“It was but natural,” added the king, calmly. “So we watched, my chieftain and I, that we might prevent it. Good night, Steele. Myself, I cannot sleep because of your impending doom. It makes me very unhappy. But die you must.”
With these words he left me, but the Crooked One remained to say:
“Every street is well guarded. Escape is impossible. Be patient, therefore, for no man can evade his fate.”
He shuffled after the king, and left alone I threw myself upon the bench and waited for daylight.
CHAPTER XV
MY EXECUTION
I have several times been in danger of a violent death, and yet I still survive. “No man can evade his fate,” said the Crooked One; yet it is equally true that no man knows or can foresee his fate. One who frequently escapes death learns to fall back upon philosophy and ceases to worry overmuch.
I must have fallen asleep after a time, for when I opened my eyes the sun was flooding the room and my usual breakfast of milk and fruits stood upon the bench near me. I had scarcely finished the meal when in came a dozen Faytan warriors, headed by the Crooked One himself.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“What if I am not?” I retorted. “You intend I shall go with you, of course.”
He inclined his head gravely—not mockingly. Even he, standing in the presence of death, respected my feelings.
They did not bind me, but led me out between close files of the warriors. In the square was a vast crowd, silent and attentive. With my guard I passed to the east and took the broadest thoroughfare—that leading to the bay.
I had never been in this direction before, but I remembered seeing the water front from the airship when Joe and I first entered the city. The crowd swayed back to let us pass and then closed up behind us, following after in a long procession.
It was not far to the beautiful landlocked bay before which the Pearl City had been built, and when it came into full view I found the water thickly covered with boats of every description. The entire populace seemed to have turned out to witness my execution, and the occasion partook of the nature of a festival, for boats, barges and buildings were gay with the peculiar banners these people use for decoration. They were of all colors and shapes, and every one was bordered with pearls.
One of the biggest flat-bottomed barges, manned by a score of oarsmen, lay at the foot of the street waiting to receive us. I stepped aboard, the guards followed and the Crooked One took a seat beside me. Then, while the crowd scrambled for all the empty boats remaining, our oarsmen dipped their paddles and we moved slowly away toward the center of the bay.
A clear space, several hundred feet in diameter, had been left for my exclusive use, and I looked at it rather disapprovingly because the clear, smooth stretch of water was destined, seemingly, to extinguish all my future hopes and ambitions. Death by drowning may be a merciful mode of execution, but I do not think any condemned person can look with composure upon death in any form. For my part I took a sudden aversion to water, although I had always loved it before.
First we drew up before the royal barge, in which sat the young king upon a high seat. Around this place, and indeed all around the clear space in the bay, were clustered hundreds of boats, so densely packed that their sides touched. Every boat had as many passengers as it would hold, but the natives were quiet and no shouts nor jeering did I hear.
Standing up beside me the Crooked One bowed low before the king and said in a loud voice:
“Here is a stranger who has dared to land upon the shores of Faytan. What shall be done with him, King of Faytan?”
“Let him die,” answered the king, speaking so that all might hear.
With an abruptness that startled me, all that vast concourse repeated the sentence after him:
“Let him die!”
It was a veritable roar of voices, expressing all the restrained repugnance of the people for a stranger and their demand for vengeance. It was not so much personal hatred on their part as a desire that I should pay the long deferred penalty for my crime—the crime of being shipwrecked on their coast.
The chieftain resumed his seat and motioned to the oarsmen. With their former deliberation they paddled us out into the clear space, until we had reached the very center of it. Quite naturally I had expected to be bound and have a weight attached to me before I was thrown overboard to drown, but it transpired that this was not the Faytan custom. The king had said he was merciful and did not torture his victims, yet it was with a thrill of horror that I realized my death was to be made a spectacle for the delectation of the natives, who were assembled to watch and enjoy my struggles as I slowly drowned.
Two strong warriors caught me up and tossed me into the water without any warning or preparation. Then the barge receded to a position beside that of the king, leaving me to my fate.
I am a good swimmer, having lived on the water all my life. After the plunge I arose to the surface, supported myself and looked about me. My clothes were a drag upon me, so I managed to divest myself of my coat and my shoes while I trod water.
Why I should make what appeared a useless struggle for a brief period of life was not clear to my mind just then. I was the center of a great theater and thousands of eyes watched me with grave interest. At the edge of the clearing a man was stationed in the prow of every boat with an uplifted spear to prevent my clinging to the side. They wanted me to struggle. The longer I tried to keep above water the longer the spectacle would last. No matter how powerful a swimmer I might prove I would wear out my strength in time, and they were prepared to wait patiently to witness my antics and my final conquest.
The thought came to me to disappoint them by letting myself quietly drown at once; but so strong is hope in the human breast that I abandoned the idea and determined, instead, to fight it out to the very end.
I rested leisurely upon my back, trying to avoid giving way to excitement and wondering how long I could last, when suddenly a dark object swept across the sky, approaching me with marvelous rapidity. In an instant I knew it was the biplane, and the knowledge so excited me that it was almost fatal. I rolled over and began to sink; then I struggled to the surface to find the airship just over me.
“Catch hold of the frame—here—anywhere!” called an eager voice—eager though it strove to be calm.
I raised myself and made a frantic effort to obey, but failed and sank again. When I came to the surface a moment later the biplane was circling over the bay. Again it came toward me, and this time it dipped until it nearly touched the water. I grabbed the frame as it passed by and clung to it desperately, for it nearly jerked my arms from their sockets.
Arrows were whizzing about me in a cloud; the natives were shouting angrily and a thousand boats were rushing toward us; but the next instant I was high in the air, dangling from the frail crossbar of the lower plane, and my safety was only a question of whether I could hang on or not.
A face bent over me from the seat and stared into mine—a girl’s face.
“Lucia!” I cried in wonder.
“Save your breath and hold on!” she returned. “Can you manage it, Sam?”
“I’ll try—for awhile.”
“Till we get to the ship?”
“I—I’m afraid not.”
Indeed, this rush through the air was fast driving the life out of me. My arms and hands were so numb there was no feeling in them at all. Lucia had straightened up to attend to the machine, and the next thing I knew I bumped the earth, lost my hold, and went rolling over and over.
“Quick!” cried the girl. “Let me help you.”
I sat up, quite dazed, and glanced about me. We were in an open field, just now deserted by the natives, and Alfonso’s Antoinette rested upon the ground a short distance away. I could not have stood alone, but Lucia dragged me to my feet and half supported me while I tottered to the machine. It was a great effort to climb aboard, but the girl, naturally strong and rendered doubly so by excitement, got me into the seat and then deftly started the motors as she sprang up beside me.
The machine rolled along the ground a little way, lifted its nose and then soared into the air like a bird. I was still marveling at the girl’s wonderful control of the aëroplane when the ship came in sight. We dipped downward, the motor ceased to whir and the next moment we gracefully alighted full upon the deck of the ship.
A mighty cheer rang in my ears. Then all turned black and I lost consciousness.
CHAPTER XVI
THE WAY IT HAPPENED
When I recovered I was surrounded by my friends. Father and Uncle Naboth were administering restoratives while Ned Britton, Alfonso and Señor de Jiminez stood by in a sympathetic group with the sailors for a background. Lucia, squatted in a heap upon the deck, was sobbing into a wet handkerchief. Evidently, now that the adventure was over, the brave girl was wholly unnerved.
Still dazed, but trying to collect my thoughts, I sat up.
“Where’s Joe?” I asked.
My father was silent and Uncle Naboth shook his head. Lucia redoubled her sobs. This made me anxious. I got upon my feet with an effort and said:
“Isn’t he here?”
“No,” said Lucia, spreading out her hands with a piteous gesture. “He is in the Pearl City. I left him there.”
Then, by degrees, they explained it all to me. Joe could not rest contented while he knew I was in danger, and from his knowledge of King Attero he believed the savage ruler would drown me as soon as I ceased to interest him in my tales of the civilized world. He confided his fears to Lucia, and suggested that as the biplane was still reposing upon the roof of the house in the Pearl City, he might rescue me by its aid if he could succeed in getting there. He had already crossed the island twice, and believed he could make the trip in a single night. Lucia encouraged him to make the attempt, and offered to go with him; but he would not allow her to do that. When Joe mentioned the matter to father and Uncle Naboth they both disapproved the idea, considering it a hopeless and foolhardy adventure. They did not forbid him to go, however, but said if he undertook the thing he must do so on his own responsibility.
My friend would not be dissuaded, but he confided no further in my relatives and went about his preparations in his own way. With Lucia’s aid he made a stain that dyed his skin to a copper color, and then stripped himself of all clothing except a loin cloth such as the Faytans wore. He took a blanket and his revolvers and then, when all was ready and night came, Lucia let down a knotted rope for him and he climbed down the side unobserved and began his journey.
The girl, meantime, had made up her mind not to be deprived of the glory of a share in the adventure. With the impulsiveness of a Spaniard in her was united the athletic training of an American girl, and her romantic nature impelled her to an act that was no less than folly. She silently followed Joe and tracked him more than half way across the island before he discovered her. Then he was in a dilemma. She positively refused to return to the ship, and he did not like to have her do so unattended. On the other hand he had an intuition that I was in immediate danger and time pressed, so he dared not go back and postpone the event. Therefore he unwillingly permitted the girl to accompany him.
After they had succeeded in passing the warriors in the forest they met no delays on their journey and before daybreak arrived at the city. Joe found the house where we had left the airship, but could not get in. He secreted himself and Lucia in a nook between two rear buildings until morning, when the family that inhabited the place arose. By good luck they managed to creep in unobserved and made their way to the roof, where they found the biplane had been left undisturbed. The natives knew nothing of its operation and perhaps regarded the machine with superstitious awe.
In overhauling the machine Joe discovered that Lucia understood it as well as he did. She had watched us put it together and repair it after Alfonso’s accident and had listened carefully and intelligently while we were instructed in its use. Now she helped Joe adjust it, and they got it in order just as I was led out for my execution.
Peering over the edge of the roof Joe watched me being led away and at first could not understand what was up. But when the entire population not already gathered at the water front hurried after us, he gave a shrewd guess that the hour of my execution was at hand.
He knew pretty well what the programme would be. I was to be drowned in sight of the watching Faytans. The water front was not visible from their station on the housetop, but Lucia proposed she should take a flight in the airship and find out how seriously I was in danger.
He allowed her to go for two reasons. One was that he believed he could start the machine all right from the roof, which she could not do. And then, if she found a chance to rescue me, we could go back to the ship in the biplane and Lucia and I would both be saved. To go himself meant to leave her there alone upon the roof, in a strange city and surrounded by enemies.
Of course her mission was a desperate one at the best; but Joe considered it less hazardous than for her to be left upon the roof, and the biplane could not be trusted to carry three.
He questioned Lucia closely, and her knowledge of the machine was more accurate than his own. She had never operated it, but neither had he, for that matter, so in the end he let her go.
The biplane was started safely at the first attempt, and Lucia rose well into the air and circled around until she got her bearings and could overlook the tragedy being enacted on the bay. Then, seeing my danger, she headed directly for me—and the result you know.
“Where is he now?” I asked Lucia.
“Still in the Pearl City,” she replied. “Before I left him he said he would hide until to-night and then make his way back across the island.”
“Did he say where he would hide?”
“Yes. He was afraid some one would visit the roof as soon as the natives found that the airship had been taken away. So, while every one was on the water front, he intended to steal away and hide in the room that used to be your prison, at the back of the temple. He said no one would think of looking for him there, and he could get in through the windows and get out again when it grew dark.”
I didn’t like that plan very well, and began to be worried about my friend. I found my strength returning rapidly and as soon as I could get about I began to examine the airship, to see if it was in proper order. Alfonso, his arm in a sling and his head well bandaged, sauntered up to me and said:
“You fellows seem to have little respect for the property of others. See what trouble you’ve caused by stealing my Antoinette.”
“You are right,” I admitted. “What will you take for the machine?”
“I won’t sell it. It belongs to the revolution.”
“Well, the revolution can’t use it just now, and I can,” I returned. “So if you won’t sell it I’ll borrow it.”
“What are you going to do?” he inquired.
“I’m going to look for Joe. Those Faytans are in an ugly temper just now, and they’ll make a quick end of him if they find him.”
“Don’t be a fool, Sam,” cautioned Uncle Naboth.
“Joe can take care of himself,” added my father.
“I thought I could, too; but if Joe hadn’t tried to help me I’d be drowned by this time. Do you think I ought to desert a comrade, father?”
He looked at me thoughtfully a moment. Then he muttered as he turned away:
“Do as you like, Sam. You know best.”
I turned to Alfonso.
“How about the biplane?” I asked. “Can I borrow it, or must I steal it again?”
“Take it and welcome,” he replied. “Joe’s a good fellow. I wish I could go after him myself.”
Alfonso wasn’t half bad for a South American. He had his faults, but a lot of good qualities with them.
“You can’t go just now,” warned Lucia, who had been listening to us with nervous attention.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Look!” She pointed to the sky, and for the first time I noticed that it was a leaden gray. The sun had not wholly disappeared, but was a half luminous ball glowing through murky clouds.
“Another of them blamed storms is comin’,” remarked Uncle Naboth; “but we don’t have to shorten sail for ’em while we’re floatin’ on dry land.”
“The other storm didn’t come that way, sir,” observed Ned Britton, gravely.
We were silent now, for darkness fell upon us suddenly. It was almost as if a light had been extinguished at night. There wasn’t a breath of air stirring and the sea was like glass, but a queer moaning sound came to our ears and we could not discover what caused it.
“Better get below, Lucia, and look after your mother,” said Alfonso.
I could hear her move away obediently, but was unable to see any of the forms that stood around me.
We waited for we knew not what, and the unseen but recognized danger filled us with awe.
CHAPTER XVII
THE CONSEQUENCES
Suddenly the deck slid from beneath my feet and I fell flat upon my face. The ship heaved and rolled as if it were tossing upon the waves of the ocean, and her timbers creaked and groaned mournfully. At the same time crash after crash echoed around us, accompanied by a strange rending sound, as if all creation was being torn asunder.
Then the ship stood firm, as it had been before, trembling slightly at times but no longer tossing at its rock anchorage. The blackness continued, however, and our men lighted the lanterns, disclosing our white, pallid faces as we peered at one another questioningly.
Black Nux had raised me to my feet and was even yet partially supporting me.
“What is it?” I whispered.
“Eart’quake, Mars Sam,” he replied in a calm voice. “Guess it all over now.”
There were a few more trembles, and then came the rain—in a deluge, as it had rained before. We were all driven to seek shelter below, and there we waited anxiously for the sky to clear, that we might discover what cataclysms the quake had wrought.
It rained for two solid hours. The darkness continued for an hour or so longer. It lightened gradually, so that the first intimation I had of it was the clearing away of the shadows that had lurked in the corners of the cabin, where the lamplight did not penetrate. I went on deck, where I found Ned, with Nux and Bryonia and most of the crew, all peering anxiously through the dim light in the direction of the sea.
“What is it, Ned?” I asked, joining them.
“The reefs!” he said, pointing with a trembling finger. “Where are they, Sam?”
I also looked, straining my eyes to discover the two jagged lines of rock jutting out of the sea between us and the open water, as well as the boat patrol that had guarded them ever since the day of our shipwreck. But through the gray atmosphere I could see nothing but the broad expanse of ocean. The waves rolled in, one after another, and broke against the very rocks that held the Seagull a prisoner.
There was something queer about the position of the ship, too. Heretofore we had been perched between the two points of rock, full twenty feet above the sea. Now the waves almost lapped our sides, and instead of the rocky points being below us, they reared themselves far above the deck on either side.
I turned toward the island, from whence not a sound was heard. The light had strengthened sufficiently for me to see the forest line, and presently I was aware that some of the trees near the edge had tottered and fallen their length upon the plain. Otherwise the landscape seemed unchanged, and the open space between us and the forest, which had been the scene of such deadly conflict, looked just as it had before.
Truly the earthquake had wrought wonders, and in some ways had benefited us. The most startling change was the destruction of the reefs, leaving the sea free before us. The boats filled with warriors, placed to guard us from escaping, had been swallowed up with the reefs, and no vestige of that formidable array remained except a few fragments of the canoes which washed ashore.
Perhaps inspired by a common hope we all descended the ladders to the ground. There we were better able to appreciate all that had happened. Except that the sky was still gray and forbidding, we now had plenty of light to examine our surroundings clearly.
One glance at the Seagull dispelled our half formed hopes. Although her keel was now on a level with the ocean, which even lapped her bow, the ship was wedged fast between the two huge rocks. These must have separated during the earthquake and allowed her to settle down into her present position; but they still held her as in a vise.
“If another quake comes, which ain’t unlikely,” observed Uncle Naboth, “them rocks is liable to come together again, in which case they’d crack the Seagull’s sides like a nut in the jaws of a nutcracker.”
It was quite possible, and the statement did not reassure us in the least.
“If we could but manage to launch her,” said Alfonso, “we have now plenty of deep water for her to slide into.”
My uncle looked at the young Colombian reproachfully.
“Them ‘ifs’ seem to excuse a lot of fool remarks,” he said. “The only way to launch the Seagull would be with dynamite, and after that she wouldn’t be likely to float.”
It was now the middle of the afternoon, and although the sky continued gloomy there was no air stirring and I dared not wait longer if I meant to rescue Joe. I was very uneasy about my old chum, for the earthquake was likely to have created as much havoc at the Pearl City as it had at this end of the island.
My father had gone into the hold with the carpenter and Ned to examine the condition of the ship. The little damage we had sustained from the typhoon which had tossed the ship to her elevated perch had already been repaired—quite foolishly we thought. But the Seagull was still dear to the heart of Captain Steele, and he took as much care of her now that she was useless as when she was proudly riding the waves.
“What’s the programme?” asked Uncle Naboth, as I prepared to start.
“I’m going to try to get to the city and find Joe. If possible I’ll get him aboard and fetch him back with me. That’s as far as I can plan now, Uncle.”
“You won’t be foolhardy?”
“I’ll try not to be.”
Then I took my seat, Lucia started the motors, and a moment later I was flying over the forest.
CHAPTER XVIII
A RUN FOR LIFE
Ascending to an altitude of several hundred feet I attempted what is called the “spiral dip,” circling, in the air while gradually descending. But the shadows lay so thick in the forest that I could not tell whether any Faytans remained there or not. So I rose again and headed east across the island in the direction of the Pearl City.
I must have covered five of the ten miles in the next five minutes, and the machine was working perfectly, when on glancing down I discovered a native sprinting across the fields at a rapid pace. After him, but nearly a quarter of a mile away, rushed a horde of savages. There must have been at least two thousand of them, all intent upon the chase.
This was so peculiar that I did another spiral dip to get a little closer to the scene of action, and as I neared the ground and could see more plainly it suddenly flashed upon me that the flying native was Joe. Lucia had said that he had stained his skin and dressed himself in the native loin cloth, but I had forgotten that until now. It explained the scene perfectly. Joe had been discovered in the Pearl City, but had managed to escape and was now heading for the ship, followed by a host of pursuers.
My friend was a mighty runner; I knew that. It was Joe’s especial athletic accomplishment, and with such a lead I believed he could keep the Faytans behind him until he reached the ship, unless—unless the forest still harbored an army of warriors, in which case they could easily head him off.
With this contingency in mind I resolved to pick him up and take him with me; so, judging the distance as accurately as I could, I swooped downward and landed about a hundred yards ahead of the fugitive.
“Climb aboard, Joe!” I called. “Take it easy, old man. We’re safe enough now.”
He dashed up, panting but still full of energy, and said:
“How can we start her, Sam?”
“Take your seat, and I’ll show you,” I replied. I had seen Lucia do the trick and thought I could repeat it. The motor started, but the machine would not rise. It bumped along the rough ground a way until I became alarmed and stopped it.
“Try again,” said Joe, coolly.
I glanced over my shoulder and found the Faytans were getting uncomfortably near. But I kept my wits and took time to readjust the machine a little, so it would rise more quickly. A half dozen or so of the pursuers were well in advance of the others, and I suspected they might interfere with our start. So I faced about and carefully emptied my revolvers at them, halting all but one. Then I turned back to the machine, started the motor and ran beside it a few paces before I sprang into the seat.
Just then I heard a revolver crack beside me, but could pay no attention to it because the biplane was speeding into the air at a tremendous clip. It persisted in mounting upward, because I had adjusted it that way, and in working the steering gear to obviate this the machine got a side motion that was both unpleasant and dangerous.
“Steady her, Sam!” called Joe; but I couldn’t.
To add to my perplexity it grew dark again; the moaning sound was repeated, and looking down I saw the earth shaking under me like a bowl full of jelly. It was a horrible sight, and in my agitation I must have bungled in some way, for the fearful side motion increased, and both of us had to hold fast to keep from being hurled from our seats.
Suddenly the biplane took a dive—swift as a bullet, but was supported from falling by the outstretched planes. I lost all control, but managed to shut off the motor and then cling to the frame with all my might.
Down, down we went, but fortunately still gliding diagonally in the direction of the ship. It was a regular tumble by this time, and I am positive the biplane turned over and over several times. We just skipped the further edge of the forest and crashed into the branches of a fallen tree—one of those felled by the earthquake. With a jar that drove the breath out of me I bounded from the branches and fell prone upon the ground. Joe landed near me, and aside from the severe shock we both escaped serious injury or the breaking of bones and soon scrambled to our feet.
I had turned to glance at the biplane, now a hopeless mass of junk, when Joe suddenly caught my hand and said:
“We must run for it, Sam!”
Bursting in a stream from the forest came hundreds of Faytan warriors, brandishing their weapons as they ran. They were so near that an arrow or a well thrown spear might have caught us easily, but the savages seemed intent on capturing us.
I am not a great runner, but on this occasion, at least, I did myself credit as a sprinter. Joe’s hand in mine and his superior swiftness helped, of course, and we managed to keep a lead till we were near the ship, when a volley from the deck effectually halted our pursuers.
Even as we clambered up the side by means of the ladders they let down, the sky darkened again and another tremble shook the earth. It made us totter, but was not severe enough to cause any especial damage, and we were all getting used to the quakes by this time, so were not much frightened. Scientists have told me they are puzzled to explain this apparent connection between the sky and the earthquakes. Atmospheric conditions have nothing to do with earth convulsions, and vice versa, they say. Yet it is a fact that in Faytan we could tell when a “tremble” was coming by the sudden darkening of the sky.
The Faytans were learning a few lessons by experience. When the light became strong enough for us to see again we found the plain fairly alive with natives, and more were constantly pouring in from the forest.
At once all hands were assembled at the rail and our men lost no time in opening fire, for we did not dare give our enemies time to attempt to board us in such numbers, and it was now much easier to scale our sides since the ship had settled down to the sea level.
“Train the howitzers!” called my father, and the gunners leaped to their posts. We had not used the cannon before, as they had not been required, but now the savages were massed before us on the plain and a charge of grape and canister was more effective than many rifle balls.
We took the aggressive and without waiting to be attacked fired the two cannon, one after another, point blank into the mass of Faytans.
It was still too dark for us to see just what had been accomplished, but I shudder to think of the wholesale destruction we must have caused. They were doggedly determined, however, to get the “pale-skins” at any cost, and if we destroyed hundreds there were hundreds more to take their places.
Presently they were swarming below us so close that the cannon were only effective in slaughtering those crowding the plain behind them, and every one of us able to hold a rifle stood at the rail and picked off the nearest of our enemies. Their method of getting aboard was curiously primitive. One man clung to the end of a long pole, which others raised in the air and lifted so he could catch our rail. We had little difficulty at first in shooting these down as fast as they were raised to our level; but the attack was concerted with some skill, and every inch of the rail needed to be guarded.
“It must be the young king who is directing this battle,” I said to Joe as we stood side by side, firing whenever we saw a head appear.
“It can’t be the king,” he replied. “I shot him just as you carried me off in the biplane.”
“You shot the king!” I exclaimed.
“Yes. He was right upon us and about to grab the frame when I let go at him. Didn’t you hear me shoot?”
“Yes, but I was busy with the machine. I’m rather sorry for Attero,” I answered, regretfully.
“My opinion is that the Crooked One has planned this onslaught,” continued Joe, “and that he is bound to get us this time at any sacrifice. He’s a wily old fox.”
We were too busy after that for further conversation. The smoke and din of battle was something terrifying, and even now I wonder that the savages were not disheartened by the noise and the sight of their comrades falling on all sides of them. When we consider how unused they were to firearms we must admit their courage was wonderful.
I think we all began to realize that the situation was serious. On deck Alfonso was fighting as well as he could with his broken arm, while his father stood at his side and rendered an excellent account of himself. Below in the cabin Madam de Alcantara had first fainted and then gone into convulsions. Her shrill screams were not the least disheartening sounds that reached our ears, yet I knew Lucia and Madam de Jiminez were with her and that the poor lady was only frightened and not in a dying condition.
The constant tax on our nerves and the need to be constantly alert was fast wearing out the strongest of us. Bryonia, who had fought nobly, came over to me presently and suggested that we get the women into one of the small boats and launch it while all of us covered the retreat with our guns. He thought they might escape in that way, whereas we were almost certain to be overcome at length by sheer force of numbers, and then all would be doomed.
I did not approve of the attempt myself, but counseled with my father and Uncle Naboth, who promptly turned down the proposition. Just then four Faytans succeeded in leaping aboard, and were engaged in a hand to hand fight with Nux and Bry, who met them, when Ned got a sword through one and Joe disposed of another with a pistol shot. That evened the numbers and our blades were not long in ridding themselves of their opponents.
But this temporary invasion was a warning that we were losing ground and our enemies gaining confidence, so we redoubled our activity and found plenty to do in protecting ourselves from the boarders.
CHAPTER XIX
A CAPRICIOUS EARTHQUAKE
The fight was still raging fiercely when blackness fell upon us once more, and for the first time I became panic-stricken. The sky had not been clear all day, but we had managed to see until now, ever since the fight began, but with a black pall hanging all around us and thousands of enemies marking us for death the outlook was absolutely terrifying. The Faytans had not been afraid of the dark before, and if now they had the temerity to continue the attack we could not hope to resist them long.
My fears were soon justified. I heard Joe cry: “Look out, Sam!” and felt rather than saw a big warrior standing before me. The moaning sound that preceded a quake sang in my ears as I struck out furiously with my cutlass, and then the ship reared her stem and pitched us all in a struggling mass down the incline of the deck to the bow.
I struck against a naked body and two hands grasped my throat and effectually stopped my breath until I got a pistol out and shot my assailant dead. At least he relaxed his hold and slid away from me—and I slid too, rolling and bumping against obstacles of every sort till my bones cracked. And now through the pitch darkness everything seemed to go—ship and all—and a sheet of water struck me and made me gasp.
The Seagull was level now, but rolled from side to side while big waves dashed over her and rushed out of the scuppers in a perpetual stream. I heard a faint cheer from the forecastle; but now the elements were in a wild turmoil and I was too utterly bewildered to think.
The wind had instantly risen to a gale; the waves beat upon us in fury, and through the darkness the Seagull floundered here and there in an aimless way that was puzzling and perilous.
While I clung to a bit of rigging and tried to get my breath I realized but one thing clearly—that the ship was afloat again. An earthquake more severe than any that had previously occurred had split the two rocks asunder and allowed her to slide into the sea. But where were we now? And where were the Faytans?
It takes a good deal to phase Captain Steele. Even while I stood marveling my father had grasped the wheel, and, as our rudder and screw had been fully repaired the aimless pitching of the ship was rectified as soon as her head was brought to the wind and she faced the waves. Then suddenly the sky brightened sufficiently for us to see one another again.
In the bow stood huddled a group of nearly a dozen Faytan warriors, while our men were scattered here and there clinging to whatever support they could find. I found that Joe wasn’t a dozen yards away from me. The Seagull was floating serenely on a rather turbulent sea and the coast of Faytan was a quarter of a mile on our lee.
We stared at the warriors a moment, and they stared at us. Then with one accord we all made an advance toward the savages, determined to settle the fight the first thing we did. They did not wait for us, but leaped the rail into the sea and began swimming toward their island.
“Let ’em go!” shouted my father. “And some of you get busy and toss those bodies overboard. Where’s the firemen? Step lively, lads, and get up steam as soon as the Lord’ll let you.”
The men gave a cheer and responded with alacrity. We stripped all the pearl ornaments from the dead natives that cluttered the deck, and afterward threw the bodies overboard. During this operation I came upon Señor de Jiminez seated in the scupper with his back to the bulwark and sobbing like a baby.
“Is anything wrong, sir?” I asked anxiously.
“No—no! Everything is right,” he answered. “We are saved—the revolution is saved! Hurrah for the revolution!”
Joy affects some people that way, but I have no patience with men who cry.
We got up steam presently, but found the Seagull was leaking like a sieve. It took all the power of our engines to keep the pumps going; so my father ordered sail hoisted, and as the wind had moderated to a stiff breeze we were soon bowling along with the mainsail and jib set. The mizzenmast had gone by the board at the time of the wreck.
My father’s face wore an anxious expression and he called Uncle Naboth and me into the cabin for a consultation.
“We can keep afloat this way for a time—perhaps for days, if the leaks don’t get worse,” he said; “but it’s foolish to take such chances. There are islands near by, I’m sure. Shall we stop at the first one we sight?”
“H-m. It might prove to be another Faytan,” said my uncle, doubtfully. “I’ve had enough fighting to last me for a while.”
“Wait a moment,” said I. “I want to get Bry.”
“What for?” demanded my father.
“He’s the only one aboard who knows these seas,” I replied.
Bryonia came to the cabin and being questioned declared that he knew the way to his own island of Tuamotu from here, but could not tell how to get from there back to our regular course.
“I know, though,” said Captain Steele, “for Tuamotu is marked on my chart. It seems a French ship stopped there once, and did some trading with the natives, so I’ve got it pretty fairly located.”
“But what sort of a reception will your people give us, Bry?” I asked.
He smiled.
“I am Chief of Tuamotu,” he answered proudly. “I am equal to a king. My friends will be welcome.”
“All right,” said my father. “Take the wheel, Bry, and steer us towards Tuamotu.”
Bry became navigator then, and although he knew nothing of the science he possessed an instinct that guided him correctly. Having once been over the course from Tuamotu to Faytan he had the points firmly fixed in his mind, and as the distance was only about a hundred miles and the breeze held finely, on the second day we sighted a big island which both Bry and Nux declared to be Tuamotu.