Chapter Forty Three.Smith has a Startler.Oliver Lane was dreaming of pleasant gushing streams, in which swam fish of glistening colours, deep down in the soft shades, when the sun appeared to come out suddenly and dazzle his eyes, so that he could not bear it, and he sprang up to find Mr Rimmer leaning over him, holding a lantern.“That’s better, sir!” he cried. “I was beginning to be afraid that you had breathed bad air.”“I—I—what time is it?” said Oliver confusedly. “Anything the matter?”“Matter!” said the mate. “Here, Smith, my lad, rouse!”“Rouse up it is, sir!” cried the man, scrambling to his feet. “My trick? Eh? Oh, all right. Just dropped asleep.”“I couldn’t for the moment recall where I was,” said Oliver, “Thank goodness you have all come. We could do nothing, and sleep overcame us at last.”“Then you have heard nothing of poor Wriggs?” said Panton, who was one of the group that surrounded them.“Nothing,” replied Oliver.“And never will, I’m afraid,” said Mr Rimmer.“Don’t say that,” cried Oliver, who was full of excitement now. “Have you just come?”“Yes, and found you both lying here asleep, as if nothing were wrong,” said Drew, who, like the others, carried a lantern. “We had a terribly long struggle to get out of the cavern, for our last piece of candle soon came to an end, and then it was very hard work to get back to the ship in the dark.”“Dark? Was it evening?”“Black night,” said Panton.“Then what is it now?”“The sun was just upon rising as we left the crater lake and came in,” said the mate, “and that’s two hours ago, full.”Smith gave his leg a slap to express his astonishment, and the mate offered them both food and water, which had been thoughtfully provided.“By-and-by,” said Oliver. “I’m not hungry now. Come on, and try and find that poor fellow.”He held out his hand for one of the lanterns, and leading the way, which was comparatively light now, as the sailors who had been brought held their lanterns well up, he soon reached the corner, passed it, and saw that they were in a very spacious cavern. Then the second stream was reached, and they all stood together gazing out toward where the cascade formed by the union of the two rivers plunged down.But nothing was visible save blackness and wreathing vapour, which gleamed in a grey ghostly way some distance in front, and to try and see better some magnesium wire was burned.This vivid white light showed that there was a black dripping roof some fifty feet overhead, and the water of the two streams gliding rapidly away from below the angle on which they stood, covering one whole side of the visible cavern with water, and increasing in speed till it disappeared beneath the rising mist caused, of course, by the falls.There the lanterns were swung about over the water, and shout after shout was sent forth to be lost in the torrent’s roar, till at last the mate turned away and signed to the party to follow him.He led them back to where the noise grew hushed, and they could speak once more.“There is nothing more to be done, gentlemen,” said the mate, sadly. “The poor fellow must have gone over somewhere along that rocky edge. I saw several places where it was as slippery as ice, and he has been swept into the depths. Ugh, the whole thing makes me shudder.”He was right: they all knew nothing more could be done, and they tramped back over the smooth lava stream.“And I feel to blame for it all,” said Panton, as he walked between his friends. “Who could have foretold that such a terrible calamity would happen to us? It is too horrible to bear.”At last there was a faint gleam of light upon the water, followed by a flash, and then the lanterns were extinguished, for the blaze of sunshine could be seen playing upon the lake and the Gothic archway of the cavern’s mouth fringed with creepers and ferns, while like some curious silhouette, there for a few moments upon one of the rocks just level with the water, those which had served for stepping-stones, was the figure of a large graceful leopard as it stood gazing into the cavern, but turned and bounded away directly.The light was hardly bearable for a few minutes, as the party issued out to climb the walls of the ancient crater, and then descend on the other side, but eyes soon grew accustomed to the change, and Smith uttered a deep sigh full of mournfulness.“I never see nothing look so beautiful before,” he said to Oliver, “but oh, if poor old Billy Wriggs was here to see it. He wouldn’t say to me, ‘Speak the truth, Tommy, speak the truth,’ for them’s the truest words, sir, as I ever said.”They reached the side of the brig, hot and weary, to find all well, and as they parted on the deck Smith turned to Oliver.“I’m a-goin’ down to have a good heavy wash, sir, ’fore I has any breakfast, and then I don’t think as I shall eat any, for it’s hard lines to ha’ lost one’s mate.”“Hard indeed, Smith,” said Oliver, sympathetically. “Poor fellow! but I think we did all we could.”“Heverythink, sir, I say,” replied the man, who then went slowly below into the forecastle and rushed out again, looking horrified, scared, and yelling loudly.“Hallo!” cried Mr Rimmer, running forward. “What’s the matter now?”Smith could not speak, but stood with his lips quivering and his eyes round and staring.“Do you hear?” cried the mate, angrily. “Why don’t you speak?”The reason was patent to all. The poor fellow could not utter a word, but stood pointing wildly down through the forecastle hatch.
Oliver Lane was dreaming of pleasant gushing streams, in which swam fish of glistening colours, deep down in the soft shades, when the sun appeared to come out suddenly and dazzle his eyes, so that he could not bear it, and he sprang up to find Mr Rimmer leaning over him, holding a lantern.
“That’s better, sir!” he cried. “I was beginning to be afraid that you had breathed bad air.”
“I—I—what time is it?” said Oliver confusedly. “Anything the matter?”
“Matter!” said the mate. “Here, Smith, my lad, rouse!”
“Rouse up it is, sir!” cried the man, scrambling to his feet. “My trick? Eh? Oh, all right. Just dropped asleep.”
“I couldn’t for the moment recall where I was,” said Oliver, “Thank goodness you have all come. We could do nothing, and sleep overcame us at last.”
“Then you have heard nothing of poor Wriggs?” said Panton, who was one of the group that surrounded them.
“Nothing,” replied Oliver.
“And never will, I’m afraid,” said Mr Rimmer.
“Don’t say that,” cried Oliver, who was full of excitement now. “Have you just come?”
“Yes, and found you both lying here asleep, as if nothing were wrong,” said Drew, who, like the others, carried a lantern. “We had a terribly long struggle to get out of the cavern, for our last piece of candle soon came to an end, and then it was very hard work to get back to the ship in the dark.”
“Dark? Was it evening?”
“Black night,” said Panton.
“Then what is it now?”
“The sun was just upon rising as we left the crater lake and came in,” said the mate, “and that’s two hours ago, full.”
Smith gave his leg a slap to express his astonishment, and the mate offered them both food and water, which had been thoughtfully provided.
“By-and-by,” said Oliver. “I’m not hungry now. Come on, and try and find that poor fellow.”
He held out his hand for one of the lanterns, and leading the way, which was comparatively light now, as the sailors who had been brought held their lanterns well up, he soon reached the corner, passed it, and saw that they were in a very spacious cavern. Then the second stream was reached, and they all stood together gazing out toward where the cascade formed by the union of the two rivers plunged down.
But nothing was visible save blackness and wreathing vapour, which gleamed in a grey ghostly way some distance in front, and to try and see better some magnesium wire was burned.
This vivid white light showed that there was a black dripping roof some fifty feet overhead, and the water of the two streams gliding rapidly away from below the angle on which they stood, covering one whole side of the visible cavern with water, and increasing in speed till it disappeared beneath the rising mist caused, of course, by the falls.
There the lanterns were swung about over the water, and shout after shout was sent forth to be lost in the torrent’s roar, till at last the mate turned away and signed to the party to follow him.
He led them back to where the noise grew hushed, and they could speak once more.
“There is nothing more to be done, gentlemen,” said the mate, sadly. “The poor fellow must have gone over somewhere along that rocky edge. I saw several places where it was as slippery as ice, and he has been swept into the depths. Ugh, the whole thing makes me shudder.”
He was right: they all knew nothing more could be done, and they tramped back over the smooth lava stream.
“And I feel to blame for it all,” said Panton, as he walked between his friends. “Who could have foretold that such a terrible calamity would happen to us? It is too horrible to bear.”
At last there was a faint gleam of light upon the water, followed by a flash, and then the lanterns were extinguished, for the blaze of sunshine could be seen playing upon the lake and the Gothic archway of the cavern’s mouth fringed with creepers and ferns, while like some curious silhouette, there for a few moments upon one of the rocks just level with the water, those which had served for stepping-stones, was the figure of a large graceful leopard as it stood gazing into the cavern, but turned and bounded away directly.
The light was hardly bearable for a few minutes, as the party issued out to climb the walls of the ancient crater, and then descend on the other side, but eyes soon grew accustomed to the change, and Smith uttered a deep sigh full of mournfulness.
“I never see nothing look so beautiful before,” he said to Oliver, “but oh, if poor old Billy Wriggs was here to see it. He wouldn’t say to me, ‘Speak the truth, Tommy, speak the truth,’ for them’s the truest words, sir, as I ever said.”
They reached the side of the brig, hot and weary, to find all well, and as they parted on the deck Smith turned to Oliver.
“I’m a-goin’ down to have a good heavy wash, sir, ’fore I has any breakfast, and then I don’t think as I shall eat any, for it’s hard lines to ha’ lost one’s mate.”
“Hard indeed, Smith,” said Oliver, sympathetically. “Poor fellow! but I think we did all we could.”
“Heverythink, sir, I say,” replied the man, who then went slowly below into the forecastle and rushed out again, looking horrified, scared, and yelling loudly.
“Hallo!” cried Mr Rimmer, running forward. “What’s the matter now?”
Smith could not speak, but stood with his lips quivering and his eyes round and staring.
“Do you hear?” cried the mate, angrily. “Why don’t you speak?”
The reason was patent to all. The poor fellow could not utter a word, but stood pointing wildly down through the forecastle hatch.
Chapter Forty Four.A Tongue in a Knot.Oliver and the mate immediately made a sharp rush for the opening, and the first uttered a cry of astonishment as he got down into the men’s place, for there, dimly seen by the faint light shed by a great disc of glass let into the fore part of the deck and well cemented with pitch, was a man in one of the bunks sleeping heavily, while in a tone indicative of his astonishment, the mate exclaimed,—“What, Wriggs! You here?”“Ay, ay, sir,” shouted the man, rising so suddenly that he struck his head a violent blow against the floor of the bunk above him. “I say, don’t wake a man quite so hard!” he grumbled, and then, as he recognised the speaker, “Beg pardon, sir, didn’t know it was you.”“Why, how did you get here?” cried Oliver.“Get here, sir? Oh, I walked it, and was that bet out that I tumbled in at once. Tommy Smith got back?”“Yes, and all of them,” cried the mate. “Here, pass the word for Smith, and tell him it isn’t a ghost.”“I’m here, sir,” said a gruff voice as the hatchway was filled up by a body which darkened the light. “Is it alive?”“Tommy ahoy!” cried Wriggs hoarsely. “I got back fust.”“But how?” cried Oliver. “You did not pass us and come out the way we went in.”“No, sir; I went out t’other way by the back door.”“Is he all right—alive?” cried Panton, in a voice full of hysterical excitement as he scrambled down, followed by Drew.“He seems to be,” said the mate. “Are you sure you’re alive, Wriggs?”“Yes, sir, I think so.”“But how was it?” cried Oliver.“Ah, that’s a queshtun, sir,” said the man, rubbing one ear. “I don’t quite know, on’y as I was walking along arter you one moment, and the next my legs seemed to run down a slide and I was in the water.”“I thought so,” cried Oliver.“I did holler, but there was such a row nobody heered me, and afore I knowed where I was I seemed to be going down with five hundred millions o’ chaps sousing buckets o’ water on my head till I was most stifled, and then I was going on again.”“Going on where?”“Oh, I dunno, on’y as it was all dark and the water just deep enough to slide me along over the bottom which was smooth as glass.”“Ah! the trough cut by the water in the lava stream,” cried Panton, “continued right on after the fall.”“Yes, sir, that’s it. I continued right on arter the fall till I got rayther sick on it and tried to get out fust one side and then the other.”“And did you?” cried Oliver.“No, sir, I just didn’t, for it was all as slipper as slither, and as soon as I tried, the water seemed to lay hold on me and pull me back and send me on again.”“And did you keep on like that?”“Oh, no; I got up sometimes and tried to walk, and other times I went along sittin’.”“But didn’t you try to come back?”“Try, sir? What was the good? Why, the water did just what it liked with me, and wouldn’t even let me try to swim. Do you think I could ha’ got back up that waterfall? Bless your ’art, sir, seems to me as if you might as well try to get up to the moon.”“Never mind that,” said Oliver, excitedly; “tell us about what followed,” and then he turned his head sharply, for Smith was rubbing his hands down his legs and chuckling softly now in his intense delight to see his messmate back safe and sound.“Told you so—I told you so,” he muttered.“Course I will, sir,” said Wriggs. “Well, you see the water kept carrying me along in the dark, and as fast as I managed to get up it downed me again and began to stuffycate me, only I wouldn’t have that, and got up again and tried to stand. But it warn’t no use, the bottom was too slithery, and down I goes again in the darkness, thinking it was all over with me, but I gets the better of it again, and on I goes sailing along, sometimes up and sometimes down, and a-swallering enough water to last me for a week.”“Yes, go on,” cried Oliver.“Right, sir, I’m a-goin’ on,” said Wriggs. “Where was I?”“A-swallerin’ the water, Billy,” said Smith, interposing a word or two.“So I was, Tommy, lots of it. I kep’ on swallerin’ that water till I didn’t swaller no more ’cause there warn’t no room. So, of course, I left off, and went bobbin’ up and bobbin’ down, sometimes goin’ head fust and sometimes legs fust. Oh, it was at a rate! And it was as dark as pitch, and you couldn’t get out this side nor t’other side neither.”“Well, go on,” said Mr Rimmer, impatiently.“Yes, sir; and there I goes, getting in a puff o’ wind now and then when I has a charnsh, and the water a-rooshin’ me along and the bottom all slithery, and sometimes I was heads up and sometimes toes, and the water kep’ a carryin’ of me along so as I couldn’t stand straight nor sit down nor kneel nor nothing. But on I keeps again, on and on and on, and sometimes I was down and—”“I say,” said Panton, “wasn’t it a very long way?”“Yes, sir, a mortal long ways, and sometimes the water got me down when I tried to swim and sometimes—”“Yes, yes, yes,” cried Oliver, for the mate was roaring with laughter; “but you’ve told us all that over and over again. We want you to get to the end.”“That’s what I wanted to do, sir,” said Wriggs, “but there didn’t seem to be no end and the water kep’ a—”“My good fellow, that isn’t the way to tell a story,” cried Oliver, impatiently. “Now, then, get on: we’ve had enough of that. The water swept you along a dark cavernous place where it had cut a way through the lava, and you couldn’t keep your feet.”“That’s it, sir. You can tell it ever so much better nor me. Go on, please.”“How can I?” cried Oliver, as there was a general burst of laughter at this. “I was not there, so how am I to tell your story?”“I d’know, sir; but you seems to know ever so much more about it than me, for it was so dark and the water kep’ a-rooshin me along—”“Right to the entrance, where the stream swept you out into the open air, but before you got there you could see the light gleaming along on the top of the water, and this increased till you found yourself in’ the full glow of daylight where the stream rushed out and down toward the sea.”“Why, did you tumble in too, Mr Oliver Lane, sir?” cried Wriggs, staring open-eyed.“I? Of course not,” cried Oliver.“But that were just how it was, sir. How did you know?”“I only supposed it was like that, my man.”“Well that’s a rum ’un, for I was washed right out with a regular fizz at last, like a cork in a drain.”“And where?” said Mr Rimmer.“Oh, over yonder somewheres, sir, and I warn’t long scuffling ashore, for there was two black fins out, and I knowed as Jack shark’s shovel nose warn’t far in front.”“Was it in the lagoon?”“Yes, sir, that was it, and then I gets all my things off and wrings ’em, and lays ’em out ready for the sun to shine on when it come up, while I covers myself all over with sand, which was as nyste and warm as getting between blankets.”“But I thought you said you were swept out into the broad daylight,” cried Oliver.“No, sir, it was you as said that: I didn’t. I couldn’t cause it was the moon a-shining, and the stars and some o’ them flying sparks in among the trees.”“Well, you’ve got a rum way of telling a story, Wriggs,” said the mate. “What did you do next?”“Oh, I snoozed on till it was quite warm, and my clothes was dry, and then I takes my bearin’s and steered off through the woods for port.”“Did you see any of the blacks?” said the mate.“No, sir, and didn’t want to. It was black enough for me in that hole underground, to last me for a long time yet. Don’t want any more black, sir, yet, thank-ye.”“Well, you’re safe back,” said Panton, “and no one is more glad than I am, though we did have all our trouble for nothing, and you may thank Mr Lane and Smith for staying there in the dark waiting till lights were fetched.”“Did Mr Lane do that, sir?”“To be sure he did.”“And Tommy Smith stopped too, sir?”“Yes, to keep him company, though we thought once we’d lost him too.”“Much ado about nothing,” said the mate drily. “You gentlemen lead me a pretty dance. What’s the next thing, Mr Panton—do you want to go down the crater of the volcano?”“Yes, if it is possible,” replied the young man, so seriously that there was a general laugh, and soon after Wriggs was left to finish his sleep, while Panton retired to the cabin to number and make notes about a few of the crystals which he had brought back in his pockets, but thinking of how that cavern might be turned to use.
Oliver and the mate immediately made a sharp rush for the opening, and the first uttered a cry of astonishment as he got down into the men’s place, for there, dimly seen by the faint light shed by a great disc of glass let into the fore part of the deck and well cemented with pitch, was a man in one of the bunks sleeping heavily, while in a tone indicative of his astonishment, the mate exclaimed,—
“What, Wriggs! You here?”
“Ay, ay, sir,” shouted the man, rising so suddenly that he struck his head a violent blow against the floor of the bunk above him. “I say, don’t wake a man quite so hard!” he grumbled, and then, as he recognised the speaker, “Beg pardon, sir, didn’t know it was you.”
“Why, how did you get here?” cried Oliver.
“Get here, sir? Oh, I walked it, and was that bet out that I tumbled in at once. Tommy Smith got back?”
“Yes, and all of them,” cried the mate. “Here, pass the word for Smith, and tell him it isn’t a ghost.”
“I’m here, sir,” said a gruff voice as the hatchway was filled up by a body which darkened the light. “Is it alive?”
“Tommy ahoy!” cried Wriggs hoarsely. “I got back fust.”
“But how?” cried Oliver. “You did not pass us and come out the way we went in.”
“No, sir; I went out t’other way by the back door.”
“Is he all right—alive?” cried Panton, in a voice full of hysterical excitement as he scrambled down, followed by Drew.
“He seems to be,” said the mate. “Are you sure you’re alive, Wriggs?”
“Yes, sir, I think so.”
“But how was it?” cried Oliver.
“Ah, that’s a queshtun, sir,” said the man, rubbing one ear. “I don’t quite know, on’y as I was walking along arter you one moment, and the next my legs seemed to run down a slide and I was in the water.”
“I thought so,” cried Oliver.
“I did holler, but there was such a row nobody heered me, and afore I knowed where I was I seemed to be going down with five hundred millions o’ chaps sousing buckets o’ water on my head till I was most stifled, and then I was going on again.”
“Going on where?”
“Oh, I dunno, on’y as it was all dark and the water just deep enough to slide me along over the bottom which was smooth as glass.”
“Ah! the trough cut by the water in the lava stream,” cried Panton, “continued right on after the fall.”
“Yes, sir, that’s it. I continued right on arter the fall till I got rayther sick on it and tried to get out fust one side and then the other.”
“And did you?” cried Oliver.
“No, sir, I just didn’t, for it was all as slipper as slither, and as soon as I tried, the water seemed to lay hold on me and pull me back and send me on again.”
“And did you keep on like that?”
“Oh, no; I got up sometimes and tried to walk, and other times I went along sittin’.”
“But didn’t you try to come back?”
“Try, sir? What was the good? Why, the water did just what it liked with me, and wouldn’t even let me try to swim. Do you think I could ha’ got back up that waterfall? Bless your ’art, sir, seems to me as if you might as well try to get up to the moon.”
“Never mind that,” said Oliver, excitedly; “tell us about what followed,” and then he turned his head sharply, for Smith was rubbing his hands down his legs and chuckling softly now in his intense delight to see his messmate back safe and sound.
“Told you so—I told you so,” he muttered.
“Course I will, sir,” said Wriggs. “Well, you see the water kept carrying me along in the dark, and as fast as I managed to get up it downed me again and began to stuffycate me, only I wouldn’t have that, and got up again and tried to stand. But it warn’t no use, the bottom was too slithery, and down I goes again in the darkness, thinking it was all over with me, but I gets the better of it again, and on I goes sailing along, sometimes up and sometimes down, and a-swallering enough water to last me for a week.”
“Yes, go on,” cried Oliver.
“Right, sir, I’m a-goin’ on,” said Wriggs. “Where was I?”
“A-swallerin’ the water, Billy,” said Smith, interposing a word or two.
“So I was, Tommy, lots of it. I kep’ on swallerin’ that water till I didn’t swaller no more ’cause there warn’t no room. So, of course, I left off, and went bobbin’ up and bobbin’ down, sometimes goin’ head fust and sometimes legs fust. Oh, it was at a rate! And it was as dark as pitch, and you couldn’t get out this side nor t’other side neither.”
“Well, go on,” said Mr Rimmer, impatiently.
“Yes, sir; and there I goes, getting in a puff o’ wind now and then when I has a charnsh, and the water a-rooshin’ me along and the bottom all slithery, and sometimes I was heads up and sometimes toes, and the water kep’ a carryin’ of me along so as I couldn’t stand straight nor sit down nor kneel nor nothing. But on I keeps again, on and on and on, and sometimes I was down and—”
“I say,” said Panton, “wasn’t it a very long way?”
“Yes, sir, a mortal long ways, and sometimes the water got me down when I tried to swim and sometimes—”
“Yes, yes, yes,” cried Oliver, for the mate was roaring with laughter; “but you’ve told us all that over and over again. We want you to get to the end.”
“That’s what I wanted to do, sir,” said Wriggs, “but there didn’t seem to be no end and the water kep’ a—”
“My good fellow, that isn’t the way to tell a story,” cried Oliver, impatiently. “Now, then, get on: we’ve had enough of that. The water swept you along a dark cavernous place where it had cut a way through the lava, and you couldn’t keep your feet.”
“That’s it, sir. You can tell it ever so much better nor me. Go on, please.”
“How can I?” cried Oliver, as there was a general burst of laughter at this. “I was not there, so how am I to tell your story?”
“I d’know, sir; but you seems to know ever so much more about it than me, for it was so dark and the water kep’ a-rooshin me along—”
“Right to the entrance, where the stream swept you out into the open air, but before you got there you could see the light gleaming along on the top of the water, and this increased till you found yourself in’ the full glow of daylight where the stream rushed out and down toward the sea.”
“Why, did you tumble in too, Mr Oliver Lane, sir?” cried Wriggs, staring open-eyed.
“I? Of course not,” cried Oliver.
“But that were just how it was, sir. How did you know?”
“I only supposed it was like that, my man.”
“Well that’s a rum ’un, for I was washed right out with a regular fizz at last, like a cork in a drain.”
“And where?” said Mr Rimmer.
“Oh, over yonder somewheres, sir, and I warn’t long scuffling ashore, for there was two black fins out, and I knowed as Jack shark’s shovel nose warn’t far in front.”
“Was it in the lagoon?”
“Yes, sir, that was it, and then I gets all my things off and wrings ’em, and lays ’em out ready for the sun to shine on when it come up, while I covers myself all over with sand, which was as nyste and warm as getting between blankets.”
“But I thought you said you were swept out into the broad daylight,” cried Oliver.
“No, sir, it was you as said that: I didn’t. I couldn’t cause it was the moon a-shining, and the stars and some o’ them flying sparks in among the trees.”
“Well, you’ve got a rum way of telling a story, Wriggs,” said the mate. “What did you do next?”
“Oh, I snoozed on till it was quite warm, and my clothes was dry, and then I takes my bearin’s and steered off through the woods for port.”
“Did you see any of the blacks?” said the mate.
“No, sir, and didn’t want to. It was black enough for me in that hole underground, to last me for a long time yet. Don’t want any more black, sir, yet, thank-ye.”
“Well, you’re safe back,” said Panton, “and no one is more glad than I am, though we did have all our trouble for nothing, and you may thank Mr Lane and Smith for staying there in the dark waiting till lights were fetched.”
“Did Mr Lane do that, sir?”
“To be sure he did.”
“And Tommy Smith stopped too, sir?”
“Yes, to keep him company, though we thought once we’d lost him too.”
“Much ado about nothing,” said the mate drily. “You gentlemen lead me a pretty dance. What’s the next thing, Mr Panton—do you want to go down the crater of the volcano?”
“Yes, if it is possible,” replied the young man, so seriously that there was a general laugh, and soon after Wriggs was left to finish his sleep, while Panton retired to the cabin to number and make notes about a few of the crystals which he had brought back in his pockets, but thinking of how that cavern might be turned to use.
Chapter Forty Five.Smith has a “Sentiment.”Mr Rimmer gave way, and a few days after an expedition was made to try once more to mount right up to the mouth of the crater. Taking advantage of what had been learned in former expeditions, the little party followed their last plan, rowed beyond the poisonous mist, landed, and after securing the boat as before, they made for the old camp, reached it and spent a delightful evening watching the faint glow upon the cloud which hovered over the mouth of the crater, and then gazed at the scintillating fire-flies, which upon this occasion made the low growth at the edge of the forest below them alive with sparkling lights.Long before daylight they were on their way, with the air feeling cold and numbing as they climbed the loose ash and cinders which formed the slope. The great cracks in the mountain-side were successfully passed, and by sunrise they were high enough up to get a glorious view over the island, while a couple of hours after, a point was reached which enabled them to trace the greater part of the coast line and learn by the barrier reef with its white foam that without doubt they were upon an island.“Now, then,” cried Panton, after a brief halt for refreshment, “how long do you say it will take us?”“Two hours,” said Oliver, gazing up at the remainder of the slope, and thinking of how quiescent the volcano was: for save an occasional trembling or vibration under foot, all seemed still.“One hour at the most,” said Drew. “Come on.”“I say the same,” cried Panton. “Come on.”Oliver proved to be nearest as to time, for they all referred to their watches when the above words were spoken, and again, when, after a long weary scramble over the yielding ashes, from which came breathings of hot, stifling air.“Two hours, forty minutes,” cried Drew. “I couldn’t have thought it.”The hot, gaseous emanations had really seemed to be like breathings, and as they neared the top, they were conscious, as they paused again and again, of the mountain seeming to pant and utter sounds like weary sighs.As they mounted higher, the heat began to grow suffocating, and it was at last so bad that Smith and Wriggs pulled up short and looked hard at their leaders.“Well?” cried Oliver.“Think it safe to go any furder, sir?” said Smith.“Safe or no, we mean to get to the top now we’ve mounted so high. Why do you ask? Want to stop?”“Well, sir, you see Billy Wriggs been thinking for some time as it was getting werry dangerous, and he’d like to go down.”“Speak the truth, Tommy, speak the truth,” growled Wriggs.“Why, I am speaking the truth, Billy,” cried Smith, in angry remonstrance. “Didn’t you say over and over again as it was werry dangerous?”“Nay, I said it was dangerous, I didn’t say werry.”“Oh, well, that’s nigh enough for me, messmate.”“You two had better stay here while we go to the top,” said Oliver, quietly. “Ready, you others?”“Yes,” said Panton. “Forward,” and they started upward again, but stopped directly, for the two sailors were trudging up close behind them.“I thought you two were going to stop back,” cried Oliver.“Not me,” said Smith. “Billy Wriggs can, if he likes.”“What?” cried the latter, “and let you get puffin’ and blowin’ about havin’ done my dags. Not me, Tommy, old man. I’m a-goin’ right up to the top, and I’ll go as far inside as he will, gen’lemen.”“Come along, then,” cried Oliver, and the slow trudge, trudge was resumed in zig-zags, till Smith halted once more, and stood wiping his steaming face.“Beg pardon, sir,” he said, “but if you look uppards, you can see as the smoke hangs over toward us.”“Yes, what of that?” said Oliver.“Well, that means wind, though we can’t feel none. Wouldn’t it be best, ’stead o’ doublin’ back, if we was to go right on now, so as to get higher and higher, and more round to windward?”“I’m afraid that it will be the same all about the mouth of the crater,” said Panton, “but we’ll try.”It was a simple expedient that they ought to have thought of before, and Smith proved to be correct, for as they wound on slowly upwards the heat grew greater, but they began to be aware of soft puffs of wind, and at the end of another half-hour, they had climbed to where a steady soft current of cool air blew against them. This made the final part of the toilsome ascent so bearable that as they reached a glistening vitreous stream of greyish hue which looked as if the crater had brimmed over and poured down this molten matter, Oliver leaped upon it and ran for a couple of hundred yards. Then he disappeared suddenly, and horrified the rest, who followed as fast as they could go.But there was no cause of alarm. As they reached the top of the slope there stood their companion some twenty feet below them on the rugged, jagged and fissured slope of the crater gazing down at a dull glistening lake of molten matter, but so covered with a grey scum that it was only from time to time that a crack appeared, out of which darted a glare so bright that it was visible in the full sunshine, while a tremendous glow struck upon their faces, making their eyes smart as they gazed at the transparent quivering gas which rose up from the molten mass.A stronger breeze was blowing here, bearing the heat away, otherwise it would have been unbearable, and they made their way on the chaos of cindery rock which lay about in blocks riven and split in every form, some glazed by the glass of the mighty natural furnace, some of a clear vesicular silvery grey, while a hundred yards or so distant and about fifty lower than where they stood, the lake of molten matter lay about circular and apparently half a mile across. The rim of the gigantic cup which from below had looked so regular was now seen to be broken into a thousand cracks and crevices, some going right down through the greyish ash and pumice nearly to the edge of the lake.No one spoke, it was as if they were too much stricken by awe, as they gazed at this outlet of the earth’s inner fires, wondering at the way in which solid rock was turned by the intensity of the heat into a fluid which now in places they could see was in a state of ebullition, and formed rings flowing away from the boiling centre like so much water.Then, all at once, as if moved by the same set of nerves, they all turned and fled, for without the slightest warning, a part of the lake shot up some fifty feet in the air, like some great geyser, but instead of boiling water it was fluid rock of dazzling brightness even in the sunshine. Then it fell with a sound of hideous splashing, and as they turned to gaze back there was a little rising and falling, and then all was still once more, and the surface rapidly scummed over and grew silvery and dull.“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” cried Panton, breaking the silence as they stood watching the lake, and then, amid many expressions of wonder and awe at the grandness of the scene, they began to make their way along the well-defined rim of the crater. But slowly, for inside there was not a level space, all being a chaos of riven and scattered masses of slag, obsidian, and scoria, ragged, sharp and in part glazed by the fluid rock.“It aren’t what I thought it would be, Mr Oliver Lane, sir,” said Smith, scraping the perspiration from his face with a thin piece of the obsidian which he had picked up, while Wriggs followed his example for a few moments and then threw his piece down.“What did you expect?” said Oliver.“On’y a big hole, sir, running right down into the middle o’ the world; and I thought we should be able to see into the works.”“Works! What works, man!” said Oliver, smiling.“Why, them as makes the world turn round; for it do turn round, don’t it?”“Of course, but not from any cause within.”“I say, Tommy, mind what yer at with that there bit o’ stuff,” growled Wriggs.“Why?”“It’s sharp as ragers. I’ve cut my cheek.”“Sarve yer right for being so clumsy. You should use it like this here.”“Well, I did, matey.”“I’m blest!” cried Smith, throwing down the piece of volcanic glass, and dabbing at his nose, whose side was bleeding slightly.“Cut yoursen?”“Ay: didn’t know it was so sharp as that.”Wriggs chuckled heartily, and the little party moved on as well as they could for the great fissures about the rim, some of which went down into profound depths, from whence rose up strange hissings and whisperings of escaping gases, and breathings of intensely hot air.There was so much to see, that they would willingly have gone on trying to follow the edge all round, but before long they had warnings that the whole of one side was impassable from the vapours rising from the various fuming rifts, and that it would be madness to proceed; and at last as Panton was pressing his friends to persevere for a few yards farther, they had what Smith called “notice to quit,” in a change of the wind that wafted a scorching heat toward them, which, had they not fled over the side and down the outer slope for a short distance, would have proved fatal.It was only temporary, though, for the fresh cool air came again, and they stopped, hesitating about returning.“We ought to have thought of it sooner,” said Panton.“Never mind, I’ll climb back to yonder,” said Oliver, pointing. “That seems to be the highest point. Come with me, Smith,” and he began to climb the ascent once more, closely followed by the sailor.“Whatcher going to do, sir?” cried the man, as Oliver took out what seemed to be a good-sized gold watch.“You’ll soon see,” replied Oliver, as he toiled upward.“But can’t yer see what’s o’clock down where they is, sir, just as well as up yonder?”Oliver laughed, and kept on making for a conical rock needle, evidently the remaining portion of a mass of the crater edge when it was fifty feet or so higher, and being wider had remained, when other portions were blasted away by the terrific explosions which had occurred.“Yer not going to climb up atop there, are yer, sir?” said Smith.“Yes, you stay below,” said Oliver. Finding that, as he had expected, it was an intensely hard miniature mountain of vitrified scoria, and tolerably easy of ascent, he began to climb.“He aren’t my orsifer,” muttered Smith, “and I shan’t stop back. I should look well if he had an accident. So here goes.”As Oliver mounted, he climbed after him, till they stood together, right on the conical pinnacle, with only just room for them to remain erect, the great boiling crater below on one side, the glorious view of the fairy-like isle, with its ring of foam around, and the vivid blue lagoon, circling the emerald green of the coast. There it all was stretched out with glorious clearness, and so exquisite, that for a few moments Oliver was entranced.Then the fairy-like vision became commonplace, and Oliver started back to everyday life, for Smith said gruffly,—“Better see what’s o’clock, and come down, sir, for that there big pot’s a-going to boil over again.”Even as he spoke there was a roar, a great gush upward of fiery fluid, and a sensation of intense heat, while the pinnacle upon which they stood literally rocked and threatened to fall.“Quick! get down,” said Oliver, taking out the watch-like object once more, glancing at it, and then replacing it in his vest.“Comin’ too, sir?”“Yes, all right; five thousand nine hundred feet.”Smith stared, but went on descending, followed by Oliver, while the glow shed upon them was for a few moments unbearable. Then the huge fountain of molten rock ceased playing, the glow scorched them no longer, and they scrambled and slid down in safety to where their friends were waiting, and commenced their descent after taking their bearings as well as they could.“What did you make it?”“Just over five thousand nine hundred.”“And we’ve got nearly all that distance to go down,” said Drew. “I’m tired already.”But there was no help for it, and they toiled on down among the crevices in safety, and finally reached the brig, but not till close upon midnight, rejoicing, in spite of their weariness, upon a great feat achieved.“But it caps me, that it do,” said Smith in the forecastle.“What does?”“Why, for that Mr Oliver Lane. I knows as we say they gents has got tools for everything, but I never knowed as there was watches made as could tell yer the time and how high up yer are all at once. Well, there is, and I see it all, and it’s quite right. I mean to have one of them watches, and I asked Mr Oliver Lane about ’em. He says you can buy ’em in London for thrippenten apiece, and I think he says as they was made by a woman, Mrs Annie Royd, but I aren’t quite sure.”“But yer can’t afford to give thrippenten for one of they things,” growled Wriggs.“How do you know, matey? Mebbe I can, my lad.”“What yer want it for?”“See how high yer are up when yer climbs mountains. I mean to say it would be grand.”“Ah, well, I don’t want one o’ them,” said Wriggs, thoughtfully.“What do you want, then?”“One o’ them things as yer looks through into a drop a’ water and sees as what yer drinks is all alive.”“Not you,” said Smith, contemptuously; “what you wants is plenty more water in big tanks in our hold, and if I was Mr Rimmer, cap’en of this here ship, I should make some, and keep ’em full.”“What for? Swimmin’ baths?”“Swimmin’ great-grandmothers,” growled Smith, contemptuously. “No, my lad, I’ve got a sort o’ sentiment as one o’ these days the niggers’ll come and catch us on the hop, and if so be as they do, and we keep ’em from gettin’ in here, do you know what it’ll be?”“Stickin’ knives and harrers in us, if they can.”“No,” said Smith, laying his hand upon his companion’s shoulder and placing his lips to his ear, with the result that Wriggs started away with his face looking of an unpleasant clay colour.“Think so, mate?” he gasped.“Ay, that I do, Billy. They will as sure as a gun.” Oddly enough, just about the same time as the two sailors were holding this conversation, a chat was going on in the cabin respecting the lugger and how to get her launched. Like Smith, the mate seemed to be suffering from a “sentiment,” and he was talking very seriously.“I did not see it before,” he said, “but it all shows what noodles we are when we think ourselves most clever.”“Interpret,” said Panton; “your words are too obscure.”“I mean about the lugger,” said the mate. “I went well all over it in my mind before I began her, and saw that it would be much easier to build her here where everything was handy than to carry the materials down to the edge of the lagoon.”“Of course,” said Oliver. “That would have been very awkward, for the men would have had to go to and fro morning and evening.”“But,” said Panton, “a hut might have been run up for them to sleep in.”“Which means dividing a force already too weak. If the blacks make another serious attack upon us we shall have enough to do to hold our own here together, without having part of us defending a flimsy hut, which they would serve at once as they will us here if we don’t take very great care.”“Eh? How?” said Oliver, startled by the mate’s manner.“Burn us out as sure as we’re alive.”
Mr Rimmer gave way, and a few days after an expedition was made to try once more to mount right up to the mouth of the crater. Taking advantage of what had been learned in former expeditions, the little party followed their last plan, rowed beyond the poisonous mist, landed, and after securing the boat as before, they made for the old camp, reached it and spent a delightful evening watching the faint glow upon the cloud which hovered over the mouth of the crater, and then gazed at the scintillating fire-flies, which upon this occasion made the low growth at the edge of the forest below them alive with sparkling lights.
Long before daylight they were on their way, with the air feeling cold and numbing as they climbed the loose ash and cinders which formed the slope. The great cracks in the mountain-side were successfully passed, and by sunrise they were high enough up to get a glorious view over the island, while a couple of hours after, a point was reached which enabled them to trace the greater part of the coast line and learn by the barrier reef with its white foam that without doubt they were upon an island.
“Now, then,” cried Panton, after a brief halt for refreshment, “how long do you say it will take us?”
“Two hours,” said Oliver, gazing up at the remainder of the slope, and thinking of how quiescent the volcano was: for save an occasional trembling or vibration under foot, all seemed still.
“One hour at the most,” said Drew. “Come on.”
“I say the same,” cried Panton. “Come on.”
Oliver proved to be nearest as to time, for they all referred to their watches when the above words were spoken, and again, when, after a long weary scramble over the yielding ashes, from which came breathings of hot, stifling air.
“Two hours, forty minutes,” cried Drew. “I couldn’t have thought it.”
The hot, gaseous emanations had really seemed to be like breathings, and as they neared the top, they were conscious, as they paused again and again, of the mountain seeming to pant and utter sounds like weary sighs.
As they mounted higher, the heat began to grow suffocating, and it was at last so bad that Smith and Wriggs pulled up short and looked hard at their leaders.
“Well?” cried Oliver.
“Think it safe to go any furder, sir?” said Smith.
“Safe or no, we mean to get to the top now we’ve mounted so high. Why do you ask? Want to stop?”
“Well, sir, you see Billy Wriggs been thinking for some time as it was getting werry dangerous, and he’d like to go down.”
“Speak the truth, Tommy, speak the truth,” growled Wriggs.
“Why, I am speaking the truth, Billy,” cried Smith, in angry remonstrance. “Didn’t you say over and over again as it was werry dangerous?”
“Nay, I said it was dangerous, I didn’t say werry.”
“Oh, well, that’s nigh enough for me, messmate.”
“You two had better stay here while we go to the top,” said Oliver, quietly. “Ready, you others?”
“Yes,” said Panton. “Forward,” and they started upward again, but stopped directly, for the two sailors were trudging up close behind them.
“I thought you two were going to stop back,” cried Oliver.
“Not me,” said Smith. “Billy Wriggs can, if he likes.”
“What?” cried the latter, “and let you get puffin’ and blowin’ about havin’ done my dags. Not me, Tommy, old man. I’m a-goin’ right up to the top, and I’ll go as far inside as he will, gen’lemen.”
“Come along, then,” cried Oliver, and the slow trudge, trudge was resumed in zig-zags, till Smith halted once more, and stood wiping his steaming face.
“Beg pardon, sir,” he said, “but if you look uppards, you can see as the smoke hangs over toward us.”
“Yes, what of that?” said Oliver.
“Well, that means wind, though we can’t feel none. Wouldn’t it be best, ’stead o’ doublin’ back, if we was to go right on now, so as to get higher and higher, and more round to windward?”
“I’m afraid that it will be the same all about the mouth of the crater,” said Panton, “but we’ll try.”
It was a simple expedient that they ought to have thought of before, and Smith proved to be correct, for as they wound on slowly upwards the heat grew greater, but they began to be aware of soft puffs of wind, and at the end of another half-hour, they had climbed to where a steady soft current of cool air blew against them. This made the final part of the toilsome ascent so bearable that as they reached a glistening vitreous stream of greyish hue which looked as if the crater had brimmed over and poured down this molten matter, Oliver leaped upon it and ran for a couple of hundred yards. Then he disappeared suddenly, and horrified the rest, who followed as fast as they could go.
But there was no cause of alarm. As they reached the top of the slope there stood their companion some twenty feet below them on the rugged, jagged and fissured slope of the crater gazing down at a dull glistening lake of molten matter, but so covered with a grey scum that it was only from time to time that a crack appeared, out of which darted a glare so bright that it was visible in the full sunshine, while a tremendous glow struck upon their faces, making their eyes smart as they gazed at the transparent quivering gas which rose up from the molten mass.
A stronger breeze was blowing here, bearing the heat away, otherwise it would have been unbearable, and they made their way on the chaos of cindery rock which lay about in blocks riven and split in every form, some glazed by the glass of the mighty natural furnace, some of a clear vesicular silvery grey, while a hundred yards or so distant and about fifty lower than where they stood, the lake of molten matter lay about circular and apparently half a mile across. The rim of the gigantic cup which from below had looked so regular was now seen to be broken into a thousand cracks and crevices, some going right down through the greyish ash and pumice nearly to the edge of the lake.
No one spoke, it was as if they were too much stricken by awe, as they gazed at this outlet of the earth’s inner fires, wondering at the way in which solid rock was turned by the intensity of the heat into a fluid which now in places they could see was in a state of ebullition, and formed rings flowing away from the boiling centre like so much water.
Then, all at once, as if moved by the same set of nerves, they all turned and fled, for without the slightest warning, a part of the lake shot up some fifty feet in the air, like some great geyser, but instead of boiling water it was fluid rock of dazzling brightness even in the sunshine. Then it fell with a sound of hideous splashing, and as they turned to gaze back there was a little rising and falling, and then all was still once more, and the surface rapidly scummed over and grew silvery and dull.
“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” cried Panton, breaking the silence as they stood watching the lake, and then, amid many expressions of wonder and awe at the grandness of the scene, they began to make their way along the well-defined rim of the crater. But slowly, for inside there was not a level space, all being a chaos of riven and scattered masses of slag, obsidian, and scoria, ragged, sharp and in part glazed by the fluid rock.
“It aren’t what I thought it would be, Mr Oliver Lane, sir,” said Smith, scraping the perspiration from his face with a thin piece of the obsidian which he had picked up, while Wriggs followed his example for a few moments and then threw his piece down.
“What did you expect?” said Oliver.
“On’y a big hole, sir, running right down into the middle o’ the world; and I thought we should be able to see into the works.”
“Works! What works, man!” said Oliver, smiling.
“Why, them as makes the world turn round; for it do turn round, don’t it?”
“Of course, but not from any cause within.”
“I say, Tommy, mind what yer at with that there bit o’ stuff,” growled Wriggs.
“Why?”
“It’s sharp as ragers. I’ve cut my cheek.”
“Sarve yer right for being so clumsy. You should use it like this here.”
“Well, I did, matey.”
“I’m blest!” cried Smith, throwing down the piece of volcanic glass, and dabbing at his nose, whose side was bleeding slightly.
“Cut yoursen?”
“Ay: didn’t know it was so sharp as that.”
Wriggs chuckled heartily, and the little party moved on as well as they could for the great fissures about the rim, some of which went down into profound depths, from whence rose up strange hissings and whisperings of escaping gases, and breathings of intensely hot air.
There was so much to see, that they would willingly have gone on trying to follow the edge all round, but before long they had warnings that the whole of one side was impassable from the vapours rising from the various fuming rifts, and that it would be madness to proceed; and at last as Panton was pressing his friends to persevere for a few yards farther, they had what Smith called “notice to quit,” in a change of the wind that wafted a scorching heat toward them, which, had they not fled over the side and down the outer slope for a short distance, would have proved fatal.
It was only temporary, though, for the fresh cool air came again, and they stopped, hesitating about returning.
“We ought to have thought of it sooner,” said Panton.
“Never mind, I’ll climb back to yonder,” said Oliver, pointing. “That seems to be the highest point. Come with me, Smith,” and he began to climb the ascent once more, closely followed by the sailor.
“Whatcher going to do, sir?” cried the man, as Oliver took out what seemed to be a good-sized gold watch.
“You’ll soon see,” replied Oliver, as he toiled upward.
“But can’t yer see what’s o’clock down where they is, sir, just as well as up yonder?”
Oliver laughed, and kept on making for a conical rock needle, evidently the remaining portion of a mass of the crater edge when it was fifty feet or so higher, and being wider had remained, when other portions were blasted away by the terrific explosions which had occurred.
“Yer not going to climb up atop there, are yer, sir?” said Smith.
“Yes, you stay below,” said Oliver. Finding that, as he had expected, it was an intensely hard miniature mountain of vitrified scoria, and tolerably easy of ascent, he began to climb.
“He aren’t my orsifer,” muttered Smith, “and I shan’t stop back. I should look well if he had an accident. So here goes.”
As Oliver mounted, he climbed after him, till they stood together, right on the conical pinnacle, with only just room for them to remain erect, the great boiling crater below on one side, the glorious view of the fairy-like isle, with its ring of foam around, and the vivid blue lagoon, circling the emerald green of the coast. There it all was stretched out with glorious clearness, and so exquisite, that for a few moments Oliver was entranced.
Then the fairy-like vision became commonplace, and Oliver started back to everyday life, for Smith said gruffly,—
“Better see what’s o’clock, and come down, sir, for that there big pot’s a-going to boil over again.”
Even as he spoke there was a roar, a great gush upward of fiery fluid, and a sensation of intense heat, while the pinnacle upon which they stood literally rocked and threatened to fall.
“Quick! get down,” said Oliver, taking out the watch-like object once more, glancing at it, and then replacing it in his vest.
“Comin’ too, sir?”
“Yes, all right; five thousand nine hundred feet.”
Smith stared, but went on descending, followed by Oliver, while the glow shed upon them was for a few moments unbearable. Then the huge fountain of molten rock ceased playing, the glow scorched them no longer, and they scrambled and slid down in safety to where their friends were waiting, and commenced their descent after taking their bearings as well as they could.
“What did you make it?”
“Just over five thousand nine hundred.”
“And we’ve got nearly all that distance to go down,” said Drew. “I’m tired already.”
But there was no help for it, and they toiled on down among the crevices in safety, and finally reached the brig, but not till close upon midnight, rejoicing, in spite of their weariness, upon a great feat achieved.
“But it caps me, that it do,” said Smith in the forecastle.
“What does?”
“Why, for that Mr Oliver Lane. I knows as we say they gents has got tools for everything, but I never knowed as there was watches made as could tell yer the time and how high up yer are all at once. Well, there is, and I see it all, and it’s quite right. I mean to have one of them watches, and I asked Mr Oliver Lane about ’em. He says you can buy ’em in London for thrippenten apiece, and I think he says as they was made by a woman, Mrs Annie Royd, but I aren’t quite sure.”
“But yer can’t afford to give thrippenten for one of they things,” growled Wriggs.
“How do you know, matey? Mebbe I can, my lad.”
“What yer want it for?”
“See how high yer are up when yer climbs mountains. I mean to say it would be grand.”
“Ah, well, I don’t want one o’ them,” said Wriggs, thoughtfully.
“What do you want, then?”
“One o’ them things as yer looks through into a drop a’ water and sees as what yer drinks is all alive.”
“Not you,” said Smith, contemptuously; “what you wants is plenty more water in big tanks in our hold, and if I was Mr Rimmer, cap’en of this here ship, I should make some, and keep ’em full.”
“What for? Swimmin’ baths?”
“Swimmin’ great-grandmothers,” growled Smith, contemptuously. “No, my lad, I’ve got a sort o’ sentiment as one o’ these days the niggers’ll come and catch us on the hop, and if so be as they do, and we keep ’em from gettin’ in here, do you know what it’ll be?”
“Stickin’ knives and harrers in us, if they can.”
“No,” said Smith, laying his hand upon his companion’s shoulder and placing his lips to his ear, with the result that Wriggs started away with his face looking of an unpleasant clay colour.
“Think so, mate?” he gasped.
“Ay, that I do, Billy. They will as sure as a gun.” Oddly enough, just about the same time as the two sailors were holding this conversation, a chat was going on in the cabin respecting the lugger and how to get her launched. Like Smith, the mate seemed to be suffering from a “sentiment,” and he was talking very seriously.
“I did not see it before,” he said, “but it all shows what noodles we are when we think ourselves most clever.”
“Interpret,” said Panton; “your words are too obscure.”
“I mean about the lugger,” said the mate. “I went well all over it in my mind before I began her, and saw that it would be much easier to build her here where everything was handy than to carry the materials down to the edge of the lagoon.”
“Of course,” said Oliver. “That would have been very awkward, for the men would have had to go to and fro morning and evening.”
“But,” said Panton, “a hut might have been run up for them to sleep in.”
“Which means dividing a force already too weak. If the blacks make another serious attack upon us we shall have enough to do to hold our own here together, without having part of us defending a flimsy hut, which they would serve at once as they will us here if we don’t take very great care.”
“Eh? How?” said Oliver, startled by the mate’s manner.
“Burn us out as sure as we’re alive.”
Chapter Forty Six.A Novel Launch.The idea was revived again by the mate.“That’s a pleasant way of looking at things,” said Panton.“Horrible!” exclaimed Drew, with a shiver.“Yes, we’ve had enough of fire from the volcano,” said Oliver, with a glance in its direction, forgetting as he did that it was invisible from their side of the mist.“We have, gentlemen,” said the mate, “but that will be their plan. We may beat them off times enough, but so sure as they set thoroughly to work to burn us out, we’re done for, sir.”“You think so?”“No, I don’t think. We’re as inflammable as can be, and they’ve only got to bring plenty of dry, fierce, burning wood and pile it up, and there we are as soon as they set light to it. They can have a good feast then.”“What?” cried Drew.“Feast, sir. There’ll be plenty of roast men done to a turn.”“Don’t!” cried Oliver. “You give me quite a turn.”The discussion arose one morning some weeks after the ascent to the crater, and when, after a tremendous amount of collecting, the three naturalists had owned that it was getting on toward the time for helping Mr Rimmer a little over the preparations for getting away from the island.“Really, Mr Rimmer,” Oliver said, “I am ashamed of my selfishness.”“Eh? What have you been doing selfish, my dear sir?” was the reply.“Thinking of nothing but my own pleasure.”“Pleasure, sir? Why, I haven’t seen you playing any games but a bit or two of chess with Mr Panton.”“I mean in thinking of nothing else but my collecting.”“Why, that was your work, sir.”“It is a pleasure to me, and I have thought of nothing else.”“And quite right too, my lad. You came out on purpose to make a collection, didn’t you?”“Well, yes.”“And you’ve made a splendid one, sir. I never saw such birds and butterflies and beetles before, let along the snakes and things.”“Yes, I have been grandly successful,” said Oliver; “certainly.”“And so have your friends. You’re satisfied, I hope, Mr Panton?”“More than satisfied,” cried that gentleman. “I’ve a wonderful collection of minerals, and I’ve picked up some grand facts on volcanic and coral formation.”“Oh, yes,” cried Drew. “I’m satisfied, too. I’m only afraid that you’ll have to build another boat to carry my specimens.”“All right, we’ll build one if it’s necessary, but we’ve got to tackle this one first. Everything’s done that can be done before she’s in the water. No likelihood of another earthquake wave, is there, sir?”“There might be one at any time,” said Panton; “but it might be five hundred years.”“And it would be tiresome to wait as long as that, eh, sir?” said the mate, with a droll twinkle of the eye.“Yes, you’d better get her down to the sea first. What do you mean to do?”“Begin to-morrow morning, gentlemen; and if you would be so good as to let the birds and stones and flowers alone now, and help me till we get theLittle Planetafloat, I should be obliged.”“You know we’ll all do our best, Mr Rimmer,” said Panton. “You’ve helped us whenever we have hinted at wanting a hand.”“Why, of course, sir, of course,” said the mate, interrupting the speaker. “It’s all right: turn for turn.”“But why not begin to-day?” said Oliver.“To be sure,” said the others.“I didn’t want to be hard upon you, gentlemen, and so I thought I’d give you a day’s notice, but if you would all tackle to at once, why, I should be glad.”“Then as far as we’re concerned,” said Oliver, “the lugger’s launched.”“Thank you, gentlemen, all of you,” said the mate; and then drily, “but I don’t think we shall get her in the water to-day.”There was a hearty laugh at this, but they were all serious directly, and the question of the launching was taken up.“Two miles to the lagoon,” said Oliver; “it’s a long way.”“Yes, sir, but every foot we get her along, will be one less.”“Of course,” said Oliver. “And do you think your plans will work?”“I hope so, sir. We’ll give them a good try first, before we start upon another.”They went down over the side and stood directly after examining the lines of the well-made little vessel, which was about the size of a Cornish fishing boat, and now that the greater part of the supports had been knocked away, and she could be seen in all her regularity, compliments were freely given to her builder and architect.“Well, I’m not ashamed of her, gentlemen,” said the mate. “All I’m afraid of is that we shall weaken her a bit in hauling her along over the runners.”“Have you got your runners made?” said Drew.“Have I got my runners made, sir?” said the mate with a chuckle. “I’ve got everything ready, grease and all for making ’em slippery, and under her keel a bit of iron as smooth as if it had been polished. Look here!”He pointed out the curve and finish of the keel, which was so contrived that the vessel was quite on the balance, and a couple of men could easily rock her up and down, while to keep her straight and prevent her lopping over to one side or the other, an ingenious kind of outrigger had been contrived out of a couple of yards, which rested on the ground, and were kept there about four feet from the keel. These two were well pointed and curved up a little in front, and gave the lugger the appearance of riding in a sledge-like cradle.Moreover, a capstan had been rigged up, half a cable’s length away, and as soon as a rope had been attached to a hole low down close to the keel, word was given, the capstan was manned, the sailors gave a cheer as the stout cable secured low down beneath the lugger’s bows gradually tightened, strained, and stretched, quivering in the bright morning sunshine, but the vessel did not move. Then a halt was called while the mate re-examined the well-greased runners, and then gave the word for the men to ply their capstan bars once more.But still she did not move, and a despairing look began to gather upon the mate’s brow, till Smith sidled up to Oliver and said,—“I’ve jest whispered to Billy Wriggs to go round t’other side, sir, along o’ Mr Panton, and if you and me and Master Drew was to do the same here, I dessay we could start her.”“Yes, what are you going to do?” asked Oliver.“Just ketch hold here, sir, and we’ll give her a bit of a rock. Once she’s started, away she goes.”As the sailor spoke, he took hold of the yard rigged out on one side to keep the lugger upright, the others did the same on the other side, and as the cable was tightened once more with a jerk, which gave forth a musical deep bass twang, Smith shouted, “All together!” and with his companions, he began to give the hull a gentle rocking movement from side to side.Then a tremendous cheer arose, and as every man tugged and strained, the vessel began to move, so little that it was almost imperceptible, and Oliver’s heart sank at the thought of two miles to go at that rate; but in less than a minute, as she was rocked a little more, she gained momentum, the men at the capstan strained and cheered, and away she went, slowly and steadily, on and on the whole half cable’s length.“Now right up to the capstan,” cried solemn, heavy-looking Wriggs; and as she came to a stand, and the men took out their bars and began cheering again in the glorious sunshine, with the coral rock and sand reflecting the brilliant light, and the rapid tropic growth glowing in its most vivid golden green, the rough sailor took off his straw hat, dashed it down upon the ground, screwed up his face into the most severe of frowns, folding his arms tightly across his chest, he gave a kind of trot round to form a circle, and then turned into the middle, stopped for a moment, gave three stamps and a nod to an imaginary fiddler, and started off in the regular sailor’s hornpipe, dancing lightly and well, but as seriously as if his life depended upon the accuracy of his steps.“Hooroar! Brayvo, Billy!” yelled Smith, bending down and beginning to keep time by giving a succession of ringing slaps on his right thigh, and in an instant the whole crew joined in slapping and cheering, while the mate and his passengers joined in the hearty laugh.“Go it, lad!” “Brayvo, Billy!” “Lay it down, lad!” came in a rugged chorus, and Wriggs danced on with wonderful skill and lightness, putting in all the regular pulling and hauling business right to the very end, which was achieved with the most intense solemnity of manner, amid tremendous applause.“Capstan!” he shouted as he stopped, and then he was the first to begin loosening the piece of mechanism which had to be taken up and refixed strongly with block and stay a whole cable’s length, this time farther on towards the sea.“Slow work,” said the mate, as he turned from superintending to wipe his face and give his companions a nod full of satisfaction; “but we’re half a cable’s length nearer the lagoon, and if we only did that every day, we should get her afloat in time.”“It’s grand,” cried Oliver, whose face was streaming from his exertions. “I feel quite hopeful now.”“Hopeful? Yes,” cried Panton. “We shall do it.”“If we are not interrupted,” said Drew.“If we are,” said the mate, “we must make a fight for it. There’s the watch up in the top to give us warning, and the arms all lie ready. At the first alarm everyone will make for the brig’s deck, and I daresay we shall beat our visitors off.”“But when we get farther away?” said Drew.“Don’t let’s meet troubles before they’re half way,” said the mate, smiling. “Perhaps the blacks may never come again. Let’s hope not.”“Amen,” said Panton, and then everything was forgotten in the business on hand, all trusting to the careful watch kept from the brig, and working like slaves to get the capstan fixed to the bars driven in between crevices in the bed rock, while stays were fixed to blocks of coral, which lay here and there as they had been swept by the earthquake wave.The consequence was, that by noon, when the great heat had produced exhaustion, the capstan had been moved three times, and, thanks to the level ground, the lugger had glided steadily nearly as many cables’ lengths nearer the sea.“Do it?” cried the mate, suddenly, as they sat resting and waiting till the men had finished their mid-day meal. “Of course we shall do it.”“Well,” said Oliver, laughing, “no one said we shouldn’t.”“No,” said the mate, “but someone might have thought so.”“Why, you thought so yourself, Mr Rimmer,” cried Panton, merrily.“Yes, I suppose I have been a bit down-hearted about getting her to sea, and it has made me slow over the finishing. But after the way you gentlemen have buckled to, it goes as easy as can be.”“How long do you reckon we shall be?” asked Drew.“Getting her down, sir? Well, I used to say to myself, if we can manage it in two months I shall be satisfied, but I’m beginning to think about one now.”“Why, we shall do it in a week,” cried Oliver.“A week?” cried the others.“Well, why not? If we go on as steadily this afternoon and evening as we have this morning, we shall manage to get her along a quarter of a mile, and that’s an eighth part of the distance.”“We shall see,” said the mate. “We have had all plain sailing so far.”“Yes, but the men get every time more accustomed to the work,” said Drew, “and we ought to do more some days.”“Of course,” said Panton. “My anxiety is about the blacks.”Work was resumed then, and by dark they all had the satisfaction of feeling that fully five hundred yards of the long portage had been got over, and, as Oliver said, there was no reason whatever why they should not get on quite as far day by day.There were plenty of rejoicings there that night—“high jinks,” Smith called them—but by daylight next morning every man was in his place, and the lugger began to move again.And so matters went on day after day, in a regular, uneventful way. There were tremblings of the earth beneath them, and now and then a sharp cracking, tearing sound, as if some portion of the rocky bed below was splitting suddenly open.At times, too, a heavy report was heard from the direction of the mountain, generally followed by the flight of birds, making in alarm for the south, or the appearance of some little herd of deer, but these matters, like the lurid glow which shone nightly in the clouds above the volcano, had grown so familiar that they ceased to command much attention, and the work went steadily on.It had to be checked, though, from time to time, for there were occasions when difficulties arose as to the proper fixing of the capstan from the want of hold in the rock, or the failing of blocks to which ropes could be secured, necessitating the driving down of crowbars into some crack in the stone.At these times, when Mr Rimmer knew almost at a glance that some hours must elapse before the half-dozen for whom there was room to work would complete their task, advantage was taken of the opportunity for a hunting expedition in the nearest patch of forest, or for a party to go down to the lagoon, cross it to the reef, and spend the time with better or worse luck fishing with lines, or collecting the abundant molluscs which formed a dainty addition to their food.And at last, a month of exactly four weeks from the day they began, the lugger stood up near to the end of the two-mile land voyage, close to the sands, with the cocoa-nut grove beginning on either side, just at the edge of the land which had not been swept by the earthquake wave.That afternoon there was a desperate fight with the soft, yielding sand, into which the well-worn bearers and blocks used under the lugger’s keel kept on sinking so deeply that it seemed as if fresh means must be contrived for getting the boat quite to the water’s edge.“I’m about done,” said Mr Rimmer, as he stood with a huge mallet in his hand; “this sand gives way directly. We shall have to get her back and make for the cocoa-nut trees, but I doubt whether they will bear the strain if we get a cable and blocks at work.”“But look here,” said Oliver, “I’m not a sailor, but it seems to me—”He stopped short, and Mr Rimmer looked at him smiling, but Oliver remained silent.“He thinks it would be a good plan to put some preserving soap on the lugger,” said Panton laughing.“No, I don’t,” said Oliver, “but I was thinking that it would not be a bad plan to drag the brig’s anchor down here, and get it out in the lagoon, and then fix up the capstan on board the lugger and work it there.”“No,” said the mate, “it would drag her bows down and wedge her more fast.”“I had not done,” said Oliver.“Well, what would you do then?” asked the mate.“Dig a trench just a little wider than the keel, right away down to the shore, and let the water in at high tide.”“It would all soak away.”“At first,” said Oliver. “After a time it would be half sand, half water, and yielding enough to let the keel go through like a quicksand.”“He’s right,” cried Mr Rimmer, and the men set to work spending two whole days digging what resembled a pretty good ditch in the sand, and leading from the embedded keel right out nearly to the edge of the water.While this was going on one of the brig’s anchors was lowered down into the dinghy and laid across a couple of pieces of wood, then, with a couple of planks for the keel to run upon, each being taken up in turn and laid end on to the other, the anchor was got right down to the lagoon, dropped about fifty yards out after being attached to a cable, another was knotted on to this, and again another to the last, and carried through the lugger’s bows to where the capstan was fixed.At high tide the little remaining sand was rapidly dug away, and the water began to flow in; the capstan was manned, and a burst of cheering rose; for as fast as the bars could be worked and the cables in turn coiled down, the new boat was drawn through the sand and out till she was head over the anchor, with a clear foot below her keel.“You’d better take command, Mr Lane,” said the mate, shaking hands warmly. “I ought to have thought of that, but it was beyond me. There we are, then. Now, all we have to do is to load her up with your treasures and plenty of stores, and then make for some other island, and from one to the other until we can get to a civilised port.”“Why not make another lugger, so as to have everything you can belonging to thePlanet?”“And give you gentlemen more time to collect?”“Exactly.”“Well, I don’t see why not,” said the mate, thoughtfully. “It grieves me to have the good old vessel stranded here with no end of valuable stuff in her; and now that we shall soon have the means of getting away when we like, I think I might as well set the men to work at another.”“But you’ll get the rigging and stores on board this one first,” said Panton.“Of course,” replied the mate; “but there is another thing to think of, gentlemen.”The others looked at him inquiringly.“When this boat is ready and properly laden, she cannot be left without a crew on board.”“On account of the blacks,” cried Oliver. “No, it is impossible for her to be left.”
The idea was revived again by the mate.
“That’s a pleasant way of looking at things,” said Panton.
“Horrible!” exclaimed Drew, with a shiver.
“Yes, we’ve had enough of fire from the volcano,” said Oliver, with a glance in its direction, forgetting as he did that it was invisible from their side of the mist.
“We have, gentlemen,” said the mate, “but that will be their plan. We may beat them off times enough, but so sure as they set thoroughly to work to burn us out, we’re done for, sir.”
“You think so?”
“No, I don’t think. We’re as inflammable as can be, and they’ve only got to bring plenty of dry, fierce, burning wood and pile it up, and there we are as soon as they set light to it. They can have a good feast then.”
“What?” cried Drew.
“Feast, sir. There’ll be plenty of roast men done to a turn.”
“Don’t!” cried Oliver. “You give me quite a turn.”
The discussion arose one morning some weeks after the ascent to the crater, and when, after a tremendous amount of collecting, the three naturalists had owned that it was getting on toward the time for helping Mr Rimmer a little over the preparations for getting away from the island.
“Really, Mr Rimmer,” Oliver said, “I am ashamed of my selfishness.”
“Eh? What have you been doing selfish, my dear sir?” was the reply.
“Thinking of nothing but my own pleasure.”
“Pleasure, sir? Why, I haven’t seen you playing any games but a bit or two of chess with Mr Panton.”
“I mean in thinking of nothing else but my collecting.”
“Why, that was your work, sir.”
“It is a pleasure to me, and I have thought of nothing else.”
“And quite right too, my lad. You came out on purpose to make a collection, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes.”
“And you’ve made a splendid one, sir. I never saw such birds and butterflies and beetles before, let along the snakes and things.”
“Yes, I have been grandly successful,” said Oliver; “certainly.”
“And so have your friends. You’re satisfied, I hope, Mr Panton?”
“More than satisfied,” cried that gentleman. “I’ve a wonderful collection of minerals, and I’ve picked up some grand facts on volcanic and coral formation.”
“Oh, yes,” cried Drew. “I’m satisfied, too. I’m only afraid that you’ll have to build another boat to carry my specimens.”
“All right, we’ll build one if it’s necessary, but we’ve got to tackle this one first. Everything’s done that can be done before she’s in the water. No likelihood of another earthquake wave, is there, sir?”
“There might be one at any time,” said Panton; “but it might be five hundred years.”
“And it would be tiresome to wait as long as that, eh, sir?” said the mate, with a droll twinkle of the eye.
“Yes, you’d better get her down to the sea first. What do you mean to do?”
“Begin to-morrow morning, gentlemen; and if you would be so good as to let the birds and stones and flowers alone now, and help me till we get theLittle Planetafloat, I should be obliged.”
“You know we’ll all do our best, Mr Rimmer,” said Panton. “You’ve helped us whenever we have hinted at wanting a hand.”
“Why, of course, sir, of course,” said the mate, interrupting the speaker. “It’s all right: turn for turn.”
“But why not begin to-day?” said Oliver.
“To be sure,” said the others.
“I didn’t want to be hard upon you, gentlemen, and so I thought I’d give you a day’s notice, but if you would all tackle to at once, why, I should be glad.”
“Then as far as we’re concerned,” said Oliver, “the lugger’s launched.”
“Thank you, gentlemen, all of you,” said the mate; and then drily, “but I don’t think we shall get her in the water to-day.”
There was a hearty laugh at this, but they were all serious directly, and the question of the launching was taken up.
“Two miles to the lagoon,” said Oliver; “it’s a long way.”
“Yes, sir, but every foot we get her along, will be one less.”
“Of course,” said Oliver. “And do you think your plans will work?”
“I hope so, sir. We’ll give them a good try first, before we start upon another.”
They went down over the side and stood directly after examining the lines of the well-made little vessel, which was about the size of a Cornish fishing boat, and now that the greater part of the supports had been knocked away, and she could be seen in all her regularity, compliments were freely given to her builder and architect.
“Well, I’m not ashamed of her, gentlemen,” said the mate. “All I’m afraid of is that we shall weaken her a bit in hauling her along over the runners.”
“Have you got your runners made?” said Drew.
“Have I got my runners made, sir?” said the mate with a chuckle. “I’ve got everything ready, grease and all for making ’em slippery, and under her keel a bit of iron as smooth as if it had been polished. Look here!”
He pointed out the curve and finish of the keel, which was so contrived that the vessel was quite on the balance, and a couple of men could easily rock her up and down, while to keep her straight and prevent her lopping over to one side or the other, an ingenious kind of outrigger had been contrived out of a couple of yards, which rested on the ground, and were kept there about four feet from the keel. These two were well pointed and curved up a little in front, and gave the lugger the appearance of riding in a sledge-like cradle.
Moreover, a capstan had been rigged up, half a cable’s length away, and as soon as a rope had been attached to a hole low down close to the keel, word was given, the capstan was manned, the sailors gave a cheer as the stout cable secured low down beneath the lugger’s bows gradually tightened, strained, and stretched, quivering in the bright morning sunshine, but the vessel did not move. Then a halt was called while the mate re-examined the well-greased runners, and then gave the word for the men to ply their capstan bars once more.
But still she did not move, and a despairing look began to gather upon the mate’s brow, till Smith sidled up to Oliver and said,—
“I’ve jest whispered to Billy Wriggs to go round t’other side, sir, along o’ Mr Panton, and if you and me and Master Drew was to do the same here, I dessay we could start her.”
“Yes, what are you going to do?” asked Oliver.
“Just ketch hold here, sir, and we’ll give her a bit of a rock. Once she’s started, away she goes.”
As the sailor spoke, he took hold of the yard rigged out on one side to keep the lugger upright, the others did the same on the other side, and as the cable was tightened once more with a jerk, which gave forth a musical deep bass twang, Smith shouted, “All together!” and with his companions, he began to give the hull a gentle rocking movement from side to side.
Then a tremendous cheer arose, and as every man tugged and strained, the vessel began to move, so little that it was almost imperceptible, and Oliver’s heart sank at the thought of two miles to go at that rate; but in less than a minute, as she was rocked a little more, she gained momentum, the men at the capstan strained and cheered, and away she went, slowly and steadily, on and on the whole half cable’s length.
“Now right up to the capstan,” cried solemn, heavy-looking Wriggs; and as she came to a stand, and the men took out their bars and began cheering again in the glorious sunshine, with the coral rock and sand reflecting the brilliant light, and the rapid tropic growth glowing in its most vivid golden green, the rough sailor took off his straw hat, dashed it down upon the ground, screwed up his face into the most severe of frowns, folding his arms tightly across his chest, he gave a kind of trot round to form a circle, and then turned into the middle, stopped for a moment, gave three stamps and a nod to an imaginary fiddler, and started off in the regular sailor’s hornpipe, dancing lightly and well, but as seriously as if his life depended upon the accuracy of his steps.
“Hooroar! Brayvo, Billy!” yelled Smith, bending down and beginning to keep time by giving a succession of ringing slaps on his right thigh, and in an instant the whole crew joined in slapping and cheering, while the mate and his passengers joined in the hearty laugh.
“Go it, lad!” “Brayvo, Billy!” “Lay it down, lad!” came in a rugged chorus, and Wriggs danced on with wonderful skill and lightness, putting in all the regular pulling and hauling business right to the very end, which was achieved with the most intense solemnity of manner, amid tremendous applause.
“Capstan!” he shouted as he stopped, and then he was the first to begin loosening the piece of mechanism which had to be taken up and refixed strongly with block and stay a whole cable’s length, this time farther on towards the sea.
“Slow work,” said the mate, as he turned from superintending to wipe his face and give his companions a nod full of satisfaction; “but we’re half a cable’s length nearer the lagoon, and if we only did that every day, we should get her afloat in time.”
“It’s grand,” cried Oliver, whose face was streaming from his exertions. “I feel quite hopeful now.”
“Hopeful? Yes,” cried Panton. “We shall do it.”
“If we are not interrupted,” said Drew.
“If we are,” said the mate, “we must make a fight for it. There’s the watch up in the top to give us warning, and the arms all lie ready. At the first alarm everyone will make for the brig’s deck, and I daresay we shall beat our visitors off.”
“But when we get farther away?” said Drew.
“Don’t let’s meet troubles before they’re half way,” said the mate, smiling. “Perhaps the blacks may never come again. Let’s hope not.”
“Amen,” said Panton, and then everything was forgotten in the business on hand, all trusting to the careful watch kept from the brig, and working like slaves to get the capstan fixed to the bars driven in between crevices in the bed rock, while stays were fixed to blocks of coral, which lay here and there as they had been swept by the earthquake wave.
The consequence was, that by noon, when the great heat had produced exhaustion, the capstan had been moved three times, and, thanks to the level ground, the lugger had glided steadily nearly as many cables’ lengths nearer the sea.
“Do it?” cried the mate, suddenly, as they sat resting and waiting till the men had finished their mid-day meal. “Of course we shall do it.”
“Well,” said Oliver, laughing, “no one said we shouldn’t.”
“No,” said the mate, “but someone might have thought so.”
“Why, you thought so yourself, Mr Rimmer,” cried Panton, merrily.
“Yes, I suppose I have been a bit down-hearted about getting her to sea, and it has made me slow over the finishing. But after the way you gentlemen have buckled to, it goes as easy as can be.”
“How long do you reckon we shall be?” asked Drew.
“Getting her down, sir? Well, I used to say to myself, if we can manage it in two months I shall be satisfied, but I’m beginning to think about one now.”
“Why, we shall do it in a week,” cried Oliver.
“A week?” cried the others.
“Well, why not? If we go on as steadily this afternoon and evening as we have this morning, we shall manage to get her along a quarter of a mile, and that’s an eighth part of the distance.”
“We shall see,” said the mate. “We have had all plain sailing so far.”
“Yes, but the men get every time more accustomed to the work,” said Drew, “and we ought to do more some days.”
“Of course,” said Panton. “My anxiety is about the blacks.”
Work was resumed then, and by dark they all had the satisfaction of feeling that fully five hundred yards of the long portage had been got over, and, as Oliver said, there was no reason whatever why they should not get on quite as far day by day.
There were plenty of rejoicings there that night—“high jinks,” Smith called them—but by daylight next morning every man was in his place, and the lugger began to move again.
And so matters went on day after day, in a regular, uneventful way. There were tremblings of the earth beneath them, and now and then a sharp cracking, tearing sound, as if some portion of the rocky bed below was splitting suddenly open.
At times, too, a heavy report was heard from the direction of the mountain, generally followed by the flight of birds, making in alarm for the south, or the appearance of some little herd of deer, but these matters, like the lurid glow which shone nightly in the clouds above the volcano, had grown so familiar that they ceased to command much attention, and the work went steadily on.
It had to be checked, though, from time to time, for there were occasions when difficulties arose as to the proper fixing of the capstan from the want of hold in the rock, or the failing of blocks to which ropes could be secured, necessitating the driving down of crowbars into some crack in the stone.
At these times, when Mr Rimmer knew almost at a glance that some hours must elapse before the half-dozen for whom there was room to work would complete their task, advantage was taken of the opportunity for a hunting expedition in the nearest patch of forest, or for a party to go down to the lagoon, cross it to the reef, and spend the time with better or worse luck fishing with lines, or collecting the abundant molluscs which formed a dainty addition to their food.
And at last, a month of exactly four weeks from the day they began, the lugger stood up near to the end of the two-mile land voyage, close to the sands, with the cocoa-nut grove beginning on either side, just at the edge of the land which had not been swept by the earthquake wave.
That afternoon there was a desperate fight with the soft, yielding sand, into which the well-worn bearers and blocks used under the lugger’s keel kept on sinking so deeply that it seemed as if fresh means must be contrived for getting the boat quite to the water’s edge.
“I’m about done,” said Mr Rimmer, as he stood with a huge mallet in his hand; “this sand gives way directly. We shall have to get her back and make for the cocoa-nut trees, but I doubt whether they will bear the strain if we get a cable and blocks at work.”
“But look here,” said Oliver, “I’m not a sailor, but it seems to me—”
He stopped short, and Mr Rimmer looked at him smiling, but Oliver remained silent.
“He thinks it would be a good plan to put some preserving soap on the lugger,” said Panton laughing.
“No, I don’t,” said Oliver, “but I was thinking that it would not be a bad plan to drag the brig’s anchor down here, and get it out in the lagoon, and then fix up the capstan on board the lugger and work it there.”
“No,” said the mate, “it would drag her bows down and wedge her more fast.”
“I had not done,” said Oliver.
“Well, what would you do then?” asked the mate.
“Dig a trench just a little wider than the keel, right away down to the shore, and let the water in at high tide.”
“It would all soak away.”
“At first,” said Oliver. “After a time it would be half sand, half water, and yielding enough to let the keel go through like a quicksand.”
“He’s right,” cried Mr Rimmer, and the men set to work spending two whole days digging what resembled a pretty good ditch in the sand, and leading from the embedded keel right out nearly to the edge of the water.
While this was going on one of the brig’s anchors was lowered down into the dinghy and laid across a couple of pieces of wood, then, with a couple of planks for the keel to run upon, each being taken up in turn and laid end on to the other, the anchor was got right down to the lagoon, dropped about fifty yards out after being attached to a cable, another was knotted on to this, and again another to the last, and carried through the lugger’s bows to where the capstan was fixed.
At high tide the little remaining sand was rapidly dug away, and the water began to flow in; the capstan was manned, and a burst of cheering rose; for as fast as the bars could be worked and the cables in turn coiled down, the new boat was drawn through the sand and out till she was head over the anchor, with a clear foot below her keel.
“You’d better take command, Mr Lane,” said the mate, shaking hands warmly. “I ought to have thought of that, but it was beyond me. There we are, then. Now, all we have to do is to load her up with your treasures and plenty of stores, and then make for some other island, and from one to the other until we can get to a civilised port.”
“Why not make another lugger, so as to have everything you can belonging to thePlanet?”
“And give you gentlemen more time to collect?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, I don’t see why not,” said the mate, thoughtfully. “It grieves me to have the good old vessel stranded here with no end of valuable stuff in her; and now that we shall soon have the means of getting away when we like, I think I might as well set the men to work at another.”
“But you’ll get the rigging and stores on board this one first,” said Panton.
“Of course,” replied the mate; “but there is another thing to think of, gentlemen.”
The others looked at him inquiringly.
“When this boat is ready and properly laden, she cannot be left without a crew on board.”
“On account of the blacks,” cried Oliver. “No, it is impossible for her to be left.”
Chapter Forty Seven.Left in the Lurch.The question of building another craft remained in abeyance for a time, all attention being given to the furnishing, the decking, rigging, and other fittings of theLittle Planet. Then the cases of specimens were got down and placed on board, Panton’s first, for they took the place of ballast. Then all necessary stores and water were stowed away, with compass, instruments, and everything ready for an immediate start.“We shall be packed pretty close,” said the mate; “but I propose that we land whenever we have an opportunity, so that we shall not feel the confinement quite so much.”“Then, now that all is right, we may go on collecting?”“Yes,” said the mate, “and I think instead of attempting to build another it would be wiser to half-deck over our two best boats and store them ready. I can’t help feeling that it will be safer, and that if we try to save too much we may lose all.”This was finally settled, and a crew selected for the lugger under one or other of the passengers, each taking the command for a week.This went on for a month, when one day the mate said,—“Look here, gentlemen, I want a holiday. I’ve worked pretty hard, and I think it’s my turn to go on the new expedition. What do you say?”“It is only just,” they chorussed.“Then I propose taking the lugger and sailing round the island—as we believe it to be—and then I shall learn something about the prowess of our new craft and see how she can sail.”“That’s quite right, Mr Rimmer,” said Panton. “Eh, Lane?”“Of course; we have been horribly selfish in letting him keep on at work for us while we have been taking our pleasure.”“Which again was work, gentlemen, work,” replied the mate, good-humouredly. “But all the same, my dear fellows, there will not be much pleasure in this trip. I want to see whether our craft is seaworthy before we are compelled to take to her in real earnest. It would be rather awkward if she began to open her seams as soon as any strain was put upon her by the sails and a heavy sea. Believe me, I would not go if I didn’t think it right.”“My dear Mr Rimmer,” said Oliver, “do you think we do not know that?”“But it’s like leaving you all in the lurch.”“Nonsense,” cried Panton; “we shall be all right. How long will you be gone?”“I can’t say. Two or three days. Perhaps altogether.”“Eh?” cried Drew, in dismay.“TheLittle Planetmay prove untrustworthy, and take me to the bottom, gentlemen,” said the mate, calmly. “Who knows?”“Suppose we don’t make the worst of it,” said Oliver. “We know what a sailor you are.”“Well, I grant that I am, gentlemen, and ought to be,” replied the mate. “I was brought up to the sea, but I never tried my hand at ship-building before.”“Never mind, you’ve done wonders,” cried Panton. “When shall you start?”“To-morrow, about mid-day. That will give me time to make a few preparations. Let’s see, I must have some fighting tools and powder.”“Of course. How many men will you take with you?”“Three. That will be enough to manage the sails. I shall take the helm. You, gentlemen, will take command, of course, and see that the watches are kept regularly.”Oliver nodded as much as to say, “you may trust us,” and after a little more discussion of the mate’s plans, the three men were selected and sent down to the boat to take the places of two men who were in charge.They sat for long enough in the cabin that night, looking out through the open window at the lightning flickering about the volcano cloud, and the fire-flies flitting about the nearest patch of green growth, while every now and then a faint passing quiver told that the action below was still going on, though its violence seemed to be past, and the disturbance gradually dying out, perhaps to wait for years before another outbreak. There was a feeling akin to sadness as they sat talking, for they had all grown so intimate that the parting on the morrow promised to be painful. But the mate saw how they were all affected, and tried hard to cheer them up, rising at last to take a final look round before they retired for the night.Oliver’s sleep was terribly disturbed. He dreamed that the blacks had come with no ordinary weapons, but each bearing a bundle of dry wood which they piled-up round the brig and set on fire, and as the flames flashed in his eyes he started up in bed to see that the cabin was vividly illuminated, but only for a moment or two at a time, and he knew that it was from the electricity which played about the mountain top.He was glad enough when daylight came, and after a bathe in the spring where the bitter water was just comfortably hot, he felt refreshed and took upon himself the duty of sending off the rifles, guns, and ammunition, which would be needed on the voyage.These were entrusted to Smith to carry down to the lagoon and put on board, and at last the hour arrived for the mate to start, Panton being left for that day in command at the brig, while Oliver and Drew started, gun on shoulder, to see Mr Rimmer off.Very little was said during the walk, and the young men’s spirits sank low when they reached the coral sands where the lugger, with sails all ready for hoisting, lay on the pleasantly rippled blue lagoon.“Capital,” cried Mr Rimmer. “Just wind enough to take us well out through the opening in the reef.”As he spoke he waved his hand, the dinghy put off from the lugger, and a man rowed to the shore.“Good-bye,” cried the mate, quickly. “Only a pleasant trip, my dear sirs. I’ll soon be back. Shove off.”“It is to avoid showing that he is nervous about his voyage,” said Oliver as the man obeyed, and the little boat skimmed away toward where the lugger lay hanging on to a buoy, formed of a little keg anchored to a huge block of coral in the deepest part, by a great noose which had been cleverly dropped around the rock. And then as they stood leaning upon their guns, the dinghy reached the lugger and was made fast, the mooring rope was cast off and the men began to hoist the first sail, when Drew suddenly uttered a cry of horror.“What’s the matter?” exclaimed Oliver.“Look! look!” was the reply.Oliver already saw. A great war canoe was being paddled down the lagoon from the north, another was approaching from the south, and from out of the haze made by the booming breakers, a third came on toward the opening through which the mate had arranged to pass to the sea.The two young men stood paralysed for a few moments, before Oliver raised his gun to give a signal of alarm.But he lowered it into the hollow of his arm, as he felt that it was unnecessary, for the mate must see.“Look,” cried Drew. “He’s coming back to take his luck with us,” as they saw that the canoes were being paddled rapidly to lay their crews on board. For the sail hoisted had filled, and the second was being raised while the mate at the helm was steering the lugger as if to bring her close to where the young men stood.“That’s right, come ashore, we’ll cover you,” roared Oliver, and then he uttered a groan, for the lugger curved round when close to them, and then rushed through the water toward the opening in the reef.Oliver’s heart sank.“Discretion’s the better part of valour,” he muttered, “he’s going to leave us all in the lurch.”
The question of building another craft remained in abeyance for a time, all attention being given to the furnishing, the decking, rigging, and other fittings of theLittle Planet. Then the cases of specimens were got down and placed on board, Panton’s first, for they took the place of ballast. Then all necessary stores and water were stowed away, with compass, instruments, and everything ready for an immediate start.
“We shall be packed pretty close,” said the mate; “but I propose that we land whenever we have an opportunity, so that we shall not feel the confinement quite so much.”
“Then, now that all is right, we may go on collecting?”
“Yes,” said the mate, “and I think instead of attempting to build another it would be wiser to half-deck over our two best boats and store them ready. I can’t help feeling that it will be safer, and that if we try to save too much we may lose all.”
This was finally settled, and a crew selected for the lugger under one or other of the passengers, each taking the command for a week.
This went on for a month, when one day the mate said,—
“Look here, gentlemen, I want a holiday. I’ve worked pretty hard, and I think it’s my turn to go on the new expedition. What do you say?”
“It is only just,” they chorussed.
“Then I propose taking the lugger and sailing round the island—as we believe it to be—and then I shall learn something about the prowess of our new craft and see how she can sail.”
“That’s quite right, Mr Rimmer,” said Panton. “Eh, Lane?”
“Of course; we have been horribly selfish in letting him keep on at work for us while we have been taking our pleasure.”
“Which again was work, gentlemen, work,” replied the mate, good-humouredly. “But all the same, my dear fellows, there will not be much pleasure in this trip. I want to see whether our craft is seaworthy before we are compelled to take to her in real earnest. It would be rather awkward if she began to open her seams as soon as any strain was put upon her by the sails and a heavy sea. Believe me, I would not go if I didn’t think it right.”
“My dear Mr Rimmer,” said Oliver, “do you think we do not know that?”
“But it’s like leaving you all in the lurch.”
“Nonsense,” cried Panton; “we shall be all right. How long will you be gone?”
“I can’t say. Two or three days. Perhaps altogether.”
“Eh?” cried Drew, in dismay.
“TheLittle Planetmay prove untrustworthy, and take me to the bottom, gentlemen,” said the mate, calmly. “Who knows?”
“Suppose we don’t make the worst of it,” said Oliver. “We know what a sailor you are.”
“Well, I grant that I am, gentlemen, and ought to be,” replied the mate. “I was brought up to the sea, but I never tried my hand at ship-building before.”
“Never mind, you’ve done wonders,” cried Panton. “When shall you start?”
“To-morrow, about mid-day. That will give me time to make a few preparations. Let’s see, I must have some fighting tools and powder.”
“Of course. How many men will you take with you?”
“Three. That will be enough to manage the sails. I shall take the helm. You, gentlemen, will take command, of course, and see that the watches are kept regularly.”
Oliver nodded as much as to say, “you may trust us,” and after a little more discussion of the mate’s plans, the three men were selected and sent down to the boat to take the places of two men who were in charge.
They sat for long enough in the cabin that night, looking out through the open window at the lightning flickering about the volcano cloud, and the fire-flies flitting about the nearest patch of green growth, while every now and then a faint passing quiver told that the action below was still going on, though its violence seemed to be past, and the disturbance gradually dying out, perhaps to wait for years before another outbreak. There was a feeling akin to sadness as they sat talking, for they had all grown so intimate that the parting on the morrow promised to be painful. But the mate saw how they were all affected, and tried hard to cheer them up, rising at last to take a final look round before they retired for the night.
Oliver’s sleep was terribly disturbed. He dreamed that the blacks had come with no ordinary weapons, but each bearing a bundle of dry wood which they piled-up round the brig and set on fire, and as the flames flashed in his eyes he started up in bed to see that the cabin was vividly illuminated, but only for a moment or two at a time, and he knew that it was from the electricity which played about the mountain top.
He was glad enough when daylight came, and after a bathe in the spring where the bitter water was just comfortably hot, he felt refreshed and took upon himself the duty of sending off the rifles, guns, and ammunition, which would be needed on the voyage.
These were entrusted to Smith to carry down to the lagoon and put on board, and at last the hour arrived for the mate to start, Panton being left for that day in command at the brig, while Oliver and Drew started, gun on shoulder, to see Mr Rimmer off.
Very little was said during the walk, and the young men’s spirits sank low when they reached the coral sands where the lugger, with sails all ready for hoisting, lay on the pleasantly rippled blue lagoon.
“Capital,” cried Mr Rimmer. “Just wind enough to take us well out through the opening in the reef.”
As he spoke he waved his hand, the dinghy put off from the lugger, and a man rowed to the shore.
“Good-bye,” cried the mate, quickly. “Only a pleasant trip, my dear sirs. I’ll soon be back. Shove off.”
“It is to avoid showing that he is nervous about his voyage,” said Oliver as the man obeyed, and the little boat skimmed away toward where the lugger lay hanging on to a buoy, formed of a little keg anchored to a huge block of coral in the deepest part, by a great noose which had been cleverly dropped around the rock. And then as they stood leaning upon their guns, the dinghy reached the lugger and was made fast, the mooring rope was cast off and the men began to hoist the first sail, when Drew suddenly uttered a cry of horror.
“What’s the matter?” exclaimed Oliver.
“Look! look!” was the reply.
Oliver already saw. A great war canoe was being paddled down the lagoon from the north, another was approaching from the south, and from out of the haze made by the booming breakers, a third came on toward the opening through which the mate had arranged to pass to the sea.
The two young men stood paralysed for a few moments, before Oliver raised his gun to give a signal of alarm.
But he lowered it into the hollow of his arm, as he felt that it was unnecessary, for the mate must see.
“Look,” cried Drew. “He’s coming back to take his luck with us,” as they saw that the canoes were being paddled rapidly to lay their crews on board. For the sail hoisted had filled, and the second was being raised while the mate at the helm was steering the lugger as if to bring her close to where the young men stood.
“That’s right, come ashore, we’ll cover you,” roared Oliver, and then he uttered a groan, for the lugger curved round when close to them, and then rushed through the water toward the opening in the reef.
Oliver’s heart sank.
“Discretion’s the better part of valour,” he muttered, “he’s going to leave us all in the lurch.”