CHAPTER XIV
ANOTHER CAPTURE
"We are in for it now, Dave!"
"Right you are, Bob. What shall we do, fight?"
"It would be useless, for they outnumber us ten to one."
And so speaking, Bob lowered the rifle once more.
It was well he did so, otherwise several arrows would have been sent whizzing through his body.
In a few seconds the natives had closed in on them and taken the rifle and other things from them.
Then they were bound with thongs and carted up the beach.
During all this time the thrashing on the beach ahead had continued, and now the boys saw what caused it.
In some unaccountable manner a whale had become cast up by the breakers.
He was caught in some brushwood and a fallen tree, but was doing his best to get back into his native element.
The savages considered the whale a great find, and were doing all in their power to make him their prisoner and kill him.
Scores of arrows had been shot into the huge, blubbery body, and the beach was dyed crimson with the blood of the marine monster.
Yet he thrashed around lively, and one native who went too near was knocked senseless by a blow from the whale's tail.
The fighting with arrows went on for a quarter of an hour longer, and in the meantime a long rope, made of vines and as tough as rawhide, was passed around the monster and made fast to a tree back of the beach.
The whale fought to the last, but gradually its struggles grew less and less, and finally ceased altogether.
Then arose a loud shouting, and rushing in, the savages began to dig at the body with their long knives and their war hatchets.
Some of the blubber they ate raw, much to the disgust of the prisoners, who found themselves forced to look on.
"They are worse than Esquimaux," muttered Dave. "Ugh! it makes me sick at the stomach."
"I wonder what they intend to do with us?"
"There is no telling. But I guess they won't eat us so long as the whale meat lasts. They seem to relish that immensely."
The boys passed a dismal half-hour, and during that time the savages cut up the whale and carted the meat off in huge chunks.
Then a savage who was evidently a chief came up and ordered some of his followers to bring Dave and Bob along.
Still bound, the two chums were picked up by two savages, who seemed to count their weight as nothing.
A journey lasting over an hour followed, straight into the interior of the island.
At the end of the inland lake previously mentioned, the band of savages halted.
Bob and Dave were tied fast to two trees, and then the natives proceeded to hold a council of war.
They wished to question the lads, but not one of them could speak English.
Presently a loud chanting was heard, and from a distance the boys saw more savages approaching.
There were three men and half a dozen women.
There was likewise another man, but he was white, even though his face had evidently been stained a reddish-brown color.
This man wore an attire which was comical in the extreme.
The suit consisted of a sailor's shirt and trousers, the latter cut off at the knees, and a shiny stovepipe hat, the band filled with feathers.
"Great Scott!" burst from Dave. "Look at that scarecrow!"
As soon as the man in the silk hat appeared all of the natives began bowing and chanting in chorus, and this they kept up until the strange one lifted his hands and let out a peculiar yell.
Then the stranger caught sight of the boys and ran up to them.
"Be th' eyes av Saint Patrick!" he cried, in a rich Irish brogue. "Who are ye, now; tell me that?"
"An Irishman!" ejaculated Dave, fervently. "Thank Heaven, one man can talk United States."
"Who are you?" demanded Bob.
At this the Irishman took off the stovepipe, swung it into the air, and made them a profound bow.
"Sure, I am Pat Stoodles, grand muck-a-muck av this wild tribe av haythins, castaway sailor from th' bark Emma D., high lord av the island, and second cousin av the royal Emperor of Turkey, ha, ha!"
And he laughed long and loud, and then shook hands.
"Are you putting this on for the natives' benefit?" questioned Bob. "If you are, let me say they don't understand a word."
At once a frown crossed Pat Stoodles' face.
He was indeed a castaway, and a solitary life of several years had partly turned his brain.
When the savages had found him he had acted so strangely that they had fancied he was some inhabitant of the infernal region. At first they had wanted nothing to do with him, but they had ended by making him something of a chief. In their own language they called him the fun-making high lord.
Pat Stoodles listened to their talk with interest, but shook his head when they mentioned the Swallow.
"You are afther bein' mistaken about th' ship," he said. "No ship comes here. What looks loike a ship is a vision in th' heavens, nothin' more!" And he clenched his fists. He had looked so long for a sail when alone that the subject had turned his brain.
"Poor chap!" said Bob, in an undertone, "I don't believe he can help us much."
"Perhaps he can save our lives." Our hero turned to the Irishman. "What will these natives do with us!"
"Sure an' I don't know. Maybe they'll be afther makin' princes av ye, me bould b'ys!"
"We would like our liberty."
Pat Stoodles shrugged his shoulders.
"Ye can gain yer liberty on but wan night av the month," he said. "That is whin th' moon is full an' they be afther havin' the feast av the skulls."
They did not know if he was in earnest, or if the talk was that of a crazy man.
Having spoken with them for some time, Pat Stoodles turned to the natives and began to jabber at them.
Evidently he had learned much of their language, for they listened attentively.
Then they brought the boys something to eat and to drink, and tried to make them otherwise comfortable.
But they would allow neither of them his liberty.
Night came and went, and still the chums remained prisoners of the savages.
Pat Stoodles spoke to them a long while in the morning, and at last appeared to believe their story of a ship.
"I will be afther lookin' fer her," he said. "But it's more likely a drame. I used to be afther dramin' loike that meself." And then he disappeared.
The morning slipped by, and the boys were thoroughly miserable. At first the natives left them alone, but presently they came on one after another and pulled their noses, their ears, and their hair. One savage doused them with dirty water from the lake, and all laughed loudly at the trick.
Noon had come and gone, when of a sudden several shots sounded in the distance.
The shots were followed by a loud yelling of natives, and at once those surrounding Dave and Bob ran off to learn the cause of the conflict.
"Something is up!" cried Dave. "What can it mean?"
"I reckon we'll soon learn," answered the young engineer.
A few more shots followed, and soon after all became quiet, the stillness lasting for over an hour.
Then a chanting was heard, and a body of savages appeared, having in their midst two prisoners.
"Look!" cried Dave. "Captain Broadbeam and Doctor Barrell! Is it possible!"
He was right. The newly made prisoners were the captain and the doctor, who had been surprised while on a second hunt for the missing ones.