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Fire Island, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 48. A Wet Race For Life |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT. A WET RACE FOR LIFE These were harsh and cruel words to use respecting the man who had shown so much true manliness of disposition; but there are times when we all show what a great deal of the imperfect there is in our natures, and this was one of those times with Oliver, who, judging by the mate's acts, formed the conclusion that, seeing their case was desperate, and a way out to save his own life, he had, in sudden panic, fled. "Seems like it," said Drew, sadly. "But quick, lie down. No, let's get behind here." The need of concealment was pressing, for they were standing out upon the open sands, and, with a feeling of despair and misery attacking him, Oliver followed his companion to where some huge fragments of madrepore coral lay a few yards from the water's edge, affording them a place where they could hide, and, at the same time, observe what was going on out in the lagoon, where matters were growing exciting. "Better have come back and fought it out with us," said Drew, bitterly, as they saw that the blacks were straining every effort to cut off the lugger before it reached the gap in the barrier reef; while, evidently seeing the situation of affairs, those who were in the canoe outside were, like the occupants of the lugger, though from a different side, rapidly approaching the opening. "They'll cut him off before he reaches it," said Oliver, excitedly. "Can we do anything to help him?" "No, nothing, we are too far-off," said Drew, sadly. "How could he be so foolish?" "And why don't he give up the helm to one of the men? Either of them could steer; and he could throw the blacks into confusion by firing a few shots." But after a little show of excitement on board, Mr Rimmer stayed by the helm; while the two canoes, from north and south, with some twenty paddles on each side, made the blue water flash like diamonds, as they threw it up with their spoon-shaped implements, sending their canoes along at a tremendous rate. "They'll cut him off, they'll cut him off," cried Oliver, excitedly. "Oh, why don't he fire at them?" He paused breathless, watching the exciting scene of the lugger careening over, as she raced through the water. "My word, she sails well," said Drew. "Splendidly," cried Oliver. "But don't, don't talk about the boat. Look at poor Rimmer, he stands up there as if brave as a lion. I wish I hadn't said that about him, and yet it's true enough, he's running away like a cur. But it's no good, my friend, they're too much for you; they'll cut in just before you get to the opening, and be aboard of you like a swarm of wasps. Oh, Drew! it's horrible!" "And all our specimens, the work of months, gone." "Hang the specimens!" cried Oliver. "I'd give a hundred times as many to be on the lugger now with our guns. A few good shots, and we could save him." "Yes. Shall we fire now?" "Pooh! Shall we throw a few handfuls of sand into the water, or two or three stones? Look! there they go; they're going to drive their prows right into her, one on each side, and with their length, speed, and weight, they'll crush in her planks like a matchwood box. I can't bear, to see it. It's horrible." "I can't; but I must look," cried Drew, piteously. "Yes, we must look and see the worst," groaned Oliver. Then stamping his foot: "Why are we not there to help him?" He ceased speaking, and stood leaning forward, with his eyes just above the edge of the rock, gazing, fascinated by the scene before him. There were the four vessels all clear in the brilliant sunshine, three of them with their prows aimed straight at the fourth, which appeared to be doomed as it glided along with its sails well filled, rushing now for the opening before it, and the sea. Closer and closer the canoes on either side, gliding along, with their dark sides flecked with silver, and their black crews toiling on with wondrous exactitude, on and on with increasing speed, while the third canoe slackened, and suddenly was thrown right across the opening, as if to block the gateway leading to freedom. On either side the huge breakers glided in softly, and then, as they reached the reef; rose, curled over, glistening with green, blue, and gold, as they hung for a moment or two on high, and then crashed down into sparkling gems, from which diamond dust seemed to rise in a soft vapoury cloud. But still the collision did not come. The distance was greater than the watchers had allowed for, and in those exciting moments time seemed to be long-drawn-out. "Now it's coming," cried Oliver, at last. "Good-bye, Rimmer, I liked you, after all. Ah!" His last ejaculation was quite a wild exciting cry, for the distance between the prows of the two canoes, and the sides of the lugger grew less and less, and then they seemed to strike and go right through her, while imagination painted her crew struggling in the water, to be pierced through and through by the spears of the savages. "Hurrah!" shouted Drew suddenly, and a film of mist which had been blurring Oliver Lane's eyes, suddenly cleared away, for though the two prows had seemed to go through the lugger, there she was still racing on for the gap, while the two canoes partly crossed behind her stern after she had dashed between them, and their occupants were curving round to go in chase, crossing and taking up their positions on either side astern. "Escaped for the moment, but it's all over," cried Oliver, "they'll take her now, she can't get away. Look, what is Rimmer going to do? Oh, it is madness." Madness or no, the mate's decision was plain enough to them now, and it was evident that he had some faith in the strength of his boat, for onward she was rushing straight for the side of the great sixty-foot long canoe which blocked the way. One minute the watchers saw her rise up on one of the rollers that came pouring through the opening, the next she was nearly lost to sight, but only to rise again upon another, being suspended in equilibrium for a few moments and then careening over, she dashed down a slope of water, right on to, and as it were, over the long narrow canoe and then off and away to sea. Oliver Lane could hardly believe it for the moment, but it was all true enough, there was the _Little Planet_ sailing away, while through the opening in the reef the great canoe floated bottom upwards, and the white foamy water was seen to be dotted with black heads, whose owners were swimming for the wreck of their vessel, or to the two canoes which approached them. "Three cheers for Rimmer," cried Drew, excitedly. "A hundred if he had played fair," said Oliver, sadly. "But there it is. You see: he _has_ left us in the lurch." "Well, yes, I suppose so. It was very plucky, though, and self-preservation is the first law of nature." "And the last exception in civilisation," said Oliver, bitterly. "Perhaps so, but I hope he'll get our specimens safe to England." "And I wish he had shown himself a better man." "No time for discussion," said Drew, quietly, as he watched the canoes. "They're picking up all their wet ones. My word, how the beggars can swim. Now, then, what have we got to do?" "Make for the cocoa-nut grove in order to be under cover, and then keep along under the trees for the brig, so as to give the alarm." "Yes, they won't be long, I suppose, before they come ashore. Will you lead, or shall I?" "Go on," said Oliver. "Better crawl right on your breast, or we shall be seen." "As we most likely shall be, whether or no." "Never mind, off!" Drew dropped flat upon the sand, and, dragging his gun after him, began to crawl as fast as he could towards the cocoa-nut grove where the boat was hidden, and fortunately the distance was only short, for the sun beat down with tremendous force and the glistening coral sand was already growing very hot. "I was never meant for a snake," said Drew, as he painfully dragged himself along. "Ugh, you little wretch!" he cried, and thrusting forward his gun, he passed the muzzle under a little short thick viper, which lay basking just in his way, sent it flying, pitchfork fashion. "Poisonous," said Oliver, who noted where the flat, spade headed little serpent fell. "Looks wonderfully like an asp, such as they have in Egypt. Go on faster." "Can't," grumbled Drew, but he did exert himself, and soon after rose with a sigh of relief, well hidden by the grove of trees. "No, no," cried Oliver. "Never mind the canoes. Rimmer's all right now. Why, Drew!" "Yes?" "Smith must have been in the lugger and gone off with him." "Smith?" "Yes, he took down the guns and ammunition. We've lost our best man." They had plenty of opportunity now for keeping under cover, the trees having rapidly sent out young shoots along the edge of the forest where they could, since the passing of the earthquake wave, enjoy plenty of sunshine, and hurrying forward, the pair were not long in catching sight of the masts of the brig. "Keep up," said Oliver suddenly, for soon after they had reached to within sight of home Drew had suddenly stopped short. "What's the matter?" "Don't you see?" was the answer. "Quick, keep well under cover." "What for?" "Look at the mainmast! There's a danger signal flying." "Then they have caught sight of the blacks coming on in the distance, and it is a warning to us to look sharp." "It's a warning to us to keep off," cried Drew, excitedly; "and there goes another." Oliver started, and his heart sank, for he saw that at which his companion pointed--a puff of white smoke fired from the foretop, and directly after there was a dull report. "Look! look!" he too cried, now excitedly, as he pointed between the leaves, for, not half a mile away, and pretty close to the brig, black figures were visible, first two or three, then more and more. "Got here before us," said Drew in a despairing tone. "No, some more of the black scoundrels must have landed on the other side of the island." _ |
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