The island of San Murio is not over six miles wide by twenty miles long. It is composed of two lines of hills, with a deep valley between. The hills are rocky and much broken, and there are numerous waterfalls and tiny brooks, as well as cliffs and caverns. The growth of trees and underwood is dense, and Dave and his friend had frequently all they could do to push their way along.
Both were in fine spirits, and Bob was inclined to burst into song, only Dave silenced him.
"If you sing you'll surely scare all the game away," he said. "A wild goat will hear your voice half a mile off."
"Right you are, Dave," returned Bob, "However, I can't repress my spirits when I'm ashore. It's so much better than being down in the hot and stuffy engine room of a steamship," and Bob threw down his rifle and made a handspring or two, after which he resumed his walk, feeling better.
A half-hour's journey brought them close to the top of the first series of hills, at a point opposite a small inland lake.
"Go slow now," whispered Bob. "There may be goats beyond."
They peered over the top of the hill with care, and sure enough, down at the lake shore they made out two large goats and two kids, all drinking.
"Take the one to the right, and I'll take the one to the left!" said Bob, in a low voice. "Ready? Then fire!"
Crack! bang! went the rifle and the shotgun, and both of the large goats were seen to leap up and back as though struck.
But neither was fatally wounded, and both started to run slowly around the lake shore, to the line of hills on the opposite side, with the kids following.
"Come, we had better go after 'em!" ejaculated Bob, and led the way, and Dave followed, both reloading as they ran.
It was no easy task to reach the lake front, and by that time the goats were rushing up the hills opposite.
"Fire again!" cried Dave, and blazed away, bringing his game to its knees. Bob also fired, but missed his mark. Then on they went again, over rocks and stubble and through a mass of trailing vines, to where Dave's goat had gone down. The animal was dead.
"Good for you!" cried Bob. "Now I must do as well!" and away he went again, with Dave at his heels, anxious, if possible, to add the kids to his bag.
At the top of the second line of hills the wounded goat made a sharp turn to the left.
On went the young hunters after him, never dreaming of the pitfall into which they were rushing.
They were now side by side, and Bob was on the point of blazing away at the wounded goat, in full view before him, when Dave clutched his arm.
"Back!"
"What's up?"
"Nothing's up, but we'll be down if we don't take care!"
"What do you mean?"
Before Dave could reply, Bob saw what had caused the young diver to become alarmed.
They were walking over some moss and brushwood, and the mass under their feet was shaking like so much jelly.
Both started to retreat, but it was too late! Down went the mass of brushwood, at first slowly and then swifter and swifter.
They tried to clutch at the sides of the opening, but in vain. Everything they grasped gave way—sticks, moss, stones, bushes, vines. Nothing could stop that downward course.
The moss was dry and the dust filled their eyes, almost blinding them.
"We are lost!" gasped Bob, and then the dust got into his throat and he began to cough as though choking.
In the excitement of the moment, Dave's shotgun went off, the charge passing directly between him and his companion.
After falling about twenty feet, the mass of brushwood became wedged tight for a moment, and stopped descending.
"Oh!" came from Dave. "Now we are in a pickle. How are we to get out?"
For the moment they scarcely dared to move.
Then Bob took a step forward and the young diver did the same.
Instantly the mass began to sink once more, at first slowly and then as rapidly as ever.
Down they went—thirty feet, forty, fifty, sixty—a hundred, until the top of the hole was lost to sight and they found themselves they knew not where.
Again the brushwood and moss became wedged fast. But now they did not dare to move for fear of dislodging it once more.
"We are lost!" came from the engineer. "We'll never get out of this alive!"
"Don't give up yet," answered Dave, bravely, yet his heart felt like a lump of lead in his bosom.
"Where can we be?"
"Down in a mighty deep hole."
"I know. But is this the bottom?"
"There's no telling. We might—we are going down again!"
It was true. They were again descending, but now slowly, as if the passage below was growing smaller.
"Shall we ever stop!" groaned Dave.
"It's all up with us!" came from Bob. "We won't be able—gracious! Water!"
The young engineer was right.
The mass of brushwood had reached the level of some water at the bottom of the hole.
Down they sank, into this. First up to their ankles, then to their knees, then to their waists.
"We shall be drowned!" cried Dave.
"It looks like it," gasped Bob. "Heaven save us!"
Soon the water was up to their necks and still the stuff under them continued to sink.
Were they to be drowned like rats in a trap?
"What's to do now?"
The question came from Bob Vilett.
The sinking of the brushwood had ceased, and he and Dave found themselves in water almost up to their chins, in absolute darkness.
"I'm sure I don't know, Bob," was the young diver's response. "We are in a tight box, and no mistake."
"We can't stay here forever."
"True, but if we make a move we may sink deeper than ever, and then it will be all up with us."
A dead silence of several minutes followed. Presently both of the lads grew desperate.
"We'll have to do something, that's certain," Dave began, when of a sudden the driftwood sank once more, and they found themselves struggling wildly in the black waters at the bottom of the hole.
They were soon over their heads, and now found a strong current carrying them they knew not where. They had hold of each other, but soon the force of the water wrenched them apart.
Down and down went Dave, and turned over half a dozen times.
He felt as if he must be journeying toward the center of the earth, when he reached out his hand and struck a series of smooth rocks.
He tried to hold fast, but this was impossible, and in a twinkle he turned over again, and then his feet struck on something of a sandy beach.
Hardly knowing what he was doing, he stepped forward, and then found himself clear of the water.
This set him to running, and on he went until he brought up with much force against a stone wall, and fell back partly stunned.
His feet lay in the water, but his head was on the sand, and thus he remained for fully a quarter of an hour, unable to move.
There was a strange ringing in his ears, and when he at last arose his head ached as if it would split open.
"Oh!" he groaned, and staggered up the sand to the smooth, rocky wall.
Then he fell again, and did not move until half an hour later, when his head felt somewhat better.
Where was he, and how could he save himself?
These questions were easy to ask, but no answer was at hand, and he sank down much disheartened.
Then he suddenly roused himself and called loudly:
"Bob! Bob Vilett! Where are you?"
Again and again his voice was raised, but only a dismal echo answered him.
Was his late companion dead?
It was more than likely.
The tears sprang unbidden to the young diver's eyes, but he dashed them away.
He must save himself, no matter what the cost.
He realized that he had been saved from death by drowning only because he was used to being under water a long time without taking a breath.
All divers practice this art, for possible use should anything become the matter with their diving outfits while at work.
He felt in his clothing and found his waterproof matchbox still safe.
Soon he had a tiny light, and seeing some dry driftwood at hand he set it on fire.
The blaze threw grotesque shadows on the rocky walls around him, but revealed nothing to his gaze but those same walls and the silent, underground stream flowing between them.
He was entombed alive!
Gradually this conviction forced itself upon him, causing him to shiver as if with the ague.
Again he called out the name of his late companion, and again only the dull echoes answered him.
He reckoned that he must be at least a hundred yards from the hole made by the sunken driftwood.
To get back to the hole, therefore, was out of the question.
He thought the matter over for a while, and then, taking up some driftwood for a torch, walked slowly along the sandy shore of the black stream.
Presently he came to a bend, and here found that the stream shot downward, forming an underground waterfall.
"I can't go in that direction," he reasoned. "I want to go up, not down."
The stream was less than twelve feet wide, and did not run so swiftly but what he could cross it without much danger.
Obtaining a fresh firebrand, for the first was now burnt out, he swam over to the opposite shore and began an investigation on that side.
"Hurrah!"
The exclamation escaped from his lips involuntarily.
The firebrand had dropped from his hand into the stream, leaving him in darkness.
Looking at the rocks, he had beheld a thin shaft of light striking down from some opening above.
"An opening! May it prove a way of escape!"
With a prayer for aid on his lips, Dave began to climb the rocks as best he could until he reached a hollow ten feet above the stream. Here the light was stronger, and by applying his eyes to a long, narrow slit in the rocks he made out a broad cave beyond, the further end of which was wide open to the sunlight.
But how was he to get into the cave?
The opening was not over six inches wide, too narrow for the passage of his body.
The rocks were large, weighing several hundreds of pounds apiece.
To move them would take tools, and he had nothing.
Again in a state bordering on despair, he sat down to review his situation.
At last he leaped up, and clenching his hands, cried loudly:
"I must get out! I simply must!"
The cry was an inspiration, for, getting on his knees, he felt around and found that two of the big rocks were unsteady upon their resting places.
He pulled away at the smaller stones beneath, and soon had them loosened.
He continued his labors, and presently, with a mighty crash, one of the rocks slid down into the stream, disappearing beneath the surface with a splash.
At once the light from beyond shot into the opening. He was free!
His heart gave a bound of joy, and quickly he scrambled through the hole and into the cave beyond.
This was a large affair, being at least forty feet wide and high, and several hundred feet long.
"Now, if only Bob were safe, all would be well," thought the young diver.
Without waiting to light another torch he began to move toward the outer opening of the cave.
But before he had gone half the distance he came to a halt with a cry of dismay.
The cave was crossed by another underground stream, all of twenty feet wide, and flowing onward with tremendous swiftness.
It came out from under one rocky wall and disappeared under the wall opposite.
Taking a bit of driftwood, Dave threw it into the water, and it flashed out of sight instantly.
"I can't swim across that," he thought, dismally. "To attempt it would be foolhardy."
Now what was to be done?
He examined the walls carefully.
They were perfectly smooth, thus affording hold for neither foot nor hand.
"If the stream weren't quite so wide I might jump it," he reasoned. "But I—somebody is coming!"
He was right; somebody was entering the cave from the outer end.
The newcomers were two men, one dressed in the suit of an American business man and the other in the garb of a sailor.
"We'll be alone here and can talk the matter over without fear of interruption," said one of the pair, the man in ordinary clothes.
His voice sounded strangely familiar, and Dave strained his eyes to catch a better sight of him and of his companion.
Then, astonished beyond measure, the young diver dropped out of sight behind a rock bordering the underground stream he had been trying to cross.
The newcomers were Lemuel Hankers, the man who had set sail in theRavenafter the sunken treasure, and Pete Rackley, the rascal who in Washington had accused Dave of robbing him!
"They are here for no good purpose!"
Such was the thought which crossed Dave's mind immediately after making his astonishing discovery.
As much as he wished to be saved from his present direful situation, he resolved to keep his presence a secret.
These men were his enemies, and by instinct he felt that Pete Rackley must be Lemuel Hankers' tool.
"I'll wager old Hankers had him try that game on me in Washington," thought the young diver. "It was done so that I couldn't join theSwallowat San Francisco, and that father might remain behind, too, to get me out of the scrape."
Presently Lemuel Hankers and Pete Rackley came so close that Dave could hear all that was said with ease.
"It is a surprise to me that theSwallowstopped here," Lemuel Hankers was saying. "Do you think she was following us!"
"Can't say as to that," replied Rackley, puffing away at a short pipe he was carrying. "Anyway, she's here. Now what is your game? Out with it."
"The game is that I don't want the Fearlesses to get at the sunken treasure, Pete."
"I've heard that before, Lemuel."
"You have always been my right-hand man, Pete, and I know I can rely on you yet, even though you did make a fizzle of that affair in Washington."
"I didn't know I was being spotted," growled the sailor, for such Pete Rackley really was.
"My game is that you go aboard of theSwallowand ship with Captain Broadbeam. Tell him you are a castaway, and have been here nearly a year."
"But young Fearless knows me."
"You can dye your face and your hair and he won't recognize you, I am sure. In that sailor rig you don't look like the man you were in Washington in a light suit and a linen shirt."
"That's true, too. But after I am on theSwallowI don't see what I can do to keep them from going ahead to where the treasure is."
"I will tell you what to do. Wait until you are about a day out from here and then watch your chance and disable the machinery, so that they will have to put back for repairs. When the machinery is repaired, injure the rudder, and that will bring them back again. Keep that up for about a month, and the treasure will be mine, and if I get it, you shall have ten thousand dollars in cold cash for your work."
"It's taking a big risk," answered Pete Rackley, slowly.
"And so is ten thousand dollars a big sum of money, Pete. It's more than you'll ever get by working, and you know it."
"That's true, too."
"And if you are sly about it, you'll run very little risk of detection."
"But how will I get on board of theRavenagain?"
"After you have kept theSwallowbehind a month you can let her go and desert, hiding in the woods so that they can't find you. You can provide yourself with plenty of food. As soon as we have the treasure on board of theRaven, I'll come back for you and take you on board."
"You won't desert me!"
"I will not. More than that, I'll take Captain Nesik into the secret with me, and I'll leave behind all of my diamonds and my gold watch as an evidence of my good faith."
"Leave your boy Bart here for company and I'll take you up, Hankers."
"I would even do that, Pete, but you know well enough Bart won't stay behind. He is crazy to get the treasure and crow over the Fearlesses. He even says he is going down himself, in that new diving bell we brought along—just to show that he can work under water as well as Dave Fearless."
"Then you must leave me all the stuff you can, and you and Captain Nesik must promise on your bended knees to come back for me. I wouldn't be marooned for twice ten thousand dollars."
"It will be all right. You can—hullo, who is calling?"
A form had appeared at the mouth of the cave.
"Are you in there, dad?" came the cry.
"Yes, Bart," answered Lemuel Hankers. He turned to Pete Rackley. "Come, quick! Do you accept my offer?"
"I do," answered the rascally sailor, and the pair of villains shook hands.
"What are you up to!" went on Bart Hankers, as he came closer.
"Oh, we were just taking a look around," replied his father, carelessly.
"Do you know that theSwallowis in this port?" went on Bart, as he drew closer to the underground stream.
"Yes."
"I wish she was at the bottom of the Pacific, and the Fearlesses with her."
"You should not be so hard on them," replied Lemuel Hankers, hypocritically.
At this Pete Rackley gave a harsh laugh.
"You're a good one," he remarked in a low tone.
"Hush; I don't want my son to know too much," whispered Lemuel Hankers.
By this time Bart Hankers was standing on the edge of the underground stream.
"Wish I could cross over and see what's on the other shore," he muttered.
So far Dave had kept silent, drinking in all that was said.
He realized only too well what a plot was going on against his father and himself, and against theSwallow.
"If only I can get free, I'll show them a trick or two," he told himself.
Suddenly Bart Hankers uttered a cry.
"A snake! A snake!"
He was right; a long snake had appeared at the top of the underground stream.
It was a dangerous-looking reptile, eight feet long, and with nasty green eyes.
Bart Hankers fell back in confusion.
But instead of climbing to the outer bank, the snake crawled out close to the rock behind which Dave was in hiding.
It was against human nature to remain hidden under the circumstances, and the young diver leaped up with all rapidity.
At the same time he yelled at the snake, and the reptile, much startled, dropped back into the stream and was lost to view.
"Dave Fearless!" gasped Bart Hankers, as soon as the danger from the snake was past.
"That boy!" came from Lemuel Hankers and Pete Rackley in a breath.
"Yes, it is I," answered the young diver, boldly.
"How did you get here?" demanded Lemuel Hankers, much disconcerted.
"Tumbled."
"Tumbled?"
"That is what I said, Lemuel Hankers. Have you any objection to my being here?"
"You followed us. You have been playing the part of a spy!" cried the rich man.
"How could I have followed you, seeing that I am on this side of the stream?"
"You leaped over."
"No, he couldn't do that, dad," interposed Bart. "He must have come in some other way."
"You overheard our talk?"
"I did."
At this Pete Rackley emitted a low whistle.
"In that case our cake is dough," he muttered.
"Not if I know it," muttered Lemuel Hankers, savagely. "Do you think I am to be worsted by a mere boy?" And he shook his fist at Dave.
All three of the young diver's enemies came to the edge of the stream.
"How did you get where you are?" repeated Lemuel Hankers.
"As I said before, I tumbled."
"You are trying to poke fun at me."
"I was never more serious in my life."
"You think you are smart," put in Bart.
"What I think is none of your business."
"We'll make it our business," burst out Lemuel Hankers, wrathfully. "Come over here, and come instantly."
Dave was surprised. He had not dreamed that Lemuel Hankers would carry his highhandedness so openly.
"I cannot come over," he said.
"And why not?"
"I cannot leap the distance."
"Then swim across."
"The current is too strong. Besides, I have no more wish for your company than for the company of that snake which just disappeared."
"Boy, you are a—a young scamp!" burst from Lemuel Hankers' lips.
"Thanks, but I don't wish any of your backhanded compliments, Lemuel Hankers. I am not half as much of a scamp as you are a villain."
"A villain?"
"That's what I said."
"Don't you dare to call my dad names," put in Bart, shaking his fist across the stream.
"I overheard your plot," went on Dave, ignoring Bart. "It's a pretty piece of business for a gentleman to propose."
At this Lemuel Hankers grew red and then pale.
"You—you know too much, boy," he faltered. "Come over here, I say. Or shall I bring you?"
"I don't see how you are going to bring me. You can't get over the stream any better than I can."
"It's running very strong, dad," announced Bart, who had been testing the current with some chips. "I don't believe anybody can get across without a long plank. He must have gotten into the cave from the other end."
"Then we can get in that way, too," put in Pete Rackley. "We ought to make him a prisoner," he added, in a low voice.
"I don't think you will get in," thought Dave. "If you do, the chances are you won't come out alive."
A short talk followed, which Dave could not hear.
Then Pete Rackley left the cave on a run, to reappear a few minutes later with a good-sized tree limb which the storm of a few days before had brought down.
"Now we'll get him!" cried Rackley, and threw the limb over the stream.
Dave was much startled. He knew not what to do, for to retreat was impossible.
Soon Rackley was over the underground stream, and Lemuel Hankers and his son followed.
All three ran after the young diver, who retreated to the extreme rear of the cavern.
Here Rackley caught him by the arm.
"You had better submit quietly," said Rackley. "If you don't, it will be the worse for you."
Dave saw at once that resistance was out of the question.
They were three to one, and all armed, while he was unarmed, and still weak from his tumble and what had followed.
"You have no right to make me a prisoner," he remarked, for the want of something better to say.
"We'll take the right," said Rackley, with a wicked grin. "Didn't expect to see me here, after our little affair in the Washington hotel, did you?" he added.
"Perhaps you'll get left now, as you did then," retorted Dave.
Rackley produced a rope which he had brought in with the tree limb, and soon Dave's hands were bound behind him.
"I have an idea," said Lemuel Hankers. "Why can't we leave him in this cave until both ships have sailed?"
"Just my notion," answered Rackley.
"You can feed him until theRavengets back, and he will be kind of company for you."
"I'll feed him if he behaves himself," growled Pete Rackley.
All three of the others tried their best to "pump" Dave, but could get nothing out of the young diver regarding his father's plans or those of Captain Broadbeam.
"You must find out yourself," he answered.
He was made to march to the extreme right of the cave, and here Rackley fastened him to a sharp rock which jutted from one of the walls.
"There, I reckon he won't get loose from that in a hurry," said the rascal, after his job was finished.
Then the three evildoers withdrew to the mouth of the cave, stopping at the underground stream just long enough to remove the tree limb so that Dave could not cross the stream even if he did get free.
A quarter of an hour later the others went away from the cave, and all became as silent as a tomb.
If the young diver had been disheartened before, he was now utterly cast down.
He was a prisoner of the enemy, and he felt almost certain that Pete Rackley would desert him and leave him to starve.
No food had been left with him excepting that which was in the water-soaked pouch that he carried.
And this he could not get at, for his hands were still bound tightly behind him.
An hour went by, and to him it seemed an age.
His thoughts wandered back to theSwallow. How was his stricken father getting along, and what did he think of his disappearance?
And what had become of poor Bob Vilett, who had accompanied him on this ill-fated expedition after game?
"Captain Broadbeam will most likely send out an expedition in search of us," he reasoned, "but I don't think any of them will come in here."
But then his hopes brightened a little.
Perhaps if the captain sent out somebody to look for himself and Bob, that person might discover theRavenin that port.
"If theRavenis discovered, father will feel sure Lemuel Hankers has had a hand in my disappearance, and he'll take the rascal to task for it."
Dave did not know that Lemuel Hankers had given strict orders to Captain Nesik, of theRaven, to keep out of sight of theSwallow, and that theRavenwas now well hidden in a little cove thickly surrounded by palms and tropical vines.
In less than two hours after leaving Dave, Lemuel Hankers and his son rejoined theRaven.
"What has become of Pete Rackley?" questioned Captain Nesik.
"He went off by himself," answered Lemuel Hankers. "To my mind, he isn't just right in his head."
"Why, what do you mean?"
"He ran around like a crazy man, and broke out into the wildest kind of singing. Said he was done with living on a ship, and was going to become a hermit."
This story was told for the benefit of the crew of theRaven.
In private, Lemuel Hankers told Captain Nesik the truth, and before nightfall the captain went ashore, pretending to look for Rackley.
When he came back he announced that Rackley must be dead, for he had found his hat at the top of a high cliff overlooking the ocean, and a part of his jacket on the jagged rocks below.
That night theRavenpulled up anchor and left the vicinity of the island. Before morning she was crowding on all steam, steering straight for the spot where the sunken treasure ship had gone down.
On board of theSwallowthere was much anxiety when Dave and the engineer did not return.
Captain Broadbeam did not deem it advisable to acquaint Amos Fearless with the true state of affairs at once.
When the old diver asked where Dave was, he was told that his son and Bob Vilett had determined to stay out until the next day.
In the meantime poor Dave remained a prisoner in the cave. His wet clothing gave him something of a chill during the night, and morning found him sick and hungry, and almost ready to give up in despair.
It was scarcely daylight when Dave heard odd-sounding footsteps approaching from the outer entrance of the cave.
He strained his eyes and at last made out a large wild animal.
It was a savage-looking jaguar, and had tracked the footsteps of those who had come to the cave the day before.
Presently the jaguar came to the underground stream.
Here it paused for a moment, then leaped to the other side.
It was now less than fifty yards from where Dave stood, a prisoner.
Suddenly the wild beast lifted its head, stared into the darkness, and gave a growl of rage.
It had discovered the helpless boy!
"I am lost now for sure!"
Such were the words which escaped Dave Fearless' lips as he watched the approach of the jaguar that had entered the cave and leaped the underground stream.
The young diver had long since given up trying to loosen the bonds which held him so tightly to the jagged rocks. Pete Rackley had done his villainous work well, and the efforts to get free had only caused the cords to sink deeply into Dave's wrists and ankles, until now the blood was flowing freely from those members.
And it was this blood which the wild beast of the island forest had scented!
The growl of the jaguar echoed and re-echoed throughout the lonely cave, causing Dave to shiver as with the ague.
It did indeed look as if the young diver's last hour on earth had come.
"Hi, go away!" he cried, frantically. "Go away! Scat!"
The cries caused the jaguar to pause while yet fifty feet from the youth.
It had never before attacked a human being, and the new experience caused it to proceed with caution.
But now it advanced again, crouching low on the cavern floor, its two eyes glowing like balls of fire in the semi-darkness of the retreat.
Nearer and nearer came the beast, until Dave imagined he could feel the hot breath of the jaguar upon his cheek. Then the tail of the animal began to oscillate slowly, showing that the jaguar was preparing to make a leap.
Bang! bang!
Almost deafening was the double report of a repeating rifle as it rang throughout the cave. At the shots the jaguar leaped high in the air, turned over several times, and then stretched itself in a convulsive death shudder.
Dave could scarcely believe his eyes and ears. Who had thus unexpectedly come to his deliverance?
"Bob!" The cry was little short of a scream. "Where in the world did you come from?"
"From the bowels of the earth, I reckon," was the reply, as the young engineer of theSwallowran forward. "Is the beast dead?" he went on, as he halted at the outer edge of the underground stream.
"I guess he is," answered Dave, watching the jaguar for a moment. "You are a good shot."
"I knew I had to kill him, or it would be all up with you, Dave. But how came you to be bound to yonder rock?"
"It's a long story. Take care of that stream, or you'll go underground again. You'll have to get a tree limb, or something, before you can come over. I think you'll find a tree limb at the mouth of the cave."
Without delay Bob Vilett ran out of the cave again, to return in a few minutes with the very tree limb Pete Rackley had used for crossing the stream.
Soon the young engineer was at Dave's side, and a slash or two of a pocket-knife set the young diver free.
Then both lost no time in quitting the cave.
Sitting down near the entrance, each told his story, to which the other listened with close attention.
Bob Vilett had lost his senses after going down into the hole, and had recovered, to find himself resting on a ledge in another cave, not far from the one Dave was occupying.
In trying to get out he had lost his way, and had at last emerged in the middle of a tiny valley choked with brush, vines, and other tropical growth.
He had wandered around until chance had brought him to the cave where Dave was a prisoner, and he had been astonished beyond measure to hear his friend calling loudly.
"It was a lucky thing that I retained my rifle, and that the water didn't hurt the cartridges," concluded Bob. "Had it been otherwise, the jig would have been up with you."
"That's true, Bob, and I shan't forget what you have done for me," returned Dave, warmly.
"Where have the rascals gone?"
"I don't know. Probably they have carried out the plot they mentioned while here."
"Then theRavenhas sailed."
"But what of theSwallow? Surely they wouldn't sail without us."
"I don't think they would. We must hunt her up without delay."
"I must have something to eat first. I am as hungry as—as that jaguar was."
"Hurrah! I have it. Let's broil ourselves a jaguar steak, just for the novelty."
To this Dave instantly agreed, and returning to the cave, they brought the beast forth and Bob proceeded to cut him up.
The steak was soon broiling over a fire which Dave kindled, and the smell proved more than appetizing.
The jaguar meat was tough and not of an extra fine flavor, yet they were tremendously hungry, and that made them less critical than otherwise.
In less than an hour the dinner was over, and after getting a drink and a wash-up, both proceeded on their way.
It was warm outside of the cave, so they did not suffer much inconvenience because of their wet clothing.
"Now to find our way back to theSwallow, and with all speed," said Dave. "Which do you suppose is the right direction?"
"That way," and Bob pointed with his hand.
"And I was thinking it was in that direction," and Dave pointed at right angles to the other course.
Then both laughed.
"We can't both be right," said Bob.
"Let us split the difference and take a course between the two. Then we probably won't go far wrong, Bob."
"Right you are."
On they went, into the valley which Bob had traversed, and then up the line of hills where they had shot the goats just after coming ashore.
But now they found themselves confronted by a deep ravine, partly choked with brush and vines.
"How are we going to get across that, Dave!"
"We'll have to walk along the bank until we reach some crossing-place," answered the young diver. "I am not going to risk a tumble by taking a leap."
"Nor I. I have had tumbles enough to last me a lifetime," and the young engineer shook his head dubiously.
On they went, the way growing more perilous every moment. They were at the edge of a forest, and the top of the ravine was lined with loose rocks.
Suddenly Bob, having made a leap from one rock to another, went down in a heap and gave a loud cry of pain.
"My foot! My foot!"
"What's the matter?"
"I've caught my foot under the rock!"
Dave immediately hastened forward, and saw that his chum was indeed fast.
The foot was wedged in a crevice, and could not be budged until Dave rolled the rock away by main force.
Then Bob grated his teeth and gave a deep groan.
"My ankle! It must be broken! Oh, Dave!"
And with another moan he fell back in a faint.
If Dave had been alarmed before, he was doubly so now, and he scarcely knew what to do. He remembered passing a pool of water a distance back, and he ran to this, filling the water bottle Bob had been carrying.
The water revived the young engineer somewhat, and in the meantime Dave cut loose his shoe. He found the injured ankle much discolored, and swelling rapidly. He bathed it, and this gave some relief, until the pain gave way to a stiff numbness.
"Now I am in a pickle," groaned Bob. "Did ever anybody run up against such luck before?"
"Better not try to stand yet," replied Dave.
"Stand? Why, the pain would go to my very heart if I tried it!" And poor Bob gave another groan.
Dave walked back and got more water, and after another bath the sprained ankle was bound up in some crushed leaves and some linen torn from one of the youth's shirtsleeves. Then they made themselves as comfortable as possible on the rocks, and began to talk over the new turn of affairs.
"Do you think I had better go on alone?" questioned Dave.
"I don't know. Somehow, I don't think we ought to separate."
"I agree, and yet we ought to try to reach theSwallowas soon as possible."
"That's so, too."
"Supposing I try to get over the ravine and to the top of the hill? I won't get out of rifle shot, and it may be I'll be able to spot our ship from the hilltop."
"All right, go ahead. But don't wander too far, or—gracious, look!"
He broke off short and pointed to a tree growing close at hand.
The leaves of the tree had parted slowly, and now from between them appeared the hideous head and shoulders of a monstrous gorilla! The gorilla's eyes were bent upon both boys, and the beast looked as if he meant immediate mischief!
"He's coming down on us, Bob!"
"Jump and save yourself, Dave!"
Crack! bang!
The cries and shots were uttered almost at the same time, and the air was instantly filled with smoke, followed by an unearthly squeal from the gorilla, who instantly disappeared from view.
But the beast was not seriously wounded, for the rifle balls had merely nipped his paw and his shoulder, and he was in a terrible rage.
"Is he dead, Bob?"
"Beckon not, for I can hear him climbing through the tree."
"We ought to get away from here, for there may be more of the gorillas about."
"That's true. But I can't walk."
"I'll carry you."
And having allowed Bob to slip some extra cartridges into the repeating rifle, Dave took his friend up in his arms.
He was just about to start down the ravine when the gorilla showed himself a second time.
He had armed himself with half-green cocoanuts, and taking aim, he let fly at Dave's head.
"Dodge!" yelled Bob, and the cry came none too soon, for the missile brushed over the top of the young diver's head. Then came several more cocoanuts, and Bob was struck in the side.
He could not stand the fusillade, and watching his chance, discharged the rifle again.
He only fired one shot, but this found its way through the gorilla's stomach, and mortally wounded the creature.
Down dropped the cocoanuts, one at a time. Then the animal's hold relaxed, and he too came down, almost at the feet of the youths.
The distorted, half-human face was terrible to look upon, and both Dave and Bob turned quickly away.
"I never want to see another gorilla," shuddered Dave.
"And I never want to shoot one," responded Bob.
Along the ravine went the young diver, carrying his friend upon his shoulder.
Two hundred feet of the rough way was covered when they reached a spot where the ravine might be crossed with ease.
Over they went, and then Dave set down his burden and took a well-earned rest.
By this time night was coming on, and still they were at least half a mile from the sea-coast.
"We won't gain theSwallowto-day," murmured the young diver, ruefully.
"And perhaps we won't gain the ship at all," responded the young engineer.
As is usual in the tropics, night came on suddenly. The sun went down behind the trees and the rim of the distant ocean, and soon the stars shone out clearly and beautifully.
All was quiet save for the sounds of the night birds in the thicket behind them.
To keep off the wild animals they built a large camp fire, and at this cooked some of the meat they had brought along from the cave.
Bob's ankle was cared for several times during the evening, and the youth declared that it now felt much better.
They took turns watching during the night, yet little came to disturb them. Once Dave heard a wild animal approaching and brought up the rifle, ready to fire on the instant. But the fire made the beast keep his distance, and he finally slunk away without showing himself.
Both boys were up at daybreak, and Bob declared that he would try to walk upon his foot, at least as far as the seacoast.
A quarter of an hour's climb took them to the top of the hills, and here they took a good look at the beach and the ocean spread out before them.
Not a sign of theSwallowwas to be seen anywhere.
This was disheartening, and Dave's heart sank.
Were they really deserted?
"We can't see all of the beach from here," said Bob, encouragingly. "See, yonder patch of wood hides a good stretch from view. TheSwallowmay be behind that. And even if she has gone off, remember that Pete Rackley was to disable her so that she would have to put back for repairs."
"And so far as he was concerned, I might have starved in the meantime," added Dave, bitterly.
"Yes. He must be a thorough rascal."
"He is. But no worse than Lemuel Hankers, to my way of thinking, Bob."
"Right you are."
They had to be careful in descending the side of the hill, for here were many treacherous stones, and neither wished to risk another sprained ankle.
But at last they stood at the bottom, with the ocean's shore but half a dozen rods away.
The foam from the breakers could be seen distinctly through the tall palms, and with their hearts beating rapidly they hurried forward to where a long stretch of dazzling sand stood as a barrier between the woodland and the water.
"No ship here," said Dave, soberly.
"This is not the spot where theSwallowcast anchor, Dave. The question is, was that cove north or south of here?"
"North, I should say."
"This time I agree with you. Come, walking along the beach will be easy enough."
And so it proved, although the fierce rays of the sun soon made both more than willing to seek the shade of the overhanging palms and other tropical trees which lined the beach.
At a distance ahead the beach curved, and as they approached this spot they heard a sudden wild shouting, combined with a flapping, which was altogether new to their ears.
"Savages, I'll bet a dollar!" cried Bob. "We had better go into hiding!"
"But what is that other noise?" queried Dave.
"I can't imagine. But come, don't stay here."
Both started for the forest, but the movement came too late.
From around the curve of the beach appeared half a dozen wild savages of the South Sea type, and the two youths were discovered.
"Hi ki werra!" shouted one of the savages. He was armed with a bow and arrows, and quickly leveled an arrow at Dave, who was nearest.
"Hi ki werra!" repeated the other savages, and they, too, leveled their arrows. "The white demons! The white demons!"
"We are in for it now!" whispered Dave. "Give them a shot from the rifle!"
"No, that would only make them mad," replied the young engineer. Nevertheless, he pointed the rifle at the head of the nearest native.
The effect was magical, for the savage immediately threw up both hands and began to yell like a madman.
He had once seen a gun go off and a goat shot thereby, and he imagined the "white demon" was going to slay him likewise.
The other savages also came to a halt, and all lowered their arrows.
Then Bob lowered the rifle.
A long pause on both sides followed.
The natives did not know what to do, and the youths were in a similar predicament.
One of the savages began to jabber away in his native tongue, but neither Dave nor Bob understood a word of what was said.
"This is all Greek to me!" shouted Dave. "Talk English."
"Englees!" repeated the savage, and shook his head. He understood that single word, but no more.
"We want to be left alone," put in Bob. "If you don't leave us alone, somebody will get hurt."
"Englees," repeated the native. Then, struck by a sudden inspiration, he advanced a few feet, threw down his bow and arrows, and held out his hands.
"He wants to be friendly, evidently," observed Bob.
"If it isn't a trick," answered the young diver. "I must say I don't like their looks."
"No more do I; but what are we to do, retreat?"
"Rather than fall into the hands of cannibals I'd go back over the hills to the cave."
The native was coming closer, and he tried to put as pleasant a look on his face as possible.
But the effort was a failure, for he was both crafty and cruel, and this disposition shone in every line of his reddish-black features.
"Go back!" shouted Bob, and raised the rifle again.
Scarcely had he spoken when there came a shout from the rear, and looking behind them, the two youths found that they were surrounded!
"We are in for it now, Dave!"
"Right you are, Bob. What shall we do, fight?"
"It would be useless, for they outnumber us ten to one."
And so speaking, Bob lowered the rifle once more.
It was well he did so, otherwise several arrows would have been sent whizzing through his body.
In a few seconds the natives had closed in on them and taken the rifle and other things from them.
Then they were bound with thongs and carted up the beach.
During all this time the thrashing on the beach ahead had continued, and now the boys saw what caused it.
In some unaccountable manner a whale had become cast up by the breakers.
He was caught in some brushwood and a fallen tree, but was doing his best to get back into his native element.
The savages considered the whale a great find, and were doing all in their power to make him their prisoner and kill him.
Scores of arrows had been shot into the huge, blubbery body, and the beach was dyed crimson with the blood of the marine monster.
Yet he thrashed around lively, and one native who went too near was knocked senseless by a blow from the whale's tail.
The fighting with arrows went on for a quarter of an hour longer, and in the meantime a long rope, made of vines and as tough as rawhide, was passed around the monster and made fast to a tree back of the beach.
The whale fought to the last, but gradually its struggles grew less and less, and finally ceased altogether.
Then arose a loud shouting, and rushing in, the savages began to dig at the body with their long knives and their war hatchets.
Some of the blubber they ate raw, much to the disgust of the prisoners, who found themselves forced to look on.
"They are worse than Esquimaux," muttered Dave. "Ugh! it makes me sick at the stomach."
"I wonder what they intend to do with us?"
"There is no telling. But I guess they won't eat us so long as the whale meat lasts. They seem to relish that immensely."
The boys passed a dismal half-hour, and during that time the savages cut up the whale and carted the meat off in huge chunks.
Then a savage who was evidently a chief came up and ordered some of his followers to bring Dave and Bob along.
Still bound, the two chums were picked up by two savages, who seemed to count their weight as nothing.
A journey lasting over an hour followed, straight into the interior of the island.
At the end of the inland lake previously mentioned, the band of savages halted.
Bob and Dave were tied fast to two trees, and then the natives proceeded to hold a council of war.
They wished to question the lads, but not one of them could speak English.
Presently a loud chanting was heard, and from a distance the boys saw more savages approaching.
There were three men and half a dozen women.
There was likewise another man, but he was white, even though his face had evidently been stained a reddish-brown color.
This man wore an attire which was comical in the extreme.
The suit consisted of a sailor's shirt and trousers, the latter cut off at the knees, and a shiny stovepipe hat, the band filled with feathers.
"Great Scott!" burst from Dave. "Look at that scarecrow!"
As soon as the man in the silk hat appeared all of the natives began bowing and chanting in chorus, and this they kept up until the strange one lifted his hands and let out a peculiar yell.
Then the stranger caught sight of the boys and ran up to them.
"Be th' eyes av Saint Patrick!" he cried, in a rich Irish brogue. "Who are ye, now; tell me that!"
"An Irishman!" ejaculated Dave, fervently. "Thank Heaven, one man can talk United States."
"Who are you?" demanded Bob.
At this the Irishman took off the stovepipe, swung it into the air, and made them a profound bow.
"Sure, I am Pat Stoodles, grand muck-a-muck av this wild tribe av haythins, castaway sailor from th' barkEmma D., high lord av the island, and second cousin av the royal Emperor of Turkey, ha, ha!"
And he laughed long and loud, and then shook hands.
"Are you putting this on for the natives' benefit?" questioned Bob. "If you are, let me say they don't understand a word."
At once a frown crossed Pat Stoodles' face.
He was indeed a castaway, and a solitary life of several years had partly turned his brain.
When the savages had found him he had acted so strangely that they had fancied he was some inhabitant of the infernal region. At first they had wanted nothing to do with him, but they had ended by making him something of a chief. In their own language they called him the fun-making high lord.
Pat Stoodles listened to their talk with interest, but shook his head when they mentioned theSwallow.
"You are afther bein' mistaken about th' ship," he said. "No ship comes here. What looks loike a ship is a vision in th' heavens, nothin' more!" And he clenched his fists. He had looked so long for a sail when alone that the subject had turned his brain.
"Poor chap!" said Bob, in an undertone, "I don't believe he can help us much."
"Perhaps he can save our lives." Our hero turned to the Irishman. "What will these natives do with us?"
"Sure an' I don't know. Maybe they'll be afther makin' princes av ye, me bould b'ys!"
"We would like our liberty."
Pat Stoodles shrugged his shoulders.
"Ye can gain yer liberty on but wan night av the month," he said. "That is whin th' moon is full an' they be afther havin' the feast av the skulls."
They did not know if he was in earnest, or if the talk was that of a crazy man.
Having spoken with them for some time, Pat Stoodles turned to the natives and began to jabber at them.
Evidently he had learned much of their language, for they listened attentively.
Then they brought the boys something to eat and to drink, and tried to make them otherwise comfortable.
But they would allow neither of them his liberty.
Night came and went, and still the chums remained prisoners of the savages.
Pat Stoodles spoke to them a long while in the morning, and at last appeared to believe their story of a ship.
"I will be afther lookin' fer her," he said. "But it's more likely a drame. I used to be afther dramin' loike that meself." And then he disappeared.
The morning slipped by, and the boys were thoroughly miserable. At first the natives left them alone, but presently they came on one after another and pulled their noses, their ears, and their hair. One savage doused them with dirty water from the lake, and all laughed loudly at the trick.
Noon had come and gone, when of a sudden several shots sounded in the distance.
The shots were followed by a loud yelling of natives, and at once those surrounding Dave and Bob ran off to learn the cause of the conflict.
"Something is up!" cried Dave. "What can it mean?"
"I reckon we'll soon learn," answered the young engineer.
A few more shots followed, and soon after all became quiet, the stillness lasting for over an hour.
Then a chanting was heard, and a body of savages appeared, having in their midst two prisoners.
"Look!" cried Dave. "Captain Broadbeam and Doctor Barrell! Is it possible!"
He was right. The newly made prisoners were the captain and the doctor, who had been surprised while on a second hunt for the missing ones.
"Dave Fearless! And Bob Vilett! Thank Heaven you are not dead!"
So spoke Captain Broadbeam as his eyes rested upon the two youthful prisoners of the savages.
The captain's clothing was torn, and there were marks of blood upon his face, showing that he had not submitted without a struggle. Indeed, both the captain of theSwallowand Doctor Barrell had fought to the bitter end.
"We have been hunting everywhere for you," put in the doctor. "Some thought you dead, but we were not willing to believe it."
"Did a man named Pete Rackley come to theSwallow?" questioned Dave, quickly.
"I know nothing of a man of that name," answered the captain, "but there came to us a poor and forlorn castaway, who said he had been alone on this island for nearly two years."
"Please describe him," said Bob.
The captain did so. Both Dave and Bob gave a groan.
"He is a fraud!" burst out the young diver.
"And he will wreck theSwallowbefore we can get back to her," added Bob.
Of course, both Captain Broadbeam and Doctor Barrell were astonished at these remarks.
"I don't understand," said the master of the ship.
As quickly as he could Dave explained the plot which had been hatched out by Lemuel Hankers and which Rackley, his tool, was to carry out.
"It is dastardly!" cried both the captain and the doctor.
"And to think I took him on board, gave him new clothing, and promised him pay until we should get back to the States," added the captain.
"Even now he may be wrecking my beautiful engine!" groaned Bob. "Oh, if only I had the rascal by the neck!"
The savages now interrupted the talk by separating the prisoners, tying each to a tree some distance from the others.
Pat Stoodles was nowhere to be seen, for he had gone off in an entirely different direction from that taken by the natives.
Slowly the day dragged by until night was at hand. The natives were busy preparing the meat taken from the whale, and for the time being paid but scant attention to the prisoners.
"We must escape to-night," thought Dave.
Yet how was it to be accomplished?
Although the natives took little notice of them, one of the younger men of the tribe had been set on guard, to see that none of them broke his bonds.
At last darkness settled down on the encampment. At first the fire blazed brightly, but at last it died down, leaving the prisoners in gloom.
The savages gathered close to the campfire, the women by themselves, and were soon wrapped in slumber.
One native remained on guard, seated on a fallen tree.
Suddenly a form appeared in the midst of the prisoners.
It was Pat Stoodles, but so transformed that Dave scarcely recognized the half-witted Irish castaway.
Stoodles was dressed in a suit of skins, and on his head rested a crown made of horn, set with peacock feathers.
In his hand the Irishman carried a long knife.
"I am the King of the Island Windjammers!" he cried, in a low tone. "I am sent to free the world! Avaunt, ye ghosts of ships! Begone, ye rats of my brain! Ha! and how is that, my bonnie b'y! An' that! An' that!"
Rambling on in this fashion, he quickly cut the ropes which held Dave and Bob. Then he turned to Captain Broadbeam and of a sudden he stopped with mouth wide open.
"Captain Broadbeam, or is it another av thim drames?" he gasped.
"Pat Stoodles!" cried the captain. "And so you are the king of these savages. Release me at once!"
"I will! I will!" answered Stoodles, and cut the bonds, and also those of the doctor.
All this time the savage on guard was looking on in silence, for he dared not interfere with the doings of Stoodles. Yet he grew uneasy when he saw all the prisoners liberated and saw the Irishman shake Captain Broadbeam by the hand. He gave a sudden and shrill cry.
Quick as a flash Stoodles turned upon him.
"That's fer ye!" roared the Irishman, and knocked him flat with a blow of his fist.
"Quick, we must get away!" cried Dave. "See, all of the savages are awake!"
He spoke the truth, and the others felt that they must fly on the instant or it would be too late.
"To the woods!" cried the doctor. "Perhaps we can hide!"
"I will show ye a spot!" put in Stoodles. "I have a cave all me own where they won't be afther findin' ye!"
He led the way and the others followed, through the brush and up a hill back of the lake upon which the encampment was located.
It was a crooked and dangerous path, yet by keeping close to Stoodles they avoided many a nasty pitfall.
Soon they heard the savages on their trail. At first they were some distance off, but gradually they grew closer and closer.
"I can't go much further!" gasped poor Bob. "My ankle pains me something awful!"
"Don't ye be afther givin' up!" said Pat Stoodles. "We'll soon be at me castle, which all the savages on the island can't conquer."
They were now passing along the bed of a small stream which flowed into the lake. Presently before them arose a beautiful waterfall, twenty feet high and eight or nine feet broad.
"That's the dure av me castle," announced Stoodles. "Make a quick sthep inside an' ye'll not git overly wet."
With this he dove straight into the waterfall and disappeared from view.