The hut or cottage was rude and simple in its construction. It was not
more than twelve feet long by ten feet broad, and about seven or eight
feet high. It had one window, or rather a small frame in which a window
might perhaps once have been, but which was now empty. The door was
exceedingly low, and formed of rough boards, and the roof was covered
with broad cocoa-nut and plantain leaves. But every part of it was in a
state of the utmost decay. Moss and green matter grew in spots all over
it. The woodwork was quite perforated with holes; the roof had nearly
fallen in, and appeared to be prevented from doing so altogether by the
thick matting of creeping-plants and the interlaced branches which
years of neglect had allowed to cover it almost entirely; while the
thick, luxuriant branches of the bread-fruit and other trees spread
above it, and flung a deep, sombre shadow over the spot, as if to guard
it from the heat and the light of day. We conversed long and in
whispers about this strange habitation ere we ventured to approach it;
and when at length we did so, it was, at least on my part, with
feelings of awe.
At first Jack endeavoured to peep in at the window, but from the deep
shadow of the trees already mentioned, and the gloom within, he could
not clearly discern objects; so we lifted the latch and pushed open the
door. We observed that the latch was made of iron, and almost eaten
away with rust.
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