CHAPTER XVI
THE ESCAPE TO THE COAST
The announcement that the savages were trying to get into the cave under the waterfall filled Dave and his friends with new alarm.
"You are sure of this, Stoodles?" questioned Captain Broadbeam, as he leaped to his feet.
"I am," was the Irishman's answer.
"We ought to be able to hold them back," put in the doctor. "Can't we hurl them into the stream as fast as they appear?"
"That's the talk," came from Bob. "Let us line up just this side of the waterfall."
"Perhaps we can scare them," suggested Dave. "I know all savages are very superstitious."
All made their way to the edge of the waterfall, and Pat Stoodles showed them a crack in the rocks, at the side of the falls.
Here they could see the savages lined up outside, with Chief Walru at their head.
Several were talking excitedly, and the chief was wading in the water at the very foot of the falls.
Now the chief took up a rock and hurled it into the waterfall.
It whizzed past Doctor Barrell and struck the flooring some distance to the rear of the cave.
Dave saw the movement, and of a sudden a strange idea came into his head.
He would scare the savages if he could.
Filling his lungs with air, he let out a most blood-curdling scream, followed by a series of wild and unearthly groans and a long hiss.
The savages were thunderstruck, and those on the bank of the stream took to their heels with all possible speed, while Chief Walru tumbled backward and then began to scramble over the rocks for dear life.
Again Dave let out a scream, and then groans which were more dreadful than the others.
In less than three minutes not a savage was to be seen.
"They have gone!" said Bob.
"If only they don't come back," returned Captain Broadbeam.
"I have an idea," said the young diver. "Why can't we pile up some stones in front of that opening? Then if the savages try to get through the waterfall they will get badly left."
"That's the talk!" came from Bob. "Are there stones handy, Stoodles?"
"Sure, plinty of thim."
And the Irishman showed the way to where lay a quantity of stones, large and small.
With the doctor holding a torch to light them, all hands began to haul stones to the opening. Those that were flat were placed on the bottom and soon the opening was filled up to within two feet of the top. Other stones were piled up behind, so that those in front might not be shoved back.
"Now we are safe—at least for the time being," said Captain Broadbeam. "But the next question is, how are we to escape and get on board of the Swallow?"
"Isn't there another exit from the cave?" asked the doctor.
Pat Stoodles shook his head.
"If there is, I never was afther findin' wan," he remarked.
All were utterly worn out by their adventures and by the work on the stone wall, and glad enough to rest.
Yet each took his turn, at a two hours' watch, so that they might not be surprised.
But the savages did not come back during the night, nor did they see anything of the natives during the morning.
Pat Stoodles had provisions stored in the cave and they made a hearty breakfast, after which all felt decidedly better.
From the Irishman, who seemed to be growing clearer in his mind every hour, they learned that they were about half a mile from the seacoast.
The way to the shore lay through a thick jungle, with here and there a treacherous swamp.
With extreme caution they left the cave and started up the stream and into the jungle.
They were constantly on the lookout for the savages, but a quarter of a mile was covered and not a native showed himself.
"Dave scared them for fair," said Bob. "Perhaps they have left the island altogether."
"Don't be afther foolin' yerself," answered Pat Stoodles. "Thim haythins is wust whin they are sthill."
In this remark the Irishman was correct, for hardly had he spoken when an arrow whizzed through the air and pierced Doctor Barrell's hat.
"They are after us!" cried several in chorus.
"We must run fer it!" came from Stoodles. "Folly me, an' be amazin' quick about it, too," and away he leaped at top speed.
Nobody needed a second warning, and all kept as close to the Irishman's heels as possible. He led them into a thicket of vines and underwood. In the meantime several more arrows came flying through the air, and Dave was struck in the shoulder.
"I am hit!" he murmured, and stopped short.
"Is it bad?" asked Captain Broadbeam, who was close to him.
"I—I guess not. But it doesn't feel very good," and the young diver gave a gasp for breath.
As quickly as he could the captain extracted the arrow, and when they were in the thicket the wound was bound up. It was not serious, but it gave Dave a stiff side for several days afterward.
Once the thicket was gained, Pat Stoodles did not halt, but led the way deeper and deeper into the jungle. Some rocks were passed and then they came out on what looked like the edge of a moss-covered opening.
"Stop!" yelled the Irishman at Bob, who was going ahead. "Stop, if ye value yer loife!"
"What's wrong now?" asked the young engineer.
"That spot is afther bein' worse nor the bogs av ould Ireland," explained Pat Stoodles. "It's as sticky as glue. Perhaps we can lead the savages into it."
He led the way around the opening and all followed, pausing on the opposite side.
At that moment the body of natives appeared, and, seeing the whites, broke into a triumphant yell.
A shower of arrows were sent forth, but the whites ran for the shelter of the nearest trees and nobody was struck.
Then out into the opening rushed the savages, still yelling and brandishing their bows and arrows.
But they did not go far.
Less than a rod of the opening was passed when they began to sink into the black ooze beneath the green moss.
They tried to turn back, but it was in vain.
From their ankles they sank to their knees, and then to their waists.
Their war cries changed to shrieks of alarm and then to frantic appeals to their comrades to help them.
Over a dozen were caught in the glue-like bog, and every one of the number was in danger of losing his life.
The whites were totally forgotten, and the others, coming up, turned their whole attention to rescuing those in such dire peril.
Pat Stoodles laughed loud and long over the success of his ruse.
"Now it's good-by to ye!" he cried, shaking his fist at the natives. "I'm no more the grand muck-a-muck, but a dacent Irish sailor come back to his siven senses."
Again he led the way through the jungle, striking out directly for the ocean shore.
To force their way through the tropical growth was not easy, and made every one of the party pant for breath.
They stirred up many tropical birds and once came upon a colony of monkeys, who fled, shrieking and chattering, in all directions.
At last they could plainly hear the booming of the surf.
"The ocean!" cried Dave.
"If only we come in sight of the Swallow!" put in Bob.
"Perhaps we had better be careful before we show ourselves," remarked Captain Broadbeam. "There may be natives on the beach."
The matter was talked over, and it was decided that Stoodles and the captain should go forward to investigate.
The pair were gone less than ten minutes when Captain Broadbeam came running back in excitement.
"The Swallow is not in sight," he said.
"But another ship is."
"Another ship?" queried Dave, and then seeing a queer look on the captain's face, he added: "You don't mean the Raven?"
"Yes, I do mean the Raven!" was the answer, which filled the others with dismay.