made in the

water; and at last he did see it or a part of it--a vast brown

object which looked like a gigantic man's shoulder, but it might

have been the back of a whale. It was no sooner seen than gone, but

in a very short time after its appearance cries as of birds were

heard at a great distance. The cries came from various directions,

growing louder and louder, and before long Martin saw many birds

flying towards him.

On arrival they began to soar and circle round above him, all

screaming excitedly. They were white birds with long wings and long

sharp beaks, and were very much like gulls, except that they had an

easier and swifter flight.

Martin rejoiced at seeing them, for he had been in the greatest

terror at the strangeness and loneliness of the sea now that there

was no land in sight. Sitting on the black raft he was constantly

thinking of the warning words his mother of the hills had spoken

--that the sea would kiss him with cold salt lips and take him down

into the depths where he would never see the light again. O how

strange the sea was to him now, how lonely, how terrible! But birds

that with their wings could range over the whole world were of the

land, and now seemed to bring the land near him with their white

forms and wild cries. How could they help him? He did not know, he

did not ask; but he was not alone now that they had come to him, and

his terror was less.

And still more birds kept coming; and as the morning wore on the

crowd of birds increased until they were in hundreds, then in

thousands, perpetually wheeling and swooping and rising and hovering

over him in a great white cloud. And they were of many kinds, mostly

white, some grey, others sooty brown or mottled, and some wholly

black. Then in the midst of the crowrd of birds he saw one of great

size wheeling about like a king or giant among the others, with wings

of amazing length, wild eyes of a glittering yellow, and a yellow

beak half as long as Martin's arm, with a huge vulture-like hook at

the end. Now when this mighty bird swooped close down over his head,

fanning him with its immense wings, Martin again began to be alarmed

at its formidable appearance; and as more and more birds came, with

more of the big kind, and the wild outcry they made increased, his

fear and astonishment grew; then all at once these feelings rose to

extreme terror and amazement at the sight of a new bird-like

creature a thousand times bigger than the largest one in the

circling crowd above, coming swiftly towards him. He saw that it was

not flying but swimming or gliding over the surface of the sea; and

its body was black, and above the body were many immense white wings

of various shapes, which stood up like a white cloud.

Overcome with terror he fell flat on the raft, hiding his face in

the brown seaweed that covered it; then in a few minutes the sea

became agitated and rocked him in his raft, and a wave came over him

which almost swept him into the sea. At the same time the outcry of

the birds were redoubled until he was nearly deafened by their

screams, and the screams seemed to shape themselves into words.

"Martin! Martin!" the birds seemed to be screaming. "Look up, Martin,

look up, look up!" The whole air above and about him seemed to be

full of the cries, and every cry said to him, "Martin! Martin! lookup!

lookup!"

Although dazed with the awful din and almost fainting with terror

and weakness, he could not resist the command. Pressing his hands on

the raft he at last struggled up to his knees, and saw that the

feared bird-like monster had passed him by: he saw that it was a

ship with a black hull, its white sails spread, and that the motion

of the water and the wave that swept over him had been created by

the ship as it came close to the raft. It was now rapidly gliding

from him, but still very near, and he saw a crowd of strange-looking

rough men, with sun-browned faces and long hair and shaggy beards,

leaning over the bulwarks staring at him. They had seen with

astonishment the corpse, as they thought, of a little naked white

boy lying on the old black raft, with a multitude of sea-birds

gathered to feed on him; now when they saw him get up on his knees

and look at them, they uttered a great cry, and began rushing

excitedly hither and thither, to pull at ropes and lower a boat.

Martin did not know what they were doing; he only knew that they

were men in a ship, but he was now too weak and worn-out to look at

or think of more than one thing at a time, and what he was looking at

now was the birds. For no sooner had he looked up and seen the ship

than their wild cries ceased, and they rose up and up like a white

cloud to scatter far and wide over sky and sea. For some moments he

continued watching them, listening to their changed voices, which

now had a very soft and pleasant sound, as if they were satisfied

and happy. It made him happy to hear them, and he lifted his hands

up and smiled; then, relieved of his terror and overcome with

weariness, he closed his eyes and dropped once more full length upon

his bed of wet seaweed. At that the men stared into each other's face,

a very strange startled look coming into their eyes. And no wonder!

For long, long months, running to years, they had been cruising in

those lonely desolate seas, thousands of miles from home, seeing no

land nor any green thing, nor dear face of woman or child: and now

by some strange chance a child had come to them, and even while they

were making all haste to rescue it, putting their arms out to take

it from the sea, its life had seemingly been snatched from them!

But he was only sleeping.

NOTE

_When I arranged with Mr. Hudson for the publication of an

American Edition of_ A Little Boy Lost, _I asked him to write a

special foreword to his American readers. He replied with a

characteristic letter, and, taking him at his word. I am printing it

on the following pages_.