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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 43. How Hope Revived Like A Sunshine Gleam |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY THREE. HOW HOPE REVIVED LIKE A SUNSHINE GLEAM "What shall I do? what shall I do?" groaned Mark, as he stared at the black ridge which ran down to the sea on the other side of the bay. Then he looked down at the carefully-moored little vessel that lay near the old charred and well-stripped hull, and lastly with a sigh at the cloud-draped mountain high up to his left, beyond the head of the little black-beached bay. Wearied out, parched with thirst, and with his throat seeming to be half-closed up, he tried to give another hail, and then, knowing that his feeble voice would not travel across the bay, he descended slowly from step to step, from rift to rift. Sometimes he missed his footing, and slipped or rolled down; sometimes he lay for a few moments too much exhausted to attempt to rise, till the thought of those who were awaiting his return came back to him reproachfully, and struggling to his feet once more he continued his descent, gazing anxiously now before him in search of the praus, but the calm horizon, illumined by the setting sun, showed no sign of enemy, and he continued his descent and reached the sands. "I must get back to them before it's dark," he said to himself; and this thought spurred him on to new efforts. "What a coward I am," he said aloud, "to be damped at such a trouble as this! They will take care that the Malays don't touch them, and we can get round to them in the morning." Some insane idea of getting on board the little vessel that lay in Crater Bay came into his mind for the moment, but with only David Jimpny for helpmate he felt that such an attempt would be useless, and gave it up. He walked as fast as he could, but the pace was slow, and his feet felt heavy in the deep sand, which was once more growing white, and as he trudged on, wondering how soon he could get back to where his friends were waiting, and whether he would be able to make out the spot in the dark, the thought occurred to him that he would be able to guide his steps easily enough by means of the luminous rim of the sea, and make his presence known by uttering a low call from time to time, when his heart gave a tremendous bound, and he stopped as if petrified. "Mark! Ahoy!" There it was again, and turning, trembling in every limb, it was to see Morgan on the top ridge of the black rocks between him and the bay, distinctly seen against the sky-line, while directly after another figure appeared--that of his father. He took off and waved his cap, for he could not speak, and then, suffocating with emotion, overcome by exhaustion, he reeled and sank half insensible upon the sands, but only to struggle up once more, and try to retrace his steps toward the black rocks. He was in a kind of dream for the next few minutes--a dream in which sea, rocks, sand, and trees were slowly gliding round him. Then he was aroused by a pair of strong arms catching him by the shoulders, and a familiar voice crying: "Why, Mark, my lad, what's all this?" He could not speak, only stare, and as he looked in the second-mate's face another voice rang in his ears: "He is overcome with walking in the heat. Hail the lads, Morgan, and we'll have him carried to the boat. Why, Mark, my boy, how foolish of you to come--and on such a day! Here, drink." The captain held a flask of cool fresh water to his lips, and as he drank with avidity the reviving liquid seemed to give clearness to his brain, and the troubles there came back to mind. "Let me help you toward the bay, my boy," said the captain. "There, your trouble's over now. We'll give you a ride back." "No, no! Stop here. Listen, father," panted the lad; and then in agitated tones he told of their position, and of those who were waiting for succour among the trees. The captain started and looked at his son half doubtingly, and as if he believed that this was some hallucination; but just then he raised his eye, and there, faintly seen in the evening haze, was the long low form of a prau just coming out from the projecting land. "Hah!" he ejaculated, "we have left it too long. Morgan, go and take command, and send here the major, Small, and two men. We must help them to the bay. No; they are wearied out now, and there is a sick man. Let the major and you get the boat round as quickly as you can. Follow us along the shore--but you are too tired, Mark." "No, father; I'm better now. I felt so miserable at seeing you go-- that's what made me seem ill." "Luckily Small caught sight of you as we were rounding the corner there, and we put back directly. But you are not strong enough to go. Turn back with Morgan and come on in the boat." "I must go with you, father," said Mark desperately, "or you cannot find the place where they are hidden." "True," said the captain. "There, lean on me. Quick as you can, Morgan." The mate hurried back to where two or three more figures were visible now on the fast darkening ridge, while the black and purple clouds about the mountain peak seemed to grow richer in colour and to tremble as if there was a hidden light within. But father and son gave but a glance at this, so anxious were they to reach the spot where the ladies were awaiting help. The forms of two praus were now visible for a few moments and then they faded out, and the darkness came down as if poured out of the heavens upon the sands--a thick transparent darkness through which the stars seemed to peer and light up the sea on their left. They had gone quite half-way before the regular rhythmical beat of oars, and the splash and rattle of water beneath the gig's bows were heard. Soon after the boat was abreast of them, the waves showing up luminously as the oars dipped. "Now, Mark, go aboard," said the captain. "You can halt when you think we are abreast of the place, and give me a hail." "No; you want me here," replied Mark. "I'm not so tired now." The captain was so anxious that he did not press him; and after a word or two to the occupants of the boat, from which the major had sprung to join them, they went on. The walk seemed as if it would never end; but at last Mark pointed to a couple of particularly tall palm-trees. "It was about a hundred yards beyond these, father," said Mark; and as his voice was heard a sound or two came off the water, when a low angry bark was heard, and then a dull rushing sound of feet. "Bruff! Bruff!--where are they, Bruff?" The dog uttered a joyous whine as he seemed to leap upon them from out of the transparent darkness, and five minutes later the ladies' anxieties were temporarily at an end. "There is nothing to mind," the captain said as he helped them down to the boat. "The Malays will no doubt pass us by. I expect that by morning they will be many miles away. Still it is a bit of a scare." Neither Mark nor Mrs Strong made any reply; but the stowaway, who was pretty well recovered from his exhaustion, whispered to Billy Widgeon that he hoped it might be so; and then silence fell upon the boat as they rowed slowly back toward the crater, where it was the captain's intention to get the ladies on board the little vessel. But this proved to be no easy task in the darkness, and at last it was decided to make the sands their couch for the night, and then see what the day would bring forth. Mark was so utterly wearied out, that after partaking of his share of the refreshments left, he lay for a few minutes gazing at the reflections of the flickering light from the mountain cast upon the sea, and then dropped fast asleep, but only to be awakened by a sound like thunder reverberating overhead. It died away and all was silence and darkness again; and then all seemed to be nothingness as he fell into a dreamless sleep, hardly even conscious of whether a watch was kept. Mark was awakened by a hand being laid upon his mouth and a voice whispering in his ear the one word, "Hush!" It was dark still and the stars were shining, while every now and then there was a flash as of lightning followed by an intense blackness in which the pained eyes seemed to repeat the form of the flash. "What is the matter?" whispered Mark. "Don't speak, but get up and follow. The others have gone on. Above all things keep that dog from barking." "The Malays have come!" thought Mark on the instant, and as he rose he looked round; but there was nothing to be seen, and he was wondering where the danger lay as he followed his father over the black sand towards where the boat was always dragged over the low point beyond the rocks, where he had just time to catch Bruff's head and press his hands round his pointed muzzle; for from about a couple of hundred yards away there came the low muttering of voices, followed by a yawn, and by Bruff with a low muttering growl. _ |
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