Chapter Thirty Three.
In the face of peril.
“Come on,” said Jack, after they had stood listening for a few minutes, and gazing in the direction taken by the pigs. “Is it any use looking for the arrows?”
“Not a bit, sir. Here, only let me find one lying asleep in the mud somewhere. I dare say there’s, dozens doing it now, with their eyes shut, and their curly tails pretending to whisk away the flies. Come on, sir, we must keep going, hot as it is. Never mind, we shall do it yet, but next time I’m not going to trust to bows and arrows. You shall hunt them down to where I’m hiding, and I’ll skewer one somehow or another.”
But in the next two hours’ weary struggle among trees, rocks, and waving creepers they only heard pigs once, and then it was as they dashed off unseen, grunting and squealing wildly. Birds were scarcer and very small, while they felt no temptation to try the esculent qualities of the lizards they saw glancing about over the hot lava, or of the snakes which hurriedly crawled away.
They were successful though in finding a trickling stream of pure cold water, and a tree bearing a kind of fruit something like a poor, small apricot with a very large stone. It was bitter and sour, but it did, as Ned said, to clean your teeth.
Three more arrows were lost in shooting at birds, but without success, and Ned shook his head.
“I don’t know how it is with you, sir,” he said, “but my arm has had such a long rest that the muscles now seem to be too strong, and they must have jerked the bow just when I let go the string.”
“I can soon tell you how it is with me, Ned,” said Jack. “I never could use a bow and arrow, so of course I can’t now.”
They struggled on, growing less cautious in their eagerness to get down to the shore.
“Shall get some cocoanuts there, if we can’t get anything else, sir,” said Ned; “but I do hope it will be somewhere near the yacht.”
“But how are we to signal them if we don’t get there before dark?”
“Light a fire on the sands, sir. Oh, don’t you be afraid of that. It’s the getting there is the difficulty.”
It was growing well on in the afternoon when this was said, and, so weak and exhausted that they could hardly struggle on, they welcomed an open slope covered with some creeping kind of plant, as it seemed, for it offered the prospect of getting along better for a couple of hundred yards. Here, too, they could see down a ravine to the reef, which seemed to be wonderfully close at hand, though they knew that they had miles to struggle over before they could reach the sands—and such miles.
“Let’s make for that valley, Ned, and try to go down there.”
“Very well, sir; just which way you like. Seems all the same; but let’s get close up to the trees, though it’s furthest, for we may find some kind of fruit. What a country! Not so much as an apple, let alone a pear, or— Mr Jack, sir! Oh!”
“What is it?” cried Jack, startled by his companion’s excitement. “What have you found?”
For Ned had thrown himself upon his knees, and with one end of the bow was tearing away at the straggling plants which covered the ground wherever it was not rocky or smothered by bush.
“Can’t you see, sir? Here, come and help. ’Taters!”
“What?” cried Jack.
“Yes, ’taters, sir; only little ’uns. Not so big as noo potaties at home, but ’taters they are. Look!”
“Fingers were made before forks,” says the old proverb, so under the circumstances it was not surprising that Ned began to use his hands as if they were gardener’s potato forks, and with such success that in a short time quite a little heap of the yellow tubers were dug out of the loose sandy soil, the average size being that of walnuts.
Jack set to work at once to help, but he had hardly dragged away a couple of handfuls of haulm when he started up with a cry of alarm.
Ned leaped up too and seized his spear, expecting to have to face the blacks; but the enemy was a good-sized snake which had been nestling beneath the thick stalks of the plants, and now stood up fully three feet above the tops of the growth, with head drawn back, moving to and fro as if about to launch itself forward and strike at the first who approached it.
“Stand back, Mr Jack,” cried the man, and with one mower-like sweep of his spear-handle he caught the serpent a few inches below its threatening head, and it dropped writhing at once, with its vertebras broken.
“Can’t stand any nonsense from things like that, sir,” cried Ned, as he took his spear now as if it had been a pitchfork, raised the twining reptile from among the haulms, and after carrying it a few yards, threw it cleverly right away among the bushes at the side.
“Take care, perhaps there are more,” said Jack. “So much the worse for them if there are, sir. I want the ’taters, and I’d have ’em if the place was full of boa-constrictors as big as they grow. Come on.”
In a very short time they had their pockets and handkerchiefs full, the tubers coming out of the hot, dry, sandy soil perfectly clean; and thus furnished, they made for a spot where the lava rock was piled up, selected a niche, and scraped out a sandy hollow about a couple of feet across, laid the potatoes down singly and close together, covered them again with the sand, and then turned to the edge of the nearest patch of trees to gather dead boughs, leaves, everything they could which seemed likely to burn, and carried it to their improvised oven.
“Suppose the blacks see the smoke of the fire?” said Jack, as they piled up the smaller twigs and leaves over the potatoes, and Ned brought out his box of matches.
“I can’t suppose anything, sir, only that we must eat. If they do come on for a fair fight, I’m ready. Fight I will for these ’taters, come what may.”
The leaves and twigs caught readily, and the smoke began to curl up in the clear sunny air, as bigger and bigger pieces of wood were thrown on. Then as they went to the foot of the trees for more of that which lay in abundance, they glanced in all directions, but all was silent and solitary, with the beautifully-shaped mountain curving up above them, and a faint mist as of heat just visible in transparent wreaths above its summit.
“Don’t let’s take too much, Mr Jack—only a little at a time, so as to have to come again and again.”
“Why not take as much as we can carry now?”
“Because if we do we can’t put it all on at once, and we only want a nice gentle fire, and to keep on mending it till there are plenty of ashes.”
“Well, we need not put it all on if we’ve got it there.”
“But we must have something to do, sir.”
“Well, lie down and rest till the potatoes are done.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. You can’t think of what agony it will be. They must have half-an-hour, and it will seem like a week. You take my advice, sir. I’m sure it’s right.”
“Very well,” said Jack, and they kept on going to and fro, breaking enough to keep on feeding the fire, and trying hard not to think about what was cooking, as they still piled on the twigs and branches of dead wood, Ned busying himself in breaking them up, far more than was necessary in his desperate determination not to be tempted to draw out a single tuber before they were done.
“I know what ’taters are, sir,” he said between his teeth, “and as bad as can be really raw, but the gloriousest things as ever were for a hungry man when he has got nothing else. But what a pity it is! If we’d had our guns we could soon have brought down a skewerful or two of those green and scarlet parrots to roast, and— Oh, don’t talk about it. Makes my mouth water horribly.”
“Think they’re done now, Ned?” said Jack, after three or four journeys to and fro.
“No, sir, nor yet half. The sand underneath has to get hot. I tell you what, we’ll dig up some more and put them in the hot ashes after these are done, to cook and take away with us. They’ll do all right while we’re eating our dinner.”
“Very well,” said Jack, as he tried hard to curb his impatience, “but it’s terrible, this waiting.”
“Try not to think about it, please, sir. There, let’s make up the fire once more, and then go and dig.”
The wood was fetched and thrown on, both standing a little back afterward, and having a hard struggle to keep from raking out two or three of the potatoes to try if they were done, but they mastered themselves bravely, and hurried to the spot where they had dug before, to find it taken possession of by a larger and thicker snake than the one that had been killed. It was coiled up on the dry sand which they had cleared of leaves, and rose up menacingly at their approach.
“What shall we do—go somewhere else?” said Jack.
“No, sir, that we won’t,” cried Ned fiercely. “If that long eely thing chooses to play dog in the manger over the potatoes, it must take the consequences. I’ll soon finish him. Think he’s poisonous?”
“I feel sure of it, Ned,” said Jack anxiously. “Look at the swollen poison glands.”
“That settles it. Seems to me like a duty to kill poisonous things. I know what it is to be poisoned, sir.”
He gave his shoulder a twist, and advanced toward the serpent with his spear-handle ready.
“You keep back, sir, and let me have room to swing my spear round.”
“No; I want to kill this one, Ned.”
“Better not, sir. It’s risky. You might miss.”
“You be ready to strike him if I do.”
“Very well then, sir; only be careful. A good swish round will do it, but snakes are quick as lightning, and we’ve had trouble enough without you getting bitten.”
The snake rose higher, and prepared to strike as Jack advanced, holding his spear in both hands, and waiting his opportunity, he brought it round with all his force, but the end passed, through his miscalculation of the distance, a couple of inches short of the reptile’s head, and before the lad could recover himself to make another blow, the creature struck back, and would have fastened upon him but for Ned’s quick interposition of his own spear-handle, against which the serpent struck instead.
The next moment Ned struck again, full on the creature’s back, and it was helpless now for attack, writhing in amongst the growth till Jack obtained another fine cut at it, and the battle was at an end.
Ned picked it, up upon the end of his spear.
“They say that things are good if roasted, sir. What do you say—shall we cook him?”
“Ugh! No. Throw the horrible thing away.”
“Yes, sir; off it goes. One wants another day’s starving to eat roast snake.”
He sent the nearly dead creature whirling through the air with a sudden jerk of his spear-handle, and then turned to Jack.
“Now, sir,” he said, “as quick as you can, and then—”
He did not finish his sentence, but threw himself upon his knees again. Jack followed his example, and for about ten minutes they busied themselves getting another load, and then ran to the fireside and emptied all they had into a heap.
“Now then,” cried Ned; “but be careful, sir; they’ll be horribly hot.”
Jack said nothing, but looked on while his companion thrust the still burning wood aside with his spear, then swept off the thick bed of glowing embers, and lastly the hot sand, before turning the potatoes out into a heap on the other side, and spreading them to cool.
“Let ’em be, sir, till we’ve charged the oven again,” cried Ned, and the fight now was harder than ever as they began to throw the fresh batch into the hot pit. But it was done, and the sand swept over them. The glowing embers followed, the wood was piled on, to begin crackling and blazing, and then, and then only, did they fall to.
Only a meal of little hot roasted potatoes, without butter, pepper, or salt, but no banquet of the choicest luxuries could have tasted half so good. They were done to a turn, and though very small, of the most desirable flavour, and satisfying to a degree.
“Try another, sir, try another,” Ned kept on saying; but Jack needed no urging, and as he sat there eating one after another, the sun seemed to be less hot, the place around more beautiful, the shore less distant, and the possibility of their reaching the yacht that night more and more of a certainty. But that certainty began to grow into doubt when, well satisfied by their meal, the pair lay back to rest a little before making a fresh start.
“Must give the second batch time to get well done, sir, and to cool a bit, before we toddle, and then we ought to be on the look-out for water. A good drink wouldn’t come amiss.”
“No,” replied Jack slowly; “but hadn’t we better get some more wood to put on? The fire’s getting very low.”
“No, sir, it’s just right. There’s a good heap of embers now, and by the time the wood’s all burned the potatoes will be about done. Think any one planted them here first?”
“I should say they were planted by the captain who left the pigs.”
“Then I say he ought to have a monument, sir, for it was the finest thing he ever did in his life—much finer than anything I shall ever do. My, how different everything looks after you’ve had a good feed!”
Jack made no reply to that, but said, a minute or so later—
“Think the savages have seen our fire, Ned?”
There was no reply.
“’Sleep, Ned?” said Jack, looking toward him.
There was still no reply.
“Poor fellow! Let him rest a bit,” thought the boy; and then he began to think of what news it would be when he got back to the yacht, to announce that the arm was restored. The yacht brought up the thought of sailing right away over the blue waters, gliding easily on, with the warm sun upon his cheek and the soft breeze fanning his brows, and Jack Meadows went on sailing away, but it was only in fancy, for he too, utterly worn out by the morning’s exertions, was fast asleep, without a thought that danger might be near.
Chapter Thirty Four.
Cookery under queer circumstances.
“Ah–e! Ah–e! Ah–e!”
A loud peculiar call, followed by a repetition from a distance, too long after to be a reverberation, though strange echoes had been heard from far up the mountain when a shot was fired well down in one or other of the ravines which scored the slopes of the volcano.
There was a pause of a few minutes, another cry came again, and was answered or echoed.
The first time it had no effect whatever upon Jack, who lay upon his back fast asleep, in the deep slumber which comes to the hungry after that hunger has been appeased.
But there was the strange instinct of self-preservation awake in the lad, and that had started into watchfulness, though the body remained inert, and when the cry was repeated the body was warned, and Jack aroused into wakefulness, feeling, he knew not why, that something was wrong.
It was close upon sunset, and the cap of the mountain glowed once more as if it had burst into eruption, but all was perfectly still save the whistling and shrieking of birds at a distance.
He did not move, but turned his eyes toward where Ned lay snoring softly; then he cast his eyes toward the fire, which was apparently quite out, but the next moment the soft sea-breeze came with a gentle puff, and the embers glowed faintly, showing that with a little tending there was enough left to revive the blaze again.
The silence in face of that wondrous glow overhead was oppressive, and the feeling of danger at hand seemed to grow, and then began to die out, for there was nothing visible, till all at once a peculiarity close up by the glowing wood ashes took the lad’s attention, and then he shuddered slightly, for there, evidently attracted by the warmth, toward which they had crawled, were several snakes, with the possibility of there being more which he could not see. For the most part they were small, but a part of the coil of one showed that its owner must be as thick as his arm, and beyond lay in a kind of double S one that was far larger.
Then all at once there came the peculiar cry which had awakened him, and it had hardly died out when it was answered from the edge of the forest beyond the opening, at one side of which they lay.
“All right, Mr Jack, sir,” said Ned in a muttering, ill-used tone. “We’ll toddle on now. Needn’t be so hard on a fellow. Only just closed my eyes.”
Jack turned his head to the speaker, but Ned had not stirred, and after a momentary glance in the direction from which the call had come—evidently the ravine leading down to the sea—he rolled over three times, and brought himself close enough to touch his companion. But in the act of turning he felt something move, there was a sharp struggling, and a snake glided from beneath him hissing angrily, and he turned cold at the thought that another of the dangerous creatures had been sleeping coiled up closely to him for warmth.
Worse still, the hissing and rustling had startled those by the fire. Two malignant heads suddenly started up a few inches, and there was that peculiar gliding of coils in which the same serpent seems to be going in several directions at once.
For a few minutes Jack lay perfectly still, feeling as if he were yielding to that peculiar fear which paralyses in the presence of a serpent. But he closed his eyes, set his teeth hard, and remained motionless, mentally combating the sensation of horror and mastered it. While upon unclosing his eyes and looking in the direction of the fire, he saw that the coiling and uncoiling had ceased, and the raised heads had been lowered as if to resume the interrupted sleep.
Jack felt that action was the best safeguard against the horrible, paralysing sensation, and softly passing his hand along till he could touch Ned’s face, he tapped his cheek sharply.
“Don’t!”
He tapped again.
“I’m awake, I tell you. Guv’nors’ call?”
“Ned!—Ned!”
“Eh? yes!—all right. That you, Mr Jack?”
“Yes. Hush!” whispered the lad. “Don’t move; don’t raise a hand. Listen. Are you quite awake?”
“Yes, sir. What’s the matter?”
“We’re in danger, Ned.”
“Yes, sir, I knew that before I shut my eyes; but it was no use to holloa about it. What is it now?”
The call was repeated and answered before Jack spoke.
“Oh, that’s it, is it, sir?” said Ned quietly. “Pretty creatures. After us again, eh? Well, if we lie still they won’t see us, and—yes—shadow’s rising on the mountain, it will be dark directly. All we’ve got to do is to make out which way they go, and then go the other, so the sooner they show the better for us—I mean before it gets dark. Such a stupid place too; there ain’t no evening, it’s dark directly.”
“There’s more danger, Ned,” whispered Jack.
“Eh? what, ain’t that enough, sir? Well, what is it?”
“Turn your head very gently, so that you can look at the fire.”
“Yes, sir.—Well, it’s out.”
“Don’t you see anything there?”
“Whoo!” ejaculated the man in a tone full of horror, “snakes, hundreds of ’em! Oh, we mustn’t stand that, sir; they’re waiting till it’s cool enough, so as to get our ’taters.”
“Nonsense: after the warmth. Now you see, Ned. What’s to be done?”
The man was silent for a few moments. Then softly—
“This is nice, Mr Jack; we can’t get up and run away because of the niggers, and we can’t stop here because of the snakes. Yes; what’s to be done?”
Jack was silent in turn for a few moments.
“Let’s crawl a little way off, Ned.”
Jack set the example, and it was very willingly followed, till they were a dozen yards farther from the fire; but before half the distance was covered, the shouting of the blacks was heard again.
“I say, Mr Jack,” whispered Ned, as they subsided, “you’re a very clever fellow over your books.”
“Am I, Ned?” said Jack sadly.
“Oh, yes, I’ve often heard the guv’nor and Doctor Instow say so. Well then, there’s me. I’m sharp enough over my work—sort of handy chap.”
“Yes; but what’s the good of talking about that now?”
“I was only thinking, sir. Here’s you and me making no end of a fuss, and starving, and all the rest of it, and getting into a state o’ melancholy, because we’ve lost our way, while these poor ignorant savages go about without any clothes, and regularly enjoy themselves in the same place.”
“Yes, Ned, they are a deal cleverer than we are after all.”
“That they ain’t, sir. We’ve only got to use our brains more, and we can beat ’em hollow. I ain’t going to dump it any more. It’s like saying a nigger’s a better man than a white; and he ain’t. Now then, as the boy in the book I once read used to say, take it coolly, and let’s see if we haven’t got more brains than they have.”
“Very well, Ned; but now, if we don’t mind, they’ll kill us.”
“Then we will mind, sir. I should like to catch ’em at it. First thing is we must now be cool. Well, we’ve got enough for to-morrow, only those snakes are watching it. Well, while we’re waiting for those niggers to go by, let’s give the snakes notice to quit.”
“How? Pelt ’em?”
“There; look at him!” said Ned. “Only wants a bit of thinking. Come on, sir, we can do it as we lie here; they’ll soon scatter.”
“But suppose they come this way?”
“Throw at ’em again, sir. Ready?”
There were plenty of loose fragments of lava lying about in the sandy soil, stones which had doubtless been ejected by the volcano, to fall upon its slopes, and which had in course of time been washed lower and lower, and armed with these, they began to pelt the sides of the fire, the effect being wonderfully speedy. As the first stones fell there was a strange rustling and hissing, heads were raised menacingly up, and as a second couple fell the reptiles began to move off rapidly.
“Two biggest coming this way, Ned,” said Jack excitedly, and gathering a half-dozen or so smaller stones in his right hand, he hurled them catapult fashion right at the advancing heads, with the result that the two reptiles turned sharply, and went off at full speed in beneath the abundant growth of plants, while at the end of a few minutes the missiles thrown in their track produced no effect.
“That’s done, sir,” said Ned coolly, “and our to-morrow’s dinner’s safe, and it’ll be very hard if I don’t dodge something better to go with it. Hist! hear that!”
The call had been uttered evidently much nearer, and Jack grasped his spear.
“That’s right, sir,” whispered Ned, “but this is a big place, and it ain’t likely that they’ll come right over us. Let’s lie still and listen. We can’t see them, and they can’t see us.”
At that moment Jack pinched the speaker’s arm, and pointed over him.
“Something to see that way? All right, sir.”
He softly wrenched himself round, and gazed in the indicated direction, to see a black figure standing in bold relief against the orange slope of the mountain. He was nearby a hundred feet higher than where they lay, having mounted upon a ridge which was probably one of the hardened lava-streams which had flowed down, and as they watched him, one by one seven more joined him.
He stood looking round for a few moments, and then uttered the cry they had heard before, and turned to descend, making straight for the bend of the ravine which seemed to lead to the shore.
The call was responded to, and a few minutes after another party came into sight away to the left, making apparently for the same place, and if they kept on, it was evident that they would pass about a hundred yards from Jack and his companion, so that their policy was to lie quite still.
“Be too dark to see us in ten minutes, sir,” whispered Ned.
“Yes; and then we can’t do better than make our way up that ridge till we come upon another valley running down to the shore.”
“That’s the way, sir,” said Ned. “Only wants a little thinking about. A set o’ naked niggers beat you at scheming? Why, it ain’t likely.”
But they had a scare a quarter of an hour later, the second party of blacks coming into sight suddenly, not twenty yards away, tramping in Indian file, with their spears over their shoulders, and for the moment Jack’s heart seemed to stand still, and he grasped his weapon, ready to make one blow for his life.
For it seemed impossible that the men could pass by—men of such a keen, observant nature—without seeing the pair lying there amongst the trailing growth of the potatoes.
Worse still, they came nearer, so as to avoid a block of stone in their way, and one of the number leaped upon it, and after a look round, uttered the call of his tribe, just as one of a flock of running birds does to keep the rest together.
“Now for it,” thought Jack, as the black looked straight in his direction, and he prepared to spring up as the man leaped down, and seemed about to run at him, spear in hand.
But just when an encounter for life or death seemed inevitable, the savage trotted on, and the others followed, seeming to grow shorter, till one by one they disappeared, shoulders, heads, tops of the spears, dissolving into the coming gloom of evening.
“Oh, scissors!” whispered Ned. “I say, Mr Jack, sir, if I’d held my breath much longer, I’m sure all the works would have stopped.”
“I thought it was all over, Ned.”
“Yes, sir, so did I; but I meant to have a dig at one or two of ’em first. Talk about as near as a toucher, that was nearer. How do you feel now?”
“Heart beats horribly.”
“So does mine, sir. It’s going like a steam-pump with too much to do. But who’s afraid?”
“I am, Ned.”
“That you are not, sir. I’m just the same as you, but it’s only excitement, and what any one would feel. Now then they’ve gone down and blocked our road, so we must go up another way. Just give ’em another five minutes, and then we’ll go and get our ’taters.”
The ashes were soon being raked aside, and the invaluable potatoes about to be uncovered, when Ned sniffed.
“I say, Mr Jack, sir, they smell good.”
“Why, what’s that, Ned?” cried Jack, pointing through the gloom at something long and stiff curled up into a knot.
“That, sir? Well, I am stunned. Why, it’s one of they snakes, sir, got closer in to get warm, and he overdid it. He’s cooked; and just you smell, sir.”
“Ugh! throw it away.”
“But it smells ’licious, sir. It does really.”
“It makes me feel sick, Ned—the idea’s horrible. Why it will have spoiled all the potatoes.”
“Don’t make me feel sick, sir; makes me feel hungry. You’ve no idea how good it smells.”
“What! a horrible reptile?”
“So’s a turtle, sir; and you won’t say turtle-soup isn’t good.”
“But a snake, and perhaps poisonous, Ned?”
“We shouldn’t eat his head, sir. Don’t see why you might not just as well eat a snake as an eel, sir.”
“Throw it away!” cried Jack sharply.
“All right, sir, you’re master.—Good-bye, good victuals!” Ned added in an undertone.—“Won’t have hurt the taters, sir, there was all this thick layer of ashes between.”
“Are they burnt up?”
“No, sir, just right, and floury as can be. Look at that.”
It was getting too dark to see much; but Jack made out that the little round vegetable was all floury where it was broken.
The whole cooking was raked out, the ashes scattered away, and Ned proceeded to take out his knife and hand it to his young master, with instructions to cut out his shirt-sleeves just at the shoulder.
“I shall be warm enough without them, sir,” he said. “There: now we’ll just tie up the ends, and here we have a good bag apiece to carry the taters in. Nothing like having a bit of string in your pocket, sir. I wonder whether Robinson Crusoe had a bit o’ string when he was wrecked; I ’spose he would have, because he could have twisted up a bit out of the old ropes. It’s always useful, sir. There you are, now. I’ll tie the bags together, and swing ’em over my shoulder, one on each side.”
“I’ll carry one.”
“You shall have ’em both, sir, when I’m tired and want a bit of a rest. Now then, ready, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Then shoulder arms: march!” They made for the ridge of lava, climbed upon it without much difficulty, and began to ascend the gradual slope it formed, till they were shut in by the trees rising on either side, when the darkness became so intense that their progress was very slow, and they had to depend a good deal upon their spears used as alpenstocks. But one great need urged them on, and it chased away the thoughts of pursuit, and of the risks they were running. This need acted as a spur, which kept them crawling up the solidified river for fully a couple of hours, which were diversified by slips and falls more or less serious.
At last, as the lava flood took a bend round toward the north, they became aware of a bright glow high above their heads, where the summit of the volcano must be, and after a remark from Ned that it looked as if a bit of the sunset was still there, Jack grasped its meaning.
“It’s the reflection of the fire that must be burning up at the top of the mountain.”
“Think so, sir? Well, I suppose it’s too far off to hurt us. That’s miles away.”
“Yes; but we are walking on one of the rivers which ran down, and these stones we keep kicking against were once thrown out.”
“Ah, you’ve read a lot about such things, sir; I haven’t. Then you say it’s all fire up there?”
“Yes, Ned; look, it’s getting brighter.”
“Then what’s the good of our expecting to find water?”
“Because so many springs rise in mountains, and so much water condenses there. Hark! what’s that?”
Ned listened.
“Can’t hear anything, sir.”
“Not that?” cried Jack, whose senses seemed to be sharpened by his needs.
“No, sir, nothing at all.”
Jack made no remark, but pressed on with more spirit than he had before displayed. Then he stopped short in the darkest part they had encountered, a place where the trees encroached so much from the forest on either side that they seemed to be completely shut in.
“Now can you hear it, Ned?” cried the boy triumphantly.
“Yes, sir, I can hear it now—water, and a lot of it falling down the rocks. It must be there just below.”
Ten minutes after they had lowered themselves down amongst the trees, to where in the darkness they could lie flat at the edge of a rocky basin, scooping cool, sweet water with one hand, and drinking with a sense of satisfaction and delight such as they had never experienced before.
“There, Mr Jack,” said Ned joyously, “I don’t know what you think, but I say that it’s worth going through all the trouble we’ve had for a drink like that. Here goes again.”
He bent down over the stone basin, scooping up the water with his hand.
“Have another, Mr Jack, sir,” he cried. “That first one was nothing. It’s coming down over the fall sweeter and fresher than ever.”
Jack, nothing loth, went on drinking again, but in a more leisurely manner.
“That’s it, sir; have a good one. We shall be wanting it to-morrow, when perhaps we can’t get any. Fellow ought to be a camel in a place like this, and able to drink enough to last him a week. Go on, sir; I feel as if it’s trickling into all kinds of little holes and corners that had got dried-up. Think it goes into your veins, because I’m getting cosy now, right to the tips of my toes, where I was all hard and dry.”
“I’ve had enough now, Ned,” said Jack with a sigh, as if he were sorry to make the announcement.
“Don’t say that, sir. We’ve got no bottles, so we must take what we want inside. Have another drink, sir, so as to get yourself well soaked, then you’ll be able to stand a lot. I didn’t like to howl about it, so as to put you out of heart when you were as bad as me; but my mouth was all furred inside like a tea-kettle, and as for my throat, it was just as if it was growing up, and all hard and dry.”
“That was just as I felt, Ned.”
“I thought so, sir. Hah!” with a loud smack of the lips. “I’ve tasted almost every kind of wine, sir, from ginger up to champagne, and I’ve drunk tea and coffee, and beer, and curds and whey, thin gruel, and cider, and perry, but the whole lot ain’t worth a snap compared to a drink of water like this; only,” he added with a laugh, “you want to be thirsty as we were first. Done, sir?”
“Yes, quite, Ned.”
“Then I tell you what, Mr Jack, sir; we’ll try and hunt out a snug place somewhere close handy and have a good sleep.”
“I don’t feel sleepy, Ned. I want to get back and end my father’s terrible suspense.”
“So do I, sir; but I put it to you—can we do anything in the dark to-night?”
“No. There is only the satisfaction of trying.”
“Yes, sir; but you have to pay a lot for it. Say we try for home now—that’s all we can do,—shan’t we be less fit to-morrow?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Very well then, sir; it’s a lovely night, let’s have a good sleep. Then as soon as it’s light we’ll set to work and eat one of these sleeves of potatoes, come down here again, and take in water enough to last us for the day, or till we find some more, and try all we can to get down to the shore somehow or another. By this time to-morrow night, if I don’t find some way of showing that a white man can manage to live where a black can, my name’s not what it is.”
It was rough work searching for a resting-place, and the best they could find was upon some rough, shrubby growth, not unlike heather, in a recess among several mighty blocks of stone. But if it had been a spring bed, with the finest of linen, they could not have slept better, or awoke more refreshed, when the forest was being made melodious by the songs of birds. The mountain top was beginning to glow, and just below there came the soft tinkling splash of the falling water.
“Morning, sir,” cried Ned, springing up. “Your shower-bath’s waiting, sir. Come along, sir. Do us no end of good to have a dip. We shall take in a lot of water that way, and get rid of the dust that choked us yesterday.”
Jack needed no farther invitation, and upon descending the sides of the stone river, there was the natural bath ready to send a thrill of strength through them, for the rivulet came down in a series of little falls each having its well-filled basin.
There was the drawback that there were no towels to use, and Jack said so.
“What, sir?” cried his man. “You don’t mean to say that you would have used a towel if you had had one!”
“Why, of course. Why not?”
“Been waste of so much water. Let it soak in gradual, sir. You’ll want every drop by and by. You wait till we get out in the sun. Just think of how we were yesterday.”
Ten minutes after they were seated beneath a tree, discussing their potatoes, eating away with a glorious appetite till about half of one sleeve-full had been demolished, when Jack cried, “Hold!”
“Why, you ain’t had enough yet, sir?”
“No, but we will keep these till by and by when we are hungry again.”
“But I’m hungry now, sir,” cried Ned; “and they’ll be so much easier to carry after we’ve eat ’em—we shall have got rid of the skins.”
“Never mind, don’t let’s be improvident.”
“But I’m pretty sure to spear or shoot a pig to-day for supper, sir.”
“Then the potatoes will come in all the more useful as we have no bread,” said Jack, smiling. “Let’s go now, and climb to that little basin, to have a good draught of water.”
“All right, sir; what you say’s best, but it’s hard work leaving those beautiful little ’taters. They make you feel as if you could go on browsing like all day long.”
But the rest were carefully tied up in the sleeve, a good hearty draught of the cool refreshing water taken, and they descended once more to the natural road.
“The breakfast makes one feel different, Ned. I am not nearly so low-spirited this morning.”
“Low-spirited, sir? Why, I could run and shout Hooray, I feel so well. Look at that arm, sir! Who’s going to feel mis’rable when he’s got his strength back like that. Ready, sir?”
“Ready? Yes,” cried Jack. “Now then, we must make up our minds to get back to the yacht to-day.”
“That’s it, sir; but if you see me run mad-like, and go off with my spear, you come and help me, for it means pig.”
They started once more, following the course of the lava-stream, with its steady ascent, and at every turn Jack looked back longingly, feeling as he did that they were going away, but knowing that the longest might prove in the end the shortest road. They kept on, waiting for the time when they found that the great flow of fiery molten stone had encountered an inequality which had made it divide into two streams, the further of which might lead them down to the sands somewhere far from the yacht.
But mid-day with its burning sun had come, and the intense heat compelled them to stop and rest beneath a clump of trees, which struck them both as being more dwarfed in appearance, though their growth was luxuriant and beautiful. The forest, too, had become more open, there were glades here and there, and it was possible, if they had been so disposed, to have left the stony road and threaded their way among the bushes.
“Why, if we are forced to keep on like this much longer, Ned, we shall reach the crater.”
“Well, why not do it, sir? Once up there we can look all over the island, and choose our way down straight to the yacht.”
“I should like to do it now we are so high,” said Jack; “but we must only think of getting back.”
“And getting our suppers, sir,” whispered Ned, as he pointed toward a rocky ridge high up above the lava-stream to the left, where seen against the sky-line, as they browsed on the herbage among the rocks, there was a group of about half-a-dozen goats, two of which were evidently kids, while one was a patriarch with enormous curved horns.
“Now, Mr Jack,” whispered Ned; “we had some practice with our bows and arrows yesterday; this time we must do it at any cost.”
“Yes, Ned,” whispered back the lad excitedly. “It may mean the strength to escape.”
The next minute, bow and arrow in one hand, spear in the other, they were carefully stalking the herd by creeping upward among the trees and blocks of tumbled-together volcanic stone, which gave them the opportunity of climbing up within easy shot unseen.
Chapter Thirty Five.
In spite of all.
They were too close to the goats to venture upon much whispering, and the decision was soon arrived at that they were to divide, and each make the best of his way up the ridge till there was an opportunity for a close easy shot; then without waiting that shot was to be sent whizzing from the bow, the probability being that as there was no report, the goats would not be much alarmed, and another chance might be afforded.
“Think we must have one this time, Mr Jack,” whispered Ned, and they started from behind the great block which now sheltered them, each taking his own side.
From that moment Jack had no eyes for his companion, his attention was centred upon the great father of the herd, to the left of which the two half-grown kids were browsing upon the tender young shoots of the bush-like growth.
It was nervous work, for every now and then the old goat raised his head on high to take a long careful look round, and when he did, Jack remained motionless where he had crawled. Directly he saw the tips of the horns lowered he began to creep again, taking advantage of every tree-trunk, stone, or bush, and always getting nearer, though still far too distant to risk a shot. His hands trembled and were wet with perspiration, and again and again he felt that he must be seen, and expected to hear the beating of the animals’ hoofs as they dashed off, but the great curved horns, sweeping back like those of an ibex, were still visible, and he crawled slowly on, forgetting all about Ned and his progress.
At last, after many minutes devoted to the struggle upward, he reached a spot sufficiently elevated to give him a view of the volcano whose crater rose above the ridge, and forming; a background for the big goat, which stood out plainly about forty yards away even now, and offering itself for a shot, easy enough with a rifle, but very doubtful with a bow and arrow. The lad was in a capital position, but unfortunately the slope beyond offered no cover, and to have moved from it meant to be seen at once, while, more unfortunately still, the two kids, which should have shown themselves nearer, were now completely hidden by a clump of dense growth twenty yards from where he lay.
“If I could only have got there,” thought Jack, “how easy it would be.” But to have moved would have been to send the whole herd careering away, and all he could do was to wait and see if the kids would at last come from behind the shrubs.
“They may come nearer,” he thought, and he softly fitted an arrow to the bowstring, and waited for his opportunity, for he could do no more.
There he rested, bow and arrow held ready, in a very awkward position for shooting, but he dared not move, for at the slightest movement even of his companions, the goat raised his head, and several times gave an angry stamp with one of his fore-feet.
“I wonder where Ned is now,” thought the boy, and he hoped that he was having better fortune, and he glanced cautiously in the direction where he must be, but all was still; butterflies were flitting about, birds darted by, and the old goat, the only one of the herd now visible, still browsed or watched.
Jack glanced away to his left to see if he could take and creep round to a better position, but there was less cover than where he was; and after waiting impatiently for what seemed to be over a quarter of an hour, the lad determined to risk all, and creep to the clump in front, if only a few inches at a time, bearing to his left in the hope of getting it between him and the old goat, and bearing still more off till he could get his shot at the young.
All at once, in the midst of the soft hum of insects and the cropping sound made by the invisible goats, Jack heard a peculiar bleating noise away to his right.
Jack looked quickly round, expecting to see an easy shot, and the big goat looked too, and took a step or two forward. Then the bleating began again and ended suddenly in a peculiar smothered way, as if the creature which uttered it had been suddenly strangled.
The big goat looked puzzled, raised his head higher, and stared in the direction of the sound, stamped angrily, and uttered an angry, defiant ba–a–a–a–a!
At the cry Jack’s heart leaped, for a kid that he had not previously seen sprang into sight, and stood within thirty yards of the watcher, side on, offering an easy shot, while the rest of the herd trotted hurriedly up to their leader.
Twang! Jack’s arrow had sped after he had drawn it to the head, and as he was in the act of springing up to see if the shaft had taken effect, something heavy pitched on to his shoulders, throwing him face forward among the thick growth, and a pair of black hands clasped his neck and throat.
It was all done so suddenly that he was half stunned. The stalker had been stalked, and as he was twisted round by the man who had leaped upon him, and who now sat upon his chest, half-a-dozen more black faces appeared, their owners grinning with triumph. Jack yelled with all his might—
“Run for it, Ned. Savages. Run!”
The warning was all in vain, for the next minute four more blacks appeared, dragging the man after them bound hand and foot, and looking purple in the face, and scratched as if he had been engaged in a severe struggle.
“There you are, Mr Jack,” he panted. “They’ve ’most killed me. Jumped upon me just as I had a splendid chance. On my back. Five to one, the cowards. And then they come behind you, and can’t hit fair. Are you hurt?”
“Not much. Oh, Ned, and I thought we had got away from them.”
“Yes, but they must have been on the look-out, sir.”
The blacks were standing round them, spear in hand, ready to strike if an attempt was made to escape, and Jack said so.
“Oh yes, sir, they’d let go at us if we tried to run, but it’s of no use to do that, for they’d bring us down at once. There, we may as well look it straight in the face and make the best of it.”
“We can’t, Ned,” said Jack dismally; “there is no best to it. I only wish I knew what they were going to do with us. Only fancy, after us taking all that trouble to get away!”
The bewailings were brought to an end by a stalwart black clapping him on the shoulder and saying something as he pointed over the ridge.
“Ugh! you ugly, mop-headed Day and Martin dummy,” cried Ned. “If I hadn’t a better language than that I’d hold my tongue. No use to kick, Mr Jack; suppose we must go on.”
Jack was already stepping forward, urged by another powerfully-built fellow, who showed his teeth and pricked him forward with the point of the spear he carried.
It was a blunt, clumsy weapon, the point being merely the wood of which it was formed, hardened by thrusting in the fire, but the hand which held it was powerful, and the prod received severe, though the skin was not pierced. Jack uttered no cry, neither did he shrink, but turned round so fiercely upon the black that the fellow started back.
“Well done, Mr Jack, sir,” cried Ned excitedly; “that did me good. I like that, sir. Let ’em see that you’re Briton to the backbone, and though they’ve tied me up again with these bits of cane, Britons never shall be slaves. Here, ugly: come and stand in front and I’ll kick you.”
It was waste of words, but the blacks understood that it was meant defiantly, and they lowered their spears and signed to their prisoners to go on.
“Oh yes,” cried Ned proudly, “we’ll go on. Can’t help ourselves, can we, Mr Jack? But don’t be down-hearted, sir. They haven’t killed us, and perhaps after all they may take us where we want to go down to the shore.”
But as they tramped on, with one of their captors leading the way, and the rest behind, keeping an eye upon the cane bonds which now held both prisoners’ wrists behind, their way proved to be diagonally up the slope of the volcano, and the tramp was kept up for hours beneath the broiling heat of the sun, while it seemed to Jack that every now and then hot sulphurous puffs of wind escaped from the stony ground over which they passed. The trees grew rapidly fewer and less in size, till there were only scattered bushes, and higher still these were dwarfed into wiry grasses and tufts of a heather-like growth, with lichens and dried-up mosses.
“Try and hold up, Mr Jack sir, they must halt soon to eat and drink. My word, if we weren’t prisoners, I’d say what a view we get from up here. See anything of the yacht?”
“No, Ned; she’s inside the reef, and we can’t see that.”
“No, sir, you’re right. ‘Britons never shall be slaves,’ but all the same I feel just as if I was being driven to market. That’s it, they’re taking us somewhere to sell us, I know; wonder how many cocoanuts we shall fetch, or p’r’aps it’ll be shells. Thirsty, sir?”
“I don’t know, Ned, I haven’t thought about it. I suppose I am, and hungry and very tired; but I’ve been thinking about whether we shall ever see the yacht again.”
“Oh yes, sir. Never say die. Life’s all ups and downs. Sir John ain’t forsaking us, you may be sure, and any moment we may see him and a lot of our jolly Jack Tars coming round the corner, and the doctor with ’em, ready to give these black brutes a dose of leaden pills. Ah! and they’ll have to take ’em too, whether they like ’em or no. Don’t you be down.”
“I’m not, Ned. I keep trying to think that it’s all adventure and experience.”
“That’s it, sir. Do to talk about when we get back to old England.”
Twice over, as the diagonal ascent grew steeper, the blacks halted for about half-an-hour, and the prisoners were glad to lie down in the shelter of one of the lava blocks with which the slope was strewn, the cool air which came from the sea being fresh and invigorating; and the second time Ned suddenly exclaimed—
“Not going to take us up to the top, are they, and pitch us into the fire?”
“Not likely, Ned,” replied Jack; “but we little expected to make the ascent like this.”
“With our hands tied behind us, sir.”
“I believe they are going this way so as to avoid the forest, and as soon as we get a little farther round they will begin to descend on the other side.”
Jack’s idea proved to be correct, for upon reaching a spot where nothing but a friable slope of fine ashes kept them from the summit, the leader suddenly leaped down into a hollow which was scored into the mountain side, and began to descend, followed by the rest.
“Due west,” said Jack thoughtfully. “Why, Ned, we shall reach the shore far from where we left the yacht.”
“If it goes straight down, sir; but is it west?”
“Yes, we are going straight for the sun now, and this gash in the mountain grows deeper. Look.”
“Yes, that’s right, sir; but I do wish we could get to some water now. It’s a dry journey from here to the shore, and you’re beginning to be done up.”
“Yes, Ned,” said Jack wearily; “I am beginning to be done up now.”