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THE CORAL ISLAND
A Tale Of The Pacific Ocean
BY
R. M. BALLANTYNE
PREFACE
I was a boy when I went through the wonderful adventures herein setdown. With the memory of my boyish feelings strong upon me, I presentmy book specially to boys, in the earnest hope that they may derivevaluable information, much pleasure, great profit, and unboundedamusement from its pages.
One word more. If there is any boy or man who loves to be melancholyand morose, and who cannot enter with kindly sympathy into the regionsof fun, let me seriously advise him to shut my book and put it away. Itis not meant for him.
RALPH ROVER.
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I. MY EARLY LIFE AND CHARACTER II. THE DEPARTURE—A DREADFUL STORM III. THE CORAL ISLAND IV. OUR ISLAND DESCRIBED—CURIOUS DISCOVERIES V. ENCHANTING EXCURSIONS AMONG THE CORAL GROVES VI. AN EXCURSION INTO THE INTERIOR VII. HORRIBLE ENCOUNTER WITH A SHARK VIII. THE BEAUTIES OF THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA TEMPT PETERKIN TO DIVE IX. PREPARE FOR A JOURNEY ROUND THE ISLAND X. MAKE DISCOVERY OF MANY EXCELLENT ROOTS AND FRUITS XI. EFFECTS OF OVER-EATING, AND REFLECTIONS THEREON XII. SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE TANK XIII. NOTABLE DISCOVERY AT THE SPOUTING CLIFFS XIV. STRANGE PECULIARITY OF THE TIDES XV. BOAT-BUILDING EXTRAORDINARY XVI. THE BOAT LAUNCHED—WE VISIT THE CORAL REEF XVII. A MONSTER WAVE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES XVIII. AN AWFUL STORM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES XVIX. AN UNEXPECTED VISIT AND AN APPALLING BATTLE XX. INTERCOURSE WITH THE SAVAGES—CANNIBALISM PREVENTED XXI. A SAIL!—AN UNEXPECTED SALUTE XXII. I FALL INTO THE HANDS OF PIRATES XXIII. A STRANGE SAIL, AND A STRANGE CREW XXIV. UNPLEASANT PROSPECTS XXV. THE SANDAL-WOOD PARTY XXVI. MISCHIEF BREWING—MY BLOOD IS MADE TO RUN COLD XXVII. REFLECTIONS—THE WOUNDED MANXXVIII. ALONE ON THE DEEP—NECESSITY THE MOTHER OF INVENTION XXIX. THE EFFECT OF A CANNON-SHOT XXX. THE VOYAGE XXXI. A STRANGE AND BLOODY BATTLE XXXII. AN UNEXPECTED DISCOVERYXXXIII. THE FLIGHT—THE PURSUIT XXXIV. IMPRISONMENT—SINKING HOPES XXXV. CONCLUSION
THE CORAL ISLAND
Chapter I
The beginning—My early life and character—I thirst for adventure inforeign lands, and go to sea.
Roving has always been, and still is, my ruling passion, the joy of myheart, the very sunshine of my existence. In childhood, in boyhood, andin man's estate, I have been a rover; not a mere rambler among thewoody glens and upon the hilltops of my own native land, but anenthusiastic rover throughout the length and breadth of the wide, wideworld.
It was a wild, black night of howling storm, the night on which I wasborn on the foaming bosom of the broad Atlantic Ocean. My father was asea-captain; my grandfather was a sea-captain; my great-grandfather hadbeen a marine. Nobody could tell positively what occupation hisfather had followed; but my dear mother used to assert that he had beena midshipman, whose grandfather, on the mother's side, had been anadmiral in the Royal Navy. At any rate, we knew that, as far back asour family could be traced, it had