Chapter Forty Four.How Matters got to the Worst.It took Mark some minutes to get rid of the confused, half-stupefied sensation that remains after a very deep sleep when the sleeper is suddenly awakened; but as his head cleared he found himself threading his way among the rocks behind his father and crossing the lower part of the arm which separated Crater Bay from the lagoon. Once the highest part was cleared and they were descending toward the black waters the captain caught his son’s arm.“You may speak now in a whisper,” he said. “The rocks are between us and the Malays.”“Have they come then, father?”“Yes; Morgan heard them come stealing along the lagoon in the darkest part of the night, and they are lying less than a quarter of a mile away.”“Do they know we are here?”“I hope not, my boy; but when daylight comes they are sure to come over into the bay, and—”He stopped short, for a vivid light flashed out, and for a moment Mark could see the black bay, the wreck, the little cutter-like vessel lying by her, and a group of people down below them at the water’s edge.“Lightning?” said Mark.“No; it is from the mountain.”As he spoke there was a dull vibration and a low rumbling sound, as if some heavy body had passed heavily beneath their feet.“What are we going to do?” asked Mark eagerly.“Escape if we can,” said the captain. “We cannot take the ladies inland. The jungle about here is impassable.”“Then you are going to steal away?”“Yes, my lad, if we can get aboard. We ought to have got the boat across last night, Mark, instead of leaving it till now.”“Are they going to get it across the point now?”“Yes,” replied the captain; and at that moment they were joined by Gregory, Morgan, Small, and the major.“Ready?” said the captain.“Yes,” replied Gregory. “Come along, my lads.”Three men came up and stood waiting for orders, and the major joined the captain.“You understand,” said the captain, “there must not be a sound. If there is, we are lost.”“I understand,” said Gregory gruffly.“Have you got everything out?”“Everything. She’s light enough now.”“Come, major, then,” said the captain. “You must be guard, Mark. Go with the major, and help to take care of the ladies. No, stop. Perhaps you can help me pick out the best route for the boat, but mind only one person has to speak, and that is I. Get rid of that dog.”Mark hesitated for a moment, and then laying hold of Bruff’s ears, the dog followed him eagerly to where the ladies stood together shivering with anxiety in the darkness.“Keep Bruff with you, mother,” he whispered; and then, after a stern order to the dog to lie down, he hurried back over the black sand, and found the little party threading its way among the rocks and over the ridge to reach the spot where the gig lay drawn out of the water of the lagoon.They all halted for a few moments as Mark joined them, and just then a vivid glare of light shone out, showing them plainly the hulls of three long low boats lying out in the lagoon, whose waters quivered, and looked for the moment as if of molten steel.Then all was pitchy darkness, and through it came the sound of voices.“They have seen us,” said Morgan excitedly.“No,” said Captain Strong, “we were in the shadow. Now, then, three on each side. I’ll lead. Slowly does it. Mark, my boy, go to the stern; you may keep it from touching the rock. Every pound of help will be worth something now.”Mark eagerly went as directed, and the next minute, with three strong men on either side, the gig was lifted up, and borne softly forward almost without a sound, the party listening intently to the loud jabbering going on aboard the praus.The task was fairly easy at first, for it was for some distance over the nearly level sand that the gig was carried, but soon rocks began to crop up in their path, and in spite of the care exercised the keel of the boat suddenly grated loudly upon a projecting piece of stone; an effort was made to slew her round slightly to avoid it, and this caused Mr Gregory to catch his foot on another block of stone, and nearly fall.The captain uttered a loud “Hist!” and all stood fast, with beating hearts, for a loud voice spoke in Malay, and the jabbering on board the boats ceased, as if all were listening to try and make out what the unusual noise was ashore.Just at this moment there was another vivid flash from the mountain, and the praus could be plainly seen, while now the little party by the boat realised how thoroughly they were in the shadow of the black rocks.“If there is a blaze like that when we are on the top of the ridge,” whispered the captain, “we shall be seen.”Not another word was spoken, and for quite a quarter of an hour there was an ominous silence as they all waited for the talking to begin again on board the vessels.But there was not a sound, and it was evident that the crews were listening, when suddenly Morgan laid his hand upon the captain’s arm, and pointed in the direction of the lagoon about half-way between them and the praus.Every one grasped the meaning, and a chill of dread ran through Mark, in whose mind’s eye wavy krisses were flashed and razor-edged spears darted, for there, plainly enough, as shown by the flashing and undulating of the luminous creatures of the water, which they knew so well, two men were swimming ashore, to see what was the cause of the noise.“It means fighting,” said the captain.“Why not leave the boat, father, and get aboard the cutter at once?”“How?” said the captain coldly. “Wade through water five hundred feet deep?”Mark felt as if he could have bitten off his tongue, and then his heart seemed to stand still, for there suddenly arose a shriek from the lagoon—a shriek that was terrible in its agonising intensity; there was the sound of splashing, and the water became ablaze with a beautiful lambent phosphorescent light, while there was an outburst of yelling and shouting on board the praus, accompanied by tremendous splashing, as if the water was being beaten with the oars.“Quick! All together!” said the captain hoarsely. “Now, forward!”The men were so paralysed with horror as they each for himself pictured the fearful scene of two Malay sailors swimming ashore, and being attacked by the sharks, that for a few moments no one stirred. Then with the hubbub and splashing increasing, and the water being, as it were, churned up into liquid fire, the sides of the boat were seized, and it was borne over and among the rocks to the very ridge, and then, with a feeling of relief that it is impossible to describe, down lower and lower, with the sounds dying out; while Mark, who was last, felt that if the horror had been continued much longer, it would have been greater than he could have borne, and he must have stopped his ears and run.“I don’t think they can hear us now,” said the captain. “Hah!”There was a tremendous flash, accompanied by a deafening roar from the mountain, and the whole of the bay, with its overhanging blackened rocks, were for a few moments illumined by the quivering light, so that everything was as distinct as if it were noon.Then all was pitchy blackness again, and the thunderous roar died slowly away, as the thunder mutters into silence in a storm.“That was a narrow escape from being seen,” said the captain, cheerily. “Two minutes sooner, and we should have been in full view. All together, the ground is getting clearer now.”“If we might only give one good hooray, Mr Mark, sir,” said a familiar voice, “it would seem to do us good;” and the lad realised that it was Billy Widgeon who had been working all along close to his elbow.Mark felt with the man, for in his own breast there was an intense desire to cry out or shout, or give some vent to the pent-up excitement. But there was plenty to take up their attention, for the captain, now that the ridge was between them and their enemies, hastened their steps, in spite of the blackness, so that, after a few slips, and a narrow escape of breaking in the bows of the boat through a sudden fall upon an awkwardly-placed rock, she was safely run down to the edge of the crater, and the oars, mast, and sail replaced.The next proceeding was to get the ladies on board the little cutter, which lay some twenty fathoms from the sands, and in darkness and silence they were handed into the gig, and were half-way to the little vessel, when, without warning, a vivid light flashed out from the mountain, and the oars ceased to dip.But this was no lightning-like flash, but a continuous glow, which lit up jungle, rock, and the black waters of the bay, while every eye was turned in the direction of the ridge in expectation of seeing the praus plainly standing out in the glare.Fortunately, the ridge was sufficiently high to conceal the occupants of the boat, and in place of the light proving their betrayal, it aided the embarkation, the boat going on at the end of the next few minutes, and all climbing safely on board. Then the gig was secured by a rope astern, and there was nothing now to be done but wait till daylight, and then trust to being able to escape by running southward along the lagoon before the praus could get round the northern arm of the little bay.“Look at that,” cried Billy Widgeon suddenly, as the light flashed out as quickly as it had appeared, the glowing scene changing instantaneously to the most intense darkness, while now a peculiar odour began to pervade the air, a suffocating hot puff coming from the land, charged with sulphurous vapours.Everything was ready for a start, but there was one thing needful, light, for the risk was too great to attempt to get round the southern point in the darkness. It was dangerous with the gig, but they had learned the positions of the rocks by heart, and could come round now with ease. With a boat drawing so much water, however, as the cutter, it was different, and the course necessary so intricate, that, tremendously in their favour as a start would now be, the captain dared not run the risk.“It’s death to stay,” said Gregory, as they stood in a group waiting for day.“It’s death to go,” said the captain gloomily. “One touch on a sharp rock, and we shall fill, or be fast.”“Well, Strong,” said the major, “I don’t like to interfere in your navigating matters, but in this case, as a soldier, I say if we are to die, let’s die like Englishmen trying our best.”“We are trying our best, Major O’Halloran,” said the captain coldly.“Yes, my dear fellow; but for Heaven’s sake let’s start.”“What should you do, Mark?” said the captain, laying his hand on his son’s shoulder.Mark was silent for a moment or two, and then said huskily:“I don’t like going against your opinion, father, but I should start now.”“In the darkness?”“Yes. It seems to be our only chance.”The captain made no verbal reply, but took out his knife, and stepping to where the rope passed out from the stern, mooring them to a crag of rock that seemed to rise from unfathomable depths, he divided the strands, and the rope fell with a splash in the water. Then, going to the bows, where the other rope ran to one of the timbers of thePetrel, he cut that, and there was another splash.Then giving his orders, a couple of the men passed sweeps over the side with the greatest of care, and the head of the cutter began to turn, and she was moving slowly toward the mouth of the bay when once more the intense darkness was cut as by a knife, and the little vessel seemed to be destined to have a light as clear almost as day for making her way round into the lagoon, where she could catch the wind and escape.
It took Mark some minutes to get rid of the confused, half-stupefied sensation that remains after a very deep sleep when the sleeper is suddenly awakened; but as his head cleared he found himself threading his way among the rocks behind his father and crossing the lower part of the arm which separated Crater Bay from the lagoon. Once the highest part was cleared and they were descending toward the black waters the captain caught his son’s arm.
“You may speak now in a whisper,” he said. “The rocks are between us and the Malays.”
“Have they come then, father?”
“Yes; Morgan heard them come stealing along the lagoon in the darkest part of the night, and they are lying less than a quarter of a mile away.”
“Do they know we are here?”
“I hope not, my boy; but when daylight comes they are sure to come over into the bay, and—”
He stopped short, for a vivid light flashed out, and for a moment Mark could see the black bay, the wreck, the little cutter-like vessel lying by her, and a group of people down below them at the water’s edge.
“Lightning?” said Mark.
“No; it is from the mountain.”
As he spoke there was a dull vibration and a low rumbling sound, as if some heavy body had passed heavily beneath their feet.
“What are we going to do?” asked Mark eagerly.
“Escape if we can,” said the captain. “We cannot take the ladies inland. The jungle about here is impassable.”
“Then you are going to steal away?”
“Yes, my lad, if we can get aboard. We ought to have got the boat across last night, Mark, instead of leaving it till now.”
“Are they going to get it across the point now?”
“Yes,” replied the captain; and at that moment they were joined by Gregory, Morgan, Small, and the major.
“Ready?” said the captain.
“Yes,” replied Gregory. “Come along, my lads.”
Three men came up and stood waiting for orders, and the major joined the captain.
“You understand,” said the captain, “there must not be a sound. If there is, we are lost.”
“I understand,” said Gregory gruffly.
“Have you got everything out?”
“Everything. She’s light enough now.”
“Come, major, then,” said the captain. “You must be guard, Mark. Go with the major, and help to take care of the ladies. No, stop. Perhaps you can help me pick out the best route for the boat, but mind only one person has to speak, and that is I. Get rid of that dog.”
Mark hesitated for a moment, and then laying hold of Bruff’s ears, the dog followed him eagerly to where the ladies stood together shivering with anxiety in the darkness.
“Keep Bruff with you, mother,” he whispered; and then, after a stern order to the dog to lie down, he hurried back over the black sand, and found the little party threading its way among the rocks and over the ridge to reach the spot where the gig lay drawn out of the water of the lagoon.
They all halted for a few moments as Mark joined them, and just then a vivid glare of light shone out, showing them plainly the hulls of three long low boats lying out in the lagoon, whose waters quivered, and looked for the moment as if of molten steel.
Then all was pitchy darkness, and through it came the sound of voices.
“They have seen us,” said Morgan excitedly.
“No,” said Captain Strong, “we were in the shadow. Now, then, three on each side. I’ll lead. Slowly does it. Mark, my boy, go to the stern; you may keep it from touching the rock. Every pound of help will be worth something now.”
Mark eagerly went as directed, and the next minute, with three strong men on either side, the gig was lifted up, and borne softly forward almost without a sound, the party listening intently to the loud jabbering going on aboard the praus.
The task was fairly easy at first, for it was for some distance over the nearly level sand that the gig was carried, but soon rocks began to crop up in their path, and in spite of the care exercised the keel of the boat suddenly grated loudly upon a projecting piece of stone; an effort was made to slew her round slightly to avoid it, and this caused Mr Gregory to catch his foot on another block of stone, and nearly fall.
The captain uttered a loud “Hist!” and all stood fast, with beating hearts, for a loud voice spoke in Malay, and the jabbering on board the boats ceased, as if all were listening to try and make out what the unusual noise was ashore.
Just at this moment there was another vivid flash from the mountain, and the praus could be plainly seen, while now the little party by the boat realised how thoroughly they were in the shadow of the black rocks.
“If there is a blaze like that when we are on the top of the ridge,” whispered the captain, “we shall be seen.”
Not another word was spoken, and for quite a quarter of an hour there was an ominous silence as they all waited for the talking to begin again on board the vessels.
But there was not a sound, and it was evident that the crews were listening, when suddenly Morgan laid his hand upon the captain’s arm, and pointed in the direction of the lagoon about half-way between them and the praus.
Every one grasped the meaning, and a chill of dread ran through Mark, in whose mind’s eye wavy krisses were flashed and razor-edged spears darted, for there, plainly enough, as shown by the flashing and undulating of the luminous creatures of the water, which they knew so well, two men were swimming ashore, to see what was the cause of the noise.
“It means fighting,” said the captain.
“Why not leave the boat, father, and get aboard the cutter at once?”
“How?” said the captain coldly. “Wade through water five hundred feet deep?”
Mark felt as if he could have bitten off his tongue, and then his heart seemed to stand still, for there suddenly arose a shriek from the lagoon—a shriek that was terrible in its agonising intensity; there was the sound of splashing, and the water became ablaze with a beautiful lambent phosphorescent light, while there was an outburst of yelling and shouting on board the praus, accompanied by tremendous splashing, as if the water was being beaten with the oars.
“Quick! All together!” said the captain hoarsely. “Now, forward!”
The men were so paralysed with horror as they each for himself pictured the fearful scene of two Malay sailors swimming ashore, and being attacked by the sharks, that for a few moments no one stirred. Then with the hubbub and splashing increasing, and the water being, as it were, churned up into liquid fire, the sides of the boat were seized, and it was borne over and among the rocks to the very ridge, and then, with a feeling of relief that it is impossible to describe, down lower and lower, with the sounds dying out; while Mark, who was last, felt that if the horror had been continued much longer, it would have been greater than he could have borne, and he must have stopped his ears and run.
“I don’t think they can hear us now,” said the captain. “Hah!”
There was a tremendous flash, accompanied by a deafening roar from the mountain, and the whole of the bay, with its overhanging blackened rocks, were for a few moments illumined by the quivering light, so that everything was as distinct as if it were noon.
Then all was pitchy blackness again, and the thunderous roar died slowly away, as the thunder mutters into silence in a storm.
“That was a narrow escape from being seen,” said the captain, cheerily. “Two minutes sooner, and we should have been in full view. All together, the ground is getting clearer now.”
“If we might only give one good hooray, Mr Mark, sir,” said a familiar voice, “it would seem to do us good;” and the lad realised that it was Billy Widgeon who had been working all along close to his elbow.
Mark felt with the man, for in his own breast there was an intense desire to cry out or shout, or give some vent to the pent-up excitement. But there was plenty to take up their attention, for the captain, now that the ridge was between them and their enemies, hastened their steps, in spite of the blackness, so that, after a few slips, and a narrow escape of breaking in the bows of the boat through a sudden fall upon an awkwardly-placed rock, she was safely run down to the edge of the crater, and the oars, mast, and sail replaced.
The next proceeding was to get the ladies on board the little cutter, which lay some twenty fathoms from the sands, and in darkness and silence they were handed into the gig, and were half-way to the little vessel, when, without warning, a vivid light flashed out from the mountain, and the oars ceased to dip.
But this was no lightning-like flash, but a continuous glow, which lit up jungle, rock, and the black waters of the bay, while every eye was turned in the direction of the ridge in expectation of seeing the praus plainly standing out in the glare.
Fortunately, the ridge was sufficiently high to conceal the occupants of the boat, and in place of the light proving their betrayal, it aided the embarkation, the boat going on at the end of the next few minutes, and all climbing safely on board. Then the gig was secured by a rope astern, and there was nothing now to be done but wait till daylight, and then trust to being able to escape by running southward along the lagoon before the praus could get round the northern arm of the little bay.
“Look at that,” cried Billy Widgeon suddenly, as the light flashed out as quickly as it had appeared, the glowing scene changing instantaneously to the most intense darkness, while now a peculiar odour began to pervade the air, a suffocating hot puff coming from the land, charged with sulphurous vapours.
Everything was ready for a start, but there was one thing needful, light, for the risk was too great to attempt to get round the southern point in the darkness. It was dangerous with the gig, but they had learned the positions of the rocks by heart, and could come round now with ease. With a boat drawing so much water, however, as the cutter, it was different, and the course necessary so intricate, that, tremendously in their favour as a start would now be, the captain dared not run the risk.
“It’s death to stay,” said Gregory, as they stood in a group waiting for day.
“It’s death to go,” said the captain gloomily. “One touch on a sharp rock, and we shall fill, or be fast.”
“Well, Strong,” said the major, “I don’t like to interfere in your navigating matters, but in this case, as a soldier, I say if we are to die, let’s die like Englishmen trying our best.”
“We are trying our best, Major O’Halloran,” said the captain coldly.
“Yes, my dear fellow; but for Heaven’s sake let’s start.”
“What should you do, Mark?” said the captain, laying his hand on his son’s shoulder.
Mark was silent for a moment or two, and then said huskily:
“I don’t like going against your opinion, father, but I should start now.”
“In the darkness?”
“Yes. It seems to be our only chance.”
The captain made no verbal reply, but took out his knife, and stepping to where the rope passed out from the stern, mooring them to a crag of rock that seemed to rise from unfathomable depths, he divided the strands, and the rope fell with a splash in the water. Then, going to the bows, where the other rope ran to one of the timbers of thePetrel, he cut that, and there was another splash.
Then giving his orders, a couple of the men passed sweeps over the side with the greatest of care, and the head of the cutter began to turn, and she was moving slowly toward the mouth of the bay when once more the intense darkness was cut as by a knife, and the little vessel seemed to be destined to have a light as clear almost as day for making her way round into the lagoon, where she could catch the wind and escape.
Chapter Forty Five.How Nature seemed a Foe.The distance was not great, and as Captain Strong gazed before him, knowing, as he did, the perils to be encountered, he hesitated, and was disposed to stay. But the first step had been taken, and, giving his orders in a whisper, he went to the helm, while Gregory and Morgan prepared to hoist the sail, and the men bent steadily to their long oars.The light increased, and there seemed to be nothing to prevent the little vessel from passing safely round the southern point, for the water looked smoothness itself; but none knew better than the captain the rocks that were in his path, while away to his right over the northern arm of the bay lay three praus teeming with bloodthirsty savage men who would be ready to rush in pursuit the moment they were seen.It was a painful dilemma for the captain, who had, however, been longing to make his present venture, but shrank therefrom as too risky till opinions other than his own urged his attempt. But there was his position. If he kept to the darkness, wreck seemed certain; if to the light, he must be seen.And now the light was most vivid, but still he kept on, the little cutter gliding slowly on over water that seemed to be golden, while Mark held his breath as he watched the northern point till by slow degrees first one and then another and then the third of the praus came full into view with their rough rigging and cordage distinctly seen in the glowing light.Other eyes than Mark’s watched the praus, and it was a matter of surprise to all that the cutter went on and on to the second passage through the rocks off the south point, round which, if they were fortunate, she would be able to pass—the first passage being only safe for the gig—while the praus, if they started in pursuit, would have to sail out quite half a mile before they could round their point, and as great a distance back, which would give the fugitives a good start along the lagoon.No one spoke as the cutter glided slowly on, the sweeps dipping regularly and almost without a sound. For fully five minutes this continued, but to all on board, as they crouched down for the shelter of the low bulwark, it seemed more like five hours. There they were in full sight of the praus, but not a sound reached them, and in a whisper the captain said to Mark, who was at his side:“They must be all asleep. Oh for a little wind!”But there was not a breath of air nor even a hot blast from the mountain, and in spite of the agonising desire to escape they could only creep slowly over the golden water in a terribly sluggish motion, though two men toiled hard now at each sweep.Suddenly, and with a spontaneity which showed how suddenly they had been perceived, a tremendous yell arose from the occupants of the praus.“Now, Strong,” cried the major, as a thrill of horror ran through the occupants of the little cutter, “war is declared.”“Be ready with that sail,” said the captain; but his words were not needed, for his two officers were standing with the ropes in their hands, and at a word the mainsail would have been hoisted.The yelling continued and the thrill increased, for from moment to moment the escaping party expected to hear the sharp ring of the brass guns of the Malays and to have their tin bullets whizzing overhead.It was a curious position, for the yelling of the Malays was as that of so many wild beasts unable to reach their prey, the long low spit of rocky sand lying between them and the bay, and near as they were now, they could only attack by rowing or sailing right out to where the current ran swiftly and tumultuously about the point, rounding it, and then making straight for the bay.“They are going to fire,” said the captain quietly as he stood at the tiller; “everyone but the men at the sweeps lie down or keep below.”“Which order does not apply to me, Mark,” said the major coolly. “I’m an officer. Lie down, sir! Do you want to be shot?”“Certainly not, sir,” replied Mark, who, in spite of his dread and excitement, could not help feeling amused at the major’s satisfied air, and the way in which he seemed to play with his gun.Bang! A sharp ringing report from a lelah as the praus began to move, and the charge of tin bullets came screaming overhead as the report echoed from the rocks that surrounded the bay.“Bad shot at close quarters,” said the major; “and they are moving off. Can’t you whistle for the wind and let’s show them our heels!”“The wind will come as soon as we get out beyond the shelter of the point,” said the captain. “Pull, my lads.”The men tugged at the long sweeps, but the cutter was so substantial and heavily-built that she moved very slowly through the water, beside which, it was extremely nervous work to keep on pulling while at intervals of a few minutes there came a shot from one or other of the receding praus. Still they progressed, and if once they could get over a few hundred yards there was a prospect of their clearing the rocks off the south point and getting well along the lagoon.Shot after shot, some whistling by the mast, some striking the water, and others going before or behind, but not one touched the cutter, and as the three praus rowed out and grew more distant the practice became more wild.“Ah!” said the major, “being shot at is very exciting; but I don’t think I like it after all. How are you setting on, Mark?”“I’m all right, sir.”“Well, ladies, we shall not have breakfast till two hours after sunrise,” said the major, as he bent over the entrance to the rough cabin where they were sheltered, “so I should advise a short nap.”A sad smile was the only reply to the major’s cheery remark, and he nodded and then sighed as he turned to the captain.“Cease firing, eh?” he said as there was a cessation. “They must be near the end of the point. Now, Strong.”“In another ten minutes they will be round it, and—what’s that, Gregory? Did we touch on a rock?”“No,” said the mate. “It’s deep water here.”There was another shock as if the cutter had gone upon a rock; but she went slowly on.“Earthquake,” said the major. “The mountain seems uneasy.”Almost as he spoke there was another shock communicated through the water, which suddenly boiled up and eddied about them, making the cutter rock to and fro and then roll heavily.“Pull, my lads!” said the captain; and the men tugged furiously as their commander looked anxiously out toward the north point, round which the praus were faintly seen in the glow from the mountain, and then gazing round him at the black rocks of the little bay and its uneasy waters.“No fear of their pulling,” thought Mark, “if they feel as I do in this black hole!”In fact the men were thoroughly sharing the horror of the lad, and sparing no efforts to get out of the water-filled ancient crater into the smooth lagoon.For the black water that always lay so smooth and calm was now rapidly changing its character, and there was no doubt that a tremendous amount of volcanic action was going on beneath their feet. The surface heaved and eddied; waves rose in unexpected places; huge bubbles rushed to the top from the terrible depths below and burst with a loud puff. And all the time the cutter swayed and seemed to be receiving a succession of blows below water-mark, always suggesting rocks about her keel.But still with the indomitable energy of Englishmen the long oars were used, and the little vessel moved forward till they were so near the point that in another ten minutes the captain felt that they would have the wind and be able to sail steadily along between the rocks where he had mapped out and sounded his course.It was an awful piece of navigation, but he had no fear if they could only catch the wind.Still there was that hundred yards to clear; and now, favoured by the currents that played round the north point, it was evident that at least one of the praus had cleared it and was coming down upon them straight for the bay. There was the loud rhythmical yelling of the men shouting together, and the slow beat of the sweeps as they rowed vigorously; while the two long oars of the cutter, only intended to help her out of harbour in a calm, hardly gave her headway.The glare from the mountain increased so that every object was plainly seen; and Mark could not help gazing at the wondrous aspect of the mountain, the top of which emitted a light of dazzling brilliancy, while a thin streak of red seemed to be stealing in a zigzag fashion from one side.Then there was a tremendous burst as if of thunder; a rushing, hissing noise, as if a shower of stones had been hurled into the sky; and then all was darkness for a few moments.“Blown out!” said the major laconically as if he were speaking of a candle; but the words had hardly left his lips before with a frightful explosion the mountain blazed forth again, with the glare far more intense, and showing the prau they had dimly-seen before coming on fast.“The eruption does not seem to scare them,” said the captain.“Well, it does me,” said the major. “It’s a kind of warfare I don’t understand.” Then in a whisper which Mark heard: “Shall we get round the point, or must we fight for it?”“Unless we catch the wind,” replied the captain, “they will be down upon us first; and then—”“We must fight for it,” said the major coolly. “Well, fortunately we are well prepared. Look here, Strong, you keep on with your navigation as long as you like, while I have the fighting tools ready. The moment retreat is useless, say the word and we’ll show fight.”Captain Strong gave his hand a grip, and then stood gazing straight before him perfectly unmoved.The position was one that would have blanched the cheek of the bravest man. For there in front was the prau coming rapidly on, full of bloodthirsty pirates, who had ceased firing as they saw their prey within their grasp; while behind was the volcano, whose eruption was minute by minute growing more terrible, and around them the luridly lit-up waters of the old crater in which they were, boiling up, hissing, and emitting great puffs of steam, where, as the cutter rocked and plunged, it seemed to be only a matter of moments before she would be engulfed—sucked down, as it were, into the awful depths below!Gregory and Morgan stood ready to hoist the sail, but there was not a breath of air where the cutter lay. It was one awful calm, with the glow from the volcano seeming to scorch their cheeks, though high overhead there was a rushing sound as of a mighty wind setting toward the burning mountain, which now began to hurl volleys of red-hot stones through the dense cloud which hung above the top, and reflected the light far and wide upon the sea.“Hopeless!” said the captain suddenly. “Arm, major, and let’s fight it out like men! Stop!” he cried; “the boat—the shore!”“Bah!” ejaculated the major angrily. “Are we fishes, captain, that you want to send us out of the frying-pan into the fire?”He pointed to the shore as he spoke, and the captain grasped the horror of the scene. It would, he knew, be madness to land, for there were signs of fire now in place after place among the rocks; while before they could have crowded into the gig and tried to row to sea the Malays would have been upon them—shut in as they were in the bay, which was literally a trap.Just then, too, the water began to heave and toss, huge geyser-like fountains shot up and fell back with a fearful hissing sound, and, as the light gig was tossed on high, the madness of attempting to crowd into her was manifest to all.The arms were passed round, and every man’s eyes glistened in the ruddy glare as with a furious yelling the prau came on, the water looking like golden foam on either side, and the glint of spears flashing out from her crowded bamboo deck.“Don’t fire till you can make sure of your man!” said the major sternly; and a low murmur arose from the little group behind the cutter’s bulwarks, which told in its fierce intensity that if stubborn determination could save the helpless women crouching below they had nought to fear.The prau was not fifty yards away now, and seemed to be glowing as if red-hot in the glare shed by the golden cloud above the mountain. The sight of their prey so close at hand set the Malays yelling more fiercely than ever, and at a shout the sweeps ceased beating the water, and every man seized his arms, when there was a peculiar hissing sound heard; the cutter heeled over, then righted, and, to the wonder and horror of all on board, she began to turn round slowly as upon an axis, as if preparatory to being sucked down into a frightful whirlpool. In one short minute she had turned twice, and then, as if caught in some mighty current, began to glide rapidly round the bay at first toward the burning mountain, and then outward to sea.For the moment the horror and strangeness of their position made all on board forget their enemies, among whom a terrible silence had fallen, but as the captain glanced in the direction of the praus he saw that the distance between them had increased, and that, caught in the same wondrous current, the enemy’s vessel was being carried rapidly out to sea.The force of the current increased till they seemed to be rolling along the surface of some cataract, and in a few minutes, as everyone clung to bulwark or stay, the distance they had striven so hard to compass was passed again and again, for the sea was shrinking from the isle and they were being carried out on the retiring wave.They were now opposite the rocks that they had striven to pass, while the prau, lighter in construction, was a hundred yards away. The hissing, rushing sound of the retiring water was terrible, and in blank despair in face of this awful convulsion of nature all gazed wildly before them, when all at once there was a sharp shock, the cutter heeled over a little, and this time there could be no mistake, she had struck upon the rocks of the north point or arm of Crater Bay, and the sea was retiring from them and leaving them fast.
The distance was not great, and as Captain Strong gazed before him, knowing, as he did, the perils to be encountered, he hesitated, and was disposed to stay. But the first step had been taken, and, giving his orders in a whisper, he went to the helm, while Gregory and Morgan prepared to hoist the sail, and the men bent steadily to their long oars.
The light increased, and there seemed to be nothing to prevent the little vessel from passing safely round the southern point, for the water looked smoothness itself; but none knew better than the captain the rocks that were in his path, while away to his right over the northern arm of the bay lay three praus teeming with bloodthirsty savage men who would be ready to rush in pursuit the moment they were seen.
It was a painful dilemma for the captain, who had, however, been longing to make his present venture, but shrank therefrom as too risky till opinions other than his own urged his attempt. But there was his position. If he kept to the darkness, wreck seemed certain; if to the light, he must be seen.
And now the light was most vivid, but still he kept on, the little cutter gliding slowly on over water that seemed to be golden, while Mark held his breath as he watched the northern point till by slow degrees first one and then another and then the third of the praus came full into view with their rough rigging and cordage distinctly seen in the glowing light.
Other eyes than Mark’s watched the praus, and it was a matter of surprise to all that the cutter went on and on to the second passage through the rocks off the south point, round which, if they were fortunate, she would be able to pass—the first passage being only safe for the gig—while the praus, if they started in pursuit, would have to sail out quite half a mile before they could round their point, and as great a distance back, which would give the fugitives a good start along the lagoon.
No one spoke as the cutter glided slowly on, the sweeps dipping regularly and almost without a sound. For fully five minutes this continued, but to all on board, as they crouched down for the shelter of the low bulwark, it seemed more like five hours. There they were in full sight of the praus, but not a sound reached them, and in a whisper the captain said to Mark, who was at his side:
“They must be all asleep. Oh for a little wind!”
But there was not a breath of air nor even a hot blast from the mountain, and in spite of the agonising desire to escape they could only creep slowly over the golden water in a terribly sluggish motion, though two men toiled hard now at each sweep.
Suddenly, and with a spontaneity which showed how suddenly they had been perceived, a tremendous yell arose from the occupants of the praus.
“Now, Strong,” cried the major, as a thrill of horror ran through the occupants of the little cutter, “war is declared.”
“Be ready with that sail,” said the captain; but his words were not needed, for his two officers were standing with the ropes in their hands, and at a word the mainsail would have been hoisted.
The yelling continued and the thrill increased, for from moment to moment the escaping party expected to hear the sharp ring of the brass guns of the Malays and to have their tin bullets whizzing overhead.
It was a curious position, for the yelling of the Malays was as that of so many wild beasts unable to reach their prey, the long low spit of rocky sand lying between them and the bay, and near as they were now, they could only attack by rowing or sailing right out to where the current ran swiftly and tumultuously about the point, rounding it, and then making straight for the bay.
“They are going to fire,” said the captain quietly as he stood at the tiller; “everyone but the men at the sweeps lie down or keep below.”
“Which order does not apply to me, Mark,” said the major coolly. “I’m an officer. Lie down, sir! Do you want to be shot?”
“Certainly not, sir,” replied Mark, who, in spite of his dread and excitement, could not help feeling amused at the major’s satisfied air, and the way in which he seemed to play with his gun.
Bang! A sharp ringing report from a lelah as the praus began to move, and the charge of tin bullets came screaming overhead as the report echoed from the rocks that surrounded the bay.
“Bad shot at close quarters,” said the major; “and they are moving off. Can’t you whistle for the wind and let’s show them our heels!”
“The wind will come as soon as we get out beyond the shelter of the point,” said the captain. “Pull, my lads.”
The men tugged at the long sweeps, but the cutter was so substantial and heavily-built that she moved very slowly through the water, beside which, it was extremely nervous work to keep on pulling while at intervals of a few minutes there came a shot from one or other of the receding praus. Still they progressed, and if once they could get over a few hundred yards there was a prospect of their clearing the rocks off the south point and getting well along the lagoon.
Shot after shot, some whistling by the mast, some striking the water, and others going before or behind, but not one touched the cutter, and as the three praus rowed out and grew more distant the practice became more wild.
“Ah!” said the major, “being shot at is very exciting; but I don’t think I like it after all. How are you setting on, Mark?”
“I’m all right, sir.”
“Well, ladies, we shall not have breakfast till two hours after sunrise,” said the major, as he bent over the entrance to the rough cabin where they were sheltered, “so I should advise a short nap.”
A sad smile was the only reply to the major’s cheery remark, and he nodded and then sighed as he turned to the captain.
“Cease firing, eh?” he said as there was a cessation. “They must be near the end of the point. Now, Strong.”
“In another ten minutes they will be round it, and—what’s that, Gregory? Did we touch on a rock?”
“No,” said the mate. “It’s deep water here.”
There was another shock as if the cutter had gone upon a rock; but she went slowly on.
“Earthquake,” said the major. “The mountain seems uneasy.”
Almost as he spoke there was another shock communicated through the water, which suddenly boiled up and eddied about them, making the cutter rock to and fro and then roll heavily.
“Pull, my lads!” said the captain; and the men tugged furiously as their commander looked anxiously out toward the north point, round which the praus were faintly seen in the glow from the mountain, and then gazing round him at the black rocks of the little bay and its uneasy waters.
“No fear of their pulling,” thought Mark, “if they feel as I do in this black hole!”
In fact the men were thoroughly sharing the horror of the lad, and sparing no efforts to get out of the water-filled ancient crater into the smooth lagoon.
For the black water that always lay so smooth and calm was now rapidly changing its character, and there was no doubt that a tremendous amount of volcanic action was going on beneath their feet. The surface heaved and eddied; waves rose in unexpected places; huge bubbles rushed to the top from the terrible depths below and burst with a loud puff. And all the time the cutter swayed and seemed to be receiving a succession of blows below water-mark, always suggesting rocks about her keel.
But still with the indomitable energy of Englishmen the long oars were used, and the little vessel moved forward till they were so near the point that in another ten minutes the captain felt that they would have the wind and be able to sail steadily along between the rocks where he had mapped out and sounded his course.
It was an awful piece of navigation, but he had no fear if they could only catch the wind.
Still there was that hundred yards to clear; and now, favoured by the currents that played round the north point, it was evident that at least one of the praus had cleared it and was coming down upon them straight for the bay. There was the loud rhythmical yelling of the men shouting together, and the slow beat of the sweeps as they rowed vigorously; while the two long oars of the cutter, only intended to help her out of harbour in a calm, hardly gave her headway.
The glare from the mountain increased so that every object was plainly seen; and Mark could not help gazing at the wondrous aspect of the mountain, the top of which emitted a light of dazzling brilliancy, while a thin streak of red seemed to be stealing in a zigzag fashion from one side.
Then there was a tremendous burst as if of thunder; a rushing, hissing noise, as if a shower of stones had been hurled into the sky; and then all was darkness for a few moments.
“Blown out!” said the major laconically as if he were speaking of a candle; but the words had hardly left his lips before with a frightful explosion the mountain blazed forth again, with the glare far more intense, and showing the prau they had dimly-seen before coming on fast.
“The eruption does not seem to scare them,” said the captain.
“Well, it does me,” said the major. “It’s a kind of warfare I don’t understand.” Then in a whisper which Mark heard: “Shall we get round the point, or must we fight for it?”
“Unless we catch the wind,” replied the captain, “they will be down upon us first; and then—”
“We must fight for it,” said the major coolly. “Well, fortunately we are well prepared. Look here, Strong, you keep on with your navigation as long as you like, while I have the fighting tools ready. The moment retreat is useless, say the word and we’ll show fight.”
Captain Strong gave his hand a grip, and then stood gazing straight before him perfectly unmoved.
The position was one that would have blanched the cheek of the bravest man. For there in front was the prau coming rapidly on, full of bloodthirsty pirates, who had ceased firing as they saw their prey within their grasp; while behind was the volcano, whose eruption was minute by minute growing more terrible, and around them the luridly lit-up waters of the old crater in which they were, boiling up, hissing, and emitting great puffs of steam, where, as the cutter rocked and plunged, it seemed to be only a matter of moments before she would be engulfed—sucked down, as it were, into the awful depths below!
Gregory and Morgan stood ready to hoist the sail, but there was not a breath of air where the cutter lay. It was one awful calm, with the glow from the volcano seeming to scorch their cheeks, though high overhead there was a rushing sound as of a mighty wind setting toward the burning mountain, which now began to hurl volleys of red-hot stones through the dense cloud which hung above the top, and reflected the light far and wide upon the sea.
“Hopeless!” said the captain suddenly. “Arm, major, and let’s fight it out like men! Stop!” he cried; “the boat—the shore!”
“Bah!” ejaculated the major angrily. “Are we fishes, captain, that you want to send us out of the frying-pan into the fire?”
He pointed to the shore as he spoke, and the captain grasped the horror of the scene. It would, he knew, be madness to land, for there were signs of fire now in place after place among the rocks; while before they could have crowded into the gig and tried to row to sea the Malays would have been upon them—shut in as they were in the bay, which was literally a trap.
Just then, too, the water began to heave and toss, huge geyser-like fountains shot up and fell back with a fearful hissing sound, and, as the light gig was tossed on high, the madness of attempting to crowd into her was manifest to all.
The arms were passed round, and every man’s eyes glistened in the ruddy glare as with a furious yelling the prau came on, the water looking like golden foam on either side, and the glint of spears flashing out from her crowded bamboo deck.
“Don’t fire till you can make sure of your man!” said the major sternly; and a low murmur arose from the little group behind the cutter’s bulwarks, which told in its fierce intensity that if stubborn determination could save the helpless women crouching below they had nought to fear.
The prau was not fifty yards away now, and seemed to be glowing as if red-hot in the glare shed by the golden cloud above the mountain. The sight of their prey so close at hand set the Malays yelling more fiercely than ever, and at a shout the sweeps ceased beating the water, and every man seized his arms, when there was a peculiar hissing sound heard; the cutter heeled over, then righted, and, to the wonder and horror of all on board, she began to turn round slowly as upon an axis, as if preparatory to being sucked down into a frightful whirlpool. In one short minute she had turned twice, and then, as if caught in some mighty current, began to glide rapidly round the bay at first toward the burning mountain, and then outward to sea.
For the moment the horror and strangeness of their position made all on board forget their enemies, among whom a terrible silence had fallen, but as the captain glanced in the direction of the praus he saw that the distance between them had increased, and that, caught in the same wondrous current, the enemy’s vessel was being carried rapidly out to sea.
The force of the current increased till they seemed to be rolling along the surface of some cataract, and in a few minutes, as everyone clung to bulwark or stay, the distance they had striven so hard to compass was passed again and again, for the sea was shrinking from the isle and they were being carried out on the retiring wave.
They were now opposite the rocks that they had striven to pass, while the prau, lighter in construction, was a hundred yards away. The hissing, rushing sound of the retiring water was terrible, and in blank despair in face of this awful convulsion of nature all gazed wildly before them, when all at once there was a sharp shock, the cutter heeled over a little, and this time there could be no mistake, she had struck upon the rocks of the north point or arm of Crater Bay, and the sea was retiring from them and leaving them fast.
Chapter Forty Six.How Safety was won.The captain recovered himself, but he was helpless in such an emergency, and no words passed. There was nothing to be done but wait.“Are we in great danger, father?” whispered Mark, taking his hand.“Yes, my boy, in great danger,” replied the captain in a solemn whisper. “I can do no more.”“What is the great danger?” said the major quietly. “That,” said the captain, pointing seaward. “The water retires like this, only to come back in force. There: it is coming back.”They needed no telling, for the awful roar of the earthquake wave announced its coming, and with it as they remained fixed and helpless upon the rock they could see the prau, after being sucked out, as it were, for nearly a quarter of a mile, being carried back at terrific speed. There was a fascination in the scene of the others’ peril that took away from their own, though, had they paused to think, it must have been to realise that the cutter would be lifted up by the coming wave and dashed upon the black perpendicular rocks at the head of the bay.But for the moment no one thought, for every faculty appeared to be concentrated upon the fate of that long low prau crowded with men, and now glistening in the volcanic light, as it seemed to be riding rapidly among so much golden foam. The roar of the wave was terrific as the waters surged, and for the moment it seemed to them that the prau would be hurled right upon the rocks where the cutter lay careened over, but with her bows to the coming wave that glistened luridly like a long wall of ruddy water crowned with foam.“Hold fast by the bulwark, boy,” whispered the captain as he passed his arm round Mark. “Cling all tightly for your lives.”Suddenly a low hoarse cry was uttered by all on board, for as the prau was borne toward them it must have caught upon the summit of some rock hidden by the wave, and that check was sufficient. As that cry arose the prau turned right over and disappeared completely from view, while at that moment there was another of the tremendous explosions from the mountain, succeeded by instantaneous darkness. The cutter was lifted up as the wave struck her, and then after a bound and a quiver she seemed to plunge down—down as if into hideous depths; while half suffocated by the broken water, drenched, shivering, and feeling as if his arms had been wrenched from their sockets, Mark Strong still clung to the bulwark, thinking of those below, and asking himself in his blank horror whether this was the end.He was conscious of a crash as of the vast wave striking the curved wall of rocks at the head of the bay; of the noise of many waters; of the cutter plunging and whirling round and then seeming to ride easily in the midst of subsiding waves; and then of hearing a low hoarse sigh close to his ear.“Father,” he cried, “are you there?”“Yes, my boy,” came out of the darkness close at hand. “Thank God we are so far safe!”Then, as if rousing himself to a sense of his position, he called aloud:“Major O’Halloran!”“Yes.”“Gregory!”“Yes.”“Morgan!”All answered to their names out of the pitchy blackness. The men, too, were safe, and upon crawling cautiously to the hatchway which closed in the cabin, Mrs Strong’s voice replied, saying that all was well, only that they were in an agony of dread.It was a dread likely to continue for they were perfectly helpless, and all that the captain could make out was that the cutter had been uninjured by striking upon the rock, and that she was now floating upon an even keel, but in what direction it was impossible to say.People often talk of “dark as pitch,” “black as ink,” and the like; but if ever there was an exemplification of this darkness it was now, for a cloud of the most intense blackness shut them in, and the occupants of the cutter could only communicate by word of mouth or touch.“Surely this will lift soon!” said the major at last; and his voice sounded shut in and strange. “If that light would only shine out again!”“To show us to our enemies, major,” said Gregory in a low voice.“I don’t think any light would show us to them, Gregory,” said the captain solemnly.“No,” said the major, “we have no more to fear from them.”A dead silence succeeded for a few minutes as all realised how completely the slight prau had been engulfed while in such a chaos of waters no swimmer could possibly have been saved with a level sandy shore before him, far less among the black rocks of that walled-in bay.Hours passed away, hours of dread, for from time to time the hull of the cutter seemed to be struck from below, vibrating through every timber as earthquake shock after shock was felt. Fearful booming sounds were heard from the island telling them where it lay, and again and again there were thunderous crashes, as if the whole of the vast globe were being crumpled up, and the end of all things was at hand.But in spite of all this, as from being quiescent the sea heaved, and the cutter was tossed here and there like a cork in some torrent, not a gleam of light came to her occupants, neither the glow of the eruption nor the rays from the sun. It must have been day for many hours, but all around was a breathless calm, and the dense black cloud grew thicker, and they could feel that the deck of the cutter was thick with a soft powdery ash.The anxiety of all was so great, the care induced by their position so terrible, that no attempt was made to obtain food or water till quite twenty-four hours must have passed, and then, utterly worn out with the awful explosions, as of a cannonade going on, one by one all fell asleep, save the captain and Mark, who sat there in the darkness talking in whispers, and listening to the distant sounds.“We are drifting slowly in some current, Mark,” said the captain at last.“How do you know, father?”“The reports are more distant. If we could but have light once more.”It was a weary time before the captain’s desire was granted, and the first harbingers of that coming light were forty-eight hours after the first embarkation in the cutter. They came in the shape of a pleasant cool breeze which it was delicious to breathe, and by slow degrees there was first a faint light, then a glow as if the glare of the burning mountains were shining through, and then a joyful shout of thankfulness arose from officers and crew, for the light was from the rising sun, and they could see blue dancing water, and then, with one bound, they were in broad day, with a great black curtain riding slowly away from them across the sea.Away south of the sun there was a huge black mountain of vapour quite twenty miles away, and evidently covering the island, while the cutter was drifting slowly farther and farther away in the light current in which she had been caught.As for those on board, after they had each in his own way, and then collectively at the captain’s wish, returned thanks for their preservation, the first thing to be done was to remove the blackening ashes from their faces, while Jimpny swept pretty well half a ton of the curious volcanic dust from the cutter’s decks.“What now?” said the major. “Back to the island to see what damage has been done?”“No,” said the captain; “we have a stout little well-tried vessel beneath our feet, and the next land I hope to tread is that at Singapore.”There was no further difficulty in this project, for the wind was favourable, and the dark cloud that overhung the island soon sank below the horizon, though during the following night a distant sound, as of cannonading, told that the explosion was still going on.Captain Strong’s navigation during the next few days was a good deal by guesswork, and consisted in making all the headway he could westward. At the end of the fifth day, however, a large steamer was made out going east, and in answer to their signals she hove to; and upon going on board the captain for the first time learned their position. This proved to be about midway between Sumatra and Borneo, and the island lay to the south-east as far as could be judged, though the officers of the great steamer could not give it a name.Nothing could exceed the kindness of the captain and officers, and at their special request the major, and his wife and daughter, continued their voyage in the steamer, which was bound for Canton, from which place, if the steamer did not touch at it, the major would have no difficulty in reaching his original destination.It was rather a painful parting, the major gripping the hands of Captain Strong and Mark very firmly as he said “good-bye;” while Mrs O’Halloran and Mary displayed for the first time the womanly weakness that their education as soldier’s wife and daughter taught them to hide.“Good-bye, my brave boy!” the major’s wife cried. “Someday I hope we shall come back to England, and then we can go over our island troubles all again.”She kissed him very tenderly as she finished speaking; and then came Mark’s parting from Mary—a true frank boy and girl parting, in the hope that some day they might meet again.An hour later Mark was standing alone on the deck of the cutter, fancying he could still hear the O’Hallorans’ words as he watched the hull of the steamer growing more distant, and her dense smoke trailing behind for miles.“Life is made up of meetings and partings, Mark, my lad,” said the captain. “That has been a pleasant friendship, and some day we shall meet again.”Mark sighed, and went to sit by his mother and watch the sunlit sea, for the cutter seemed to have grown dull and empty, and the gambols of Bruff, and the pranks of Jack fell as flat as the cheery words of Billy Widgeon and the stowaway.
The captain recovered himself, but he was helpless in such an emergency, and no words passed. There was nothing to be done but wait.
“Are we in great danger, father?” whispered Mark, taking his hand.
“Yes, my boy, in great danger,” replied the captain in a solemn whisper. “I can do no more.”
“What is the great danger?” said the major quietly. “That,” said the captain, pointing seaward. “The water retires like this, only to come back in force. There: it is coming back.”
They needed no telling, for the awful roar of the earthquake wave announced its coming, and with it as they remained fixed and helpless upon the rock they could see the prau, after being sucked out, as it were, for nearly a quarter of a mile, being carried back at terrific speed. There was a fascination in the scene of the others’ peril that took away from their own, though, had they paused to think, it must have been to realise that the cutter would be lifted up by the coming wave and dashed upon the black perpendicular rocks at the head of the bay.
But for the moment no one thought, for every faculty appeared to be concentrated upon the fate of that long low prau crowded with men, and now glistening in the volcanic light, as it seemed to be riding rapidly among so much golden foam. The roar of the wave was terrific as the waters surged, and for the moment it seemed to them that the prau would be hurled right upon the rocks where the cutter lay careened over, but with her bows to the coming wave that glistened luridly like a long wall of ruddy water crowned with foam.
“Hold fast by the bulwark, boy,” whispered the captain as he passed his arm round Mark. “Cling all tightly for your lives.”
Suddenly a low hoarse cry was uttered by all on board, for as the prau was borne toward them it must have caught upon the summit of some rock hidden by the wave, and that check was sufficient. As that cry arose the prau turned right over and disappeared completely from view, while at that moment there was another of the tremendous explosions from the mountain, succeeded by instantaneous darkness. The cutter was lifted up as the wave struck her, and then after a bound and a quiver she seemed to plunge down—down as if into hideous depths; while half suffocated by the broken water, drenched, shivering, and feeling as if his arms had been wrenched from their sockets, Mark Strong still clung to the bulwark, thinking of those below, and asking himself in his blank horror whether this was the end.
He was conscious of a crash as of the vast wave striking the curved wall of rocks at the head of the bay; of the noise of many waters; of the cutter plunging and whirling round and then seeming to ride easily in the midst of subsiding waves; and then of hearing a low hoarse sigh close to his ear.
“Father,” he cried, “are you there?”
“Yes, my boy,” came out of the darkness close at hand. “Thank God we are so far safe!”
Then, as if rousing himself to a sense of his position, he called aloud:
“Major O’Halloran!”
“Yes.”
“Gregory!”
“Yes.”
“Morgan!”
All answered to their names out of the pitchy blackness. The men, too, were safe, and upon crawling cautiously to the hatchway which closed in the cabin, Mrs Strong’s voice replied, saying that all was well, only that they were in an agony of dread.
It was a dread likely to continue for they were perfectly helpless, and all that the captain could make out was that the cutter had been uninjured by striking upon the rock, and that she was now floating upon an even keel, but in what direction it was impossible to say.
People often talk of “dark as pitch,” “black as ink,” and the like; but if ever there was an exemplification of this darkness it was now, for a cloud of the most intense blackness shut them in, and the occupants of the cutter could only communicate by word of mouth or touch.
“Surely this will lift soon!” said the major at last; and his voice sounded shut in and strange. “If that light would only shine out again!”
“To show us to our enemies, major,” said Gregory in a low voice.
“I don’t think any light would show us to them, Gregory,” said the captain solemnly.
“No,” said the major, “we have no more to fear from them.”
A dead silence succeeded for a few minutes as all realised how completely the slight prau had been engulfed while in such a chaos of waters no swimmer could possibly have been saved with a level sandy shore before him, far less among the black rocks of that walled-in bay.
Hours passed away, hours of dread, for from time to time the hull of the cutter seemed to be struck from below, vibrating through every timber as earthquake shock after shock was felt. Fearful booming sounds were heard from the island telling them where it lay, and again and again there were thunderous crashes, as if the whole of the vast globe were being crumpled up, and the end of all things was at hand.
But in spite of all this, as from being quiescent the sea heaved, and the cutter was tossed here and there like a cork in some torrent, not a gleam of light came to her occupants, neither the glow of the eruption nor the rays from the sun. It must have been day for many hours, but all around was a breathless calm, and the dense black cloud grew thicker, and they could feel that the deck of the cutter was thick with a soft powdery ash.
The anxiety of all was so great, the care induced by their position so terrible, that no attempt was made to obtain food or water till quite twenty-four hours must have passed, and then, utterly worn out with the awful explosions, as of a cannonade going on, one by one all fell asleep, save the captain and Mark, who sat there in the darkness talking in whispers, and listening to the distant sounds.
“We are drifting slowly in some current, Mark,” said the captain at last.
“How do you know, father?”
“The reports are more distant. If we could but have light once more.”
It was a weary time before the captain’s desire was granted, and the first harbingers of that coming light were forty-eight hours after the first embarkation in the cutter. They came in the shape of a pleasant cool breeze which it was delicious to breathe, and by slow degrees there was first a faint light, then a glow as if the glare of the burning mountains were shining through, and then a joyful shout of thankfulness arose from officers and crew, for the light was from the rising sun, and they could see blue dancing water, and then, with one bound, they were in broad day, with a great black curtain riding slowly away from them across the sea.
Away south of the sun there was a huge black mountain of vapour quite twenty miles away, and evidently covering the island, while the cutter was drifting slowly farther and farther away in the light current in which she had been caught.
As for those on board, after they had each in his own way, and then collectively at the captain’s wish, returned thanks for their preservation, the first thing to be done was to remove the blackening ashes from their faces, while Jimpny swept pretty well half a ton of the curious volcanic dust from the cutter’s decks.
“What now?” said the major. “Back to the island to see what damage has been done?”
“No,” said the captain; “we have a stout little well-tried vessel beneath our feet, and the next land I hope to tread is that at Singapore.”
There was no further difficulty in this project, for the wind was favourable, and the dark cloud that overhung the island soon sank below the horizon, though during the following night a distant sound, as of cannonading, told that the explosion was still going on.
Captain Strong’s navigation during the next few days was a good deal by guesswork, and consisted in making all the headway he could westward. At the end of the fifth day, however, a large steamer was made out going east, and in answer to their signals she hove to; and upon going on board the captain for the first time learned their position. This proved to be about midway between Sumatra and Borneo, and the island lay to the south-east as far as could be judged, though the officers of the great steamer could not give it a name.
Nothing could exceed the kindness of the captain and officers, and at their special request the major, and his wife and daughter, continued their voyage in the steamer, which was bound for Canton, from which place, if the steamer did not touch at it, the major would have no difficulty in reaching his original destination.
It was rather a painful parting, the major gripping the hands of Captain Strong and Mark very firmly as he said “good-bye;” while Mrs O’Halloran and Mary displayed for the first time the womanly weakness that their education as soldier’s wife and daughter taught them to hide.
“Good-bye, my brave boy!” the major’s wife cried. “Someday I hope we shall come back to England, and then we can go over our island troubles all again.”
She kissed him very tenderly as she finished speaking; and then came Mark’s parting from Mary—a true frank boy and girl parting, in the hope that some day they might meet again.
An hour later Mark was standing alone on the deck of the cutter, fancying he could still hear the O’Hallorans’ words as he watched the hull of the steamer growing more distant, and her dense smoke trailing behind for miles.
“Life is made up of meetings and partings, Mark, my lad,” said the captain. “That has been a pleasant friendship, and some day we shall meet again.”
Mark sighed, and went to sit by his mother and watch the sunlit sea, for the cutter seemed to have grown dull and empty, and the gambols of Bruff, and the pranks of Jack fell as flat as the cheery words of Billy Widgeon and the stowaway.
Chapter Forty Seven.How they sought Mother Carey’s Chicken, and she was gone.Singapore was reached in due time, and after communicating with the owners of his vessel, Captain Strong chartered a large schooner, engaged some additional hands, and sailed once more, this time for the purpose of reaching thePetrel—“Mother Carey’s Chicken,” as the men would call her—and getting out the portion of her cargo that remained uninjured.There was some talk of Mrs Strong and Mark going back to England, but Mark was so pressing to be allowed to accompany the expedition that the captain gave way, and they sailed together.“I may find the cargo so damaged as to be worthless,” the captain said; “but if it is, I shall make expeditions to the best of the deposits, and come back laden with sulphur.”It was a pleasant voyage, one not troubled by calms, so that they had but little fear of being overhauled by the Malay praus. The captain had worked out his course very carefully, calculating with minuteness exactly where the island must lie, and in due time a look-out was kept for the conical point of the mountain, which Mark was sailor enough to know would be the first to catch the eye.“No, my lad,” said the mate, in answer to a question from Mark, “and I don’t suppose we shall see it to-night. You come and keep the morning watch with me, and look out for the point when the sun touches it first. That’s the time to see an island.”Mark kept the watch with the mate, but they did not see the island, and the captain changed their course.“It must be somewhere here,” he said; and he had a consultation with the two mates, who both agreed that they were near the spot, though no point was visible.The change of course produced no good effect, and after sailing here and there for several days the captain decided to make for the island where they had landed to have the day’s shooting.This was reached with the greatest of exactness, and then, after examining the spot where the little engagement had taken place, a fresh start was made, and the vessel’s course laid in a direction which they all felt must go over the same ground as the boat had drifted, and the ship had been carried after the fire, and she had gone ashore.“Breakers ahead!”“Ah! I thought we should manage it this time,” said the captain eagerly, as, followed by Mark, he hurried on deck the next morning in the grey light, and there before them was a long curving reef of coral bending round to north-west and south-west, and inclosing smooth water apparently in a ring.“Why, Gregory!” exclaimed the captain.“Yes, sir; that’s it!” said the mate.“Nonsense!” cried Mark, laughing at what seemed to him a joke. “Where’s the mountain?”Where indeed!With very little difficulty the opening in the reef was found, and a boat lowered and rowed into the lagoon, where the lead was lowered several times but no bottom found.Returning to the ship sail was made again, and they went round to the north-west so as to prove that this was the reef by finding the opening which led into Crater Bay.Sure enough the opening was found, and the boat once more lowered to investigate and find that the coral-reef still spread out like a barrier, but the coral insects were dead, and as they investigated farther it was to find that there was not a single shell-fish of any kind living in the shoal water, nor any trace of life, but on the highest part of the bleached white coral there were a few blocks of blackish-grey vesicular or cindery-looking stone.“Gone?” said Mark, as he sat in the boat, “you think it’s gone?” and he looked down with a feeling of awe.“Yes,” said the captain; “gone as rapidly as no doubt it once rose from the sea.”“But where was Crater Bay?”“Here where you are seated,” said the captain. “Shall we try the depth?”“No,” said Mark with a slight shiver; “it seems too awful. But do you really feel sure, father, that our wonderfully beautiful island has sunk down here?”“I have no doubt of it, my boy,” replied the captain. “The eruption was awful, and the island was literally blown up, and its fragments sank beneath the waves. What do you say, Gregory?”“That’s it,” said the mate.“And all those lovely palms and ferns, Mark,” said Morgan, laying his hand upon Mark’s arm.“And I used to feel as if I should like to live there always,” said Mark with a sigh. “Let’s get back to the ship.”The captain gave another glance round, sweeping the surface of the lagoon inclosed by the irregular ring of coral, and then gave orders for their return to the ship.While the men rowed back Mark tried to picture the scene as it last met his eyes; but turned from the contemplation with a shudder; and it was with a sigh of relief that he once more felt the firm planks of the deck beneath his feet.“And you mean to tell me,” said Billy Widgeon, as he stroked and patted his monkey’s head one evening during the homeward voyage—“you mean to tell me, Mr Small, as that there island sank outer sight and is all gone?”“That’s it, Billy,” replied the boatswain.“But it’ll come up again, won’t it?” said the stowaway.“That’s more than anybody can tell, my lad,” said Small. “All I know is as she’s gone, and we’re going back home. And a good job too.”Mark Strong heard these words; and as he sat on the deck that night, beneath the clustering stars, with Bruff’s head in his lap, he too began to think it was a good job they were going home, for his perilous voyaging was drawing to a close, and that solitary sunlit island that shone like a green jewel out of the purple sea was beginning to seem to him as if it had never been.“Thinking, Mark, my lad?” said a voice at his elbow.“Yes, father,” said the lad, starting.“What about?”“The Island, and Mother Carey’s Chicken.”The End.
Singapore was reached in due time, and after communicating with the owners of his vessel, Captain Strong chartered a large schooner, engaged some additional hands, and sailed once more, this time for the purpose of reaching thePetrel—“Mother Carey’s Chicken,” as the men would call her—and getting out the portion of her cargo that remained uninjured.
There was some talk of Mrs Strong and Mark going back to England, but Mark was so pressing to be allowed to accompany the expedition that the captain gave way, and they sailed together.
“I may find the cargo so damaged as to be worthless,” the captain said; “but if it is, I shall make expeditions to the best of the deposits, and come back laden with sulphur.”
It was a pleasant voyage, one not troubled by calms, so that they had but little fear of being overhauled by the Malay praus. The captain had worked out his course very carefully, calculating with minuteness exactly where the island must lie, and in due time a look-out was kept for the conical point of the mountain, which Mark was sailor enough to know would be the first to catch the eye.
“No, my lad,” said the mate, in answer to a question from Mark, “and I don’t suppose we shall see it to-night. You come and keep the morning watch with me, and look out for the point when the sun touches it first. That’s the time to see an island.”
Mark kept the watch with the mate, but they did not see the island, and the captain changed their course.
“It must be somewhere here,” he said; and he had a consultation with the two mates, who both agreed that they were near the spot, though no point was visible.
The change of course produced no good effect, and after sailing here and there for several days the captain decided to make for the island where they had landed to have the day’s shooting.
This was reached with the greatest of exactness, and then, after examining the spot where the little engagement had taken place, a fresh start was made, and the vessel’s course laid in a direction which they all felt must go over the same ground as the boat had drifted, and the ship had been carried after the fire, and she had gone ashore.
“Breakers ahead!”
“Ah! I thought we should manage it this time,” said the captain eagerly, as, followed by Mark, he hurried on deck the next morning in the grey light, and there before them was a long curving reef of coral bending round to north-west and south-west, and inclosing smooth water apparently in a ring.
“Why, Gregory!” exclaimed the captain.
“Yes, sir; that’s it!” said the mate.
“Nonsense!” cried Mark, laughing at what seemed to him a joke. “Where’s the mountain?”
Where indeed!
With very little difficulty the opening in the reef was found, and a boat lowered and rowed into the lagoon, where the lead was lowered several times but no bottom found.
Returning to the ship sail was made again, and they went round to the north-west so as to prove that this was the reef by finding the opening which led into Crater Bay.
Sure enough the opening was found, and the boat once more lowered to investigate and find that the coral-reef still spread out like a barrier, but the coral insects were dead, and as they investigated farther it was to find that there was not a single shell-fish of any kind living in the shoal water, nor any trace of life, but on the highest part of the bleached white coral there were a few blocks of blackish-grey vesicular or cindery-looking stone.
“Gone?” said Mark, as he sat in the boat, “you think it’s gone?” and he looked down with a feeling of awe.
“Yes,” said the captain; “gone as rapidly as no doubt it once rose from the sea.”
“But where was Crater Bay?”
“Here where you are seated,” said the captain. “Shall we try the depth?”
“No,” said Mark with a slight shiver; “it seems too awful. But do you really feel sure, father, that our wonderfully beautiful island has sunk down here?”
“I have no doubt of it, my boy,” replied the captain. “The eruption was awful, and the island was literally blown up, and its fragments sank beneath the waves. What do you say, Gregory?”
“That’s it,” said the mate.
“And all those lovely palms and ferns, Mark,” said Morgan, laying his hand upon Mark’s arm.
“And I used to feel as if I should like to live there always,” said Mark with a sigh. “Let’s get back to the ship.”
The captain gave another glance round, sweeping the surface of the lagoon inclosed by the irregular ring of coral, and then gave orders for their return to the ship.
While the men rowed back Mark tried to picture the scene as it last met his eyes; but turned from the contemplation with a shudder; and it was with a sigh of relief that he once more felt the firm planks of the deck beneath his feet.
“And you mean to tell me,” said Billy Widgeon, as he stroked and patted his monkey’s head one evening during the homeward voyage—“you mean to tell me, Mr Small, as that there island sank outer sight and is all gone?”
“That’s it, Billy,” replied the boatswain.
“But it’ll come up again, won’t it?” said the stowaway.
“That’s more than anybody can tell, my lad,” said Small. “All I know is as she’s gone, and we’re going back home. And a good job too.”
Mark Strong heard these words; and as he sat on the deck that night, beneath the clustering stars, with Bruff’s head in his lap, he too began to think it was a good job they were going home, for his perilous voyaging was drawing to a close, and that solitary sunlit island that shone like a green jewel out of the purple sea was beginning to seem to him as if it had never been.
“Thinking, Mark, my lad?” said a voice at his elbow.
“Yes, father,” said the lad, starting.
“What about?”
“The Island, and Mother Carey’s Chicken.”
|Chapter 1| |Chapter 2| |Chapter 3| |Chapter 4| |Chapter 5| |Chapter 6| |Chapter 7| |Chapter 8| |Chapter 9| |Chapter 10| |Chapter 11| |Chapter 12| |Chapter 13| |Chapter 14| |Chapter 15| |Chapter 16| |Chapter 17| |Chapter 18| |Chapter 19| |Chapter 20| |Chapter 21| |Chapter 22| |Chapter 23| |Chapter 24| |Chapter 25| |Chapter 26| |Chapter 27| |Chapter 28| |Chapter 29| |Chapter 30| |Chapter 31| |Chapter 32| |Chapter 33| |Chapter 34| |Chapter 35| |Chapter 36| |Chapter 37| |Chapter 38| |Chapter 39| |Chapter 40| |Chapter 41| |Chapter 42| |Chapter 43| |Chapter 44| |Chapter 45| |Chapter 46| |Chapter 47|