Chapter Sixteen.The Descent.Hope came with the first step, for it was upon hard slippery rock, and gathering courage from this, the young naturalist kept one foot firm, and stamped with the other to try whether the rock was brittle and likely to give way.But it seemed firm, and fixing his eyes upon the other side, Oliver drew himself up erect and walked boldly on to the narrow bridge, profoundly conscious of the fact that there, on either side where he dare not look, the walls went down almost perpendicularly into a gulf too awful to ponder on, even for a moment.Onward slowly, step by step, with the glistening crisp bridge some yards wide where he started, but as he went on, it grew narrower and narrower, while the farther side of the gulf which had appeared so short a distance away when he was high up and looking down, now looked far-off to his swimming eyes.The giddy feeling increased as he neared the middle, and then he stopped short, and dropped upon his knees. For suddenly, with the profound gulf on either side, there came a loud resonant crack, and a piece of the lava split away and fell.Lane knew that he ought to have rushed onward now, literally bounding across, but the horror of his position, as he felt that the frail bridge was giving way beneath his feet unnerved him, and he could not stir, but knelt there seeing the rock before him seem to rise and fall while he listened for what seemed as if it would never come, the echoing roar when the mass which had fallen struck below. Even if the lava on which he knelt had followed, he would not have stirred, only knelt there gazing at the remainder of the bridge in front as it undulated, rising and falling slowly, while the fume which arose from the chasm added to the giddy swimming in his head.At last! A deafening, reverberating roar, and Lane clutched at a piece of the rock, and closed his eyes, feeling that all was over, but opened them again directly to see that the bridge before him was not undulating, and he knew that it was an optical illusion due to the heat and the giddiness from which he was suffering.Nerving himself once more, he rose cautiously, and holding his gun across him with both hands, as if it were a balancing pole, he stepped cautiously forward a dozen steps or so, feeling the brittle, glassy rock quiver beneath his weight; and then with the lower side, and safety, not a dozen yards away, he was unable to contain himself, and springing forward he nearly ran, ending by making one great bound and landing safely as the whole mass over which he had passed gave one crashing sound and fell.Oliver Lane dropped on his knees a few yards from the edge he had left behind, and gazed wildly at the broad opening till a terrific roar arose from the depths below.For some moments his senses must have left him, and he was hardly himself when he rose to his feet and reeled and staggered downward. But this passed away; his consciousness fully returned, and no longer acting upon the blind instinct which urged him to escape, he began to hurry on more steadily toward where, far below, he could see the green trees, and as his dry lips parted he, in imagination, saw clear, cool water waiting to quench his awful thirst.But during the next two hours his progress grew more and more mechanical, and there were times when he went on down and down the loose slope like one in a dream. There, though far below, was the object which guided him, a glistening thread of silver water from which the sun’s rays flashed, and down by which he fell at last to bathe his face in its cool depths and drink as he had never drunk before.It was as if he had imbibed new life when he finally drew away from the water and lay gazing up at the mountain slope, and the summit whose highest parts were hidden in the rounded cloud of smoke and steam which rested there. Danger was apparently absent, and Oliver Lane felt ready to imagine he had exaggerated everything, and been ready to take alarm without sufficient cause. He was ready now, in the pleasant restful feeling which came over him, to laugh at what he mentally called his cowardice. But this passed off in time, and he knew that he had not only been in grave peril, but that even now his position was far from free of danger, it would soon be night again, he was without food, and that line of mist was like an impassable wall between him and his friends.As he arrived at this point in his musings, he tried to spring up, knowing that he must make an energetic effort to regain them.But there was very little spring in his motions, for though the cool draught of water had been delicious, and reclining there restful to a degree, the moment he stirred every joint moved as if its socket was harsh and dry, so that he would not have been surprised had they all creaked. He began to walk with pain and difficulty, with his mind made up as to what he should do. For there below him to his right was the long line of mist, and his object was to keep along parallel with it till he could pass round the end, which must be somewhere toward the shore, over which they had been carried inland. Once there, he would be able to reach his friends who ought, he felt, to have made some effort to find him in a similar way to that which he now proposed trying himself.“And by the same rule,” he said half aloud with a bitter laugh, as he shifted his gun from one shoulder to the other, “I ought to have gone at once to try and reach them instead of attempting such a mad adventure all alone.”It was too late for repentance, and he tramped wearily on, trying to make out in the lower ground upon which he gazed down to his right, the dense forest and the huge fig-tree in which he had passed the night. He laughed the next minute as he saw the impossibility of his search, for he looked down upon the rounded tops of hundreds of such trees rising like islands out of a sea of golden green shot with orange in the glow of the sinking sun.Before long he found that he must be on the look-out for another resting-place, and that as there would not be time to reach the band of trees at the foot of the mountain, he must find some patch of rocks on the slope along which he was painfully walking. Then, finding that he had left himself but little time, he halted by some greyish cindery blocks whose bases were sunk in volcanic sand, and hungry and faint with thirst, he threw himself down to lie looking up at the golden ball of illumined steam floating above the top of the volcano high up in the wonderfully transparent heavens till the light began to fade away, and then suddenly went out, that is to say, seemed to go out; for, in spite of hunger, thirst, and weariness, Oliver Lane’s eyelids dropped to open as sharply, directly, as it seemed to him, and he lay staring with dilated eyes upward at the object he had last seen.But it had changed, for the cloud, instead of looking golden and orange, as it glowed, was now soft, flocculent and grey.“There it is again,” he said, excitedly then. “I thought it was part of my dream.”
Hope came with the first step, for it was upon hard slippery rock, and gathering courage from this, the young naturalist kept one foot firm, and stamped with the other to try whether the rock was brittle and likely to give way.
But it seemed firm, and fixing his eyes upon the other side, Oliver drew himself up erect and walked boldly on to the narrow bridge, profoundly conscious of the fact that there, on either side where he dare not look, the walls went down almost perpendicularly into a gulf too awful to ponder on, even for a moment.
Onward slowly, step by step, with the glistening crisp bridge some yards wide where he started, but as he went on, it grew narrower and narrower, while the farther side of the gulf which had appeared so short a distance away when he was high up and looking down, now looked far-off to his swimming eyes.
The giddy feeling increased as he neared the middle, and then he stopped short, and dropped upon his knees. For suddenly, with the profound gulf on either side, there came a loud resonant crack, and a piece of the lava split away and fell.
Lane knew that he ought to have rushed onward now, literally bounding across, but the horror of his position, as he felt that the frail bridge was giving way beneath his feet unnerved him, and he could not stir, but knelt there seeing the rock before him seem to rise and fall while he listened for what seemed as if it would never come, the echoing roar when the mass which had fallen struck below. Even if the lava on which he knelt had followed, he would not have stirred, only knelt there gazing at the remainder of the bridge in front as it undulated, rising and falling slowly, while the fume which arose from the chasm added to the giddy swimming in his head.
At last! A deafening, reverberating roar, and Lane clutched at a piece of the rock, and closed his eyes, feeling that all was over, but opened them again directly to see that the bridge before him was not undulating, and he knew that it was an optical illusion due to the heat and the giddiness from which he was suffering.
Nerving himself once more, he rose cautiously, and holding his gun across him with both hands, as if it were a balancing pole, he stepped cautiously forward a dozen steps or so, feeling the brittle, glassy rock quiver beneath his weight; and then with the lower side, and safety, not a dozen yards away, he was unable to contain himself, and springing forward he nearly ran, ending by making one great bound and landing safely as the whole mass over which he had passed gave one crashing sound and fell.
Oliver Lane dropped on his knees a few yards from the edge he had left behind, and gazed wildly at the broad opening till a terrific roar arose from the depths below.
For some moments his senses must have left him, and he was hardly himself when he rose to his feet and reeled and staggered downward. But this passed away; his consciousness fully returned, and no longer acting upon the blind instinct which urged him to escape, he began to hurry on more steadily toward where, far below, he could see the green trees, and as his dry lips parted he, in imagination, saw clear, cool water waiting to quench his awful thirst.
But during the next two hours his progress grew more and more mechanical, and there were times when he went on down and down the loose slope like one in a dream. There, though far below, was the object which guided him, a glistening thread of silver water from which the sun’s rays flashed, and down by which he fell at last to bathe his face in its cool depths and drink as he had never drunk before.
It was as if he had imbibed new life when he finally drew away from the water and lay gazing up at the mountain slope, and the summit whose highest parts were hidden in the rounded cloud of smoke and steam which rested there. Danger was apparently absent, and Oliver Lane felt ready to imagine he had exaggerated everything, and been ready to take alarm without sufficient cause. He was ready now, in the pleasant restful feeling which came over him, to laugh at what he mentally called his cowardice. But this passed off in time, and he knew that he had not only been in grave peril, but that even now his position was far from free of danger, it would soon be night again, he was without food, and that line of mist was like an impassable wall between him and his friends.
As he arrived at this point in his musings, he tried to spring up, knowing that he must make an energetic effort to regain them.
But there was very little spring in his motions, for though the cool draught of water had been delicious, and reclining there restful to a degree, the moment he stirred every joint moved as if its socket was harsh and dry, so that he would not have been surprised had they all creaked. He began to walk with pain and difficulty, with his mind made up as to what he should do. For there below him to his right was the long line of mist, and his object was to keep along parallel with it till he could pass round the end, which must be somewhere toward the shore, over which they had been carried inland. Once there, he would be able to reach his friends who ought, he felt, to have made some effort to find him in a similar way to that which he now proposed trying himself.
“And by the same rule,” he said half aloud with a bitter laugh, as he shifted his gun from one shoulder to the other, “I ought to have gone at once to try and reach them instead of attempting such a mad adventure all alone.”
It was too late for repentance, and he tramped wearily on, trying to make out in the lower ground upon which he gazed down to his right, the dense forest and the huge fig-tree in which he had passed the night. He laughed the next minute as he saw the impossibility of his search, for he looked down upon the rounded tops of hundreds of such trees rising like islands out of a sea of golden green shot with orange in the glow of the sinking sun.
Before long he found that he must be on the look-out for another resting-place, and that as there would not be time to reach the band of trees at the foot of the mountain, he must find some patch of rocks on the slope along which he was painfully walking. Then, finding that he had left himself but little time, he halted by some greyish cindery blocks whose bases were sunk in volcanic sand, and hungry and faint with thirst, he threw himself down to lie looking up at the golden ball of illumined steam floating above the top of the volcano high up in the wonderfully transparent heavens till the light began to fade away, and then suddenly went out, that is to say, seemed to go out; for, in spite of hunger, thirst, and weariness, Oliver Lane’s eyelids dropped to open as sharply, directly, as it seemed to him, and he lay staring with dilated eyes upward at the object he had last seen.
But it had changed, for the cloud, instead of looking golden and orange, as it glowed, was now soft, flocculent and grey.
“There it is again,” he said, excitedly then. “I thought it was part of my dream.”
Chapter Seventeen.Friends in Need.He was quite right; it was solid reality, and he was looking at the broad back of a man standing a few yards away, with his hands to his mouth, and who now sent forth a tremendous shout, which was answered from a distance before the man turned, and stepped quickly to his side, displaying the rugged features of Billy Wriggs.“Ain’t dead, are yer, sir?” he cried, sinking on one knee. “Here, have a drink.”He placed his water bottle in the young man’s hand and watched him.“No; dead man couldn’t drink that how,” he said softly. “Go it, sir; I’ll fill it up again. Take a reg’lar good deep swig. Fine stuff, water, when you’re thirsty, so long as it aren’t hot water, and all bitter and salt. Go it again, sir,” he cried, as his rugged face softened into a weak grin of satisfaction. “Ahoy-a! Ahoy! This way.”This last was a tremendous roar through his hands, sent in the direction of the forest below, and as soon as it was answered, the man turned again to Lane.“Only to think on it being me as found yer, sir. I do call it luck. I come out o’ the wood, and I says to myself, ‘I shouldn’t wonder, Billy, old man, if Muster Lane’s over yonder, among them rocks, for it’s just the sorter place to make a roost on,’ and I come along, and see yer fast asleep, and here yer are, sir, not a bit dead, are yer?”“No, no, I’m all right, Wriggs, only so stiff, I can hardly move.”“Course yer are, sir. But never you mind about that. You wait till Tommy Smith comes up, and us two’ll give yer a real ’poo, sir—none of yer sham ’uns—and make yer jyntes as lissom as injy rubber. Why, sir, we begun to think you was a goner. How did yer get here?”“Tell me first how you got here.”“That’s me as will, sir,” cried the man with alacrity, as he keenly watched Lane’s efforts to rise, and lent him a hand. “Yer see, we couldn’t get through that steam as runs all along across the low land.”“Was any one the worse for getting through?” cried Lane, eagerly, and Billy Wriggs scratched his ear.“Well, sir, yer see, none on us weren’t none the wuss for getting through, ’cause we didn’t get through; but lots on us was all the wuss for not getting through. My heye! Talk about too much grog when yer ashore, it’s nothing to it. It’s the tipsyest stuff I ever swallowed. How did you manage, sir?”“I—I don’t know; I struggled through it, somehow, and then fell down insensible.”“Onsensible, course yer did, sir. It knocks all the gumption out on yer ’fore yer knows where yer are. Ahoy! mate! This way, Tommy. Here he is!”The trees below them had been parted, and, all scratched and bleeding, Smith appeared, and as soon as he caught sight of Lane, he slapped his legs heavily, turned round, and yelled aloud.Then he ran up at a trot, grinning hugely.“That’s you, sir,” he cried, “and I’m glad on it. They said as we should only find yer cold corpus, and ‘No,’ I says, ‘if we finds his corpus at all, it won’t be cold but hot roast. There’s no getting cold here. But I knows better. Too much stuff in him,’ I says. ‘He’ll sarcumwent all the trouble somehow. Master Oliver Lane aren’t the lad to lie down and give up,’ and I was right, warn’t I, Billy?”“Ay, mate, you was right this time.”“Course I was, Billy; but yer needn’t ha’ been in such a hurry to find Mr Lane all to yerself. But yer allus was a graspin’ sort o’ chap, Billy.”“You’re another,” growled Wriggs; “but don’t stand hargeying there. Here’s Mr Lane that stiff he can’t move hisself, and he wants us to give him a real ’poo.”“Whatcher mean, mate?”“Well, a shampoo, then.”“Hold on. Don’t you try them games, mate, for you was never cut out for the work. He thinks that’s a joke, Mr Lane, sir. But do you want your jyntes rubbed a bit?”“No, no, I shall be better directly,” cried Oliver. “Oh, yes, I can walk. Only a bit stiff. Where are the others?”“Coming through that bit o’ wood, sir, where it’s all thorns and fish-hooks. Mr Rimmer’s there and your two messmates.”“But how did you get through the mist?”“We didn’t, sir. We got a boat down to the shore, launched her and rowed doo north for a bit, and then landed and come along hunting for yer. Why, that there mist goes right down the shore and out to sea, where you can smell it as it comes bubbling up through the water.”“But how did you get a boat down?” cried Oliver. “It must be a good two miles.”“Nay, sir, seemed to us like a bad four mile,” grumbled Wriggs.“Yah! not it, Billy. Oh, we did it, sir. Took the littlest, and the carpenter made a couple o’ runners for it out of a spare yard, and so long as we picked our way she come along beautiful. Yer see we meant to do it, and o’ course we did it, and here we are.”“Ahoy!” yelled Wriggs again, and an answer was heard from close at hand, as Panton suddenly came into sight.“Found him?” he shouted, but he caught sight of his companion at the same moment, and rushed, out of breath and streaming with perspiration, to catch Lane’s hands; his lips moved as he tried to speak, but not a word would come.“Ahoy!” yelled Wriggs again, and Smith followed his example after turning his back to the two young men.A minute later Drew came into sight, and then Mr Rimmer, and somehow, he, too, seemed to be affected like Drew and Panton, for he could only shake hands and try to speak, but not a word came.“Lost all my wind,” he cried, at last, but in a husky, choky voice. “All right now, and jolly glad to see you again, sir. Hang it, what’s the matter with my throat? I know: it’s those nuts I picked as we came along. Phew! how hot it is.”“Lane, old chap,” whispered Panton, “we thought you’d left us in the lurch.”“That we did,” said Drew, blinking his eyes, and then blowing his nose very loudly. “But, I say, are you all right!”“Yes, only stiff and very hungry.”“Hungry?” cried the mate. “Hi! who’s got the prog bag?”“Them two’s got it, sir,” said Wriggs. “Here they come.” As he spoke a couple more men came into sight, and deferring all farther questioning till Lane’s hunger had been appeased, they descended to where the nearest water trickled amongst the rocks, and were soon all seated enjoying anal frescomeal, the rugged lava forming table and chairs, and the abundant growth of ferns giving a charm to the verdant nook, and sheltering them from the sun.“Well, all I can say is,” cried the mate, “that you’ve had a very narrow escape, sir, and, thank heaven, we’re all here to tell you so, for there were moments when I thought that it was all over with us. But, phew! how hot it is.”“Yes,” said Panton, “a steamy heat. We ought to be getting back to the boat. It will be cooler towards the sea. What’s the matter, Drew?”“I was examining these ferns. How curious it is.”“What, their withering up so?” said Lane. “Yes, I was noticing it. Are they sensitive plants?”“Oh, no!” cried Drew, “those are the mimosa family. But look here, you can see them fade and droop as you watch them; I suppose it is in some way due to our presence here.”“Watcher fidgeting about, Billy?” said Smith, just then. “It’s hot enough without you playing the fool. Shuffling about like a cat on hot bricks.”“That’s just what is the matter with me, matey,” grumbled Wriggs. “Just you put yer hand down here. This here rock’s as hot as a baker’s oven.”“So’s this here,” said one of the men who had carried the provisions. “Hadn’t we better go ’fore there’s roast man for brexfass?”“Really, gentlemen, it’s uncomfortably hot here,” said Mr Rimmer, and just then there was a peculiar tremor beneath them, and a shock as if they were upon a thin crust which had received a sharp blow from beneath.They all started to their feet, and the first disposition was to run.“Don’t leave your guns!” roared Panton, and each man snatched up his piece. The next moment they fell prostrate and clung to the nearest rocks, for the earth began to sink beneath them, and the huge stones upon which they had been seated a short time before glided away.“Quick!” cried Lane, as the surface, which had been nearly level, now hung down in a precipitous slope. “This way!”He set the example of climbing upward, and they reached a level spot again just as there was a sharp crack, a deafening roar, and from out of the vast chasm, which had opened, there was a rush of fire, and smoke rose suddenly towards where they clustered.
He was quite right; it was solid reality, and he was looking at the broad back of a man standing a few yards away, with his hands to his mouth, and who now sent forth a tremendous shout, which was answered from a distance before the man turned, and stepped quickly to his side, displaying the rugged features of Billy Wriggs.
“Ain’t dead, are yer, sir?” he cried, sinking on one knee. “Here, have a drink.”
He placed his water bottle in the young man’s hand and watched him.
“No; dead man couldn’t drink that how,” he said softly. “Go it, sir; I’ll fill it up again. Take a reg’lar good deep swig. Fine stuff, water, when you’re thirsty, so long as it aren’t hot water, and all bitter and salt. Go it again, sir,” he cried, as his rugged face softened into a weak grin of satisfaction. “Ahoy-a! Ahoy! This way.”
This last was a tremendous roar through his hands, sent in the direction of the forest below, and as soon as it was answered, the man turned again to Lane.
“Only to think on it being me as found yer, sir. I do call it luck. I come out o’ the wood, and I says to myself, ‘I shouldn’t wonder, Billy, old man, if Muster Lane’s over yonder, among them rocks, for it’s just the sorter place to make a roost on,’ and I come along, and see yer fast asleep, and here yer are, sir, not a bit dead, are yer?”
“No, no, I’m all right, Wriggs, only so stiff, I can hardly move.”
“Course yer are, sir. But never you mind about that. You wait till Tommy Smith comes up, and us two’ll give yer a real ’poo, sir—none of yer sham ’uns—and make yer jyntes as lissom as injy rubber. Why, sir, we begun to think you was a goner. How did yer get here?”
“Tell me first how you got here.”
“That’s me as will, sir,” cried the man with alacrity, as he keenly watched Lane’s efforts to rise, and lent him a hand. “Yer see, we couldn’t get through that steam as runs all along across the low land.”
“Was any one the worse for getting through?” cried Lane, eagerly, and Billy Wriggs scratched his ear.
“Well, sir, yer see, none on us weren’t none the wuss for getting through, ’cause we didn’t get through; but lots on us was all the wuss for not getting through. My heye! Talk about too much grog when yer ashore, it’s nothing to it. It’s the tipsyest stuff I ever swallowed. How did you manage, sir?”
“I—I don’t know; I struggled through it, somehow, and then fell down insensible.”
“Onsensible, course yer did, sir. It knocks all the gumption out on yer ’fore yer knows where yer are. Ahoy! mate! This way, Tommy. Here he is!”
The trees below them had been parted, and, all scratched and bleeding, Smith appeared, and as soon as he caught sight of Lane, he slapped his legs heavily, turned round, and yelled aloud.
Then he ran up at a trot, grinning hugely.
“That’s you, sir,” he cried, “and I’m glad on it. They said as we should only find yer cold corpus, and ‘No,’ I says, ‘if we finds his corpus at all, it won’t be cold but hot roast. There’s no getting cold here. But I knows better. Too much stuff in him,’ I says. ‘He’ll sarcumwent all the trouble somehow. Master Oliver Lane aren’t the lad to lie down and give up,’ and I was right, warn’t I, Billy?”
“Ay, mate, you was right this time.”
“Course I was, Billy; but yer needn’t ha’ been in such a hurry to find Mr Lane all to yerself. But yer allus was a graspin’ sort o’ chap, Billy.”
“You’re another,” growled Wriggs; “but don’t stand hargeying there. Here’s Mr Lane that stiff he can’t move hisself, and he wants us to give him a real ’poo.”
“Whatcher mean, mate?”
“Well, a shampoo, then.”
“Hold on. Don’t you try them games, mate, for you was never cut out for the work. He thinks that’s a joke, Mr Lane, sir. But do you want your jyntes rubbed a bit?”
“No, no, I shall be better directly,” cried Oliver. “Oh, yes, I can walk. Only a bit stiff. Where are the others?”
“Coming through that bit o’ wood, sir, where it’s all thorns and fish-hooks. Mr Rimmer’s there and your two messmates.”
“But how did you get through the mist?”
“We didn’t, sir. We got a boat down to the shore, launched her and rowed doo north for a bit, and then landed and come along hunting for yer. Why, that there mist goes right down the shore and out to sea, where you can smell it as it comes bubbling up through the water.”
“But how did you get a boat down?” cried Oliver. “It must be a good two miles.”
“Nay, sir, seemed to us like a bad four mile,” grumbled Wriggs.
“Yah! not it, Billy. Oh, we did it, sir. Took the littlest, and the carpenter made a couple o’ runners for it out of a spare yard, and so long as we picked our way she come along beautiful. Yer see we meant to do it, and o’ course we did it, and here we are.”
“Ahoy!” yelled Wriggs again, and an answer was heard from close at hand, as Panton suddenly came into sight.
“Found him?” he shouted, but he caught sight of his companion at the same moment, and rushed, out of breath and streaming with perspiration, to catch Lane’s hands; his lips moved as he tried to speak, but not a word would come.
“Ahoy!” yelled Wriggs again, and Smith followed his example after turning his back to the two young men.
A minute later Drew came into sight, and then Mr Rimmer, and somehow, he, too, seemed to be affected like Drew and Panton, for he could only shake hands and try to speak, but not a word came.
“Lost all my wind,” he cried, at last, but in a husky, choky voice. “All right now, and jolly glad to see you again, sir. Hang it, what’s the matter with my throat? I know: it’s those nuts I picked as we came along. Phew! how hot it is.”
“Lane, old chap,” whispered Panton, “we thought you’d left us in the lurch.”
“That we did,” said Drew, blinking his eyes, and then blowing his nose very loudly. “But, I say, are you all right!”
“Yes, only stiff and very hungry.”
“Hungry?” cried the mate. “Hi! who’s got the prog bag?”
“Them two’s got it, sir,” said Wriggs. “Here they come.” As he spoke a couple more men came into sight, and deferring all farther questioning till Lane’s hunger had been appeased, they descended to where the nearest water trickled amongst the rocks, and were soon all seated enjoying anal frescomeal, the rugged lava forming table and chairs, and the abundant growth of ferns giving a charm to the verdant nook, and sheltering them from the sun.
“Well, all I can say is,” cried the mate, “that you’ve had a very narrow escape, sir, and, thank heaven, we’re all here to tell you so, for there were moments when I thought that it was all over with us. But, phew! how hot it is.”
“Yes,” said Panton, “a steamy heat. We ought to be getting back to the boat. It will be cooler towards the sea. What’s the matter, Drew?”
“I was examining these ferns. How curious it is.”
“What, their withering up so?” said Lane. “Yes, I was noticing it. Are they sensitive plants?”
“Oh, no!” cried Drew, “those are the mimosa family. But look here, you can see them fade and droop as you watch them; I suppose it is in some way due to our presence here.”
“Watcher fidgeting about, Billy?” said Smith, just then. “It’s hot enough without you playing the fool. Shuffling about like a cat on hot bricks.”
“That’s just what is the matter with me, matey,” grumbled Wriggs. “Just you put yer hand down here. This here rock’s as hot as a baker’s oven.”
“So’s this here,” said one of the men who had carried the provisions. “Hadn’t we better go ’fore there’s roast man for brexfass?”
“Really, gentlemen, it’s uncomfortably hot here,” said Mr Rimmer, and just then there was a peculiar tremor beneath them, and a shock as if they were upon a thin crust which had received a sharp blow from beneath.
They all started to their feet, and the first disposition was to run.
“Don’t leave your guns!” roared Panton, and each man snatched up his piece. The next moment they fell prostrate and clung to the nearest rocks, for the earth began to sink beneath them, and the huge stones upon which they had been seated a short time before glided away.
“Quick!” cried Lane, as the surface, which had been nearly level, now hung down in a precipitous slope. “This way!”
He set the example of climbing upward, and they reached a level spot again just as there was a sharp crack, a deafening roar, and from out of the vast chasm, which had opened, there was a rush of fire, and smoke rose suddenly towards where they clustered.
Chapter Eighteen.Smith turns Turtle.The rush of smoke and fire passed away as rapidly as it had come, but the slope newly made ran down to where the light of day was reflected back from a dim mist which bore somewhat the aspect of disturbed water, but the earth, being quiescent once more, no one displayed any desire to make an examination of the opening, but at once gave it what the mate called a wide berth.“Let’s get back to the boat,” he said. “You must be pretty well done up, Mr Lane.”“Well, I am stiff,” said Oliver, stooping to give one leg a rub, “but I feel refreshed now, and I was thinking—”He stopped short and gazed back at the mountain with its glistening cloud cap and smooth slope of ashes dotted with blocks of lava and pumice, the latter flashing in the sunshine, and the whole having an alluring look which was tempting in the extreme.“What were you thinking?” said Panton; “not of climbing up again?”“Yes, I was thinking something of the kind. It seems a shame, now we are on the slope, not to go right up and see the crater and the view of the whole island which we should get from there?”The mate gave one of his ears a vexatious rub, and wrinkled up his forehead as he turned to give Drew a comical look.“Yes; what is it?” said that gentleman.“Oh, nothing, sir,” replied Mr Rimmer. “I was only thanking my stars that I wasn’t born to be a naturalist. For of all the unreasonable people I ever met they’re about the worst.”“Why?” said Oliver, innocently.“Why, sir!” cried the mate; “here have you been missing all this time, and by your own showing you’ve been nearly bitten by snakes and clawed by a leopard, suffocated, swallowed up, stuck on a bit of a bridge across a hole that goes down to the middle of the earth, and last of all nearly scorched like a leaf in a fireplace by that puff which came at us. And now, as soon as you have had a bite and sup, you look as if you’d like to tackle the mountain again.”“Of course, that’s what I do feel,” said Oliver, laughing. “So do we all.”“I’ll be hanged if I do!” cried Mr Rimmer. “The brig isn’t floating, I know, but she stands up pretty solid, and I feel as if I shall not be very comfortable till I’m standing upon her deck.”“But we’ve come on a voyage of discovery,” said Panton.“Yes, sir, that’s right enough, but we seem to have begun wrong way on. We want to discover things, and, instead, they keep discovering us. It’s just as if we’d no business here and the whole island was rising up against us.”“But this is such an opportunity,” pleaded Oliver. “We are, as I said, on the slope of the mountain, pretty well rested, and I think I may say that we are all eager to go up.”“No, sir, I don’t think you may say that,” replied the mate, grimly. “I’m pretty tired, and I’ve had a very anxious time lately.”“Well, we three are anxious to try the ascent.”“Oh, yes, I’m ready,” cried Panton, eagerly.“And so am I,” cried Drew; but there was a want of earnestness in his words. “Let’s start at once.”“Yes, gentlemen, back to the brig, please, and have a good rest. We’re none of us fit to-day.”“But we must ascend this mountain.”“Of course, sir, if it will let us,” said the mate; “but let’s come prepared. I’m with you at any time, and I should like to do it, but what I say is, let’s go back to the brig and have a day or two’s rest, and while we’re waiting make our plans and get a stock of food ready. Then we shall want plenty of light, strong line and a bit of rope ladder, and it would be wise to let the carpenter knock us up a light, strong set of steps of ten or a dozen foot long, the same as the Alpine gentlemen use. Then we could start some afternoon.”“At daybreak, some morning,” cried Oliver.“Let me finish, sir,” said the mate. “Start some afternoon and carry a spare sail and a hitcher or two in the boat. Then we could get round the mist, land, walk as far as we like that evening, and then light up our fire, and set up a bit of a tent. Next morning, after a good night’s rest, we could start fair, and do some work before the sun gets hot; for the mountain will be quite warm enough without the sun. There, gentlemen, what do you say to my plan?”“Carried unanimously,” cried Drew, and Panton and Oliver remained silent and ready to acquiesce, for the arrangement certainly promised well.The next minute they were on their way back down to the lower ground, where before reaching the forest patch below they came upon the remains of a group of what must have been well-grown trees, which had been so calcined that though the trunks retained their shape, they were so fragile that a kick given by one of the men brought the first down in powder which partly rose in a cloud, the remainder forming a heap of ashes.This was the more curious from the fact that within twenty yards there was a clump of vegetation evidently of greater age, growing in full luxuriance. But the reason was soon shown by Panton, who after a few minutes’ examination pointed to a narrow, jagged rift in the earth, running for twenty or thirty yards, and whose sides upon their peering down showed that fire must have rushed up with such intensity that in places the rock was covered with a thick glaze, such as is seen upon earthenware.“Strikes me, Tommy Smith—” said Wriggs, after he and the other men had had their turn at examining the earth crack.“Well, what strikes yer, and whereabouts?” replied Smith, turning to give his companions a wink as much as to say, “Hark at him and don’t laugh.”“Hidees, Tommy,” said Wriggs, “and they hits me in the head—hard.”“Well, then, matey, let ’em out again and tell us what they mean.”“Tommy, my lad, you’re trying to be werry wise and to show off, but don’t do it, mate. This here aren’t a place for cutting jokes and making fun o’ your messmate. What I says is—this here place aren’t safe, and the sooner we digs a canawl and takes the oldPlanetout to sea the better it’ll be for all consarned.”“I knowed it,” said Smith, oracularly. “I felt sure as something werry wise was a coming. How many spades have we got aboard, mates?”“Not none at all,” said one of the men.“No, not one,” said Smith. “I once heard some one may as it would take a long time to cut through Primrose Hill with a mustard spoon, and I can’t help thinking as it would take as long to make our canal.”“Now, my lads, what are you doing?” cried the mate.“Only just taking a sniff at the hole here, sir,” replied Smith, rising from his knees.“Well, and what can you smell—sulphur?”“No, sir, it’s more of a brimstone smell, just as if somebody had been burning matches down below in the back kitchen, sir. Now, my lads, forrard,” he whispered, for the mate had turned and gone on after the others.In a very short time the mountain was forgotten in the many objects of interest encountered at the edge of the forest, each naturalist finding, as he afterwards owned, ample specimens connected with his own especial branch to last him for weeks of earnest study. But at the suggestion of the mate they pressed on, and, choosing the easiest line of route they could find, they at last reached the shore where the boat lay upon the coral and shell-sand high up out of reach of the tide.She was soon launched, the party half lifting, half pushing, as they ran on either side, and then as she floated, springing in and gliding off over a lovely forest of coral and weed only a foot or two beneath the boat’s keel. Every spray was clearly seen, for the water was perfectly still and limpid in the lagoon, while a mile out the sea curled over in great billows and broke with a dull, thunderous roar upon the barrier reef which stretched north and south as far as eye could reach, but with a quiet space here and there which told of openings in the coral rock, gateways so to speak leading out into the open sea.The sun beat down with tropical force, but the gentle breeze from the ocean rendered the heat bearable, and a feeling of combined restfulness and pleasure came over Oliver Lane as he watched the wondrous transparent tints of the billows as their arches glistened in the sunshine before striking the coral reef, and breaking into foam which flashed and sparkled like freshly-cut gems.Turning from this he could feast his eyes upon the brilliantly scaled fish which glided in and out amongst the branching coral and bushy weed which formed a miniature submarine forest of pink, blue, amber, scarlet, and golden brown. Gorgeous creatures were some of these fish when they turned over a little on one side, displaying their armour of silver, gold, and orange, often in vivid bands across steely blue or brilliant green. Twice over, long, lithe sharks were seen hurrying out of their course, each of a dingy grey, with what Wriggs called a “shovel nose,” and curious tail with the top of the fork continued far out beyond the lower portion.But there was the shore to take his attention, too, and to this he turned eagerly as the shrieking and whistling of a flock of birds met his ear, and he saw them flying along over the far-stretching grove of cocoa-nut palms which curved up in a curious way from the very sand where at certain times the sea must have nearly washed their roots.“Hold hard a moment,” cried Oliver, suddenly, and the men ceased rowing, sitting with their oars balanced, and the boat silently gliding over the smooth surface of the water, making a tiny shoal of fish flash out into the sunshine from where the bows cut, and look like sparks of silver.“What is it, sir?” said the mate.“I want to know what that noise is. Didn’t you hear it, Drew?”“Yes, I heard something which seemed to come from the trees there, but it has stopped now.”“Men’s oars in the rowlocks,” said Panton.“Oh, no. It was not that,” cried Oliver. “It was just as if someone was making a noise in a big brass tube. Ah, there it goes.”Just then from out of the grove of palms about a hundred yards to their right came softly and regularly just such a sound as he had described.Phoomp, phoomp, phoomp, phoom, soft, clear, and musical, rising and falling in a peculiar way, as if close at hand and then distant.“Native brass band practising,” said Drew, merrily.“Puffs of steam from some volcanic blow hole.”“Music: must be,” said the mate. “There’s an instrument called a serpent. Perhaps it’s one of them playing itself.”“I don’t know what it is,” said Oliver. “Shall we pull ashore and see?”“No, no, not to-day,” said the mate. “Let’s get back.”“There’s a turtle just ahead, sir,” said Smith, from the bows.“A turtle?—a dove!” cried Oliver. “Perhaps it was that.”“I meant a turtle souper, sir,” said Smith, with a grin. Then to the mate, “If you’ll steer for her, sir, I’ll try and catch her, she’s asleep in the sunshine.”They all looked to where the olive green hued shell of the floating reptile could be seen, and with two of the men dipping their oars gently to keep the boat in motion, and Mr Rimmer steering, they softly approached, while Smith leaned over the gunwale with his sleeves rolled up over his brawny arms ready to get hold of one of the flippers.“Hadn’t you better try a boat-hook?” said Oliver, softly.“Too late; let him try his own way, sir,” whispered the mate. “Turn it over if you can, Smith.”The man dared not answer, but leaned out as far as he could, anchoring himself by passing one leg under the thwart as they went on nearer and nearer, every eye strained, lips parted, and a feeling of natural history or cooking interest animating the different breasts.“Got her!” cried Smith, suddenly, as he made a quick dip down and seized one of the turtle’s flippers with both hands. “Hi! one on yer. Help!”Wriggs made a snatch at and caught the man’s leg, as there was a sudden tug and jerk, a tremendous splash, and then, as the boat rocked, Smith’s leg was dragged from its holding and he disappeared beneath the surface.“Gone!” cried Wriggs, “and I did git tight hold on him, too.”“Pull!” shouted the mate, and as the oars dipped sharply the boat followed a little wave of water, which ran along in front, and out of which Smith’s head suddenly appeared, and directly after his bands grasped the gunwale of the boat.“Where’s the turtle?” cried Oliver, laughing.“I did get a hold on her, sir,” panted Smith; “but she went off like a steamer, and dragged me underneath. Ah! there she goes,” he continued, as he looked toward where the little wave showed that the turtle was swimming rapidly through the troubled water.“Here, quick, in with you!” cried Oliver, excitedly, as Smith made a jump and climbed—or rather tumbled in—over the side, and none too soon, for the back fin of a shark suddenly appeared a few yards away, and as the man slowly subsided into the boat there was a gleam of creamy white in the water, and a dull thud up against the bows.“The brute!” cried the mate, as the shark glided out of sight, and then displayed its back fin again above water. “A warning that against bathing.”“Yes, and a very narrow escape!” cried Panton.“Sarves me right, sir,” said Smith, standing up in the bows to wring himself as much as he could without stripping. “Comes o’ trying to make turtle soup of t’other thing.”“Pull away, my lads,” said the mate, smiling.“If it’s all the same to you, sir,” said Wriggs, “mightn’t us try and ketch that Jack shark for trying to kill our mate?”“Oh, yes! if you can do so, by all means; but not to-day. Now, gentlemen, look just ahead. What do you say to that?”“It’s where the mist bank runs into the sea,” cried Lane, excitedly; for there, to their right, the vapour rose up among the cocoa-nut trees which just there seemed to be half dead, while all around the boat the clear water was in a state of ebullition, tiny globules of gas running up from below, and breaking on the surface.“Runs right away to the reef,” cried Panton.“Ay, sir, and perhaps far enough beyond,” said the mate. “Pull hard, my lads, and let’s get through.”“The coral seems to be all dead,” said Drew, “and there are no weeds.”“Not a sign of fish either,” said Lane, whose face was over the side. “Plenty of great clam shells, but they are gaping open, and the occupants dead—ah!”He drew his head back sharply, for he had been suddenly seized with a catching of the breath.“Get a sniff of it, sir?” said Smith, who was now close by.“I breathed it, too,” said Drew, “but the gas does not seem to be so powerful here above the water.”“No,” said Panton. “I could just make out a crack or two through the coral. We’re clear now.”“Yes,” said the mate, looking back at the effervescing water, “and the bottom is alive again.”He was right, for the peculiar display of animal and vegetable growth was plain to see once more. Great sea slugs crawled about on the bottom with gigantic starfish, and actiniae of vivid colours spread their tentacled blossoms.“Best way this of getting through the mist, eh, Lane?” cried Panton.“But there is no mist over the sea,” said Lane.“No, I suppose the passage through water makes the gas invisible,” said Panton. “Isn’t this somewhere near where we started, Mr Rimmer?”“No, sir, ’bout a mile farther on. Keep a look-out and you’ll see the opening in the cocoa-nut grove, and the marks of the boat’s keel upon the sand.”They were not long in reaching the spot, and there the boat was run right up over the soft beach in among the tall stems of the nearest cocoanuts, and carefully made fast.“But suppose savages come and find it?” suggested Oliver.“Strikes me, Mr Lane,” said the mate, “that we’re the only savages here. Now, gentlemen, who says a drink of cocoa-nut milk, and then we’ll make haste back to the brig.”There was ample store swinging overhead, and after a couple of tries, a man succeeded in climbing one of the tall, spar-like trees, and shaking down ample for their light lunch. A couple of hours later they had traversed the wave-swept plain, and reached the brig, where they were heartily welcomed by the portion of the crew left in charge.“But what’s the matter?” cried the mate. “You all look white about the gills.”“Had a bit of a scare, sir,” said one of the men. “All at wonst, it was just as if the brig was an old cow a trying to get on her legs. For she was heaved up, shook herself a bit, and then settled down again, just as she was before.”“Not quite, my lad,” said Wriggs. “Speak the truth whatever yer does. She’s got a cant to port since we went away.”He was quite right, thePlanet’sdeck was no longer level, but had a slope, and the masts, instead of being perpendicular, slanted slightly towards the horizon.“Yes, Tommy Smith. Wet as you are,” whispered Wriggs, solemnly, “I must tell yer the truth, it’s as they say quite dangerous to be safe.”
The rush of smoke and fire passed away as rapidly as it had come, but the slope newly made ran down to where the light of day was reflected back from a dim mist which bore somewhat the aspect of disturbed water, but the earth, being quiescent once more, no one displayed any desire to make an examination of the opening, but at once gave it what the mate called a wide berth.
“Let’s get back to the boat,” he said. “You must be pretty well done up, Mr Lane.”
“Well, I am stiff,” said Oliver, stooping to give one leg a rub, “but I feel refreshed now, and I was thinking—”
He stopped short and gazed back at the mountain with its glistening cloud cap and smooth slope of ashes dotted with blocks of lava and pumice, the latter flashing in the sunshine, and the whole having an alluring look which was tempting in the extreme.
“What were you thinking?” said Panton; “not of climbing up again?”
“Yes, I was thinking something of the kind. It seems a shame, now we are on the slope, not to go right up and see the crater and the view of the whole island which we should get from there?”
The mate gave one of his ears a vexatious rub, and wrinkled up his forehead as he turned to give Drew a comical look.
“Yes; what is it?” said that gentleman.
“Oh, nothing, sir,” replied Mr Rimmer. “I was only thanking my stars that I wasn’t born to be a naturalist. For of all the unreasonable people I ever met they’re about the worst.”
“Why?” said Oliver, innocently.
“Why, sir!” cried the mate; “here have you been missing all this time, and by your own showing you’ve been nearly bitten by snakes and clawed by a leopard, suffocated, swallowed up, stuck on a bit of a bridge across a hole that goes down to the middle of the earth, and last of all nearly scorched like a leaf in a fireplace by that puff which came at us. And now, as soon as you have had a bite and sup, you look as if you’d like to tackle the mountain again.”
“Of course, that’s what I do feel,” said Oliver, laughing. “So do we all.”
“I’ll be hanged if I do!” cried Mr Rimmer. “The brig isn’t floating, I know, but she stands up pretty solid, and I feel as if I shall not be very comfortable till I’m standing upon her deck.”
“But we’ve come on a voyage of discovery,” said Panton.
“Yes, sir, that’s right enough, but we seem to have begun wrong way on. We want to discover things, and, instead, they keep discovering us. It’s just as if we’d no business here and the whole island was rising up against us.”
“But this is such an opportunity,” pleaded Oliver. “We are, as I said, on the slope of the mountain, pretty well rested, and I think I may say that we are all eager to go up.”
“No, sir, I don’t think you may say that,” replied the mate, grimly. “I’m pretty tired, and I’ve had a very anxious time lately.”
“Well, we three are anxious to try the ascent.”
“Oh, yes, I’m ready,” cried Panton, eagerly.
“And so am I,” cried Drew; but there was a want of earnestness in his words. “Let’s start at once.”
“Yes, gentlemen, back to the brig, please, and have a good rest. We’re none of us fit to-day.”
“But we must ascend this mountain.”
“Of course, sir, if it will let us,” said the mate; “but let’s come prepared. I’m with you at any time, and I should like to do it, but what I say is, let’s go back to the brig and have a day or two’s rest, and while we’re waiting make our plans and get a stock of food ready. Then we shall want plenty of light, strong line and a bit of rope ladder, and it would be wise to let the carpenter knock us up a light, strong set of steps of ten or a dozen foot long, the same as the Alpine gentlemen use. Then we could start some afternoon.”
“At daybreak, some morning,” cried Oliver.
“Let me finish, sir,” said the mate. “Start some afternoon and carry a spare sail and a hitcher or two in the boat. Then we could get round the mist, land, walk as far as we like that evening, and then light up our fire, and set up a bit of a tent. Next morning, after a good night’s rest, we could start fair, and do some work before the sun gets hot; for the mountain will be quite warm enough without the sun. There, gentlemen, what do you say to my plan?”
“Carried unanimously,” cried Drew, and Panton and Oliver remained silent and ready to acquiesce, for the arrangement certainly promised well.
The next minute they were on their way back down to the lower ground, where before reaching the forest patch below they came upon the remains of a group of what must have been well-grown trees, which had been so calcined that though the trunks retained their shape, they were so fragile that a kick given by one of the men brought the first down in powder which partly rose in a cloud, the remainder forming a heap of ashes.
This was the more curious from the fact that within twenty yards there was a clump of vegetation evidently of greater age, growing in full luxuriance. But the reason was soon shown by Panton, who after a few minutes’ examination pointed to a narrow, jagged rift in the earth, running for twenty or thirty yards, and whose sides upon their peering down showed that fire must have rushed up with such intensity that in places the rock was covered with a thick glaze, such as is seen upon earthenware.
“Strikes me, Tommy Smith—” said Wriggs, after he and the other men had had their turn at examining the earth crack.
“Well, what strikes yer, and whereabouts?” replied Smith, turning to give his companions a wink as much as to say, “Hark at him and don’t laugh.”
“Hidees, Tommy,” said Wriggs, “and they hits me in the head—hard.”
“Well, then, matey, let ’em out again and tell us what they mean.”
“Tommy, my lad, you’re trying to be werry wise and to show off, but don’t do it, mate. This here aren’t a place for cutting jokes and making fun o’ your messmate. What I says is—this here place aren’t safe, and the sooner we digs a canawl and takes the oldPlanetout to sea the better it’ll be for all consarned.”
“I knowed it,” said Smith, oracularly. “I felt sure as something werry wise was a coming. How many spades have we got aboard, mates?”
“Not none at all,” said one of the men.
“No, not one,” said Smith. “I once heard some one may as it would take a long time to cut through Primrose Hill with a mustard spoon, and I can’t help thinking as it would take as long to make our canal.”
“Now, my lads, what are you doing?” cried the mate.
“Only just taking a sniff at the hole here, sir,” replied Smith, rising from his knees.
“Well, and what can you smell—sulphur?”
“No, sir, it’s more of a brimstone smell, just as if somebody had been burning matches down below in the back kitchen, sir. Now, my lads, forrard,” he whispered, for the mate had turned and gone on after the others.
In a very short time the mountain was forgotten in the many objects of interest encountered at the edge of the forest, each naturalist finding, as he afterwards owned, ample specimens connected with his own especial branch to last him for weeks of earnest study. But at the suggestion of the mate they pressed on, and, choosing the easiest line of route they could find, they at last reached the shore where the boat lay upon the coral and shell-sand high up out of reach of the tide.
She was soon launched, the party half lifting, half pushing, as they ran on either side, and then as she floated, springing in and gliding off over a lovely forest of coral and weed only a foot or two beneath the boat’s keel. Every spray was clearly seen, for the water was perfectly still and limpid in the lagoon, while a mile out the sea curled over in great billows and broke with a dull, thunderous roar upon the barrier reef which stretched north and south as far as eye could reach, but with a quiet space here and there which told of openings in the coral rock, gateways so to speak leading out into the open sea.
The sun beat down with tropical force, but the gentle breeze from the ocean rendered the heat bearable, and a feeling of combined restfulness and pleasure came over Oliver Lane as he watched the wondrous transparent tints of the billows as their arches glistened in the sunshine before striking the coral reef, and breaking into foam which flashed and sparkled like freshly-cut gems.
Turning from this he could feast his eyes upon the brilliantly scaled fish which glided in and out amongst the branching coral and bushy weed which formed a miniature submarine forest of pink, blue, amber, scarlet, and golden brown. Gorgeous creatures were some of these fish when they turned over a little on one side, displaying their armour of silver, gold, and orange, often in vivid bands across steely blue or brilliant green. Twice over, long, lithe sharks were seen hurrying out of their course, each of a dingy grey, with what Wriggs called a “shovel nose,” and curious tail with the top of the fork continued far out beyond the lower portion.
But there was the shore to take his attention, too, and to this he turned eagerly as the shrieking and whistling of a flock of birds met his ear, and he saw them flying along over the far-stretching grove of cocoa-nut palms which curved up in a curious way from the very sand where at certain times the sea must have nearly washed their roots.
“Hold hard a moment,” cried Oliver, suddenly, and the men ceased rowing, sitting with their oars balanced, and the boat silently gliding over the smooth surface of the water, making a tiny shoal of fish flash out into the sunshine from where the bows cut, and look like sparks of silver.
“What is it, sir?” said the mate.
“I want to know what that noise is. Didn’t you hear it, Drew?”
“Yes, I heard something which seemed to come from the trees there, but it has stopped now.”
“Men’s oars in the rowlocks,” said Panton.
“Oh, no. It was not that,” cried Oliver. “It was just as if someone was making a noise in a big brass tube. Ah, there it goes.”
Just then from out of the grove of palms about a hundred yards to their right came softly and regularly just such a sound as he had described.
Phoomp, phoomp, phoomp, phoom, soft, clear, and musical, rising and falling in a peculiar way, as if close at hand and then distant.
“Native brass band practising,” said Drew, merrily.
“Puffs of steam from some volcanic blow hole.”
“Music: must be,” said the mate. “There’s an instrument called a serpent. Perhaps it’s one of them playing itself.”
“I don’t know what it is,” said Oliver. “Shall we pull ashore and see?”
“No, no, not to-day,” said the mate. “Let’s get back.”
“There’s a turtle just ahead, sir,” said Smith, from the bows.
“A turtle?—a dove!” cried Oliver. “Perhaps it was that.”
“I meant a turtle souper, sir,” said Smith, with a grin. Then to the mate, “If you’ll steer for her, sir, I’ll try and catch her, she’s asleep in the sunshine.”
They all looked to where the olive green hued shell of the floating reptile could be seen, and with two of the men dipping their oars gently to keep the boat in motion, and Mr Rimmer steering, they softly approached, while Smith leaned over the gunwale with his sleeves rolled up over his brawny arms ready to get hold of one of the flippers.
“Hadn’t you better try a boat-hook?” said Oliver, softly.
“Too late; let him try his own way, sir,” whispered the mate. “Turn it over if you can, Smith.”
The man dared not answer, but leaned out as far as he could, anchoring himself by passing one leg under the thwart as they went on nearer and nearer, every eye strained, lips parted, and a feeling of natural history or cooking interest animating the different breasts.
“Got her!” cried Smith, suddenly, as he made a quick dip down and seized one of the turtle’s flippers with both hands. “Hi! one on yer. Help!”
Wriggs made a snatch at and caught the man’s leg, as there was a sudden tug and jerk, a tremendous splash, and then, as the boat rocked, Smith’s leg was dragged from its holding and he disappeared beneath the surface.
“Gone!” cried Wriggs, “and I did git tight hold on him, too.”
“Pull!” shouted the mate, and as the oars dipped sharply the boat followed a little wave of water, which ran along in front, and out of which Smith’s head suddenly appeared, and directly after his bands grasped the gunwale of the boat.
“Where’s the turtle?” cried Oliver, laughing.
“I did get a hold on her, sir,” panted Smith; “but she went off like a steamer, and dragged me underneath. Ah! there she goes,” he continued, as he looked toward where the little wave showed that the turtle was swimming rapidly through the troubled water.
“Here, quick, in with you!” cried Oliver, excitedly, as Smith made a jump and climbed—or rather tumbled in—over the side, and none too soon, for the back fin of a shark suddenly appeared a few yards away, and as the man slowly subsided into the boat there was a gleam of creamy white in the water, and a dull thud up against the bows.
“The brute!” cried the mate, as the shark glided out of sight, and then displayed its back fin again above water. “A warning that against bathing.”
“Yes, and a very narrow escape!” cried Panton.
“Sarves me right, sir,” said Smith, standing up in the bows to wring himself as much as he could without stripping. “Comes o’ trying to make turtle soup of t’other thing.”
“Pull away, my lads,” said the mate, smiling.
“If it’s all the same to you, sir,” said Wriggs, “mightn’t us try and ketch that Jack shark for trying to kill our mate?”
“Oh, yes! if you can do so, by all means; but not to-day. Now, gentlemen, look just ahead. What do you say to that?”
“It’s where the mist bank runs into the sea,” cried Lane, excitedly; for there, to their right, the vapour rose up among the cocoa-nut trees which just there seemed to be half dead, while all around the boat the clear water was in a state of ebullition, tiny globules of gas running up from below, and breaking on the surface.
“Runs right away to the reef,” cried Panton.
“Ay, sir, and perhaps far enough beyond,” said the mate. “Pull hard, my lads, and let’s get through.”
“The coral seems to be all dead,” said Drew, “and there are no weeds.”
“Not a sign of fish either,” said Lane, whose face was over the side. “Plenty of great clam shells, but they are gaping open, and the occupants dead—ah!”
He drew his head back sharply, for he had been suddenly seized with a catching of the breath.
“Get a sniff of it, sir?” said Smith, who was now close by.
“I breathed it, too,” said Drew, “but the gas does not seem to be so powerful here above the water.”
“No,” said Panton. “I could just make out a crack or two through the coral. We’re clear now.”
“Yes,” said the mate, looking back at the effervescing water, “and the bottom is alive again.”
He was right, for the peculiar display of animal and vegetable growth was plain to see once more. Great sea slugs crawled about on the bottom with gigantic starfish, and actiniae of vivid colours spread their tentacled blossoms.
“Best way this of getting through the mist, eh, Lane?” cried Panton.
“But there is no mist over the sea,” said Lane.
“No, I suppose the passage through water makes the gas invisible,” said Panton. “Isn’t this somewhere near where we started, Mr Rimmer?”
“No, sir, ’bout a mile farther on. Keep a look-out and you’ll see the opening in the cocoa-nut grove, and the marks of the boat’s keel upon the sand.”
They were not long in reaching the spot, and there the boat was run right up over the soft beach in among the tall stems of the nearest cocoanuts, and carefully made fast.
“But suppose savages come and find it?” suggested Oliver.
“Strikes me, Mr Lane,” said the mate, “that we’re the only savages here. Now, gentlemen, who says a drink of cocoa-nut milk, and then we’ll make haste back to the brig.”
There was ample store swinging overhead, and after a couple of tries, a man succeeded in climbing one of the tall, spar-like trees, and shaking down ample for their light lunch. A couple of hours later they had traversed the wave-swept plain, and reached the brig, where they were heartily welcomed by the portion of the crew left in charge.
“But what’s the matter?” cried the mate. “You all look white about the gills.”
“Had a bit of a scare, sir,” said one of the men. “All at wonst, it was just as if the brig was an old cow a trying to get on her legs. For she was heaved up, shook herself a bit, and then settled down again, just as she was before.”
“Not quite, my lad,” said Wriggs. “Speak the truth whatever yer does. She’s got a cant to port since we went away.”
He was quite right, thePlanet’sdeck was no longer level, but had a slope, and the masts, instead of being perpendicular, slanted slightly towards the horizon.
“Yes, Tommy Smith. Wet as you are,” whispered Wriggs, solemnly, “I must tell yer the truth, it’s as they say quite dangerous to be safe.”
Chapter Nineteen.A Startler.The strangeness of their position grew hourly to the crew of thePlanetbrig, and again and again the mate proposed plans for extricating themselves.“It will take time,” he said, “but it would be far better than attempting the trip in open boats. I have had it over with the carpenter, and he thinks that we could build a small lugger—decked—of about the size of one of the Cornish mackerel craft. What do you gentlemen say to that?”“I say it’s a capital idea,” said Oliver, and his companions endorsed his opinion.“So I thought,” said the mate. “It will take a long time to tear up enough of the old brig, and to get the material down to the shore, but we shall all work with a will. I thought that we might make a hut under the cocoa-nut trees just opposite one of the openings in the reef, and as you agree that it’s a good plan, I propose beginning at once. Then we could sail east, west, or north, to one of the settlements.”“But what’s the hurry?” said Oliver.“Eh? Hurry? Why, we’re wrecked, sir, and I want to get afloat again.”“But we don’t,” cried Oliver. “We could not be in a better place for our studies, and we shall want you to let us have the men to go with us upon expeditions and carry our collections.”“But isn’t it rather too cool to sit down patiently here with our ship wrecked?”“I haven’t found the place very cool, Mr Rimmer,” said Panton, smiling.“I didn’t mean that kind of coolness,” said the mate, heartily. “But it fidgets me about my vessel. See how she’s canted over. I should not be surprised to find her some day sunk out of sight.”“But you couldn’t find her if she was sunk out of sight,” said Drew, merrily.“No, no, of course not. How you gents do catch me up.”“Look here, Mr Rimmer, don’t you worry,” cried Oliver. “Let the vessel be for a bit while we collect. When we have exhausted the place we will all join you heart and soul in any plan to get away; but, dangerous as the island is, I don’t want to leave it yet.”“Nor I,” said Panton.“Nor I,” cried Drew.“All right then, gentlemen. Then we’ll stay as we are for the present, only something must be done about fresh provisions.”“I’ll start at once shooting, and we can eat all the birds I kill. I only want the skins.”“And I daresay I can collect a good deal of fruit and some form of vegetables that may be useful,” said Drew.“That’s good, gentlemen. But first of all, I think we ought to do some fishing.”“Good,” said Panton. “Why not net one of the big pools?”“First reason, because we have no drag-net, sir. Second, because there are things in those pools that would tear any net to pieces and take the men who used it as bait.”“Yes, there are crocodiles, I know.”“Yes, sir, and a kind of sea-serpent thing in plenty.”“What!” cried Panton, with a laugh.“Oh, I don’t mean sea captains’ sea-serpents, sir; but fellows of five, six, or seven feet long. There are plenty of them out in these seas, and some are poisonous, too. No, I don’t think we’ll try the pools, for did we catch any fish I’m afraid they’d be sickly and unwholesome. I propose getting the lines and going to the shore, rowing out to one of those patches of rock just at the opening of the reef; and trying our luck there.”“I’m ready,” said Oliver, “and we might perhaps get hold of a turtle. We ought to slip a noose round one of the flippers if we see one again.”“That’s right, sir, we will. A good turtle would be worth having now.”“When do you propose going?” asked Panton.“To-day, if you are all willing,” said the mate.“I’m willing enough if the others are,” cried Oliver, “for it will be a treat to examine the strange tropical fish.”“What about bait?” asked Drew.“Oh, a bit or two of salt meat will do to begin with,” said the mate. “I daresay we can catch one or two with that. Then we shall be all right. There is no better bait than a bit of fresh fish to tempt others.”“Plenty of shell fish, too, in the lagoon,” suggested Oliver.“Of course, I had forgotten them. An hour’s time? Will that do?”“Capitally,” they cried.“Then I’ll go and see about the tackle and some bait for ourselves.”In less than the suggested time the little party, with four of the sailors to help row and carry the provisions out, and any fish they might catch, back to the ship, were on their way to the shore.It was a couple of weeks since Oliver’s return, and the eagerness to ascend the mountain was as strong with him as ever; but the attempt had been put off for the present, and in the interval plenty of collecting had been going on, and the mate had enough to do to make things what he called snug.They passed a couple of pools on the way, and it was evident that they were rapidly drying up, for the shrinking of the water was visible at the edges, and the presence of crocodiles plain enough.“Will not these places be very offensive when they dry and the fish die?” said Drew, quickly.“No, sir, the crocs won’t leave any fish to die, and before long they’ll begin travelling down to the sea.”The shore was reached at last, and all eagerly laid the cocoa-nuts under contribution, the cool, sub-acid milk being most refreshing. Then the boat was run down over the sand by the sailors, launched, and they put off across the calm lagoon, only pausing twice for a few of the soft molluscs to be fished up to act as bait.A quarter of an hour later the boat was made fast to a mass of coral upon a bare patch of fairly level rock some fifty feet across. It was close to an opening in the reef, where the tide came rushing in and the water was roughened and disturbed, beside possessing the advantage for the fisherman of going down at once quite deep, where they could throw out their lines right into the opening.Three of these were soon rigged up and baited by the men, Smith devoting himself to Oliver Lane, who stood ready to throw out his lead sinker.“Aren’t you going to fish too, Mr Rammer?” he asked.“Not if you can get any, my lad; I’m going to lash this big shark hook on to the end of a long pole and gaff all you catch.”Oliver laughed.“You don’t expect that I’m going to catch anything big enough for you to want a hook like that to haul it out?”“Why not? We haven’t come to catch sprats, sir. Strikes me that if the fish bite, you’ll find you get hold of some thumpers. I’ve fished in these waters before, and I remember what sort of sport I had out in Fiji. Ready?”“Yes,” said Lane, who had just covered his hook with the tough mussel-like mollusc he had drawn out of a shell.“Throw in just out yonder, then, right in the opening of the reef where the waves come in.”Oliver gave his lead a swing and brought it heavily in contact with Smith’s head.“That aren’t fish, sir, that’s foul,” grumbled the man.“I beg your pardon, Smith,” cried Oliver, confusedly.“My fault p’raps, sir. Try again. All right: line’s laid in rings so that it’ll run out.”Oliver gave the lead another swing and loosed it with so good an aim that it fell twenty yards away right in the swift current rushing through the opening in the reef.“First in,” he cried. “Look sharp, you two.”“Mind, sir, quick!” cried Smith, as the line began to run out rapidly, and the man seized the end so as to check it.“Precious deep,” said Oliver, catching at the line in turn, and in an instant feeling a ring tighten round and cut into his wrist. “Why I’ve hooked one already—a monster. Here, Smith, come and pull.”“Quick! all of you: lie down!” shouted the mate, excitedly, and he set the example.“What is it, what’s the matter?” cried Panton.“You’re to hold me,” said Oliver. “I’ve got hold of a whale, and it will tug me off the rock. Help, please, it’s cutting into my arm.”“Never mind the fish,” cried the mate, angrily. “Don’t you see? Lie close all of you and they may pass us.”He pointed as he spoke, and the little party now saw the cause of his excitement, for half a mile away, just coming round a point masked by a clump of cocoa palms, was a large canoe with outrigger, upon which three or four men were perched so as to help balance their vessel, which, crowded with blacks, was literally racing along a short distance from the reef, impelled by its wide-spreading matting sail.“Friends,” said Panton, excitedly.“If we were on board our brig and at sea,” said the mate, “but as a shipwrecked party they are foes.”
The strangeness of their position grew hourly to the crew of thePlanetbrig, and again and again the mate proposed plans for extricating themselves.
“It will take time,” he said, “but it would be far better than attempting the trip in open boats. I have had it over with the carpenter, and he thinks that we could build a small lugger—decked—of about the size of one of the Cornish mackerel craft. What do you gentlemen say to that?”
“I say it’s a capital idea,” said Oliver, and his companions endorsed his opinion.
“So I thought,” said the mate. “It will take a long time to tear up enough of the old brig, and to get the material down to the shore, but we shall all work with a will. I thought that we might make a hut under the cocoa-nut trees just opposite one of the openings in the reef, and as you agree that it’s a good plan, I propose beginning at once. Then we could sail east, west, or north, to one of the settlements.”
“But what’s the hurry?” said Oliver.
“Eh? Hurry? Why, we’re wrecked, sir, and I want to get afloat again.”
“But we don’t,” cried Oliver. “We could not be in a better place for our studies, and we shall want you to let us have the men to go with us upon expeditions and carry our collections.”
“But isn’t it rather too cool to sit down patiently here with our ship wrecked?”
“I haven’t found the place very cool, Mr Rimmer,” said Panton, smiling.
“I didn’t mean that kind of coolness,” said the mate, heartily. “But it fidgets me about my vessel. See how she’s canted over. I should not be surprised to find her some day sunk out of sight.”
“But you couldn’t find her if she was sunk out of sight,” said Drew, merrily.
“No, no, of course not. How you gents do catch me up.”
“Look here, Mr Rimmer, don’t you worry,” cried Oliver. “Let the vessel be for a bit while we collect. When we have exhausted the place we will all join you heart and soul in any plan to get away; but, dangerous as the island is, I don’t want to leave it yet.”
“Nor I,” said Panton.
“Nor I,” cried Drew.
“All right then, gentlemen. Then we’ll stay as we are for the present, only something must be done about fresh provisions.”
“I’ll start at once shooting, and we can eat all the birds I kill. I only want the skins.”
“And I daresay I can collect a good deal of fruit and some form of vegetables that may be useful,” said Drew.
“That’s good, gentlemen. But first of all, I think we ought to do some fishing.”
“Good,” said Panton. “Why not net one of the big pools?”
“First reason, because we have no drag-net, sir. Second, because there are things in those pools that would tear any net to pieces and take the men who used it as bait.”
“Yes, there are crocodiles, I know.”
“Yes, sir, and a kind of sea-serpent thing in plenty.”
“What!” cried Panton, with a laugh.
“Oh, I don’t mean sea captains’ sea-serpents, sir; but fellows of five, six, or seven feet long. There are plenty of them out in these seas, and some are poisonous, too. No, I don’t think we’ll try the pools, for did we catch any fish I’m afraid they’d be sickly and unwholesome. I propose getting the lines and going to the shore, rowing out to one of those patches of rock just at the opening of the reef; and trying our luck there.”
“I’m ready,” said Oliver, “and we might perhaps get hold of a turtle. We ought to slip a noose round one of the flippers if we see one again.”
“That’s right, sir, we will. A good turtle would be worth having now.”
“When do you propose going?” asked Panton.
“To-day, if you are all willing,” said the mate.
“I’m willing enough if the others are,” cried Oliver, “for it will be a treat to examine the strange tropical fish.”
“What about bait?” asked Drew.
“Oh, a bit or two of salt meat will do to begin with,” said the mate. “I daresay we can catch one or two with that. Then we shall be all right. There is no better bait than a bit of fresh fish to tempt others.”
“Plenty of shell fish, too, in the lagoon,” suggested Oliver.
“Of course, I had forgotten them. An hour’s time? Will that do?”
“Capitally,” they cried.
“Then I’ll go and see about the tackle and some bait for ourselves.”
In less than the suggested time the little party, with four of the sailors to help row and carry the provisions out, and any fish they might catch, back to the ship, were on their way to the shore.
It was a couple of weeks since Oliver’s return, and the eagerness to ascend the mountain was as strong with him as ever; but the attempt had been put off for the present, and in the interval plenty of collecting had been going on, and the mate had enough to do to make things what he called snug.
They passed a couple of pools on the way, and it was evident that they were rapidly drying up, for the shrinking of the water was visible at the edges, and the presence of crocodiles plain enough.
“Will not these places be very offensive when they dry and the fish die?” said Drew, quickly.
“No, sir, the crocs won’t leave any fish to die, and before long they’ll begin travelling down to the sea.”
The shore was reached at last, and all eagerly laid the cocoa-nuts under contribution, the cool, sub-acid milk being most refreshing. Then the boat was run down over the sand by the sailors, launched, and they put off across the calm lagoon, only pausing twice for a few of the soft molluscs to be fished up to act as bait.
A quarter of an hour later the boat was made fast to a mass of coral upon a bare patch of fairly level rock some fifty feet across. It was close to an opening in the reef, where the tide came rushing in and the water was roughened and disturbed, beside possessing the advantage for the fisherman of going down at once quite deep, where they could throw out their lines right into the opening.
Three of these were soon rigged up and baited by the men, Smith devoting himself to Oliver Lane, who stood ready to throw out his lead sinker.
“Aren’t you going to fish too, Mr Rammer?” he asked.
“Not if you can get any, my lad; I’m going to lash this big shark hook on to the end of a long pole and gaff all you catch.”
Oliver laughed.
“You don’t expect that I’m going to catch anything big enough for you to want a hook like that to haul it out?”
“Why not? We haven’t come to catch sprats, sir. Strikes me that if the fish bite, you’ll find you get hold of some thumpers. I’ve fished in these waters before, and I remember what sort of sport I had out in Fiji. Ready?”
“Yes,” said Lane, who had just covered his hook with the tough mussel-like mollusc he had drawn out of a shell.
“Throw in just out yonder, then, right in the opening of the reef where the waves come in.”
Oliver gave his lead a swing and brought it heavily in contact with Smith’s head.
“That aren’t fish, sir, that’s foul,” grumbled the man.
“I beg your pardon, Smith,” cried Oliver, confusedly.
“My fault p’raps, sir. Try again. All right: line’s laid in rings so that it’ll run out.”
Oliver gave the lead another swing and loosed it with so good an aim that it fell twenty yards away right in the swift current rushing through the opening in the reef.
“First in,” he cried. “Look sharp, you two.”
“Mind, sir, quick!” cried Smith, as the line began to run out rapidly, and the man seized the end so as to check it.
“Precious deep,” said Oliver, catching at the line in turn, and in an instant feeling a ring tighten round and cut into his wrist. “Why I’ve hooked one already—a monster. Here, Smith, come and pull.”
“Quick! all of you: lie down!” shouted the mate, excitedly, and he set the example.
“What is it, what’s the matter?” cried Panton.
“You’re to hold me,” said Oliver. “I’ve got hold of a whale, and it will tug me off the rock. Help, please, it’s cutting into my arm.”
“Never mind the fish,” cried the mate, angrily. “Don’t you see? Lie close all of you and they may pass us.”
He pointed as he spoke, and the little party now saw the cause of his excitement, for half a mile away, just coming round a point masked by a clump of cocoa palms, was a large canoe with outrigger, upon which three or four men were perched so as to help balance their vessel, which, crowded with blacks, was literally racing along a short distance from the reef, impelled by its wide-spreading matting sail.
“Friends,” said Panton, excitedly.
“If we were on board our brig and at sea,” said the mate, “but as a shipwrecked party they are foes.”
Chapter Twenty.Strange Sport.Those were exciting moments, especially for Oliver Lane, who, as he lay there with arm outstretched, was very slowly and painfully dragged over the coral rock toward the sea. Every one’s attention was so taken up by the great canoe, that for the moment he was forgotten, and, in spite of his suffering, he felt that he must not yell out for help, for fear of being heard. But just as his position was growing dangerous as well as exciting, Smith saw his peril, and throwing out one hand, took a grip of the line.“Hadn’t I better cut him adrift, sir?” he whispered, huskily.“No, no, hold on fast,” replied Oliver. “That’s better. I’ll hold, as well.”For the help relieved his wrist from the strain that was cutting into the flesh.“Don’t you leave go, sir,” said Smith, hoarsely. “I can’t hold him all alone.”“Silence there!” said the mate. “Sound travels across the water.”“I don’t see that it matters much,” said Panton, softly. “They must see us, for they’re evidently coming straight for this opening into the lagoon.”“I don’t know,” replied the mate. “If they are, they may be friendly, but if they are not, we haven’t so much as a gun with us, and these mop-headed beggars are a terribly bloodthirsty lot. They think nothing of knocking a man on the head, and eating him.”“Raw?” said Panton.“No, no, they make a kind of stone oven, and roast him first.”“Oh, murder!” sighed Wriggs. “Just as if a man was a pig.”“Will you be silent, sir, and lie still? You too, Mr Lane, and that man with you. What is the matter?”“We’re being dragged overboard, sir,” grumbled Smith. “Got a whale, or some’at o’ that kind;” for Oliver was silent, his teeth were set, and he had all his work to do holding on to the line.“Don’t speak and don’t move more than you can help,” whispered the mate. “I want you all to lie here as if you were so much of the coral reef. Now then, Smith, get your knife out and cut the line.”“What, and let that there critter go, sir? He’s a fine ’un, maybe it’s salmon.”“Silence. Out with your knife.”“Can’t, sir. If I let’s go with one hand, it’ll take Mr Lane out to sea. It’s all we can do to hold on.”“Mr Drew, you’re nearest. Keep flat down and crawl to where you can reach the line and cut it through.”Drew made no reply, but as he lay there flat on his face, he took out his knife, opened it, and began to creep along the dozen yards or so toward where Lane and Smith lay perspiring in the sunshine, now getting a few moments’ rest, now fighting hard to hold the great fish as it tugged and dragged vigorously in its efforts to escape.“Sims a pity, sims a pity,” muttered Smith. “Better take a hold, too. Phew! Look at that!”For there was a tremendous whirlpool-like swirl in the disturbed water, and a jerk that promised to dislocate their arms.At the same moment Drew was reaching out to cut the line, but, just as his blade touched the stout cord in front of Lane’s hand, the tension ceased.“He’s coming in shore to see who it is has got hold of the line,” whispered Smith.“No: gone. Broke away,” said Lane, huskily, and then they lay motionless, watching the on-coming canoe, as it rushed over the sea a couple of hundred yards or so from where the great billows curled over upon the coral reef. Now it would be plainly visible with the dancing outrigger, upon which the nearly naked blacks were seated, riding up and down as if upon a see-saw, now it would be hidden by a crest of sparkling spray, which flew up as a larger wave than ordinary struck the reef. The speed at which it was going was tremendous, and so clear was the view at times that the little party on the rocks could make out the great gummed heads of the savages, and see the water glance from the paddles of those who steered.Freed entirely from the strain of the fish dragging at the line, Oliver Lane now had leisure to watch the great canoe, and he at once began to count the number of the enemy, making them to be either thirty-nine or forty powerful-looking blacks, several of whom had ugly-looking clubs, while others bore spears or bows and arrows.On they came toward the opening in the great reef; and as they approached, the canoe was steered farther out, evidently so that she could be headed for the passage and sail through. And as Oliver Lane watched he began to wonder what would be his next adventure—whether the savages would be friendly, or if they would attack the small party who were unarmed.They were not long in doubt, for at the speed at which the canoe sailed, she was soon in a position for heading in, and all the time the party on the rock lay wondering that the savages made no sign. Some of them, if they had seen the party, would certainly have gesticulated, pointed, or made some show of being surprised, but they sailed on just at the edge of the troubled water, made a sweep round, and then, just as Lane felt sure that the enemy would come rushing through the opening with the fierce tide, and float on into the calm water of the lagoon, the mate exclaimed,—“It was to keep from being swept in by the rush of water. They’re going right on south.”“Hooroar!” muttered Wriggs. “I sha’n’t be meat to-day.”“They wouldn’t ha’ touched you, Billy,” whispered Smith, softly. “Too tough.”“Think they’ll turn back, Mr Rimmer?” said Oliver, after a few minutes’ relief from the mental strain.“I’m sure they will, sir,” said the mate, harshly, “if you will persist in talking.”Smith gave his mouth a pat with his open hand, and winked at Wriggs, while the mate went on more softly,—“You do not consider how sound is carried over the water. There! did you hear the creaking of their bamboo mast and the crackling of the matting sail?”These sounds were clear enough for a few moments, but the boom of the breakers smothered them directly, and the party lay watching the canoe as it glided on rapidly south till it was quite evident there was no intention of landing, the savages shaping their course so as to pass round the great point a mile or two distant, and as if meaning to make for the west.Then by degrees the long, slight vessel with its matting sail grew more and more indistinct as it passed into the silvery haze caused by the waves breaking upon the reef; but not until he felt perfectly certain that they were safe, did the mate give the word for the fishing to begin again.“This puts another face upon our position, gentlemen,” he said. “They did not see us this time, but once they know that there is a vessel ashore inland, they’ll be after it like wasps at a plum, and we shall have our work cut out to keep them off.”“They must come from the shore north of the volcano,” said Lane. “Don’t you think so, Mr Rimmer?”“No, sir, I don’t, because I fancy that this must be an island, and if it is, and plays up such games as we have seen, no savages would stay upon it. But we shall see as soon as we have had our expedition.”“Which we ought to have been having to-day,” said Panton, “instead of coming fishing.”“If we had been up north to-day, those gentlemen might have seen us,” said the mate.“And if they had,” said Drew, who was holding his hook for one of the men to bait, “it strikes me that we should have had no more fishing.”“Well, as we have come fishing, gentlemen, let’s see if we can’t take back a good bagful for the hungry lads at the brig.”“Ready for another go, Mr Lane, sir?” said Smith.“Oh, yes, I’m ready, but we don’t want such a big one this time,” replied Oliver, and once more he threw in the lead, a fresh one, for the great fish they had hooked had broken away, carrying with it hooks, snooding, and all.Three lines were soon in now, and the party of fishers waited full of expectancy for the first bite, but for some time there was no sign.“Haul in, sir, and let’s see if the bait’s all right,” said Smith.Oliver followed the suggestion, and dragged in the hook perfectly bare.“Something’s had that,” he said.“Mine’s gone too,” cried Panton, who had followed suit, and directly after Drew found that his bait was also gone.Fresh baits were put on, and they threw into the rushing water again, watching their lines as they were swept to and fro by the coming and retiring waves.“Seems as if there only was one fish, Lane,” said Panton, “and you’ve given him such a dose of hook and lead, that he has gone for good.”The words were hardly out of the young geologist’s lips, before he felt a sharp tug.“Here’s one!” he cried, and beginning to haul in fast, he soon had a bright silvery fish of eight or ten pounds’ weight splashing and darting about at the top of the water.“Dinner for one,” said Drew.“Good for half a dozen, I should say,” cried the mate, laughing. “That’s right, sir, don’t stop to play him. Haul him in quick.”“Murder!” cried Panton. “Look at that.”For as he was drawing in the fast tiring fish level with the surface, there was a sudden gleam of gold, silver, and green, a rush and a check, as a long twining creature suddenly seized the fish, and quick as lightning, wrapped itself round and round it in a knot, doubling the weight, and adding to the resistance by lashing round and round with a flattened tail, whose effect was like that of a screw propeller reversed.“Eel! Snake! Whatever is it?” came from different voices, as Panton ceased dragging on his fish.“Go on! Have him out,” cried the mate.“No, no, steady,” said Oliver. “I think it’s a sea snake, and I believe that some of these creatures are poisonous.”“But it wouldn’t bite out of water,” cried Drew.“I wouldn’t chance it,” said Oliver. “Shake and jerk your line, and it may let go.”Panton followed the advice, and after a few sharp snatches he shook off the creature, but the fish was gone as well.“Taken the hook?” asked the mate.“No, that’s all right.”“I’ve got one,” cried Drew, and a fresh struggle began, while Panton was busied in rebaiting. A few moments later, a bright golden-striped fish was at the top of the water. “Look here, this is something like. I mean to—Oh!”For just as he had his captive about twenty feet from where he stood, a great wide-jawed sharkish-looking creature sprang out of the water, describing an arc, seized Drew’s fish, and was gone.“Oh, I say,” he cried, “we shall never get a dinner like this.”“Follow my example,” said Oliver quietly. “I have one now, a heavy one, too. Nothing like the first I got hold of though,” he continued as he hauled away. “But it’s a fine fellow.”“Haul in as quickly as you can,” said the mate. “Don’t lose this one.”“Just what I am doing,” said Oliver between his teeth, as he hauled away rapidly, and soon had the head of another of the silvery fishes above water. “Now, Smith, be ready. Eh? Well, you, Mr Rimmer, with that hook. Now then, gaff him.”“Gaffed,” said the mate, for instantaneously there was another rush in the water, a splash, and Oliver drew out the head of his prize, the rest having been bitten off as cleanly as a pair of scissors would go through a sprat, just below its gills.The young man turned a comically chagrined face to his unfortunate companions.“I say, this is fishing with a vengeance,” cried Panton.“Starvation sport,” said the mate.“Tommy, old lad,” whispered Wriggs, “I have gone fishing as a boy, and ketched all manner o’ things, heels, gudgeons, roach and dace, and one day I ketched a ’normous jack, as weighed almost a pound. I ketched him with a wurrum, I did, but I never seed no fishing like this here.”“Nobody never said you did, mate,” growled Smith.“Well, we did not come here to catch fish for the big ones to eat,” said the mate. “Have another try, and you must be sharper. Look here, Mr Lane—No, no, don’t take that head off,” he cried, “that will make a splendid bait. Throw it in as it is.”Oliver nodded, threw out the hook and lead again, and saw that the bait must have fallen into a shoal right out in the opening, for there was a tremendous splashing instantly, a drag, and he was fast into another, evidently much larger fish.“Now then, bravo, haul away, my lad,” cried the mate. “You must have this one. Ah! Gone!”“No, not yet,” said Lane, who was hauling away, for a huge fish had dashed at his captive but struck it sidewise, driving it away instead of getting a good grip, and in a few moments the prisoner was close in, but followed by the enemy, which made another dash, its head and shoulders flashing out of the water, close up to the rock. Then it curved over and showed its glittering back and half-moon shaped tail, as it plunged down again, while Lane had his captive well out upon the rock, looking the strangest two-headed monster imaginable, for the hook was fast in its jaws, with the head used for a bait close up alongside, held tightly in place by the beaten-out end of the shank of the line.“Well done: a fifteen pounder,” cried the mate, as the captive was secured, the sailors hurriedly getting it into the biscuit bag they had brought, for fear that it should leap from the rock back into the sea.Five minutes after Drew hooked another fish, but it was carried off by a pursuer and the hook was drawn in bare. Almost at the same moment Panton struck another and then stamped about the rock in a rage, for before he could get it to the land it was seized by a monster, there was a tug, a snap, and hook, snood, and lead were all gone.“We must rig up some different tackle, gentlemen,” said the mate. “You want larger hooks, with twisted wire and swivels. Got him again, Mr Lane?”“Yes, and—ah, there’s another of those sea snake things. Yes, he has carried it off. My word! How strong they are.”“All right, try again, sir. Use that fish’s head once more.”“But it’s so knocked about. Never mind: stick it on, Smith.”“Stuck on it is, sir,” said the man, and it was thrown in, but some minutes elapsed before it was taken, and then not until it was being dragged in, when a fish seized it, was hooked fast, and another struggle commenced, during which, as a snake dashed at it, Oliver gave the line a snatch and baulked the creature. But, quick as lightning, it was at it again, seized it with its teeth, and was in the act of constricting it, when the maddened fish made a tremendous leap out of the water, dragging the writhing snake with it, and again escaping its coils, while, as Oliver made another snatch, he drew the two right out on to the rock, running a few paces so as to get his captive right into the middle.The effect was that the snake was dislodged, and a panic set in as the creature, which was fully six feet long and thick in proportion, began to travel about over the surface of the rock with a rapid serpentine motion, everyone giving way till it reached the side and glided into the water once more.“Why didn’t yer get hold of his tail, Billy?” cried Smith. “Yer might ha’ stopped it. Dessay them sort’s as good eating as heels.”“I should, Tommy, only I thought you wanted to have a mate. But I never see no fishing like this afore.”“Look here, Mr Rimmer,” cried Oliver, just then, and he pointed to the large handsome fish he had taken, showing that a half-moon shaped piece had been bitten clean out of its back by the sea snake. “Do you think this will be good now.”“I should not like to venture upon it,” replied the mate, and, after the bitten piece had been cut thoroughly out, the rest was utilised for making attractive bait, with which they had more or less sport—enough though to enable them to take back full sixty pounds of good fish to the brig, but not until the boat had been run ashore and carefully secured and hidden in the cocoa-nut grove.
Those were exciting moments, especially for Oliver Lane, who, as he lay there with arm outstretched, was very slowly and painfully dragged over the coral rock toward the sea. Every one’s attention was so taken up by the great canoe, that for the moment he was forgotten, and, in spite of his suffering, he felt that he must not yell out for help, for fear of being heard. But just as his position was growing dangerous as well as exciting, Smith saw his peril, and throwing out one hand, took a grip of the line.
“Hadn’t I better cut him adrift, sir?” he whispered, huskily.
“No, no, hold on fast,” replied Oliver. “That’s better. I’ll hold, as well.”
For the help relieved his wrist from the strain that was cutting into the flesh.
“Don’t you leave go, sir,” said Smith, hoarsely. “I can’t hold him all alone.”
“Silence there!” said the mate. “Sound travels across the water.”
“I don’t see that it matters much,” said Panton, softly. “They must see us, for they’re evidently coming straight for this opening into the lagoon.”
“I don’t know,” replied the mate. “If they are, they may be friendly, but if they are not, we haven’t so much as a gun with us, and these mop-headed beggars are a terribly bloodthirsty lot. They think nothing of knocking a man on the head, and eating him.”
“Raw?” said Panton.
“No, no, they make a kind of stone oven, and roast him first.”
“Oh, murder!” sighed Wriggs. “Just as if a man was a pig.”
“Will you be silent, sir, and lie still? You too, Mr Lane, and that man with you. What is the matter?”
“We’re being dragged overboard, sir,” grumbled Smith. “Got a whale, or some’at o’ that kind;” for Oliver was silent, his teeth were set, and he had all his work to do holding on to the line.
“Don’t speak and don’t move more than you can help,” whispered the mate. “I want you all to lie here as if you were so much of the coral reef. Now then, Smith, get your knife out and cut the line.”
“What, and let that there critter go, sir? He’s a fine ’un, maybe it’s salmon.”
“Silence. Out with your knife.”
“Can’t, sir. If I let’s go with one hand, it’ll take Mr Lane out to sea. It’s all we can do to hold on.”
“Mr Drew, you’re nearest. Keep flat down and crawl to where you can reach the line and cut it through.”
Drew made no reply, but as he lay there flat on his face, he took out his knife, opened it, and began to creep along the dozen yards or so toward where Lane and Smith lay perspiring in the sunshine, now getting a few moments’ rest, now fighting hard to hold the great fish as it tugged and dragged vigorously in its efforts to escape.
“Sims a pity, sims a pity,” muttered Smith. “Better take a hold, too. Phew! Look at that!”
For there was a tremendous whirlpool-like swirl in the disturbed water, and a jerk that promised to dislocate their arms.
At the same moment Drew was reaching out to cut the line, but, just as his blade touched the stout cord in front of Lane’s hand, the tension ceased.
“He’s coming in shore to see who it is has got hold of the line,” whispered Smith.
“No: gone. Broke away,” said Lane, huskily, and then they lay motionless, watching the on-coming canoe, as it rushed over the sea a couple of hundred yards or so from where the great billows curled over upon the coral reef. Now it would be plainly visible with the dancing outrigger, upon which the nearly naked blacks were seated, riding up and down as if upon a see-saw, now it would be hidden by a crest of sparkling spray, which flew up as a larger wave than ordinary struck the reef. The speed at which it was going was tremendous, and so clear was the view at times that the little party on the rocks could make out the great gummed heads of the savages, and see the water glance from the paddles of those who steered.
Freed entirely from the strain of the fish dragging at the line, Oliver Lane now had leisure to watch the great canoe, and he at once began to count the number of the enemy, making them to be either thirty-nine or forty powerful-looking blacks, several of whom had ugly-looking clubs, while others bore spears or bows and arrows.
On they came toward the opening in the great reef; and as they approached, the canoe was steered farther out, evidently so that she could be headed for the passage and sail through. And as Oliver Lane watched he began to wonder what would be his next adventure—whether the savages would be friendly, or if they would attack the small party who were unarmed.
They were not long in doubt, for at the speed at which the canoe sailed, she was soon in a position for heading in, and all the time the party on the rock lay wondering that the savages made no sign. Some of them, if they had seen the party, would certainly have gesticulated, pointed, or made some show of being surprised, but they sailed on just at the edge of the troubled water, made a sweep round, and then, just as Lane felt sure that the enemy would come rushing through the opening with the fierce tide, and float on into the calm water of the lagoon, the mate exclaimed,—
“It was to keep from being swept in by the rush of water. They’re going right on south.”
“Hooroar!” muttered Wriggs. “I sha’n’t be meat to-day.”
“They wouldn’t ha’ touched you, Billy,” whispered Smith, softly. “Too tough.”
“Think they’ll turn back, Mr Rimmer?” said Oliver, after a few minutes’ relief from the mental strain.
“I’m sure they will, sir,” said the mate, harshly, “if you will persist in talking.”
Smith gave his mouth a pat with his open hand, and winked at Wriggs, while the mate went on more softly,—
“You do not consider how sound is carried over the water. There! did you hear the creaking of their bamboo mast and the crackling of the matting sail?”
These sounds were clear enough for a few moments, but the boom of the breakers smothered them directly, and the party lay watching the canoe as it glided on rapidly south till it was quite evident there was no intention of landing, the savages shaping their course so as to pass round the great point a mile or two distant, and as if meaning to make for the west.
Then by degrees the long, slight vessel with its matting sail grew more and more indistinct as it passed into the silvery haze caused by the waves breaking upon the reef; but not until he felt perfectly certain that they were safe, did the mate give the word for the fishing to begin again.
“This puts another face upon our position, gentlemen,” he said. “They did not see us this time, but once they know that there is a vessel ashore inland, they’ll be after it like wasps at a plum, and we shall have our work cut out to keep them off.”
“They must come from the shore north of the volcano,” said Lane. “Don’t you think so, Mr Rimmer?”
“No, sir, I don’t, because I fancy that this must be an island, and if it is, and plays up such games as we have seen, no savages would stay upon it. But we shall see as soon as we have had our expedition.”
“Which we ought to have been having to-day,” said Panton, “instead of coming fishing.”
“If we had been up north to-day, those gentlemen might have seen us,” said the mate.
“And if they had,” said Drew, who was holding his hook for one of the men to bait, “it strikes me that we should have had no more fishing.”
“Well, as we have come fishing, gentlemen, let’s see if we can’t take back a good bagful for the hungry lads at the brig.”
“Ready for another go, Mr Lane, sir?” said Smith.
“Oh, yes, I’m ready, but we don’t want such a big one this time,” replied Oliver, and once more he threw in the lead, a fresh one, for the great fish they had hooked had broken away, carrying with it hooks, snooding, and all.
Three lines were soon in now, and the party of fishers waited full of expectancy for the first bite, but for some time there was no sign.
“Haul in, sir, and let’s see if the bait’s all right,” said Smith.
Oliver followed the suggestion, and dragged in the hook perfectly bare.
“Something’s had that,” he said.
“Mine’s gone too,” cried Panton, who had followed suit, and directly after Drew found that his bait was also gone.
Fresh baits were put on, and they threw into the rushing water again, watching their lines as they were swept to and fro by the coming and retiring waves.
“Seems as if there only was one fish, Lane,” said Panton, “and you’ve given him such a dose of hook and lead, that he has gone for good.”
The words were hardly out of the young geologist’s lips, before he felt a sharp tug.
“Here’s one!” he cried, and beginning to haul in fast, he soon had a bright silvery fish of eight or ten pounds’ weight splashing and darting about at the top of the water.
“Dinner for one,” said Drew.
“Good for half a dozen, I should say,” cried the mate, laughing. “That’s right, sir, don’t stop to play him. Haul him in quick.”
“Murder!” cried Panton. “Look at that.”
For as he was drawing in the fast tiring fish level with the surface, there was a sudden gleam of gold, silver, and green, a rush and a check, as a long twining creature suddenly seized the fish, and quick as lightning, wrapped itself round and round it in a knot, doubling the weight, and adding to the resistance by lashing round and round with a flattened tail, whose effect was like that of a screw propeller reversed.
“Eel! Snake! Whatever is it?” came from different voices, as Panton ceased dragging on his fish.
“Go on! Have him out,” cried the mate.
“No, no, steady,” said Oliver. “I think it’s a sea snake, and I believe that some of these creatures are poisonous.”
“But it wouldn’t bite out of water,” cried Drew.
“I wouldn’t chance it,” said Oliver. “Shake and jerk your line, and it may let go.”
Panton followed the advice, and after a few sharp snatches he shook off the creature, but the fish was gone as well.
“Taken the hook?” asked the mate.
“No, that’s all right.”
“I’ve got one,” cried Drew, and a fresh struggle began, while Panton was busied in rebaiting. A few moments later, a bright golden-striped fish was at the top of the water. “Look here, this is something like. I mean to—Oh!”
For just as he had his captive about twenty feet from where he stood, a great wide-jawed sharkish-looking creature sprang out of the water, describing an arc, seized Drew’s fish, and was gone.
“Oh, I say,” he cried, “we shall never get a dinner like this.”
“Follow my example,” said Oliver quietly. “I have one now, a heavy one, too. Nothing like the first I got hold of though,” he continued as he hauled away. “But it’s a fine fellow.”
“Haul in as quickly as you can,” said the mate. “Don’t lose this one.”
“Just what I am doing,” said Oliver between his teeth, as he hauled away rapidly, and soon had the head of another of the silvery fishes above water. “Now, Smith, be ready. Eh? Well, you, Mr Rimmer, with that hook. Now then, gaff him.”
“Gaffed,” said the mate, for instantaneously there was another rush in the water, a splash, and Oliver drew out the head of his prize, the rest having been bitten off as cleanly as a pair of scissors would go through a sprat, just below its gills.
The young man turned a comically chagrined face to his unfortunate companions.
“I say, this is fishing with a vengeance,” cried Panton.
“Starvation sport,” said the mate.
“Tommy, old lad,” whispered Wriggs, “I have gone fishing as a boy, and ketched all manner o’ things, heels, gudgeons, roach and dace, and one day I ketched a ’normous jack, as weighed almost a pound. I ketched him with a wurrum, I did, but I never seed no fishing like this here.”
“Nobody never said you did, mate,” growled Smith.
“Well, we did not come here to catch fish for the big ones to eat,” said the mate. “Have another try, and you must be sharper. Look here, Mr Lane—No, no, don’t take that head off,” he cried, “that will make a splendid bait. Throw it in as it is.”
Oliver nodded, threw out the hook and lead again, and saw that the bait must have fallen into a shoal right out in the opening, for there was a tremendous splashing instantly, a drag, and he was fast into another, evidently much larger fish.
“Now then, bravo, haul away, my lad,” cried the mate. “You must have this one. Ah! Gone!”
“No, not yet,” said Lane, who was hauling away, for a huge fish had dashed at his captive but struck it sidewise, driving it away instead of getting a good grip, and in a few moments the prisoner was close in, but followed by the enemy, which made another dash, its head and shoulders flashing out of the water, close up to the rock. Then it curved over and showed its glittering back and half-moon shaped tail, as it plunged down again, while Lane had his captive well out upon the rock, looking the strangest two-headed monster imaginable, for the hook was fast in its jaws, with the head used for a bait close up alongside, held tightly in place by the beaten-out end of the shank of the line.
“Well done: a fifteen pounder,” cried the mate, as the captive was secured, the sailors hurriedly getting it into the biscuit bag they had brought, for fear that it should leap from the rock back into the sea.
Five minutes after Drew hooked another fish, but it was carried off by a pursuer and the hook was drawn in bare. Almost at the same moment Panton struck another and then stamped about the rock in a rage, for before he could get it to the land it was seized by a monster, there was a tug, a snap, and hook, snood, and lead were all gone.
“We must rig up some different tackle, gentlemen,” said the mate. “You want larger hooks, with twisted wire and swivels. Got him again, Mr Lane?”
“Yes, and—ah, there’s another of those sea snake things. Yes, he has carried it off. My word! How strong they are.”
“All right, try again, sir. Use that fish’s head once more.”
“But it’s so knocked about. Never mind: stick it on, Smith.”
“Stuck on it is, sir,” said the man, and it was thrown in, but some minutes elapsed before it was taken, and then not until it was being dragged in, when a fish seized it, was hooked fast, and another struggle commenced, during which, as a snake dashed at it, Oliver gave the line a snatch and baulked the creature. But, quick as lightning, it was at it again, seized it with its teeth, and was in the act of constricting it, when the maddened fish made a tremendous leap out of the water, dragging the writhing snake with it, and again escaping its coils, while, as Oliver made another snatch, he drew the two right out on to the rock, running a few paces so as to get his captive right into the middle.
The effect was that the snake was dislodged, and a panic set in as the creature, which was fully six feet long and thick in proportion, began to travel about over the surface of the rock with a rapid serpentine motion, everyone giving way till it reached the side and glided into the water once more.
“Why didn’t yer get hold of his tail, Billy?” cried Smith. “Yer might ha’ stopped it. Dessay them sort’s as good eating as heels.”
“I should, Tommy, only I thought you wanted to have a mate. But I never see no fishing like this afore.”
“Look here, Mr Rimmer,” cried Oliver, just then, and he pointed to the large handsome fish he had taken, showing that a half-moon shaped piece had been bitten clean out of its back by the sea snake. “Do you think this will be good now.”
“I should not like to venture upon it,” replied the mate, and, after the bitten piece had been cut thoroughly out, the rest was utilised for making attractive bait, with which they had more or less sport—enough though to enable them to take back full sixty pounds of good fish to the brig, but not until the boat had been run ashore and carefully secured and hidden in the cocoa-nut grove.