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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 44. How Matters Got To The Worst |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY FOUR. HOW MATTERS GOT TO THE WORST It took Mark some minutes to get rid of the confused, half-stupefied sensation that remains after a very deep sleep when the sleeper is suddenly awakened; but as his head cleared he found himself threading his way among the rocks behind his father and crossing the lower part of the arm which separated Crater Bay from the lagoon. Once the highest part was cleared and they were descending toward the black waters the captain caught his son's arm. "You may speak now in a whisper," he said. "The rocks are between us and the Malays." "Have they come then, father?" "Yes; Morgan heard them come stealing along the lagoon in the darkest part of the night, and they are lying less than a quarter of a mile away." "Do they know we are here?" "I hope not, my boy; but when daylight comes they are sure to come over into the bay, and--" He stopped short, for a vivid light flashed out, and for a moment Mark could see the black bay, the wreck, the little cutter-like vessel lying by her, and a group of people down below them at the water's edge. "Lightning?" said Mark. "No; it is from the mountain." As he spoke there was a dull vibration and a low rumbling sound, as if some heavy body had passed heavily beneath their feet. "What are we going to do?" asked Mark eagerly. "Escape if we can," said the captain. "We cannot take the ladies inland. The jungle about here is impassable." "Then you are going to steal away?" "Yes, my lad, if we can get aboard. We ought to have got the boat across last night, Mark, instead of leaving it till now." "Are they going to get it across the point now?" "Yes," replied the captain; and at that moment they were joined by Gregory, Morgan, Small, and the major. "Ready?" said the captain. "Yes," replied Gregory. "Come along, my lads." Three men came up and stood waiting for orders, and the major joined the captain. "You understand," said the captain, "there must not be a sound. If there is, we are lost." "I understand," said Gregory gruffly. "Have you got everything out?" "Everything. She's light enough now." "Come, major, then," said the captain. "You must be guard, Mark. Go with the major, and help to take care of the ladies. No, stop. Perhaps you can help me pick out the best route for the boat, but mind only one person has to speak, and that is I. Get rid of that dog." Mark hesitated for a moment, and then laying hold of Bruff's ears, the dog followed him eagerly to where the ladies stood together shivering with anxiety in the darkness. "Keep Bruff with you, mother," he whispered; and then, after a stern order to the dog to lie down, he hurried back over the black sand, and found the little party threading its way among the rocks and over the ridge to reach the spot where the gig lay drawn out of the water of the lagoon. They all halted for a few moments as Mark joined them, and just then a vivid glare of light shone out, showing them plainly the hulls of three long low boats lying out in the lagoon, whose waters quivered, and looked for the moment as if of molten steel. Then all was pitchy darkness, and through it came the sound of voices. "They have seen us," said Morgan excitedly. "No," said Captain Strong, "we were in the shadow. Now, then, three on each side. I'll lead. Slowly does it. Mark, my boy, go to the stern; you may keep it from touching the rock. Every pound of help will be worth something now." Mark eagerly went as directed, and the next minute, with three strong men on either side, the gig was lifted up, and borne softly forward almost without a sound, the party listening intently to the loud jabbering going on aboard the praus. The task was fairly easy at first, for it was for some distance over the nearly level sand that the gig was carried, but soon rocks began to crop up in their path, and in spite of the care exercised the keel of the boat suddenly grated loudly upon a projecting piece of stone; an effort was made to slew her round slightly to avoid it, and this caused Mr Gregory to catch his foot on another block of stone, and nearly fall. The captain uttered a loud "Hist!" and all stood fast, with beating hearts, for a loud voice spoke in Malay, and the jabbering on board the boats ceased, as if all were listening to try and make out what the unusual noise was ashore. Just at this moment there was another vivid flash from the mountain, and the praus could be plainly seen, while now the little party by the boat realised how thoroughly they were in the shadow of the black rocks. "If there is a blaze like that when we are on the top of the ridge," whispered the captain, "we shall be seen." Not another word was spoken, and for quite a quarter of an hour there was an ominous silence as they all waited for the talking to begin again on board the vessels. But there was not a sound, and it was evident that the crews were listening, when suddenly Morgan laid his hand upon the captain's arm, and pointed in the direction of the lagoon about half-way between them and the praus. Every one grasped the meaning, and a chill of dread ran through Mark, in whose mind's eye wavy krisses were flashed and razor-edged spears darted, for there, plainly enough, as shown by the flashing and undulating of the luminous creatures of the water, which they knew so well, two men were swimming ashore, to see what was the cause of the noise. "It means fighting," said the captain. "Why not leave the boat, father, and get aboard the cutter at once?" "How?" said the captain coldly. "Wade through water five hundred feet deep?" Mark felt as if he could have bitten off his tongue, and then his heart seemed to stand still, for there suddenly arose a shriek from the lagoon--a shriek that was terrible in its agonising intensity; there was the sound of splashing, and the water became ablaze with a beautiful lambent phosphorescent light, while there was an outburst of yelling and shouting on board the praus, accompanied by tremendous splashing, as if the water was being beaten with the oars. "Quick! All together!" said the captain hoarsely. "Now, forward!" The men were so paralysed with horror as they each for himself pictured the fearful scene of two Malay sailors swimming ashore, and being attacked by the sharks, that for a few moments no one stirred. Then with the hubbub and splashing increasing, and the water being, as it were, churned up into liquid fire, the sides of the boat were seized, and it was borne over and among the rocks to the very ridge, and then, with a feeling of relief that it is impossible to describe, down lower and lower, with the sounds dying out; while Mark, who was last, felt that if the horror had been continued much longer, it would have been greater than he could have borne, and he must have stopped his ears and run. "I don't think they can hear us now," said the captain. "Hah!" There was a tremendous flash, accompanied by a deafening roar from the mountain, and the whole of the bay, with its overhanging blackened rocks, were for a few moments illumined by the quivering light, so that everything was as distinct as if it were noon. Then all was pitchy blackness again, and the thunderous roar died slowly away, as the thunder mutters into silence in a storm. "That was a narrow escape from being seen," said the captain, cheerily. "Two minutes sooner, and we should have been in full view. All together, the ground is getting clearer now." "If we might only give one good hooray, Mr Mark, sir," said a familiar voice, "it would seem to do us good;" and the lad realised that it was Billy Widgeon who had been working all along close to his elbow. Mark felt with the man, for in his own breast there was an intense desire to cry out or shout, or give some vent to the pent-up excitement. But there was plenty to take up their attention, for the captain, now that the ridge was between them and their enemies, hastened their steps, in spite of the blackness, so that, after a few slips, and a narrow escape of breaking in the bows of the boat through a sudden fall upon an awkwardly-placed rock, she was safely run down to the edge of the crater, and the oars, mast, and sail replaced. The next proceeding was to get the ladies on board the little cutter, which lay some twenty fathoms from the sands, and in darkness and silence they were handed into the gig, and were half-way to the little vessel, when, without warning, a vivid light flashed out from the mountain, and the oars ceased to dip. But this was no lightning-like flash, but a continuous glow, which lit up jungle, rock, and the black waters of the bay, while every eye was turned in the direction of the ridge in expectation of seeing the praus plainly standing out in the glare. Fortunately, the ridge was sufficiently high to conceal the occupants of the boat, and in place of the light proving their betrayal, it aided the embarkation, the boat going on at the end of the next few minutes, and all climbing safely on board. Then the gig was secured by a rope astern, and there was nothing now to be done but wait till daylight, and then trust to being able to escape by running southward along the lagoon before the praus could get round the northern arm of the little bay. "Look at that," cried Billy Widgeon suddenly, as the light flashed out as quickly as it had appeared, the glowing scene changing instantaneously to the most intense darkness, while now a peculiar odour began to pervade the air, a suffocating hot puff coming from the land, charged with sulphurous vapours. Everything was ready for a start, but there was one thing needful, light, for the risk was too great to attempt to get round the southern point in the darkness. It was dangerous with the gig, but they had learned the positions of the rocks by heart, and could come round now with ease. With a boat drawing so much water, however, as the cutter, it was different, and the course necessary so intricate, that, tremendously in their favour as a start would now be, the captain dared not run the risk. "It's death to stay," said Gregory, as they stood in a group waiting for day. "It's death to go," said the captain gloomily. "One touch on a sharp rock, and we shall fill, or be fast." "Well, Strong," said the major, "I don't like to interfere in your navigating matters, but in this case, as a soldier, I say if we are to die, let's die like Englishmen trying our best." "We are trying our best, Major O'Halloran," said the captain coldly. "Yes, my dear fellow; but for Heaven's sake let's start." "What should you do, Mark?" said the captain, laying his hand on his son's shoulder. Mark was silent for a moment or two, and then said huskily: "I don't like going against your opinion, father, but I should start now." "In the darkness?" "Yes. It seems to be our only chance." The captain made no verbal reply, but took out his knife, and stepping to where the rope passed out from the stern, mooring them to a crag of rock that seemed to rise from unfathomable depths, he divided the strands, and the rope fell with a splash in the water. Then, going to the bows, where the other rope ran to one of the timbers of the _Petrel_, he cut that, and there was another splash. Then giving his orders, a couple of the men passed sweeps over the side with the greatest of care, and the head of the cutter began to turn, and she was moving slowly toward the mouth of the bay when once more the intense darkness was cut as by a knife, and the little vessel seemed to be destined to have a light as clear almost as day for making her way round into the lagoon, where she could catch the wind and escape. _ |
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