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Fire Island, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 11. A Fight With Fate |
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_ CHAPTER ELEVEN. A FIGHT WITH FATE
"Silence man, silence," said Panton, as he sat upon the burnt-up earth, holding his head with both hands, while Wriggs staggered about close at hand, laughing idiotically. "But I can't, sir," cried Smith, in a whimpering tone. "If I'd been ashore somewhere and met mates, and we'd been standing treat to one another, I wouldn't keer, but I'm sober as a hundred judges, that I am." "Will you be silent, man? I want to think," said Panton, as he rocked himself to and fro. "Yes, sir, d'reckly, sir, but don't you go thinking that of a man. I know I can't stand straight, for all the bones has gone out of my legs, and soon as I move I go wobble-wobble like cold glue." "Yes, yes, I know, I'm unsteady, too," said Panton impatiently. "But is it fits, sir? And do they take you like that?" "No, no, my man, I suppose it's the gas." "Gas, sir," cried Smith, looking round stupidly. "What's it been escaping again? Gammon, sir: they aren't got no gas out here. I say, Billy Wriggs, don't make a hexibition of yourself. Keep quiet, will yer?" "I can't, mate. It's a rum 'un, it is. What have the guvnors been givin' of us to drink?" "I d'know, Billy. But do stand still." "I can't, mate, my legs will keep going and gettin' tangle up like one along o' the other, and knocking themselves together." "Then lie down afore I hits yer." "You won't hit me, Tommy," said the man, with a silly laugh. "Tell yer I shall. You aggravate me so, doing that there." "Will you two men leave off talking?" cried Panton, angrily. "I can't think. Your words buzz in my brains like a swarm of bees. Ah, I have it now. Where is Mr Lane?" "Mr Lane, sir?" said Smith, feebly, as he looked round, and then with his eyes staring and blank, he began to feel in his pockets. "Yes, yes, man. Where is he?" "I d'know sir. I aren't seen him. Where's Mr Lane, Billy? You got him?" Wriggs chuckled as if he had been asked the most ridiculously comic question he had ever heard. "I d'know, matey," he said. "It's o' no use to ask me." Smith lurched at him with his fists clenched, as if about to strike, but the intention was stronger than the power, and resulted in the sailor blundering up against his mate, and both going down together, and then sitting up and staring at each other in a puzzled way as if they found it impossible to comprehend their position. At that moment Drew came staggering toward them out of the mist with his gun over his shoulder and his head down as he gazed at the ground, looking as if at any moment he would fall. "Ah!" cried Panton, excitedly. "I had quite forgotten you, Drew." "Eh?" said the botanist, stopping short. "Someone call?" "Yes; I--Panton. Come here." "He's got it, too, Billy," said Smith. "I say, what's the matter with all on us? Was it that water we drunk?" "No, I aren't drunk!" cried Wriggs, suddenly dropping his good-tempered idiotic manner. "If you says I'm drunk, Tommy Smith, I shall hit yer. Smell that!" He placed a big tarry fist close under his messmate's nose, and then, as if amused thereat, he began to laugh again. "I never said such a word, Billy," said Smith, taking the big fist, opening it out again, and clapping his hand into it loudly before pumping it affectionately up and down. "I said it was the wa--_tlat tlat tlat_--Oh, I say, matey, I am thirsty." "Eh?" said Drew, dreamingly, in answer to a question. "Where's Lane? Yes, where's Lane?" "Ah!" cried Panton, starting up now, and looking wildly round. "Yes, I understand, I think. It was the gas--the volcanic gas in that mist. For heaven's sake rouse yourself, Drew. Lane's in there still, and we must fetch him out. Here, all of you come and help." He made for the pale, misty curtain before them, but only tottered a few steps, and then fell heavily upon his face with a groan. "He's deal worse than us is," said Smith, who was now beginning to think more clearly. "Billy, old man, it was that water we drank, and the natives have been pysoning it to kill the fishes, and killed us instead." "Eh! What!" "Native savages been trying to pyson the fishes, and pysoned us instead, matey. I said it afore, Billy Wriggs--I says it again, and I'll go on saying on it for a week if that'll do you any good." "I'm all right, matey. I'm all right, Tommy. But what do the native savages want to pyson the fishes for? Never did the savages any harm." "Billy Wriggs, you'd better get a noo head, mate, and send this one to be cleaned." "Ay! You're right, mate, for this here one won't go at all. Feels as if some'un had been sifting sea-sand into the works. But what had the fishes done?" "Nothing. Pyson 'em to float atop, and ketch 'em to eat. Now come and help sooperior officers as have tumbled down all of a heap." As he spoke, Smith rose from the ground to which he had fallen, and reeled toward Panton and Drew, slowly, and as if he could only see them dimly at a distance, while Wriggs followed his example, and came on in a zigzag, idiotic way. Suddenly Smith stood up erect, and uttered a hoarse cry, as he stared wildly at his companions. "Here!" he yelled. "Help! I know now. Mr Lane. He went in there with us, and he aren't been out. Come on!" His strength and honest manly feeling had come back with the flash of light which had illumined his brain, and rushing straight for the mist, they saw him begin to grow bigger as if looked at through a magnifying glass, increasing in size till he was monstrous, indistinct and blurred, and then completely disappear. The man's cry and subsequent action roused them, and all staggered after him with their power of thinking clearly returning, and with it a feeling of horror as they grasped the fact that two of their party were now lost in the strange belt of vapour, whose fumes had so strangely overcome them. "We must help them," cried Panton wildly. "Come on: follow me." He started for the mist before them, but before he could reach it, Smith staggered and reeled out, striking against him, and then catching his breath as if he had been held under water, or as a man rises to the surface after being nearly drowned. "Stop!" he panted, with his eyes seeming to start out of his head. "You can't go. A man can't breathe in there. I'll try again, d'reckly, gentlemen, but--but! oh, the poor, brave, handsome lad! I--I--" The big, strong, rough fellow's voice became indistinct, and the sobs rose to his throat, nearly choking him in the weakness he vainly strove to hide. "Come, come," said Panton hoarsely, as he supported the man, Drew trying hard the while to shake off the effects of the vapour and be of some service. "He liked him, gents," growled Wriggs, an the strange intoxication seemed now to have passed off. "Yes," cried Smith, hysterically. "Course I did, gentlemen, and I'm going in again to try and fetch the poor lad out. But," he continued feebly, "you can't breathe in there, and it takes hold on yer somehow and sucks the strength out of yer. It's like when poor Joe Noble went down in the hold among the foul air, and it killed him right off at wunst." "There, hold up," said Panton, firmly now. "I'll go this time." "Yes, sir, and we'll go together and take hold of hands," cried Smith. "Ay, all on us," growled Wriggs, "and take hold o' hands and fetch him out afore we've done." Drew said nothing, but as Wriggs caught hold of Smith's hand, he seized Panton's, and, moved as if by one mind, they stepped quickly forward, feeling at the end of a dozen paces that there was a difference in the air they breathed, which grew thicker as their sight became less clear and their motions more heavy. But hand clenched hand with more convulsive violence, and in step they kept on till first one and then another reeled and staggered, and it was only by turning suddenly round and stumbling back over their track that they were able to reach the free fresh air before, to a man, they staggered and fell to the ground. Panton was the first to speak. "I'd try again," he groaned, "but I have not the strength." "Ay, and I'd go, sir, but it's as I said!" cried Smith piteously. "Think he can be alive yet?" "Heaven only knows," sighed Panton, as he tried to sit up, but sank back again, while Drew turned his face toward them and gazed at his companions with a strangely vacant expression that in its helplessness was pitiful to see. "Tommy!" gasped Wriggs suddenly, as he lay flat on his face, "hit me, will yer, matey--hit me hard. That there feeling's come all over me again, and I don't know what I'm a doing, or what I'm a saying. It's just as if I'd been struck silly and my legs had run away." "Try--try again, Smith," groaned Panton. "Give me your hand. I think I am stronger now." "Not you, sir," replied the sailor. "Here, hi! Billy Wriggs, whatcher doing on?" For the man had slowly raised himself upon his feet again, and was tottering toward the mist. "I'm a-going, matey, to fetch that there young natooralist out o' yonder if I dies for it: that's what I'm a-going to do." He spoke in a low muttering growl, and the man's looks and actions as he reeled and groped his way along were those of one stupefied by some strong narcotic. "But yer can't do it, lad," cried Smith, rising to his knees. "Come back." "I'm a-going to fetch out that there young natooralist," muttered Wriggs, as he staggered on. "But I tell yer yer can't," shouted Smith. "Quick, let's try again," said Panton, struggling to his feet once more, and now with Smith also erect and grasping his hand, they two came on in Wriggs' track, just as Drew rolled over quite insensible. They did not advance a dozen paces, for Wriggs, who had tottered on strong in his determination to do that which his nature forbade, gave a sudden lurch and fell heavily, head in advance, and the others knew that he must be within the influence of the mephitic vapour. It was hard work to think this, for, as Smith afterwards said, it was like using your brain through so much solid wood; but in a blind helpless fashion they tottered on, and, bending down, each caught one of the man's ankles, and dragged him back by their weight more than by any mechanical action of their own, each movement being a kind of fall forward and the natural recovery. The result was that step by step Wriggs was dragged from where the vapour was inhaled till Drew was reached, and they sank upon the bare burnt earth again, bewildered, and lacking the power to think, as if the mists had gathered thickly in their brains, and they could do nothing else but lie and wait for the return of strength. _ |
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