Grenville came running across the rock-strewn terrace as if guided by superinstinct. He fancied a sound like a heavy splash arose from the base of the shadowy wall, and momentarily sickened to the bottom of his soul with the thought that Elaine had fallen over.
He saw her darting towards him a moment later, however, and caught her protectingly in his arms as she stumbled on a rock and plunged headlong against his breast.
She instantly regained her foothold and clung to his arm, brokenly stammering her story and facing back the way she had come to show where the loathsome apparition had appeared above the brink.
Sidney hastened there at once, armed only with a stone. Elaine, in a violent tremble, stood a few feet only away, having followed in unabated dread.
Not another sound could Grenville detect as he leaned above the precipitous plunge attempting to pierce through the shadows and gloom, as he watched for some movement below. Whether the man had fallen backward from the lip, to go hurtling down through the darkness, or whether he had accomplished some swift and silent retreat, Sidney had no means of ascertaining. Only the ceaseless lap of the tide made a whisper in the air.
He arose and returned to Elaine.
"I had no idea the cliff was scalable," he told her, quietly. "I doubt if that means of spying will be attempted again—— It was a beastly way of showing their intentions towards us, but I'm glad to know what to expect."
"Where has he gone?" Elaine faintly chattered. "If he should only be waiting to come again—— Such a horrible fright—— I don't know why I didn't faint, or what I did. I'm so weak I can hardly walk."
"Oh, you're as right a trivet!" said Grenville, with a ready comprehension of the need of keeping up her courage. "You can now retire with a comforting sense of having saved the night."
But Elaine's sense of comfort was a woefully negative quantity. She was shaken to the center of her nerves. She dreaded to be left for a moment.
Grenville, however, sent her off to bed in the most peremptory manner. A realizing sense that their trials had only well begun was his one deeply settled conviction.
"Cheer up!" he said to her, finally, "the worst is still to come."
"I'll try," she answered, courageously. "But please don't let it come to-night."
For more than two hours she did not sleep, or even close her eyes. Then she dragged her couch to a space outside her door. Every movement made by Grenville, as he watchfully policed the edge of the terrace, she thus followed for a time, half rising beneath her tiger-skin rug in her dread to hear him go.
When she finally slept she dreamed once more of the murderous eyes, the clenched white teeth, and the flame-shaped blade she had seen at the brink of the cliff. Grenville heard her laboredly call his name as in her dreams she once more underwent her disturbing ordeal, but he did not move from his seat.
At dawn she was slumbering more peacefully, a smile on her lips as she lay there facing his position. What a royal little princess of the island she appeared with her colorful robe lying out upon the rocks, her hair so much more golden than the tawny hide, and the warm, healthy glow restored once more to her cheeks!
Grenville was sure he had never half appreciated the wonder and abundance of her hair, the darker penciling of her arching brows, the delicate beauty of her features.
He presently once more bent his attention on the island that rendered up never a sign.
Neither the jungle, the summits of the further hills, nor the sea that stretched interminably about them enlightened his searching eyes. Save for that night experience, it might have seemed preposterous that enemies existed in the miniature world by which they were surrounded.
He crept in his cautious manner to the crumbling edge where Elaine had seen the face. There was nothing below in the water. He could readily follow the bits of shelf and succession of pits in the wall, however, whereby a daring, barefooted native might grope his way to the summit, even in the dark. It would doubtless be possible here, he reflected, to explode a bomb against the pitted surface and break away so large a cavity as to render all future ascents impossible. But this was a task to be deferred for a time, since he had no wish to acquaint the visitors oversoon with the fact that he possessed an explosive.
When he returned to the shelter again, Elaine had waked and carried her couch to the cave. Despite the fact the hour was early and the sun only well above the ocean's rim, she declared she had rested much longer than was either wise or essential.
Yet there was nothing to do for either, now that the day was begun. Their breakfast of fruits was soon concluded, then of occupation there was none. Grenville felt it inadvisable to move about too freely on the terrace, and thereby risk betraying the fact they were only two in number. A watcher stationed on the second hill could not, as a matter of fact, examine the entire top of the terrace, or even discern its principal features, but he might ascertain decidedly too much, should they carelessly expose themselves to view.
The morning proved for Grenville another exasperation. He thought of nothing by way of labor he could advantageously perform. Their defense, though crude, was fairly complete, and could scarcely be improved. To watch the edge of the jungle, hour after hour, where never a sign was vouchsafed his vigilance, was a dulling inactivity, yet a highly essential precaution that was not to be neglected.
By noon he was fairly in a mood to seek out the island's invaders alone, to hasten some definite action. That the natives intended to starve them into a visit to the spring seemed all too obvious. Grenville felt assured, however, the water down in the cavern would suffice for their needs, if no better could be relied upon, when once their jars were empty, while gathering fruit would not be wholly impossible under cover of the night.
With the thought in mind that only the trail would be kept under watch by the Dyaks, he made up his mind he could readily contrive a ladder-like platform to extend from the brink, whereby the distance to the nearest tree might be conveniently bridged to permit easy access to the jungle. Of creepers and extra bamboo poles he had laid in ample stock. For the lack of better employment, he began the construction of his bridge when their meager luncheon had been finished.
His mind, as he worked, spun schemes innumerable for the daily defeat of the natives. Aware that as long as the terrace could be held starvation and thirst would be their only unconquerable enemies, he entertained no end of plans for catching fish without bait and even trapping or fishing up small animals that might rove at night below the cliff. From these reflections he returned to the men who prowled about them after dark.
To secure his cord across the trail and thereby provide an alarm, or notice of the enemy's approach, from that direction, was a very simple matter. When he finally invented, in his mind, a singular "rattle" to guard the approach by the cliff, he dropped all employment on the bridge at once and began forthwith on the other.
What he made was a series of bamboo buckets, or cuplike sections of the hollow tube, with stones suspended inside to knock against the walls when the things were lightly shaken. These he intended to hang, one beside another, in a line from the brink of the wall, where a climber must strike them unawares and sound a resonant warning.
But he found, on hanging a pair some ten feet down along the face, where the man had climbed in the night, that the wind would sway them to and fro against the rock and constantly ring their hollow tones.
This defect he presently remedied by forming a frame, some ten feet long and one foot wide, in which all his cups were suspended, or moored, both top and bottom. They were thus so lightly hung that the smallest jar against the frame would joggle them all to musical utterance, while the wind could have no effect on any single one.
The entire frame was lowered down till it rested a bit unevenly on two projecting shelves of rock, where it leaned a trifle outward like a picture on a wall, as the creepers that held it from falling were finally made secure. When Grenville, by way of a trial, nudged it once with a pole thrust down against it for the purpose, it rattled out a decisive alarm that one could have heard from the trail.
Grenville thereupon brought out a bomb from his store and lowered it down below the frame, and six or eight feet to the side. This was secured not only by the fuse, but likewise by more of the creeper.
Elaine, who during his absence had maintained the watch of the trail, now ran to the place, at Grenville's signal, for a moment's inspection of the whole arrangement and instruction concerning its use.
It was while they were there that the haunting wail arose for a gasping spasm. It had practically failed. Sidney doubted if its loudest note could have been heard as far as the spring. But still the end of the tiresome day developed no attack.
Grenville was completely puzzled by the tactics the boatmen had adopted. That they knew Elaine was present on the terrace there could be not a shadow of doubt. Even if the man she had thrust away from the cliff-edge fell to the sea and was dashed to pieces, or drowned, his friends who had brought him around to the place must have heard her voice and recognized its feminine quality.
They would likewise know she could hardly be alone, and would guess her companions were not numerous or likely to be armed. No plundered wreckage lay about the shore from which castaways could have drawn ammunition or rifles. It was utterly impossible for any ignorant natives to imagine the loading of a cannon or the making of bombs from materials on the place.
What, then, was the reason of their long delay? They could scarcely be waiting for reinforcements. They would hardly be dreading the island's "spirit" now, since the sounds had practically ceased, and one man had dared ascend the cliff with a knife between his teeth. That they feared an open attack by day and dreaded the tiger by night was the only tenable theory that Grenville could devise.
Yet the fact of the matter was that, until the cavern "spirit" should be absolutely silenced, the superstitious Dyaks could only be forced by the bulldozing threats and ferocity of their fiendish leader to set foot upon the land. It was he who had sent the climber up the wall, having thrust a pistol behind the fellow's ear. A certain tragic outcome of this premature adventure had been wholly attributed by the victim's companions to the anger of the wailing soul who inhabited the headland.
The bridge, constructed of bamboo supports, was a simple affair, completed and ready by sunset. Before the darkness was absolute, Grenville conveyed it along to the eastern jutting of the cliff, slid it down to a ledge below the level of the terrace, and easily thrust the end across to the nearest tree, where it rested securely on the branches.
He found that it bore his weight remarkably well. With an ordinary length of pliable ladder he could reach the ground beneath the tree without the slightest difficulty, thereby escaping all the undergrowth and broken rock that would render a straight descent from the brink not only a noisy piece of business, but likewise one of considerable hazard and discomfort. And descending thus, instead of employing the trail, he could certainly expect to escape the shrewdest observation on the part of any native set to watch for some night adventure.
Indeed, so alluring became the prospect of leaving the hill, to conduct some helpful and informing explorations, that he could scarcely wait for the shadows of night to settle on the island before he should test his apparatus.
Elaine was frankly and confessedly alarmed when at length he could resist the temptation no longer and announced his intentions for expending a portion of the evening.
He set an alarm at the gate on the trail, however, and, arming himself with his heavy, cleaver-like implement for chopping, instructed his worried companion to fire the cannon without delay should attack develop in his absence.
"I am sure you will have no visitors, but, in case you do, don't wait to see who it is, or how many," he said; "let the little gun count the numbers."
"But suppose—it might be you!"
"I shall not return that way. You may look for me back in fifteen or twenty minutes at the most. I feel it's important to know what is going on, as well as to gather a bit of fruit, and see what I may be enabled to do by way of setting some traps for game. If one of my snares could be brought a trifle closer, it might provide us with the meat we certainly ought to have."
Without another word, she watched him depart for his bridge and ladder to the jungle.
Despite the ease with which, in theory, he expected to descend to the ground, Grenville was fully ten minutes escaping from the tree.
A number of twigs that he could not have passed without creating a disturbance he cut away with his knife. His ladder was also badly caught and stubbornly refused to be adjusted. One violent rustling of a heavy limb he caused when it finally slipped straight down, with his feet all but striking on the ground.
He remained perfectly silent, ready for immediate retreat, regaining his breath and straining his ears for the slightest sound, for a long, uneventful minute. When he finally drew his sharp brass cleaver from his pocket and started through the thicket, there was not the slightest sound in all the region about him, either of animals or men.
Into one of the numerous wild creatures' trails he found his way with greater ease because of his thorough familiarity with all that end of the island.
The trail, as he knew, led down by the spring, where a branch wound first towards the estuary and then across the bed of the rill, where it cut the path through the axis of the island.
Almost as noiselessly as one of the creatures hunted or hunting in the hours of blackest shadow, he made his way down to the rear of the pool, where he paused as before to listen. The squeal of some little nocturnal beast and the patter of something paddling about in the water convinced him at once the Dyaks were certainly not there, or else were most skillfully hidden.
With a steadily increasing conviction that the boatmen would stick to their craft at night, he felt his boldness strengthen. The importance of discovering the enemy's position was duly impressed on his mind. He felt that once he could gain the principal pathway down the island's length he could follow the edge of a narrow bit of clearing, off to the left of the rotting old barque, and thus arrive above the inlet, where he was certain their vessel was concealed.
No less quietly than before he continued out around the spring, then turned to the left, in the narrow runway of the animals, and emerged behind the estuary, where absolute stillness prevailed.
He presently fancied, as he slowly continued towards the old-time wreck, that a murmur of distant voices arose from off at the left. This became a certainty when he reached his irregular clearing. Moreover, he was halfway only down this slope of rock and thicket when simultaneously, out on the tide, some eighty or ninety feet apart, two matches were lighted, as he could see, for pipes or cigarettes.
Elaine had been right! There were two of the boats that were anchored here together!
But, although more murmurs continued to arise, where a desultory conversation was from time to time renewed on either craft, he could by no means ascertain either the number of the Dyaks or what it was of which they talked. Satisfied with what he had discovered, and certain now the fellows were afraid to remain on the island after dark, he returned up the slope with an easier stride, determined to see what might be done by way of collecting some fruit.
He came once more to the main trail through the island, pausing to hearken once again as a sound of splashing in the inlet came uncertainly on the breeze. Doubtless the crew had dipped a pail of water, he thought, or thrown overboard some refuse from their dinner.
He had no more than headed again towards the hill where Elaine was waiting, and swung about from the branch to the principal trail, when, without the slightest warning sound, he suddenly and heavily collided with someone moving as noiselessly as himself in the opposite direction.
He only saw that the man thus encountered was bare of shoulders and taller than himself as he thrust out to fend the fellow off. He knew on the instant it was one of the boldest of the head-hunters, if not indeed their chief.
The fellow had grunted at the impact, and, quick to discover it was not a member of the vessels' crews, abruptly sounded one triumphant yell as he reached for his knife and lunged forward.
There were answering cries from a few feet only behind him—which Grenville heard as he crashed precipitately through the near-by thicket and made for the trail to the barque.
The hue and cry was instantly raised as the fellow pursuing came wildly through the jungle on his track. Shouting instructions to his following, this obvious leader of the prowling band continued as closely as possible on Grenville's heels, while the others headed swiftly towards the estuary, convinced that their man would dart around and make for his camp on the hill.
The chief of the natives entertained the same belief, as Grenville immediately comprehended. Having planned exactly as they had supposed he would, Sidney altered his course on the instant, dived down on all-fours in an animal path he had frequently followed before, and thus crept noiselessly off to the left, once more towards the plundered wreck.
Almost at once an ominous silence reigned as before in the place. The natives, having soon missed their quarry, stood perfectly still, at command of their chief, to listen and gain a new guidance.
Tempted to put all possible distance between himself and his pursuers, Grenville continued on, a bit incautiously. A branch he had thrust from before his face slipped back before he had intended its release. At once the listening head-hunters plunged forward again in his direction.
Fortunately, Sidney retained his presence of mind and continued to crawl on hands and knees, instead of attempting swifter flight through the branches that closed above the trail. With the sounds of his eager enemy approaching to a sweat-starting proximity, he dared lie perfectly motionless on the earth, till he heard them quietly exploring as before on the lines he must take to regain the terrace at the rear.
As silently now as a shadow, he wormed his way forward as before. He had gained perhaps a matter of twenty or thirty feet in this manner when, on coming at last to the edge of the clearing where the old barque lay, he heard the natives beating back, convinced that he had not passed.
For one moment only was he seized by indecision. Then he darted across the clearing unobserved and, slipping between the ribs of the wreck, as he had on a previous occasion, went rapidly groping to the cabin, where sat the mummy-skeleton in chains.
He had not achieved this maneuver in absolute silence, having sacrificed something to speed. Two of the head-hunters broke through the fringe of the thicket with furtive swiftness, as he noted through a hole in the planks. They were followed, a little further on, by the tall man first encountered, and later by a small but constantly moving companion, who disappeared again.
At a given signal two of the creatures ran swiftly about the barque, one going in either direction. They had evidently expected to corner their intended victim crouching behind the empty shell. When they presently returned to their leader, a brief consultation was held.
Grenville watched them breathlessly, aware that Elaine's position, alone on the hill, was tremendously jeopardized every moment he now remained away. Should more of the Dyaks be summoned from the boats—the time would be short for prayers.
Considerably to his relief, the three dark figures resumed the search along the edge of the clearing.
They were gone from sight for several minutes, and again returned, apparently persuaded their quarry had not escaped them back to the camp. One even ventured to approach the barque and peer through its rotted ribs.
Grenville had quietly moved aside, though the darkness would have shielded him completely. When the fellow rejoined his companions again, the chief issued new commands. A brief expostulation followed. Sidney was certain that one of two things portended. Either the leader had ordered his man to go down to the boats and compel a force to land and storm the now half-guarded hill, which the fellow argued was more than he could do with Dyaks afraid of the darkness as well as the island's spirit, or the order was—to board and search the wreck.
Either was sufficiently disquieting, as Grenville controlled his breathing and watched for the next development to follow. He presently saw the tall, bare-shouldered native strike his protesting follower a savage blow across the face, thrusting something that gleamed against the shaken creature's ear so soon as he had righted.
The craven was then ready to obey. He accepted something that Grenville could not see, doubtless another revolver, and came forward as if to enter the old ship's hull—but not through the hole in her side. Meantime, the fourth of the party had once more appeared from the growth. He apparently suggested that crews from the vessels be summoned, doubtless to attack the hill. Also he presumably volunteered to go and compel their attendance on their chief. His gestures and those of the leader, as they thus conversed in murmurs, were all towards the inlet where the boats were anchored or towards the distant hill.
He who had plainly been commanded to enter and search the wreck took advantage of the colloquy to linger with the group. It was not until the small and active demon of the lot had darted away to land more men that the chief once more turned his attention to the coward.
Whining his impotent excuses and expostulations, the fellow affrightedly climbed upon the deck and was ordered to explore the cabin. That he might be killed by the desperate white man possibly hiding in the vessel's hold, the chief was well aware. The sacrifice of a man more or less was unimportant—provided the quarry was thereby discovered in a hole where he could not escape.
This fact was fully appreciated by two other persons concerned. One of these persons was Grenville, the second the terrified native. This shivering wretch, who had known for years of the terrible guardian sitting in iron chains within, blundered noisily about in the upper quarters, so afraid he could have offered no defense to a child's attack.
Grenville was undecided as to what he were wiser to do. To sink his cleaver through the Dyak's skull would presently be comparatively simple. And, should absolutely silent death overtake this miserable slave of the man outside, the moral effect might be of value. It might be supposed by his companions he had died of fright alone. Yet Sidney argued that any fate whatsoever silencing the fellow now might be construed as proof of his own presence in the wreck.
Instantly deciding that, once they concluded he was not here, the Dyaks would leave and permit his escape, Grenville silently crept to the open door beside the dead man held in chains, slipped behind the rotted old partition, and, without a sound, replaced the door almost as he had originally found it.
The chief had meantime approached the barque, to order his man to the hold. To the musty cabin where "Buli" sat, the fellow was forced to stumble. Some report he quavered in accents of terror was not received with favor, and a new command was issued.
Grenville made ready to drop the man, should he dare push open the door. He was certain the craven had been ordered to this fatal exploration. But, instead, the whining demon lighted a match, to reveal all the contents of the place.
By the yellow light both this fellow and the leader, peering through the side, met the vacant stare of "Buli's" eyes—and both were frightened to utterance. The chief's brief note was a rigmarole of charm, to avert the evil eye. His slave's shrill performance was a scream, as the fellow reeled back, stumbling blindly away and falling as he went.
The pistol he carried was discharged. The fellow was wounded in the hip. His groans, as he dragged himself out on the deck, were drowned by the curses of the leader.
This dominant brute, having noticed the door where Sidney stood concealed, now ordered the second of his men to explore where the first had failed. As Grenville once more looked out through a ragged hole to observe the proceedings, this second fellow began a somewhat stouter objection than his predecessor had done, but was even more promptly cowed or persuaded to submission.
Meanwhile, the cries of a horde of Dyaks from the boats arose from the jungle below. They had evidently landed with considerable willingness of spirit, as Grenville was thoroughly aware. He thought of Elaine with a sudden sinking of the vitals. No sooner had the second of the natives started to mount to the deck, where number one still lay groaning, than a wild idea shot into Sidney's mind. At any cost, he must make one dash for the hill.
He quietly slipped to the cabin again, where "Buli" had long been captain and crew of the barque. The one brief glance he bestowed, through the hole, on the leader of the murderous demons, now hastening to the place, showed that ingenious savage standing perhaps a rod away and calling to the on-coming crews.
The fellow on deck was making sufficient noise to mask a fair disturbance in the cabin. Taking instant advantage of this fact, Grenville groped downward with his hands—and encountered "Buli" promptly.
"I need your services, brother," he murmured, grimly, and, finding the chain that shackled the sitting skeleton, he placed one foot upon its upper end and tore the staple entirely out of the rotten wood it pierced.
Bodily lifting the mummified thing in his arms, he hastened forward, to the hole that he alone had dared to utilize, broken through the decaying hulk, where he passed first his burden and then himself between the ancient ribs.
A cry had been sounded from within the barque. The chief of the Dyaks suddenly turned and rushed, knife in hand, upon the man he beheld escaping from the hold.
Grenville waited for him, deliberately. Just as the fellow lunged actively forward, Sidney thrust the hideous effigy of a human being into the arms and against the face of his wildly stabbing assailant and nimbly leaped towards the trail.
A sound of horror broke from the Dyak's lips as he rolled on the earth with the skeleton rattling down upon him. But a brief time only was he prostrate there with his terror. Uttering screams as shrill as a woman's and darting swiftly to meet his crew of men, who suddenly swarmed from the thicket, he headed a wild, fanatic pursuit where Grenville was speeding for the terrace.
Alone on the hill, and already strung to the highest tension of dread by Grenville's long absence, after what he had said of a prompt return, Elaine had been struck with alarm to the core of her being, as the various sounds came clearly up from the jungle about the disintegrated wreck.
It was fears for Sidney, not for herself, that had finally possessed her fluttering heart as the muffled shot and subsequent cries floated uncertainly from down there in the darkness. She knew that Grenville had no gun, and was, therefore, certain it was he who must have suffered a wound.
With a blazing torch she had run to the edge of the terrace, to light Sidney home, if, by any bare chance, he had escaped. She was there, transfixed by apprehension, when at length, with cries like a pack of wolves, the Dyaks came racing towards the clearing.
Meantime Grenville had gained a considerable lead of the devils on his heels, and, on passing the spring, had caught a glimpse of Elaine with her brand of fire. He paused for a second to shout essential directions, lest she might have forgotten in her plight.
"Don't fire, Elaine, till you see them on the trail!"
With that he darted abruptly to the left, for the animal trail that would lead him to his ladder. He had no more than gained it when, with a chorus of demoniac yells and screams of triumph, the straggling pursuers broke madly into the clearing and darted across it for the trail.
Even then, afraid that Elaine might fail to perform her allotted task, Grenville sped up his ladder like a creature of the wild, and came to the end of his platform.
The Dyaks were immediately storming the barrier, the breach of which was promptly discovered, and Sidney's alarm was jerkily resounding.
Like a spirit of maternity, nerved to any ordeal by the sense of protecting one she loved, Elaine crouched low beside the cannon, her dilated eyes intent upon the trail. She had clung to a hope that Grenville might yet appear in time to take charge of the gun. But suddenly now, to her terror, four or more figures darkly appeared on the ledge above the gate, coming swiftly towards her position.
She thrust the torch desperately down upon the fuse, saw the powder spew out a shower of sparks, and rolled and tumbled hotly from the place.
She was suddenly agonized by the thought that the thing would fail, but Grenville had barely reached the solid rock when the cannon abruptly thundered.
A wide-spreading cataract of fire was projected in a red-and-yellow cone across the space between the brink and the wall behind the trail, as the powder poured its punishment into the ranks of the creatures leaping upward to destruction. The detonation, sharp, crisp, appallingly loud in the stillness of the island, fairly stunned Elaine, now kneeling helplessly among the rocks.
Shrieks of dismay and sudden agony immediately succeeded the explosion, while its echoes still rattled wildly back from the distant hills of rock. In the utter darkness, by contrast following the one brief glare, there was nothing to be seen along the path. But wounded men were staggering downward, in blind retreat, already abandoned by their unscathed companions, in flight below the gate.
Grenville had run to his store of bombs, instead of coming straight to the gun. He meant to be prepared against a second attack. As his active figure now appeared where he hastened brinkward, watching both trail and clearing, Elaine beheld him at last. She arose and stumbled towards him, her feet still heavy with her dread, her heart wildly leaping in joy.
"Were you shot?" she cried. "Are you hurt?"
"No, right as a fiddler!" he assured her, quickly, glancing down at the shadowy path. "I only wish I could bait them again and lead the remainder to the gun!"
He charged the piece at once, having brought for the purpose a bamboo canister of powder, open and heaping at the end. This he thrust complete down the muzzle of the cannon, to be rammed home with dozens of his slugs.
Cries still arose from the jungle, more faintly, now, as the Dyaks retreated down the island. Excitement still rang in the air. Neither Grenville nor Elaine felt certain the attack would not be renewed. There was something dark that Sidney could see, crawling painfully down the incline of the trail, assisting something more inert. He purposely shielded Elaine from the sight, lest she understand too well. He much preferred that the Dyaks recover their possible slain from about the place.
Elaine was still too tensely wrought for reaction. She could hardly understand how the situation had been changed so abruptly from attack into utter rout. Her ears were still ringing from the cannon's deafening roar. She had taken no time to comprehend the results of what she had accomplished.
"How shall we know if they do come back?" she questioned, excitedly. "They probably broke the alarm."
"I'll repair it soon. Did it ring? But, of course, you couldn't have taken time to hear. Did you understand me when I shouted?"
"I heard it, horribly shaken," said Elaine. "I heard so many awful noises. I heard you call, of course. But, perhaps, I didn't wait long enough, after all. I don't seem to remember. I waited as long as I could. I hope I only frightened them away!" She sat down, overtaken at last by weakness in her limbs.
The torch she had used had fallen from her hand. It barely smoldered on the rocks. Grenville extinguished it completely, then continued to prime the cannon as before, with powder sprinkled on the vent, and a fuse laid for several feet along the ledge. He was glad to note the little piece had been securely held in place upon its log by its wrappings and the weight of heavy stones.
"I'll go down and examine the gate," he said, aware that, though the Dyaks had undoubtedly suffered severely, a still attack might yet be attempted in the dark. Therefore, leaving Elaine to recover as best she might, he was soon moving cautiously along the narrow ledge.
The night had precipitated war. That he and Elaine would be called upon to endure war's customary hazards, hardships, and horrors he was grimly ready to concede. She had made an amazingly fine beginning. It was certainly not the time for him to weaken her now by misplaced tenderness, vastly as he wished to spare her shock and trial.
The crawling objects he had seen from above had vanished beyond the solid wall he had built to shut out the tiger. All the way down to this barrier he made his way, Elaine meanwhile watching from the cliff. There were dark, irregular blotches here and there along the rocks, and on these he scraped a hiding film of dust. How much of the contents of the gun had been expended uselessly against the wall could not be determined in the dark. He felt assured a heavy toll had been collected on the trail, if not in killed, at least in wounded and, doubtless, disabled men.
The cord arranged to sound his alarm had been broken in the charge. He found the ends, repaired the damage, crept further along to scan the silent and deserted clearing, then promptly returned to secure a basket, and boldly went down to gather extra fruit.
"I wish I knew where to get some meat," he told Elaine, as he came with his plunder to the terrace. "I don't know when I shall have another hour so absolutely safe."
But beyond removing his ladder and bridge, he performed no more labor that night. It was not yet late. Elaine was too excited to retire. She sat with him, nervously listening to all the far sounds of the jungle, as he kindled their fire to a blaze.
"I wonder how long we can keep it up—go on as we are going now," she reflected aloud at last. "Mustn't they get us in the end?"
"Well—not till we've made it a fair exchange, at least."
"There must be a dozen of them about us, six or more to our one."
"There were, perhaps, an hour ago, but hardly so many now. One shot himself, down in the jungle, gunning for me, while the cannon—— But your intuition was accurate—a second boatload did arrive to join the first." He added a brief recital of what he had seen and what had taken place at the rotted barque, sparing the details which, he felt, would more alarm than assure her, respecting "Buli" and the drama played at the clearing.
"Two boatloads!" she repeated. "What reason could they possibly have for coming at last to this island? They couldn't have known we were here—at least not the first who came."
"No," said Grenville, slowly, reflecting that the time for his revelation was, perhaps, a trifle overdue, "they came, I believe, to secure the treasure in the cave."
Elaine glanced up at him quickly.
"The treasure you have joked about before?"
"It was not altogether a joke. The treasure is there—or, at least, it was, before I removed it to the passage."
"Not something actually valuable? What sort of things do you mean?"
"Gold and precious stones—a lot of heavy plunder—enough of the jewels alone to fill a hat."
Elaine slightly gasped. "And they came for that? And you have taken it out—have hidden it, rather—and you think, perhaps, they have missed it?"
"No, I hardly believe they have been to the cave as yet. It isn't theirs, the beggars! Not that it's of any account to us, but I don't feel sure if I gave it up they'd depart and leave us in peace. At any rate, I don't propose they shall have it."
Elaine was silent for a moment, and filled with wonder.
"How did you manage to find it?"
"Entirely by accident. I pulled down a stone that concealed a secret chamber, where someone had walled it in. It has doubtless been there for many generations—as these fellows have probably known."
"And suppose they find the chamber looted—may they not be all the more savage and eager to tear us to pieces?"
"Well—I should say their ambition in that respect has already about reached its limit."
Elaine could still feel her heart pounding heavily in her bosom. She returned to her original query.
"If we go on like this for a week, what then? Is there anything in the world to prevent them from waiting and waiting and waiting, till——" She did not finish her sentence, but the slightest shudder shook her frame.
"They were goaded to action to-night," said Grenville, hopefully. "They may feel sufficiently aggrieved to return for more. If not—they must be invited."
"But surely you'll not attempt such a venture as this again?"
Grenville rubbed at his jaw. "I wish it might be duplicated! No such luck is likely. But I feel very certain we'd both rather cash in fighting than to starve like rats in a trap."
"Yes," Elaine faltered, in her quiet way of courage, "but—if it has to come—let's try to—receive it here together."
Long-distance fighting began an hour after sunrise in the morning. It was rather a long-distance attack, since Grenville, armed only with the cannon, was powerless to retaliate, except at great expense of ammunition, and with questionable results.
One of the Dyaks had stationed himself on the central hill of the island with some sort of ancient rifle. He took a deliberate shot at Sidney the moment that unsuspecting thorn in their sides chanced to make an appearance on the western section of the terrace. The bullet went wide, having struck among the rocks some fifteen feet away, arousing Grenville's contempt.
Not even Elaine was greatly frightened by this overture from the enemy, whose marksman could have but a limited view of that unused section of the headland.
But the first small dart that sped lightly up from the jungle, to drop almost at Grenville's feet, was another affair altogether. He knew the thing was not only sharp, but literally soaked with poison. It had only to prick through the skin of one's hand, or even, perhaps, through the thinness of their garments, to perform its deadly function. The merest chance shot was thus extremely likely to achieve what the rifleman could not.
These hideous little messengers of agony and death were rained all morning on the terrace. They fell near the furnace for keeping fire; they dropped by the door of the shelter. A few even sped as far as the powder magazine, where Grenville found them on the rock and gravel roof.
Ample protection was afforded by remaining under cover, but this was not altogether wise or safe, except, perhaps, for Elaine. Grenville felt he must constantly watch the clearing. In the light of day his alarm could be discovered and removed, to permit an attack too sudden to be opposed.
He, therefore, constructed a bamboo shield, with which to protect his head and a part of his body, as he moved about among the rocks, or concealed himself near the cannon.
Not more than twice in all the morning did he see so much as one of the tubes—the long, slender blowguns of the hidden foe—while this silent bombardment continued. It was useless to think of slewing about his little brass piece for a shot at mere motionless jungle. It was equally impossible, he confessed, to excite the Dyaks to another charge until they should finally make up their minds a sudden assault would succeed.
He was rather surprised they had made no attempt to rush him at earliest dawn. The ledge was, however, very narrow. It afforded the one and only approach, and the dire disaster of the night before had rendered far more cowardly the set of treacherous and utterly craven murderers these boatmen undoubtedly were.
All afternoon the darts continued falling, intermittently—and Grenville made no response. His silence, indeed, was a mystery which the Dyaks not only failed to understand, but, likewise, a little dreaded. That he had no rifle they were thoroughly convinced. But that roar of his cannon they had understood, and to hear it again they had no appetite. Moreover, its deadly hail and detonation had come so unexpectedly, from the erstwhile silent terrace, that they knew not what to expect concerning the future.
Not without hopes of actually slaying some of the unknown forces on the crest of the hill, they shot an exceptional number of their darts from the nearby thicket as the sun at last declined. Grenville, having at length established what he thought to be a line of the little missiles' flight, hastily made and bound up a bomb of no more than two pounds' weight.
This, with a fuse too short for ordinary safety, he finally carried to the westward brink with one of his glowing coals of fire.
The patient rifleman, waiting on his hill, immediately blazed away, as before—and missed the entire bulk of rock. Grenville paid not even the tribute of a glance at the opposite summit, as he thrust his fuse down upon his coal.
The hiss of the powder gave him a start, so swiftly did it travel towards the bomb. With all his might he threw the thing outward at the shadowed spot whence he thought the darts were flying.
The quick, sharp bark and the patch of flame behind the design of a palm leaf, came like a clap of thunder, just before the second when the bomb would have struck on the earth.
A yell of dismay, or anguish, or both, and a scattering shower of shredded greenery supplied the only report of results that Grenville was destined to receive. The flight of darts was ended. A few hurried movements in the thicket, and a groan that Sidney felt was smothered, were the only signs vouchsafed him that the powder had not been cheaply wasted.
"It's a poor way to fight the hidden devils," he told Elaine, as he came once more to the shelter, "but it may possibly serve to keep them further away, and force them to different tactics."
It certainly had this latter effect, but not immediately.
There was no attack that night, and no disturbance in the jungle, though Sidney descended to the thicket and returned, not only with more fresh fruit he had located during the day, but also with a small wild hog he had captured in one of the older traps which the Dyaks had failed to discover.
The morning developed nothing aggressive, save the presence of the marksman on hill number two with the rifle that Grenville said would only be deadly around a corner. Some plan of patient waiting appeared to have been matured in the Dyaks' mind, since one of their boats issued forth at last from its place, to circle about the headland like a vulture atilt for prey, while down in the cover of the greenery other natives undoubtedly lurked.
They affrighted a flock of parrots here and there, from time to time, or set the timid monkeys to chattering and leaping through the upper foliage, apprising Grenville thus that the thickets were haunted below. No darts sped upward from the jungle edge, however, which, Sidney argued, might signify that the men with the deadly blow-guns possibly hoped to excite over-confidence in the keepers of the terrace, who might finally expose themselves to fewer, but more accurate, shots.
In his forced inactivity, Grenville once more waxed impatient. He felt the heat of the blazing sun, which was daily growing more intense. He chafed at the thought of doing nothing while their water supply was steadily diminishing, and the Dyaks apparently planned to subdue him by thirst or famine. He dared not risk an exposure of the door to the secret passage by going for water to the cave below, especially as all his jugs were porous and permitted the water's escape by percolation, whereas the supply in the basins below might be better preserved where it was.
A hundred useless plans for taking the war to the enemy's camp were presented to his mind, always to be promptly abandoned. He could only utilize his artillery for defense, and could not even hasten an attack. He could devise no means of ascertaining how many of the natives had either been killed or disabled. That fully ten survived, however, he felt was probable. One or two at the most was all the little cannon would be likely to rake in a charge.
Early in the afternoon there was ample evidence of exceptional activity down in the heavy jungle growth, though none of the Dyaks was seen. The movements of birds and animals, as well as the swaying of branches or trees in various thickets under the cliff, sufficiently advertised the facts.
Grenville was puzzled to understand what might be occurring, till, at length, he discovered that some of the fruit-bearing trees, on which he had counted for supplies, had been quietly denuded of their burdens, or even altogether destroyed. One large banana palm with fruit of exceptional quality, he even beheld as it toppled to the earth, where some fiendish head-hunter hacked through its fibrous trunk.
Something sank in his breast as he witnessed this atrocious vandalism, and realized his helplessness to avert the oncoming famine of himself and the girl in his charge. That the spring would be guarded, night and day, was, of course, a foregone conclusion. And not even a plan for goading the Dyaks to another attack came in working order to his brain.
That was a thoroughly disheartening day, sultry, and fraught with menace from all directions, as the Dyak craft continued to hover about upon the sea, and the pillaging continued in the thickets. All the work was, moreover, silent, grim, and ominous, with once in a while a dart spinning swiftly up from the tangle below, or, from time to time, an echoing shot coming from the opposite height with a bullet singing crazily by, or ripping along the rocks.
Sidney made no attempt to descend that night, aware of the folly of an exploration into the enemy's lines, and the utter impossibility of discovering fruit in a nearer portion of the jungle. His entire wild hog had been roasted. For, perhaps, two days the meat might keep, in the coolness of the passage to the cave.
Once more the night was uneventful, and silent. Once more came the day, and a blazing hot sun poured unveiled caloric on the summit of the terrace, where sultriness drank up the water that oozed through the substance of the jugs.
"I've got to do something," Sidney declared. "We can't go on like this." Elaine was already denying herself the food and water she required. "I shall try to invent some means of enticing the creatures to the cave below—and, perhaps, explode a mine. If the watchers on that hovering ship saw me disappear in the hole, it is rather more than likely they would follow, thinking they had me bottled."
Elaine always manifested interest, no matter what his scheme.
"But how could that possibly be managed, now that you haven't your raft?"
"I think by a ladder and platform, the ladder anchored as we had it the day I came up with your assistance, and the platform arranged of bamboo poles, which I can carry down through the passage. It will take me some time to get it ready—but something has got to be done."
Elaine's eyes brightened with hope.
"Please say there is something I can do to help," she begged. "You work so hard and constantly."
"There will be rather warm employment for us both," he assured her, in his former way of cheer, "particularly towards the end."
He brought his neglected ladder to the shelter, where Elaine was presently as busy as himself, rewinding the rungs in the creepers, and testing it all for strength. Just what his final plan would be she did not understand, but her confidence in his ability and resourcefulness was almost wholly without bounds.
The usual vigilance was not for a moment neglected, but nothing occurred in the world below, save a repetition of the former day's activity on the part of the unseen natives. It was not until well in the afternoon that the Dyaks' plan developed.
A breeze had sprung up from the north, bringing gushes of heat and jungle fragrance across the summit of the hill. Then, at length, as if this steadying wind was the final agency for which they had waited, the Dyaks set up a queer, wild chant from various places in the thicket.
A few minutes later a cloud of smoke arose from one of their centers. This was followed by several more. A huge, thick smudge was soon rising upward from the earth, and rolling on the breeze to envelop all the headland.
The Dyaks had gathered enormous quantities of resinous wood, and had deliberately fired the jungle!