Henty George Alfred
With Cochrane the Dauntless
CHAPTER V.
AGAIN ON THE ISLAND
Over such ground it was impossible to hurry, but in three-quarters of an hour they reached the edge of the wood.
“I have been thinking that we had better take to the water for a bit,” Stephen said. “They are sure to think that you have made for the coast, and they will not be long in finding our footmarks. Though I don’t know much about the Malays, I expect they can follow a track like all other savages. The only thing to settle is whether we shall swim across the river and go along in that direction, or keep on this side. We have not seen anything of alligators, and I don’t think the sharks ever cross the bars and come into fresh water.”
“All right, sir! If you think it is best to cross, I am ready,” Wilcox said. “A dip will do us good, for the heat in that wood is enough to roast an ox; besides, it will wash the mud off us. But we must look about for a log to put the gun and our pistols and the ammunition on, we must not risk wetting that.”
There were many pieces of drift-wood by the edge of the water, and choosing one of them they fastened the weapons and cartridges on the top, and then, entering the water and pushing it before them, swam over to the opposite side. Then taking the arms again they let the log drift down the river, and keeping in the water ankle-deep they followed the stream down to the sea, and continued their course along the sand washed by the surf.
“How long a start do you think we shall get, Wilcox?” Stephen asked.
“I should say that two hours is as much as we can hope for.”
“Well, we shall be a good long way off by that time. I feel a new man after that swim.”
“So do I,” Joyce said, speaking more briskly than he had hitherto done.
“Well, we had better set off at a trot,” the sailor said. “I expect those beggars can run a good deal faster than we can. The great thing is for us to get so far away before it gets dark that they won’t be able to see our figures. If it is eight bells before they fairly set off after us, they will only have a little better than two hours and a half. They are sure to be thrown out for a bit at the mouth of the river. They will see our footsteps at the water side, but won’t know whether we have crossed or have kept along on that side. Very likely some of them will go one way and some the other, still they are sure to have a talk and a delay. They ought not to travel twice as fast as we have, at any rate, and they would have to do that to catch us before it is dark.”
They set off at a brisk trot. The sand was fairly hard below the spot where the surf rushed up over it, and the walking was easy in comparison to that in the swamp or on loose sand. Still it was hot work. The sun blazed down upon them, there was not a breath of wind, and they were drenched with perspiration. They kept on steadily, however, slackening only occasionally into a walk for two or three minutes, and then going on again at a sharp pace.
“They won’t catch us before it gets dark,” the sailor said confidently. “I reckon we must be making near seven knots an hour, and even a Malay could not go at fourteen; besides, they will have to keep a sharp look-out for footmarks in the sand above water-mark, as we might at any time come up from the water and take to the forest. Anyhow, we must keep it up as long as we can go. We ain’t running for amusement, it is for a big prize, for our lives depend on our keeping ahead.”
Anxiously they watched the sun as it sank down towards the horizon, and there was an exclamation of satisfaction as it disappeared below the water.
“Another half-hour and we shall be able to take it easy,” Stephen said. “I should not think they would keep up the search after dark, and then we could safely take to the forest. The wind is springing up already, and this light drifting sand will cover all signs of our footsteps before morning.”
“We had better keep in the water as long as we can, Master Steve. They can’t trace our footsteps here, but they might under the trees. These sort of chaps are like dogs. I expect they can pretty well follow you by smell, and the hope of getting heads will keep them at it as long as there is the slightest chance of their overtaking us.”
“Well, we may as well be on the safe side anyhow, Wilcox, and will keep on here as long as we can drag our feet along. We have got no boots to pinch our corns, and every time the surf rushes up it cools our feet, so we ought to be able to keep on till eight bells in the middle watch, by that time I should think we shall have gone something like forty miles from that river.”
“All that,” the sailor agreed. “It was about four bells when we swam across, and in the four hours we have certainly gone twenty-four knots, and I should say a bit further than that. If we only make three knots for the next six hours, we shall have logged over forty by eight bells, and I should say that even the Malays will hardly come as far as that, especially as the men who take this side won’t be sure that we have not gone the other, and have been caught by their mates.”
They kept steadily on, but their speed gradually abated, and for the last two hours before the hands of Stephen’s watch pointed to twelve o’clock, they stumbled rather than walked.
“I think that will do,” he said at last, “it is nearly eight bells now. Let us tread in each other’s footsteps as well as we can, so that there shall only be one line of marks.”
The change from the firm sand to the yielding drift—in which their feet sank three or four inches—finished them, and although they had not more than a hundred yards to walk to the trees, it seemed to them that they would never get there. At last they reached the edge of the forest, staggered a few paces in, and then without a word dropped down and almost instantaneously fell asleep.
The sun was high when they woke. Stephen was the first to get on to his feet. He went to the edge of the trees and looked across. To his satisfaction he saw that the drifting sand had obliterated all trace of their passage.
“Then I vote,” Wilcox said, when he was told the news, “that we go a bit further into the wood and camp there for the day. I am just aching from head to foot.”
“I think we must go on a bit further, Wilcox. You see there are no cocoa-nuts here, and we must keep on until we come to a grove of them. The trees are never far apart, and we may not have a mile to go. We certainly can’t stay here all day without something to eat and drink. You see we threw our nuts away when we started.”
“I suppose you are right, sir,” the sailor said, slowly getting up on to his feet; “but it is hard, after such a run as we made yesterday, to have to get up anchor again.”
“Well, we can take it easily, Wilcox, and we will stop at the first cocoa-nut tree we come to. Now, Tom, as we go along you shall tell us about yesterday, we have not heard a word yet.”
“Well,” began Joyce, “we paddled up the river, as you know. It was as much as we could do sometimes to make head against the current. I suppose we had been gone about an hour when we saw a troop of monkeys on the boughs of a tree overhanging the water. They did not seem a bit afraid of us, but chattered and screamed. We shot three of them. I did not fire, for I could not bring myself to kill one of them. It was like shooting at a child. We picked them out of the water and put them in the boat, and then paddled on again. We had just got to a turn in the river when two big canoes came round the corner. It was of no use our trying to get away, for they could go six feet to our one. Mr. Towel stood up in the stern and held both his arms up to show that we were friendly, but directly afterwards a shower of spears came whizzing down at us. One hit Jackson, who was in the bow, somewhere in the body. He fired at them, and then fell down in the bottom of the boat. Then the rest of us fired, and for a moment they sheered off, but the men had just time to reload their guns when the Malays came at us. The men fired again, and a moment later the canoes ran alongside. We took to our pistols, but the Malays came leaping on board like demons.
“I don’t know anything more about that part of the business, for I got a crack on the head with a club, and did not know anything more till I was hauled on shore and chucked down. Then I saw them bring from the canoes the heads of all the others. It was frightful. Then they dragged the bodies out from the bottom of the canoes. They had all been stripped, and I believe I should have fainted if a big Malay had not given me a tremendous kick, and made me walk up to the village. As soon as I got there they tied me up and staked me out. There was a tremendous noise and shouting and yelling, but what was done I don’t know, as I could see nothing but the sky and the wall of the hut. It was an awful time; first because I knew that sooner or later they would kill me, and in the next place, because I was driven pretty nearly mad by the flies and things that settled on my face. Of course I could not brush them away, and all that I could do was to shake my head, and they did not seem to mind that. It seems ridiculous that, after seeing one’s friends killed and knowing that one is going to be killed oneself, one should worry over flies, but I can tell you I went nearly out of my mind with irritation at the tickling of their feet. It seemed to me that I was there for ages, though I knew by the height of the sun that it was only about noon. The thirst, too, was fearful, and I made up my mind that the sooner they came and killed me the better. I found myself talking all sorts of nonsense, and I do think that I should have gone out of my mind before the day was over. When first I heard your voice I thought it must be a dream, like some of the other ideas that came into my mind. I had thought of you both when I was first fastened up, and wondered whether the Malays would find you. I had even thought at first that if you only knew where I was you might try to get me away after dark if I was not killed before that, and you can guess my feelings when I became convinced that it was really you. How did you know what had happened?”
“You must have been insensible for a good bit, Tom. We heard the firing, and thought that there was too much of it for shooting monkeys, and that you must have been attacked, so we made our way along among the bushes by the bank. Presently the two canoes came down, and we made out some heads in the stern of each boat. They went to the mouth of the river, to see, no doubt, if there was a ship there. They came back again in half an hour. We tried to count the heads, and both of us thought that there were about the same number in each boat. Of course we could not be sure, but we determined to come on to the village and find out for certain. I climbed up a high tree a short distance from it—the one where we came upon the cocoa-nuts—and made you out lying beside a hut. I knew by the white ducks that it was either you or poor Towel. Then we worked round, waited until the village had gone off to sleep, and then came for you. You see the Malays had no idea that there were any more whites about, and therefore took no trouble about you. No doubt they thought that the boat had escaped from a wreck, and that all who had got away in her had gone up the river together. Ah! there is a cocoa-nut. I am glad our walk is over, for I am beginning to feel hot and thirsty.”
“So am I, and stiff and sore all over.”
The cocoa-nut tree was the first of a grove. Stephen, who was by far the most active of the party, soon climbed one of the trees, and threw a score of nuts down. They went a little distance further back into the forest. Each consumed the contents of four nuts, then two of them lay down to sleep again, while the other kept watch. The march was not resumed until after sunset. They had another meal of cocoa-nuts before they started, and each took three nuts for use on the journey. They again walked at the edge of the water, as they had done the day before. It was by far the pleasantest way, and they kept on until daylight appeared, and then again went into the wood.
“I should think now,” Stephen said, as after a good sleep they ate a cocoa-nut breakfast, “that we need not bother any more about the Malays of that village. It is quite possible that we passed another last night, though of course the sand-hills would have prevented our seeing it. The question is now, what are we to do next?”
“That is what I was thinking all the time that we were walking last night,” Joyce said. “We can’t keep on tramping and living on cocoa-nuts for ever.”
“That is quite certain, Tom, but there is no reason why we should do so. There must be some villages on this coast, and when we start this evening I vote we keep along here instead of going down to the water. Where there is a village there must be fishing canoes, and all we have got to do is to take one, and put to sea. I don’t mean to say that we can get in and push straight away, for we must have some provisions; but when we have found a village we can hide up near it, and get as many cocoa-nuts as we can carry. Besides, there are sure to be bananas and other fruit-trees close by, and after laying our cocoa-nuts down by the edge of the water, we can go up and cut as many bananas as we like, and then we shall have enough food to last us ten days or so. There is one comfort, wherever we may land there cannot be a worse lot of Malays than there are about here.”
“That is a capital plan, Master Stephen,” Wilcox said. “I have not been thinking of a village, except as to how to get past it; but, as you say, there is no reason why we should not make off in a canoe.”
The next night they kept along just inside the trees, and had walked but two hours when they found that these ended abruptly, and that they stood on the edge of a clearing.
“Here is your village, Stephen.”
“Yes; one hardly hoped to find one so soon. Well, the first thing is to go down and search in the sand-hills for canoes.”
Four or five were found lying together in a hollow some twenty yards beyond high-water mark. They examined them carefully.
“Any of them will do,” Wilcox said, “but I think this is the best one. It is a little larger than the others, and the wood feels newer and sounder. I expect she is meant for four paddlers, and she will carry us and a fair cargo well.”
“That is settled, then,” Stephen said. “I propose that we go back some little distance from the village, get our cocoa-nuts at once, and bring them back and hide them in the bushes not far from where the clearing begins. It will save time to-morrow.”
“Why should we not go to-night?” Joyce asked. “It is only about nine o’clock now, and if we get the cocoa-nuts near here, we can make two or three journeys down to the boat with them, and be off before midnight.”
“So we might, Tom. What do you say, Wilcox?”
“The sooner the better, says I,” the sailor replied. “As Mr. Joyce says, we can be off by eight bells easy, and we shall be out of sight of this village long before daybreak.”
“Well, Wilcox, will you and Mr. Joyce get the cocoa-nuts, and while you are doing it I will creep round this clearing and get bananas. I can see lots of their broad leaves over there. As I get them I will bring them to this corner, and by the time you have got a store of nuts, I shall have a pile of bananas. I think you had better go four or five hundred yards away before you cut the nuts, for they come down with such a thump that any native who is awake here might very well hear them.”
“We will go a bit away, sir,” Wilcox said, “but if we take pains to let them drop each time just as there is a puff of wind, there is no fear of their hearing them.”
They separated, and Stephen, entering the clearing, soon came upon a banana tree with long bunches of the fruit. Two of these were as much as he could carry, and his portion of the work was soon done, and indeed he had carried them down to the water’s edge before his companions had brought three loads of cocoa-nuts to the point where he had left them. He helped to take these down, then the canoe was lifted and carried to the edge of the water, being taken in far enough to float each time the surf ran up. Then the fruit was placed in it.
“I wish we had poor Mr. Towel with us to take her through the surf,” Wilcox said.
“I wish we had; but fortunately it is not very heavy.”
“No, sir; it is sure not to be,” the sailor said. “I have noticed that they always put their villages at points where the surf is lighter than usual. I suppose the water is shallower, or deeper, or something. I don’t know what it is, but there is certainly a difference. Besides, there has been no wind to speak of since we landed, and the waves are nothing to what they were then. Now, gentlemen, as I am more accustomed to this sort of thing than you are, I will take the place in the stern, where I can steer her a bit. The moment she floats as the surf comes in, and I see the chance is a good one, I will give the word; then we will all paddle as hard as we can, and go out as the surf draws back, so as to meet the next wave before it breaks. Everything depends on that.”
They took their places in the canoe, and grasped the paddles that they had found in her. Two or three waves passed under them, and then they saw one higher than the others approaching them.
“We will go out on the back of this one,” Wilcox said. “Paddle the moment the surf lifts the canoe, and don’t let her be washed up a foot.”
The wave fell over with a crash, and a torrent of foam rushed up towards them.
“Now,” Wilcox exclaimed, as the white line reached the bow, “paddle for your lives!”
For a moment, in spite of their desperate efforts, they were carried upwards, then the canoe seemed to hang in the air, and they were riding forward with the speed of an arrow on the receding water.
“All you know,” Wilcox shouted, and as the rush of water ceased they drove her ahead to meet the next wave. It rose higher and higher. The canoe reached it, and, as it passed under them, stood almost upright. Two or three more desperate strokes, and they heard a crash behind them.
“Row, row!” Wilcox shouted, as they felt the boat drawn backwards. It was but for a few seconds, then they moved ahead again, passed over the next wave, and were safe. They now settled to steady paddling, and before they had gone many hundred yards from shore they no longer felt the long smooth rollers, over which the canoe glided insensibly.
By daylight the land they had left was far behind them, the low-lying coast had sunk from their view, and the hills behind were almost shrouded from sight by the mist that rose from the swamps.
“It was well we rescued Mr. Joyce before it was dark,” the sailor said to Stephen. “One night in those swamps is enough to lay any white man up with fever. That was why I was so anxious to get him away at once. I did not think that they would kill him straight off. If they had wanted him for the feast they would have cut off his head when they caught him. I expect they would have kept him for some other occasion; but I wanted to get him out of it before the mists began to rise from the swamps. Now, sir, as we are well away, shall I put her head north or south?”
“I don’t think it matters much, Wilcox. There is some high land just ahead now, we may as well make in that direction as any other; but if we get to a small island on the way, I should think that it would be safest to land there, and wait for a few days anyhow, as we agreed before, to see if there are any signs of a sail. At any rate, we won’t go near, by daylight, any island likely to be inhabited.”
After paddling for some hours they saw a low island that seemed to be about a quarter of a mile in diameter, and headed towards it. Before they reached it, however, Wilcox said:
“Do you know, Mr. Joyce, I have been thinking for some time that I knew that hill we were pointing to, and, now we have opened it out a bit more, I feel sure of it.”
The lads ceased paddling, and looked intently at the hill, now some twelve miles away. It had a flat top that seemed to be split asunder by a crack running through it.
“I know it now,” Stephen exclaimed excitedly, “it is the island where that wreck was.”
“That is it, sure enough, sir. I have been thinking it was so for some time, but it is only now that I have caught the light through that gap at the top. It was more open from the point where the Tiger lay when we started for shore, but if we row on for a mile or two and then make straight for it, I think we shall just about strike the point where the wreck is lying. No, I think we had better wait a while, Mr. Joyce,” he said, as the latter dipped his paddle in the water and turned the boat’s head towards the island.
“I think we had better wait till the sun gets pretty low. We know there ain’t any villages near the wreck, for she must have been there a good month afore we found her, and it was certain then that no native had been near her. Still there may be some higher up on the slopes, and they might make us out, so it is better that we should not get within six or eight miles of land before it begins to be dark. We could not go to a better place. First of all, there are no natives; secondly, we may pick up all sorts of useful things about the shore. We did not see anything but bales and wreckage where we landed, but it was all rock there. Now some of the casks and things may have floated along, and have been cast up upon the sand. Then, it is about the likeliest point for sighting the Tiger. The skipper would naturally say to himself, There is no saying where the boat has gone to, but if it is anywhere near the island where we lost them, they would be likely to make for the wreck in hopes of finding some provisions cast up there; and so he would sail round to have a look.”
“I think he would,” the boys both agreed, letting the boat drift quietly. They made a hearty meal of bananas and cocoa-nut milk, and then all lay down in the canoe and dozed for some hours. The two lads were roused by Wilcox saying:
“I think, gentlemen, we can paddle on quietly now; the sun will be setting in less than an hour.”
Resuming their seats, they paddled gently on until the sun disappeared, then quickened their pace, and in another hour reached the shore. They had no difficulty in landing, for the side on which the wreck was lying was sheltered by the island itself from the rollers, and it was a sandy beach.
“I don’t think that we are far from the spot,” Wilcox said, “for we made straight for that crack on the hill, and kept it open all the while. I reckon we can’t be more than half a mile from where the wreck was lying.
“I don’t suppose we shall see anything of that, the cyclone must have finished it. However, we will walk along the shore till we get to the spot. We cannot mistake that. We will keep a bit back from the sea. We may light upon something as we go, but it will be sure to be well inland; you know we saw how far the sea washed things up beside the wreck.”
The night was too dark, however, for them to distinguish objects ten yards away, and they soon came down to the water’s edge again, following it until the character of the shore changed and rocks took the place of the sand.
“That is all right,” the sailor said; “now I think we had better go back to the boat again till we get daylight. It would never do to walk across these rocks in the dark with naked feet. It was bad enough when it was light, but we should cut our feet to pieces if we tried it now. There is no hurry about it, as we are within half a mile of the wreck. We know that everything is pretty well smashed up that went ashore there, so that we are far more likely to find something on the sands, and we shall see the Tiger just as well from where the canoe is as from the wreck. The first thing to look for is water. I don’t say that the cocoa-nuts would not supply us for another week; but if we are going to stay here long—and for my part I don’t see anything better to do—we must either find another cocoa-nut grove or water.”
“I don’t think we are likely to find another cocoa-nut grove,” Stephen said.
“Why not, sir? They have them mostly on all these islands.”
“That is true,” Stephen agreed; “but I should say it is just because there are none here that there are no villages anywhere about.”
“I did not think of that, sir; yes, I expect you are right; and in that case it is still more necessary to hunt for water. If we can find it within four or five miles either side of the wreck we are all right, because the Tiger could not come here without our seeing her; but I should not like to be much further away. However, most of these islands have water, especially when they are hilly; and as we have been lucky so far, it will be hard if we don’t find a stream of some sort along ten miles of shore.”
The next morning they set out on a tour of exploration. They were not long before they came upon many relics of the wreck: planks, spars, and remains of the cargo. They lay nearly two hundred yards from the shore, and bore no signs of the rough usage that had marked the wreckage among the rocks.
“Hurrah! there are some tubs,” Joyce shouted, as they reached the top of a low sand-hill. They broke into a run, and were soon standing beside six casks, lying a short distance apart.
“Salt junk,” Wilcox said, as they looked at the cask they first came to, “and no bad thing either; cocoa-nuts are good for drink, but that soft, pulpy stuff inside don’t go very far; and after a chap has been eating it for a week he wants to get his teeth into something more substantial. This ain’t no good,” he went on, giving a kick at the next cask, “unless the natives come up and we open trade with them. These are goods they shipped at Calcutta. This is better,” he went on, as he looked at the next; “this ’ere is biscuits; and with biscuits and salt junk, and a banana now and then, no man need grumble.”
The next two were, like the second, filled with trade articles; the last was a cask of flour.
“Well, we can stop here a couple of months if we like, gentlemen, if we can but hit upon water; for that, of course, we must look beyond the line of sand; a river can cut through it, but a little stream would find its way underneath the sand to the sea.”
As they approached the rocky ground, which rose like a ridge, and could be traced far inland, the sailor said: “This is the most likely spot. Any water that came down from the hills would run along at the foot of these rocks to the sea.”
“I think that you are right, Wilcox; the foliage looks brighter along by the rocks than it does anywhere else, and I should not be surprised if we found a stream there.”
As they approached the rocks within a hundred yards, the hope became a certainty, for there was some growth of verdure. They quickened their steps and ran forward, but, to their disappointment, there was no stream, however small.
“We have got to dig for it,” Wilcox said; “there is water not far down, I will swear.”
The soil was chiefly composed of sand, and they set to work with their hands to scrape a hole in it. They had got but a foot down when the soil became moist, and a foot lower water began to ooze out of the sides into the hole.
“Thank God for that!” the sailor said reverently, “that makes it safe. This evening, when it gets cool, we will bring the paddles here, and will soon dig a hole for our well. We can’t do better than roll a tub here and sink it in the hole, and bring the canoe to the edge of that rock down by the sea, then we have only got to chop some boughs and make a sort of hut, and we shall be as comfortable as if we were back home.”
“It is curious finding a rock here,” Joyce said presently, as they made their way over to it. “For all the distance that we have gone along by the sea, it has been nothing but sand: it is rum black-looking stuff, too.”
“I expect it is lava,” Stephen said. “There are lots of volcanoes among these islands, and I believe that high hill is one, and that if we were to climb up we should find there was a crater there. You see we are just in a line with that gap, and this rock goes exactly in that direction. I expect that in some eruption ever so long ago, the crater split there, and the lava poured down here into the sea.”
“Very likely that is it, Stephen; it must have been a long time ago anyhow, you see there are big trees growing on it.”
In ten minutes they arrived at the spot where the wreck had been; her keel remained there, but with this exception she had entirely disappeared. They took another look among the wreckage, cut off some lengths of rope and coiled them up, and also a sail, which the sailor pronounced to be a top-gallant sail. This they rolled up, fastened it by short pieces of rope, and then, the sailor taking the middle and the lads the ends on their shoulders, they carried it to what they already called their “well”.
“We will set to work at once to rig up a tent under the shade of these trees,” the sailor said, “it will keep the night mists off better than branches; and we will bring another sail over to cover the ground and keep the mist from rising inside.”
“What are we going to cook our junk in?” Joyce asked suddenly.
The sailor looked at his companion in dismay. “Dash my timbers,” he said, “I never thought of that; that is a go. Perhaps we can manage it in the native way: they boil things by putting water into a big shell, and dropping hot stones into it until it boils. We have not got any shells, but we might find a hollow in the rock that will hold water.”
“That is all very well, Wilcox; but how are we going to heat our stones?”
“You have done me there, Master Stephen,” the sailor said, in a tone of utter disgust; “we have not got flint or tinder.”
“We might manage the tinder easily enough,” Stephen said, “by using rotten wood; but tinder is of no use without steel. We shall have to eat our biscuits without meat, Wilcox, unless we can light a fire by rubbing two sticks together.”
