I shall try to relate this story as it was told to me by a man by the name of Stewart (whether that was his first or last name, I do not know - for he never told me). It concerns a man by the name of Rummy Red - so named according to his taste for rum and long red beard, which nearly reached his knees. Rummy was the cook on a ship with Stewart some years ago and he was the worst cook that any could remember. His bread was harder than hard tack and fit only for use as cannon balls. Luckily for the crew, the supply of flour ran out and Rummy was no longer able to bake it.
Rummy used to sit and tell tales of the many things he had seen in his long years. None of the crew knew his age for certain, but reckoned him for near sixty. So, Rummy would sit and drink from one of the bottles of rum that he had managed to keep hidden on board and tell tall tales of lands where loaves grew on trees with crusts that were green and sticky and strange fruits that were the shape of the male part. His favourite story of all was that of a small island, covered in jungle, where he and his shipmates had killed and eaten the most delicious wild pig. It had been, he said, licking rum from his lips, the biggest boar he had ever seen and yet its flesh had been as tender as a suckling pig.
Now, as often as not, the crew would make fun of Rummy Red and call him a drunk and a liar. On this occasion, though, Rummy silenced them all by saying that he had spoken with the navigator and that it was to this very island that they were heading in order to resupply and fill their water barrels. This excited the men no end, for they knew that whilst Rummy Red was a terrible cook, he was a great glutton. If he said that this pig was the best that he had ever tasted then it was certain to be a fine meal for them. Some of the men went to the navigator, a man by the name of Simons, whom I have known myself, and asked him about this island. He showed the men his charts and said that it was on Rummy Red's advice that they were going to this island. He said that he had never been to this island himself, but it was now only a few days away.
The next few days passed slowly for the crew and Rummy spent much of his time telling any man who would listen of all the ways in which he was going to roast and bake and boil the pigs when they caught them. He also polished and sharpened his carving knives and asked Stewart to fashion several long spears. Before long they sighted the island and Rummy danced a jig and gave thanks to the Lord. That night they dropped anchor offshore and in the morning sent out the row boats, packed with cooking pots and empty water barrels.
The men split into two teams - one to look for water and the other, led by Rummy, in search of these legendary swine. Stewart said that he was in the water party, and so did not take part in the first hunting trip, but when they had found a spring of fresh water they returned to the beach to find Rummy turning a spit on which hung the largest leg of pork they had ever seen. The head of the beast was a full two feet long and the men had had great difficulty hauling its carcass back to the beach. It resembled a wild boar, though many times the size of those sort found in Europe, except for the striped patterns on its flanks, which Europeans boars lose after their first few years. One of the boats returned to the ship, taking with it the water and a choice cut of meat for the captain. Most of the men chose to stay on the beach and gorge themselves on the juicy meat, which all declared to be the best they had ever tasted. They clapped Rummy on the back and asked him to forgive their former doubts. When nightfall came, they lay down around their fires and slept to the sound of exotic birdsong and gurgling bellies.
Early the next morning, the captain came ashore and was amazed by the size of the carcass that the men showed him. He said that they should try to kill another, which, cured and salted, would last they the rest of the voyage. The men took up their spears, some of which were still caked in pig's blood, their nets and a great deal of rope. They led the captain through the jungle to the clearing where they had killed the pig the day before. Clearly a great deal of blood had been spilt and the captain doubted that any pigs would be found in the same location. They pressed on into the jungle and, at length, found some fresh tracks that led them to their prey.
The huge beast was lying under a tree, asleep. The captain told two of his men to creep forward with their spears and kill the pig before it awoke. The men did as they were told and plunged their sharp spears into its side. They must have missed its heart, for at once it jumped to its feet, letting out a wail so loud that the men had to cover their ears. The captain sent another two men to kill it outright and before long the beast had breathed its last.
Rummy was just about to slit the pig's throat so that it could be bled, when he heard a rumbling sound off through the trees. He called to the captain who loaded his pistol and told the men to stand fast. The sound grew louder and became like the thundering hooves of a great horse. Suddenly a mighty sow appeared. She stood six feet tall at the shoulder and had tusks the size of church candles. Seeing that her baby had been slain, she let out a bellowing moan and charged at the men, who ran terrified into the jungle. The brave captain stood his ground and fired his pistol but, though he caught the monster in its flank, he had to hide behind a tree to avoid being crushed. Rummy Red had, course, tried to run off at the first sight of the enormous sow, but his beard had become caught on the limb of a tree. The monster caught sight of him as he cursed and struggled, trying to cut himself free with his carving knife. She charged at him and the poor Rummy Red was gored to death before anyone could come to his rescue. Having sated her fury, the sow returned to the side of her dead baby and lay down, as though in mourning. The captain, fearing for their safety if she should attack them again, reloaded his pistol and signaled to Stewart to bring his spear. With a well aimed bullet and several wounds from the spear, they dispatched the terrifying creature.
It was evening before all the men returned to the beach, as many had become lost when they fled from the mother pig. However, a number of them had worked as a team to haul the pigs back in sections. They had also buried Rummy on the island of which he had dreamed so often. They returned to the ship that night, not wishing to remain on the island, and set sail again in the morning. The delicious meat they had gathered sustained them for the rest of the voyage and each man would say a prayer for the soul of Rummy Red as he sat down to eat.
