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Mother Carey's Chicken: Her Voyage to the Unknown Isle, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 42. How They Struggled To Crater Bay |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY TWO. HOW THEY STRUGGLED TO CRATER BAY The stowaway's news fell like a thunderbolt, and Mark felt a curious chilling sensation come over him, as he tried to keep it from his mother and Mrs O'Halloran. But the latter was quick at seeing there was something wrong, and she stopped and asked what it was, and wrung it unwillingly from the lad. "That's bad," she said quietly. "What do you propose doing?" Mark stared at her in surprise to see how calmly she took the announcement of what might mean destruction, certainly a temporary separation from their friends. "One of us must go back," said Mark, "and try to meet them that way. I will go." "No," said Mrs O'Halloran; "the force is so small it cannot be divided. They may not be coming back that way; and if they do, we must hope and pray that they will be keeping a sharp look-out." "But they may come right back to the camp and find the Malays in possession." "If they are in possession," said Mrs O'Halloran, "it would be impossible for you to get along by them to give our party warning." "Do you think I could get round at the back through the jungle?" said Mark, addressing Jimpny. "No," said the latter. "I've tried it lots of times. You couldn't get a quarter of a mile through the woods in a day. There's no getting in till you come to the little river." "And that is past the camp," said Mark sadly. "Ah!" The ladies clung together, for at that moment they realised a sensation as if some monstrous roller were running slowly along beneath the sands and the roots of the trees. The ground heaved like a wave of the sea, the cocoa-nut trees rocked and bent their heads together just as the ears of corn do when a breeze sweeps over a field, and then all was still once more, save that a low muttering sound as of thunder ran along over their heads, leaving them all giddy, and feeling as if the qualms of sea-sickness were coming on. They were to a certain extent familiar with such phenomena, and the minute it was over the dread it caused was swallowed up by that which was pursuing them, for a glance through the tree-trunks showed that the Malays were still coming on. Mark hesitated for a moment or two, and then feeling that Mrs O'Halloran's prompt soldierly advice was for the best, he accepted it, and led the way. Their march grew more toilsome as they kept on, the sand appearing to become looser and drifted up in waves among the cocoa-nut palms, while the presence of these was alone sufficient to keep them at work threading their way in and out till the peculiar growth came to an end; and they were stayed by the thick jungle. Their only way of progression now was by the sands, where the walking would be easy in the extreme by comparison, for wherever the tide rose and retired the sand was either level and firm or slightly rippled by the sinking wave. But to go along here was to place themselves in full view of the praus, and Mark felt that they would certainly be seen. There was nothing to be done then but risk it or wait till night, while to hide till then might mean destruction to the party round at Crater Bay. "Yes," said the major's wife, "we must risk it;" and Mark stepped boldly out, gazing anxiously back at the three praus. They had no means of telling whether they were seen or no; all they could make out was that the praus were coming steadily along, sometimes sailing, at others, when the wind dropped, being urged forward with long oars. The heat grew more painful as the fugitives kept steadily on, unable to select the best road on account of the necessity for keeping close in to the trees: but at last, worn out and exhausted, after leaving the sheltering rocks where Mark had rested during the storm, far behind, they came in sight of one of the points or angles of the island, where the land trended round to the north-west, and once past this the way would be out of sight of the praus. With this to inspire them they all exerted themselves to the utmost, and reaching the rocks that ran out seaward they struggled by them, for the dog to lie down panting, and the monkey to display his distress by hurrying to a tree and eagerly picking some of its harsh sour fruit. It was an example to be followed, though the party did not dare to rest, but gladly partook of some of the food Mrs O'Halloran's foresight had provided, and this and the firm sand they were now enabled to choose for their road, joined to the knowledge that they were screened from the enemies' view, gave strength to their efforts as they ate and walked on. At the end of a mile they reached water--clear, cold, bubbling water-- refreshed by which they pressed on quite cheerfully till they had passed another of the points of land and found double shelter from their enemies' gaze. By this time a strange alteration had taken place in the weather. The sun, which had been shining brilliantly, now gradually changed in appearance till it grew copper-coloured; then its light came through a thick haze, which gradually darkened, and they were screened from the burning rays by a black cloud, which grew more and more dense, and seemed to float only a few hundred yards above their heads. "A bad storm coming," said Mark, "but it may not break till we get to the bay." Judging from appearances, however, it was likely to pour out its waters upon them at any moment; while, to add to their excitement, from over the jungle there were deep thunderous noises as if the storm were raging right in the interior. The journey seemed interminable, but in spite of the thunder and coming darkness they toiled on, keeping a sharp look-out over the lagoon lest those they sought should have been in the gloom. By degrees, though, the obscurity grew less, and seemed to be slowly floating in the direction of the praus. Once there was the wave-like motion of the earth again, making them catch at each other to keep themselves from falling, and then the sun appeared, growing momentarily more bright as it passed out from behind the dense black cloud which was gathered about the mountain, rolling along its flanks as they came to an opening in the jungle, and then appearing to circle slowly round and round. The hours crept by as they toiled on exerting themselves to the utmost, for one of the dreads that oppressed them, now that they were out of sight of the praus, was that they would not get to Crater Bay before their friends started to go round the other way, though, saving on their own account, there was a certain hopefulness about their position, since the last they had seen of the praus showed them that they were coming their way, and therefore they might not see the gig and its occupants after all. There was no fear of the captain passing the fugitives now, for as evening approached the lagoon was perfectly clear and the sky of a dazzling blue, but there seemed to be no end to the weary tramp over the hot sands, and at last Mary looked so exhausted that they were obliged to take shelter under a tree at the edge of the jungle. "How much farther is it, Mark?" said Mrs Strong. "About six miles," he replied. "Look here, Jimpny, we must wait here now. You go on and warn my father, and they'll come back with the boat." "I shall be better soon," said Mary; but there was such a look of exhaustion in her eyes that Mark knew she would not be able to proceed, and he signed to the man to go on. The stowaway looked at him blankly, and he repeated his orders. "Yes, I see," said the man, staring stupidly, as if he were in a dream; and starting off, he went on a dozen yards, and then reeled, threw up his arms, and fell heavily. Mark was at his side in an instant to find that the poor fellow was perfectly insensible, his face blackened with the heat, and his breath coming heavily and in gasps. "Over exertion," said Mrs O'Halloran as she hurried up. "The poor fellow was done up before we started." "Will--will he die?" faltered Mark. "No, no," said the major's wife, "I've often seen men fall out of the ranks exhausted like this by hot marches in India." "But what is to be done?" "Help me," said Mrs O'Halloran. "That's it, get your arm well under his, close to the shoulder. Now together." Mark followed her instructions, and together they dragged the poor fellow over the sand, in spite of their exhaustion, right up under the trees, and then let him sink down in the shade. "Now, Mark, you go on and get help," said Mrs O'Halloran. "And the Malays?" he said. "They will not see us hidden here among the trees. They will pass us if they come. Make use of your landmarks, so as to find us, and Heaven give you good fortune, my dear boy!" "No, no," cried Mark. "I cannot leave you all like this." "It is to help us," said his mother. "Mrs O'Halloran is right. You see we can get no farther." Mark saw that his duty lay in fetching help, and after a sharp look-out in the direction from which danger was expected, and another at the salient points of the shore, so as to guide him to the point where the ladies and the sick man were hidden, he forgot his own fatigue in the excitement, and leaving arms, ammunition, and everything weighty, he started off alone. It seemed as if he would never reach that ridge of black rocks which formed the eastern curve of Crater Bay, and even when it came in sight there was a nightmare-like feeling upon him that he was no nearer. Then, too, his despairing thoughts would keep getting the mastery, and asking him what he was going to do when he reached the bay and found that there was nothing visible but the charred hull of the ship, and that his friends were gone. At last, though, he could feel that he was nearing the black ridge; the sand began to change from its yellow and white coral look, and became dashed with black. Then it grew blacker, and at last the grains were all jetty in colour, and there was the great black pile of basaltic rock, with its columns and steps rising higher and higher, and the question ever present: Were his father and the rest all behind there busy over the little smack they had built lying now in the safe anchorage of the bay? He could bear it no longer, and drawing a long breath, he started to run, though it was only a feeble trot, till the rocks rose up steeply, and he was compelled to climb slowly and painfully with many a slip, but always urged by the sensation that if he did not use every effort he would be too late. He had climbed that ridge dozens of times. He knew the easiest way; but now its difficulties were terrible, and in his heated exhausted condition he could hardly drag himself up over the last steep block. The nightmare-like sensation grew more painful, and he felt that he must give way, but that dread of being too late spurred him on till he was on the very summit, where he sank down with a groan of despair, for there, hundreds of yards from where he lay, right on the other side of the western arm of the black crater, was the boat with a white sail spread, skimming along so rapidly that in another few moments it was hidden from his longing eyes. He raised himself upon his hands, his eyes staring wildly, his lips parting to give utterance to a hoarse cry, but so feeble, that it was like the querulous wail of a sea-gull, and as his cry was lost in the immensity around, the boat glided onward and was gone, leaving him with his spirit as dark as the waters at his feet where they filled up the crater that lay between him and the help he had come to seek. _ |
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