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<h2> CHAPTER FIVE </h2>
<p>THOUGHTS PREVIOUS TO ATTEMPTING AN ESCAPE—TOBY, A FELLOW SAILOR,
AGREES TO SHARE THE ADVENTURE—LAST NIGHT ABOARD THE SHIP</p>
<p>HAVING fully resolved to leave the vessel clandestinely, and having
acquired all the knowledge concerning the bay that I could obtain under
the circumstances in which I was placed, I now deliberately turned over in
my mind every plan to escape that suggested itself, being determined to
act with all possible prudence in an attempt where failure would be
attended with so many disagreeable consequences. The idea of being taken
and brought back ignominiously to the ship was so inexpressibly repulsive
to me, that I was determined by no hasty and imprudent measures to render
such an event probable.</p>
<p>I knew that our worthy captain, who felt, such a paternal solicitude for
the welfare of his crew, would not willingly consent that one of his best
hands should encounter the perils of a sojourn among the natives of a
barbarous island; and I was certain that in the event of my disappearance,
his fatherly anxiety would prompt him to offer, by way of a reward, yard
upon yard of gaily printed calico for my apprehension. He might even have
appreciated my services at the value of a musket, in which case I felt
perfectly certain that the whole population of the bay would be
immediately upon my track, incited by the prospect of so magnificent a
bounty.</p>
<p>Having ascertained the fact before alluded to, that the islanders,—from
motives of precaution, dwelt altogether in the depths of the valleys, and
avoided wandering about the more elevated portions of the shore, unless
bound on some expedition of war or plunder, I concluded that if I could
effect unperceived a passage to the mountain, I might easily remain among
them, supporting myself by such fruits as came in my way until the sailing
of the ship, an event of which I could not fail to be immediately
apprised, as from my lofty position I should command a view of the entire
harbour.</p>
<p>The idea pleased me greatly. It seemed to combine a great deal of
practicability with no inconsiderable enjoyment in a quiet way; for how
delightful it would be to look down upon the detested old vessel from the
height of some thousand feet, and contrast the verdant scenery about me
with the recollection of her narrow decks and gloomy forecastle! Why, it
was really refreshing even to think of it; and so I straightway fell to
picturing myself seated beneath a cocoanut tree on the brow of the
mountain, with a cluster of plantains within easy reach, criticizing her
nautical evolutions as she was working her way out of the harbour.</p>
<p>To be sure there was one rather unpleasant drawback to these agreeable
anticipations—the possibility of falling in with a foraging party of
these same bloody-minded Typees, whose appetites, edged perhaps by the air
of so elevated a region, might prompt them to devour one. This, I must
confess, was a most disagreeable view of the matter.</p>
<p>Just to think of a party of these unnatural gourmands taking it into their
heads to make a convivial meal of a poor devil, who would have no means of
escape or defence: however, there was no help for it. I was willing to
encounter some risks in order to accomplish my object, and counted much
upon my ability to elude these prowling cannibals amongst the many coverts
which the mountains afforded. Besides, the chances were ten to one in my
favour that they would none of them quit their own fastnesses.</p>
<p>I had determined not to communicate my design of withdrawing from the
vessel to any of my shipmates, and least of all to solicit any one to
accompany me in my flight. But it so happened one night, that being upon
deck, revolving over in my mind various plans of escape, I perceived one
of the ship's company leaning over the bulwarks, apparently plunged in a
profound reverie. He was a young fellow about my own age, for whom I had
all along entertained a great regard; and Toby, such was the name by which
he went among us, for his real name he would never tell us, was every way
worthy of it. He was active, ready and obliging, of dauntless courage, and
singularly open and fearless in the expression of his feelings. I had on
more than one occasion got him out of scrapes into which this had led him;
and I know not whether it was from this cause, or a certain congeniality
of sentiment between us, that he had always shown a partiality for my
society. We had battled out many a long watch together, beguiling the
weary hours with chat, song, and story, mingled with a good many
imprecations upon the hard destiny it seemed our common fortune to
encounter.</p>
<p>Toby, like myself, had evidently moved in a different sphere of life, and
his conversation at times betrayed this, although he was anxious to
conceal it. He was one of that class of rovers you sometimes meet at sea,
who never reveal their origin, never allude to home, and go rambling over
the world as if pursued by some mysterious fate they cannot possibly
elude.</p>
<p>There was much even in the appearance of Toby calculated to draw me
towards him, for while the greater part of the crew were as coarse in
person as in mind, Toby was endowed with a remarkably prepossessing
exterior. Arrayed in his blue frock and duck trousers, he was as smart a
looking sailor as ever stepped upon a deck; he was singularly small and
slightly made, with great flexibility of limb. His naturally dark
complexion had been deepened by exposure to the tropical sun, and a mass
of jetty locks clustered about his temples, and threw a darker shade into
his large black eyes. He was a strange wayward being, moody, fitful, and
melancholy—at times almost morose. He had a quick and fiery temper
too, which, when thoroughly roused, transported him into a state bordering
on delirium.</p>
<p>It is strange the power that a mind of deep passion has over feebler
natures. I have seen a brawny, fellow, with no lack of ordinary courage,
fairly quail before this slender stripling, when in one of his curious
fits. But these paroxysms seldom occurred, and in them my big-hearted
shipmate vented the bile which more calm-tempered individuals get rid of
by a continual pettishness at trivial annoyances.</p>
<p>No one ever saw Toby laugh. I mean in the hearty abandonment of
broad-mouthed mirth. He did smile sometimes, it is true; and there was a
good deal of dry, sarcastic humour about him, which told the more from the
imperturbable gravity of his tone and manner.</p>
<p>Latterly I had observed that Toby's melancholy had greatly increased, and
I had frequently seen him since our arrival at the island gazing wistfully
upon the shore, when the remainder of the crew would be rioting below. I
was aware that he entertained a cordial detestation of the ship, and
believed that, should a fair chance of escape present itself, he would
embrace it willingly.</p>
<p>But the attempt was so perilous in the place where we then lay, that I
supposed myself the only individual on board the ship who was sufficiently
reckless to think of it. In this, however, I was mistaken.</p>
<p>When I perceived Toby leaning, as I have mentioned, against the bulwarks
and buried in thought, it struck me at once that the subject of his
meditations might be the same as my own. And if it be so, thought I, is he
not the very one of all my shipmates whom I would choose: for the partner
of my adventure? and why should I not have some comrade with me to divide
its dangers and alleviate its hardships? Perhaps I might be obliged to lie
concealed among the mountains for weeks. In such an event what a solace
would a companion be?</p>
<p>These thoughts passed rapidly through my mind, and I wondered why I had
not before considered the matter in this light. But it was not too late. A
tap upon the shoulder served to rouse Toby from his reverie; I found him
ripe for the enterprise, and a very few words sufficed for a mutual
understanding between us. In an hour's time we had arranged all the
preliminaries, and decided upon our plan of action. We then ratified our
engagement with an affectionate wedding of palms, and to elude suspicion
repaired each to his hammock, to spend the last night on board the Dolly.</p>
<p>The next day the starboard watch, to which we both belonged, was to be
sent ashore on liberty; and, availing ourselves of this opportunity, we
determined, as soon after landing as possible, to separate ourselves from
the rest of the men without exciting their suspicions, and strike back at
once for the mountains. Seen from the ship, their summits appeared
inaccessible, but here and there sloping spurs extended from them almost
into the sea, buttressing the lofty elevations with which they were
connected, and forming those radiating valleys I have before described.
One of these ridges, which appeared more practicable than the rest, we
determined to climb, convinced that it would conduct us to the heights
beyond. Accordingly, we carefully observed its bearings and locality from
the ship, so that when ashore we should run no chance of missing it.</p>
<p>In all this the leading object we had in view was to seclude ourselves
from sight until the departure of the vessel; then to take our chance as
to the reception the Nukuheva natives might give us; and after remaining
upon the island as long as we found our stay agreeable, to leave it the
first favourable opportunity that offered.</p>
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