Chapter 4

CHAPTER VIIIA RECONNAISSANCEThe hut allotted to the four white men, like all the others in the inner enclosure, was built of logs, and in shape resembled an expanded sentry-box. It had no furniture except a few grass mats laid upon the earthen floor, and a clumsy rack of sticks, containing some crude platters of clay, and a couple of heavy wooden clubs. Worn out by their recent experiences, the occupants slept soundly through their first night as the chief's guests, only disturbed at intervals by the visitations of cockroaches which the darkness drew from crevices in the walls.Next morning they were given a breakfast of bananas and nuts, and water brought to them in long bamboo stalks, which had been cleaned of their partitions except at the end.'We are not supposed to wash,' remarked Trentham, 'and we can't shave; before long we shall all be as hairy as Meek.'Meek looked apologetic, and Grinson passed a hand over his cheeks and chin, already dark with stubble.'A regular Jack ashore, sir,' he said, 'and no barber round the corner. What is to be will be, and I only hope I make a better show than Ephraim; his whiskers ain't much of an ornament, I must say.''I ought to have shaved young,' sighed Meek. ''Tis too late now, Mr. Grinson.''Truly, Ephraim, you 've lost your chance, poor lad. But you might look worse, that's one comfort.'While they were at breakfast the man who had interpreted on the previous day came with a message from the chief. They were free to move about the enclosure, but the gate was forbidden them.'We 're prisoners, then,' said Hoole.'I fancy he doesn't trust the cannibals outside,' said Trentham. 'For the present I dare say we are safer where we are. But I don't know how we are to kill time.''Here you are, sir,' said Grinson, producing a greasy pack of cards. 'A rubber or two 'll be good for the digestion. Ephraim plays a good hand, though you might not think it.'While they were playing cards a man came from the chief's house and looked in on them through the doorway. His shadow caused them to glance up, and Hoole and Trentham recognised him as the patrician leader of the party from whom they had rescued Hahn. They wondered whether the recognition was mutual, feeling that it might go hardly with them if they were known; but the man, after a prolonged stare of curiosity, departed without giving any sign of suspicion. It came out afterwards that his party, finding the chimney blocked, had had to wait for the ebb tide and then walk for some miles along the shore before they reached a practicable path up the cliffs. They had then returned to the chimney, removed the obstruction from its top, and sought to track the fugitives; but they had lost the trail in the forest.Several days passed--days of tedium and growing irritation. The prisoners were given regular meals of bananas, sweet potatoes, and other roots, sometimes a bird or a pig; but movement beyond the stockade was still interdicted. They saw nothing of the chief, and one day, when Trentham sent him a message, asking that they might be allowed to go out and see what the Germans were doing, the answer was that he was sick, and could not attend to them until he was out and about again. Hoole suggested that it was a diplomatic illness, but the sight of the hideously painted figure of the tribal medicine-man going every day into the chief's house seemed to show that the reason given was genuine.One afternoon there were signs of much excitement in the village. From beyond the stockade came a babel of voices; a man admitted through the gate gave those within some news which appeared to agitate them, and a few minutes after he had entered the chief's house the interpreter came running to the hut, and said that the chief wished to see the 'white man fella' at once.'Release at last!' said Trentham when he returned. Alone of the four, Meek showed no sign of pleasure.'The old fellow is in a pretty bad way,' Trentham went on. 'The medicine-man was chanting incantations over him, and he looked pathetically resigned. He had just heard bad news. It appears that his son, whose name I understood to be Flanso--a corruption of François, I fancy--went out yesterday with a small scouting party, and had just got through that burnt village when they were surprised by a number of white men and collared; only the messenger escaped. Among the party was Kafulu, the head-man of the natives outside, and it's to that fact we owe our chance. I offered to go out and see if I could discover what had become of the prisoners, anticipating the chief's request. He jumped at it, and told me that the cannibals outside, when they understand what our errand is, won't do us any harm. But only you and I are to go, Hoole; the others must remain as hostages.''A dirty trick, sir,' said Meek. 'As sure as your back is turned, they 'll eat me; I know they will.''Don't you take on, Ephraim,' said Grinson. ''Tis true I 'd rather go with the gentlemen, but I 'll protect you, me lad. Before they eat you, they 'll have to cook my goose.'Early next morning, Hoole and Trentham started with half a dozen of the chief's best men and the interpreter. Hoole had his revolver, Trentham a spear like those with which the escort were armed. They marched rapidly through the forest, reached the burnt village about midday, and found there the bodies of two of the scouting party, shot by the Germans. From this point they moved with great circumspection, the guide leading them through a maze of vegetation by a winding track that bore downhill, crossing narrow gullies and swift hill streams.Late in the afternoon they entered a tract of country strewn with rounded boulders, which had no doubt been brought down in remote ages by glacial action from the mountain range in the interior. Here the ground sloped steeply to the edge of the cliffs, and they had a view far over the sea. Deprived of cover by the lack of vegetation, they bore away towards the forest on the right. Though they had approached by a different route, the white men now recognised the spot from which they had caught sight of the Raider lying in the cove below the cliffs. Half-way down the forest-clad slope Trentham called a halt.'We know where we are now, Hoole,' he said, 'and I think we had better leave the natives here under cover while we go on by ourselves. They 'll be no good to us in reconnoitring, and the fewer the better on a job like this.'He instructed the interpreter to remain with the men on guard, and if not rejoined by nightfall, to return to the village.A very rough and narrow track led through the trees and scrub with which the whole face of the cliff was covered. The two men crept cautiously down this for some distance; then it occurred to Hoole that it would be safer to make a way of their own through the bush, for at some turn of the track they might suddenly meet some one ascending, or emerge unexpectedly into view from the beach. Accordingly they turned off to the right, and continued their course as quickly as possible under cover, moving parallel with the track.Not many minutes had passed before they had reason to be glad that the precaution had occurred to Hoole in time. Less than a hundred yards below the spot where they had quitted the track they came to the edge of a space from which the vegetation had been cleared away. The path ran through this, and at one side of it stood a rough log hut where a German sailor, armed with a rifle, was standing on guard. Trentham, a little in advance of Hoole, was the first to catch sight of the man. He motioned to Hoole to halt, peered out for a few moments at the scene before him, then went back.'There 's a sentry-post below,' he said in a low tone. 'The man's back was towards me; he was watching something going on below him. We shall have to creep round. It's pretty rough going; take care you don't slip.'Keeping on the seaward side of the sentry, they wormed their way through the bush. With every step the descent became steeper, and they had to cling to branches and roots in order to keep their footing. The contour of the cliff hid them from the sentry, but the dislodging of a loose stone might at any moment betray their presence, and they let themselves down inch by inch with great care.[image]WITH EVERY STEP THE DESCENT BECAME STEEPER.As they had noticed on the occasion of their previous visit, the cove in which the Raider lay was almost encircled. The cliff which they were now scaling jutted out in a kind of spit on the eastern side. When they finally reached its base they found themselves among a tangle of jagged rocks. The tide was coming in, and they realised from the banks of seaweed that the rocks were covered at the flood, and that they had little time to spare if their reconnaissance was to lead them much farther and they had to return by the same route.After a precautionary glance seaward they began to make their way through the mass of rocks, clambering, springing from one to another, always careful not to expose themselves to the view of the sentry somewhere high up on their left. Presently, between two high rocks at the outer edge, they caught sight of blue water. Entering the gap, they looked out, and found that almost the whole of the cove was before them.'She 's gone,' said Hoole.The well-remembered vessel was no longer at her anchorage. No craft of any kind lay within the cove. But men were moving about the beach. To the left, near the base of the cliff, above high-water mark, were two large sheds; a little further on was a third shed, still larger. Between them the beach was covered with much miscellaneous litter, the nature of which the observers could not at present determine. What interested them most, and for a time puzzled them, was the sight of many dark figures working on a natural ledge some eighty feet above the sea level on the opposite side of the cove. They heard the sound of picks, and saw black men bringing baskets from a narrow tunnel in the cliff face, and emptying them on to the beach below. From the spot where the contents fell clouds of black dust rose high into the air. A white man was walking up and down the ledge, occasionally moving his right arm in a curiously jerky manner; and amid the other sounds came now and then rough shouts and sharp cracks.'By George, Hoole!' exclaimed Trentham under his breath, 'that particular mystery is solved. They are working coal! There must be an outcrop in the cliff; of course they are not mining. The Raider can't rely on filling her bunkers from captures, apparently, or they wouldn't go to all this trouble.''I guess it's the niggers get the trouble,' remarked Hoole. 'That fellow--in the distance he 's mighty like Halm--is making good play with his whip. You may bet your bottom dollar they snapped up Flanso and the rest to increase the number of their hands. Say, d' you hear that purr?'He swung round and looked seaward, shading his eyes with his hands.'There she is,' he exclaimed a few moments later. 'Skip behind the rock, Trentham; she 's diving right here.''The seaplane?''Yes. Can't you see her? She 's cut off her engines, making a very pretty swoop. See her now?''Yes; you 've better eyes than mine, Hoole.'Hoole smiled. His eyes were fixed on the machine with an intense admiring interest.'She blips,' he said, as the engine spluttered for a second or two. 'Now she 's cut off again. The pilot knows his job. I wonder where she 'll come down.'Crouching behind the rocks they watched the seaplane as it made a circling movement, diving all the time, until it swept round and headed straight for the entrance to the cove. From a height of about two hundred feet it swooped down towards the sea, 'blipped' again, then descended lightly upon the surface, ran a few yards, and at last came to rest a little distance from the beach. Several bare-legged German sailors had already emerged from one of the nearer sheds. They waded into the water. Two of them carried the occupants of the seaplane on their backs to the shore, then returned to help their comrades to pull the machine in. It glided smoothly up the beach until it rested just below the sheds.'Gliders all complete,' said Hoole.'What do you mean?''They 've laid down boards on the beach; you can't see them from here. They are well greased, too, to judge by the speed the floats slid up them. Those Germans are pretty thorough, Trentham.''Where did you pick up all these details?' asked Trentham curiously.'Oh, I 've seen that sort of thing once or twice before. But hadn't we better get back? There 's nothing more to be seen from this quarter, and I presume Flanso and his men are on that ledge yonder, or near about.''That farthest shed is the officers' quarters, by the look of it. The two airmen have just gone inside. We 've learnt the lie of the land and not much else, I 'm afraid. Can't we go a little farther along the shore, behind the rocks, and climb the cliff nearer the sheds?''We can try, but 'ware the sentry.'They had not gone far, however, before the incoming tide forced them to leave the rocks and clamber up through the bushes. The ascent was even more difficult than the descent had been, and a miscalculation of the direction of the path on which this sentry-box stood almost led to their undoing. They had supposed that it ran fairly straight to the sheds from the point at which they had left it; but the nature of the ground had necessitated its being carried a good many yards farther along the cliff, and then it bent round and formed a loop, approaching the sheds in the same direction as Hoole and Trentham were now going. Unaware of this, they were slowly climbing when Trentham slipped, displacing a mass of loose earth which went rattling down the cliff. They were not greatly alarmed, thinking that the sentry was too far away to have heard the sound through the noise of the coal-tipping across the cove. But footsteps not far above them caused them to snuggle behind a thick bush. The rustle of movement above drew nearer. Through the bush they saw the sentry stepping cautiously down, and prodding the vegetation with his bayonet. Hoole fingered his revolver, but Trentham signed to him that if any weapon had to be used it must be the spear. The sentry, however, stopped ten or a dozen yards above them, then, apparently satisfied that the landslide was accidental, laboriously climbed up the cliff.Much relieved, for violent measures would have been fatal to the success of their reconnaissance, the two men waited for a quarter of an hour or so, then struck up the cliff some distance to the left of the spot where the sentry had appeared, and wormed their way to the path, far beyond his box, by a wide circuit. It was almost dark by the time they rejoined the natives. They marched a few miles until night descended upon them; then they rested for a while, discussing the results of their expedition.'I 'm afraid the chief will be disappointed at our returning without his son,' said Trentham, 'but I hope he 'll see reason. We couldn't possibly have rescued him.''Clearly not,' said Hoole. 'There wasn't time to discover exactly where the Germans keep their slaves. I guess we 'll have to reconnoitre again, from the other side, before we can see our way clear. The absence of the Raider would help us considerably, for there appeared to be only about half a dozen Germans on the spot. I wish I could have seen whether that fellow cracking the whip was Hahn.''Why?''Well, we don't owe the skunk a great deal; besides, he 's got my watch.'CHAPTER IXCOMPLICATIONS'Does my eye squint, Ephraim, me lad?' asked Grinson, looking up into the face of his taller companion.Meek gazed so earnestly at his questioner that his eyes converged.'I don't see no sign of it, Mr. Grinson,' he said, 'and I wouldn't suppose as how you 'd be visited with that affliction at your time of life.''That's what I thought. Then why the mischief can't I hit that tree?'Meek looked sadly at the tree in question, as if mutely reproaching it for declining to be hit.'Maybe there 's a bias in the spear, like in bowls,' he said. 'My spear 's just the same, for dash me if I can hit the trunk neither.'The two seamen, with half a dozen natives, were on outpost duty in a glade a few miles on the seaward side of the village. Trentham had reported the result of his reconnaissance to the ailing chief, who realised at once that an attempt to release his men by force from an enemy equipped with the fire magic that his ancestors had lost was bound to fail. When Trentham pointed out that the Germans would probably make further raids, to increase the number of their slaves, and suggested the propriety of establishing outpost stations where watch might be kept, he assented, and agreed that Grinson and Meek should take their turns with the rest. Each band of natives chosen for this duty was accompanied by one who belonged to the chief's own caste, so that Meek's dread of being eaten, though not wholly removed, was a good deal lessened. The two men beguiled the tedious hours by practising spear-throwing under the tuition of the natives, but after three days had gained little skill. Grinson was more vigorous than accurate in his casts, while Meek, handling his spear as if it were a paper dart, could throw neither far nor straight; he was a model of patient ineptitude.'I tell you what it is, Ephraim,' said the boatswain, sitting on the grass, 'spears ain't tools for Christians, and I 'd scorn to demean myself to these poor heathens, what knows no better. We 'll leave 'em to 'em, me lad. Not that they 'd be any good if the Germans come with guns.''D' you think they will, Mr. Grinson?'''Course they will, if they come at all. I don't know what the gents mean by sticking on here. We can't do no good, and if they 'd listen to me we 'd slip off and chance our luck.''Aye, my vittals don't agree wi' me. I 'm falling away, Mr. Grinson. Look here.'Meek was drawing together the band of his trousers to show how much he had fallen away, when Hoole came into the glade.'Grinson, come with me,' he said. 'I want you to relieve Mr. Trentham at a new post we 've fixed up about a mile away. Carry on till I come back, Meek; I 'll relieve you then for a spell.'Meek looked far from happy when left alone with the natives. Having nothing else to do, he picked up his spear and resumed his feeble practice. While he was so engaged, the natives, who had been seated, solemnly watching him, suddenly sprang to their feet and gazed expectantly towards the trees. Meek had heard nothing, and as he ambled forward to retrieve his spear he was startled by the silent appearance of Kafulu, one of the men who had been captured. Still more amazed was he to see that the Papuan carried a rifle.The natives greeted their comrade with cries of joy, and crowded about him, plying him with questions. In a few moments they fell silent, and listened intently as Kafulu eagerly addressed them. Meek, a little in the background, watched his gestures, wondering what he was saying, and why he continually brandished the gun. Presently Kafulu turned and pointed in the direction from which he had come, and then Meek noticed that his back was seamed with scarcely healed weals. His attention was immediately diverted, for among the trees at which Kafulu was pointing he caught sight of the faces of several white men, who appeared to be making signs of friendship. Now thoroughly alarmed, he turned to flee; but the Germans issued suddenly from the forest; one of them made a sign to Kafulu, who sprinted across the glade with some of his companions, sprang upon Meek from behind, and hauled him back.[image]KAFULU SPRANG UPON MEEK FROM BEHIND.'Mr. Grinson. Ahoy, Mr. Grinson!' shouted Meek.His last word was smothered by a big hand laid across his mouth, and his eyes widened with amazement when he looked into the face of his captor. There were six Germans, armed with rifles. Forming a guard round the natives, they hurried them into the forest, with Meek helpless in their midst.About an hour later Hoole and Trentham returned to the spot.'Hullo! There's no one here,' said Trentham. 'Meek understood that he was to wait here until relieved?''Yes. He looked a trifle uneasy, but he wouldn't desert his post. Surely----''They couldn't resist the temptation, you mean? I hope it's not so bad as that. Let us see if we can trace the way he 's gone. Here 's his spear on the ground.''And here are his footprints. By gum, Trentham, look here: a good many European boots have been treading the grass. They came from the forest, and went back again. Germans, sure!''It looks like it. But it's unaccountable. The natives are too sharp-eared to have been taken by surprise. They ought to have got Meek away in time.''I 'll be shot if they haven't gone too! These are prints of bare feet, aren't they?''There 's no doubt about that. Theymusthave been surprised and collared, without a shot fired. This is pretty bad, Hoole.''I guess they wanted more miners. Wonder they haven't raided the village long before this.''I suppose they didn't think it worth while to come so far from the cove and make an organised raid. Bows and spears wouldn't be much use against firearms, of course; but the Germans might have lost a few men in a regular attack, and they preferred to snap up small parties here and there.''Any good going after them?''Not an atom. You may be sure they 're armed, and we have--one revolver. Things are in a deuce of a mess, Hoole. If the natives are such poor scouts we stand to lose more of these outposts. We shall have to drop the scheme. And the immediate thing now is to go and bring Grinson back; he 'll be mad at losing Meek. We had better talk things over with him, and see if anything can be done; for the life of me I can't think what.'Trentham's contempt of the Papuans' scouting ability was not justified, as he would have known could he have heard and understood what Kafulu had said to his comrades. He had told them that the white men had the fire magic of which they had heard. It was hidden in the stick he showed them. If they would work for the white men, they too would be given sticks like the one he carried, and then they would be the lords of the village. Kafulu was Hahn's dupe and decoy.When Grinson heard that his companion of twenty-five years had been captured, his eyes became moist, and at first he seemed incapable of speech. Then his lips were pressed together rigidly; he flung away his spear, snatched out his knife, and cried:'Which way, sir? Let me get at 'em.''You 'd do no good, Grinson,' said Trentham. 'They 'd shoot you down.''But 'tis Ephraim, sir--the lad as has been wi' me all over the seven seas. I can't fool about and do nothing when my mate is digging coal for those blackguard Germans. I put it to you, young gentlemen----''Yes, we understand; but you must see that we three are not in a position to attack goodness knows how many men armed with rifles. We should only be killed or collared too. The sole chance of rescuing Meek----''Say the word, sir,' said Grinson as Trentham paused.'Well, I confess I see no chance at the present moment; but at any rate it will be hopeless if we get into the Germans' clutches ourselves. Some plan may occur to us. Meanwhile let us get back. I 'm afraid the chief will be cut up at the loss of more of his men.'With the natives of the outposts they set off towards the village. Long before they reached it there came through the forest a long-drawn mournful howl, or rather a chorus of howls, like the cries of hundreds of dumb animals in pain. Ejaculations broke from the lips of the natives. They looked at one another with expressions of dismay, then set off at a trot, howling as they went.'They 've already got wind of it at the village,' said Hoole. 'Perhaps one or two fellows escaped.'''Tis worse than that, sir,' said Grinson. 'It means death. I heard the niggers howl like that, the time I was at Moresby. It fair chills your blood, though they 'll laugh like hyenas as soon as the funeral's over.'Hurrying on, with the horrible sound growing ever louder, they arrived at the village, and found the whole population assembled in front of the stockade, rocking themselves to and fro, and howling incessantly. Dark looks greeted the white men as they passed through the midst of the throng and entered at the open gate. Within, all was silent. No one was to be seen except the medicine-man, who was just issuing from the chief's house. He stalked slowly through the enclosure and out at the gate. Then the people emerged from their huts, and a number of the elder men formed up in procession and marched slowly into the house. When they had disappeared, the interpreter came up to Trentham.'Chief fella, he gone dead,' he murmured.CHAPTER XTHE CAST OF THE DIEAn hour after the white men's return, they watched from their hut the funeral procession winding towards the gate. Some of the younger men led the way; then followed four bearers, with the body of the dead chief encased in his sleeping-mat. Behind marched his relatives and the whole of the population of the enclosure, the men wearing towering head-dresses of feathers, the women carrying small branches.'Shall we follow?' asked Hoole.'Perhaps the people would like it,' replied Trentham.But when they reached the gate at the tail of the procession they were stopped by the interpreter.'New chief he say no come alonga,' said he. 'Me fella people say old chief he die alonga you; all proper mad.''That accounts for their scowls as we came in,' remarked Trentham. 'I suppose the medicine-man accuses us of giving the evil eye. But the new chief, whoever he is, evidently doesn't want us to be pulled to pieces.''Things are going from bad to worse,' said Hoole. 'Our news won't make them better pleased with us. I guess there 'll be trouble.'The death of the chief and the absence of his son had in fact kindled a slumbering spark of revolt in the Papuan community. A chief in New Guinea at no time wields great authority over his tribe, and the prestige of the dominant caste had already fallen low. Authority was assumed by a cousin of the dead man, but he had no moral qualities to support it. After the funeral, when Trentham reported to him, through the interpreter, the capture of the outpost, his agitation bordered on hysteria. The Papuans already connected their recent misfortunes with the arrival of the white men, who, they declared, were in league with the white men from the ship, and were responsible for the capture of their leader Kafulu and the late chief's son. The disappearance of the outpost would confirm their dark suspicions, and the fact that Meek also had gone would seem to them proof of collusion.Trentham offered to relieve the chief of anxiety by quitting the place with his companions, but this suggestion only increased his distress, and it dawned upon Trentham that he was inclined to cling to the white men as upholders of his feebleness. How feeble he was became apparent before Trentham left the house. A number of the Papuans came to the outer gate and demanded an interview with their new chief. On being admitted, their spokesman recounted the disasters that had befallen the tribe since the strangers came, and insisted on the two younger men being given to them for a cannibal feast. Was it not the custom, they asked, within the memory of the elder men, for a sacrifice to be made on the death of a chief? The victims were at hand. As for the fat man who bore the totem mark on his shoulder, they must spare him, but being a white man he must be sent away; let him go into the forest.The chief was on the point of yielding, in the hope of gaining popularity with his unruly subjects, when one of the elder patricians interposed. The late chief had spared the white men, he said; they were friends of Flanso, who would rightfully have succeeded his father; and if Flanso returned he would certainly vent his wrath on any one who did them harm. This firm stand on the part of a man of weight caused the unstable chief to veer. With an effort to assume a firm and dignified attitude he dismissed the deputation, who retired in undisguised dissatisfaction and anger.It was only after they had departed that Trentham learnt from the interpreter what their object had been, and how their request had been received. Watching the scene intently, he had noted the indecision of the chief and the mischief that blazed in the eyes of the Papuans.'I 'm afraid there 's trouble brewing,' he said on returning to his hut. 'The new chief's a man of straw; he 'll give way to the cannibals one of these times, and then----''I guess we won't wait for that,' said Hoole. 'We should be no worse off in the forest, and I vote we clear out one dark night and take our chance.''What about Ephraim, sir?' asked Grinson. 'I say nothing about you two gentlemen, but only speak for myself, and I swear I won't leave these 'ere parts without Ephraim.''Sure,' said Hoole. 'I 'm with you all the time. But you 'll allow it requires a little consideration, Grinson, and my proposition is that we all put on our thinking caps and see if we can hit on one of those cunning plots you read of in story-books. I only wish I had a pipe. Smoke clears the air.'Trentham smiled; Grinson opened his tobacco-box.'Chewing won't do the trick, I suppose, sir,' he said. 'I 've enough twist for two quids.''No, no; I 've never chewed anything hotter than gum,' said Hoole. 'Keep your baccy, man. I say, it's time for our supper. They 're late this evening. Do they keep a fast after a funeral?''I fancy I hear 'em coming now, sir. Maybe it's an extra spread.'But the native brought only the food to which they were accustomed, and of which they were heartily tired. It was dark by the time they had finished their meal. They had no light, but they squatted on their mats, chatting quietly until sleepiness should steal upon them. The sounds from beyond the stockade died down as usual; it seemed, indeed, that stillness had fallen upon the village earlier than on any previous night. Grinson was the first to close his eyes; the other two were still talking in low tones when a sudden commotion from the direction of the gate caused them to spring up and rush to the doorway, where Grinson immediately joined them. They could see nothing in the darkness, but the cries of the two men who always stood on guard were drowned by a chorus of savage yells. Men were heard rushing across the enclosure; then came the whistling of spears and sharp cracks of clubs falling on solid skulls.'The beggars outside are attacking the stockade,' said Trentham.''Tis rank mutiny and rebellion,' growled Grinson. 'Shall we lend a hand, sir?'Hoole had whipped out his revolver.'Hold hard,' said Trentham; 'we may want that for a later occasion. I think we had better let them fight it out. For one thing, we 're not used to their weapons; then, if we take sides, we 're hopelessly done with the Papuans, and shouldn't dare to show our faces among them.''But we 'll have to fight for our lives if they break in,' said Hoole. 'We might get away now.''I don't think they 'll break in. The stockade 's very stout. Don't you think we might turn the crisis to account?''How do you mean?''Let us wait a little and see how the fight goes. Whichever side wins, I think we may have a trump card.'They stood listening to the din, which appeared to be concentrated in the neighbourhood of the gate. It lasted only a few minutes. The sentries had detected the stealthy approach of the Papuans in the nick of time. The stockade was manned before the attack gathered force; its stout timbers resisted all the onslaughts of the undisciplined savages, who drew off, baffled, carrying away those who had been disabled by the weapons of the defenders.'Now 's the time for us to chip in,' said Trentham. 'It's clear that we are responsible, partly at any rate, for the situation. The Papuans suspect us of complicity with the Germans; they are angry because they can't feast on us; and they believe it's due to us that their friends have been captured. The present chief is no good; he 'll either give way to them in the end, or will ultimately be beaten by sheer weight of numbers. Nothing will restore the position but the return of the rightful chief--that young fellow Flanso.''Who 's a prisoner,' remarked Hoole.'Exactly. Well, we must rescue him and the other prisoners, including Meek. By that means we shall please everybody.''You 've got a plan?''An idea came into my head suddenly just now when the fight was going on. With care and luck it may work. If you like it, I 'll go and see the chief, and we can start to-morrow.'During the next twenty minutes the three men were engaged in an earnest discussion. Then Trentham made his way to the chief's house, where most of the important men of the community were assembled. Half an hour later he returned to his friends.'It's all right,' he said. 'By Jove! talking pidgin is the most tiring job I know. In the morning the chief will make an oration at the gate. He 's not at all keen on his new job, and would like to see Flanso back. He believes the rebels will be willing to give us a chance. Then it's up to us.'The chief turned out to be better as an orator than as a man of action--Cicero rather than Coriolanus, as Trentham suggested. His speech brought about an instant change of feeling in the Papuans. If the white men restored Kafulu and his comrades to them, they would let bygones be bygones. If Flanso also was restored to his people, they would dutifully accept his authority.Two hours after sunrise the whole population, a silent throng, gathered at the sides of the track to watch the white men start on their enterprise. Three stalwart natives accompanied them, each of whom carried, wound about his body, a long coil of grass rope. Grinson was himself again.'Good-bye, old ugly mug,' he cried as he passed the man who had discovered his totem mark. 'Wait till the clouds roll by. Farewell, sweet maid'--to a hideous old woman; 'for they all love Jack, and you 'll meet us coming back, and there 'll be dancing with the lasses on the green, oh! It pleases 'em, sir,' he said, apologetically, to Trentham, 'though they don't understand, poor heathens. But I 've been told I 've got a very good singing voice.''Let's hope you won't sing another tune before the day 's over,' said Trentham.CHAPTER XITHE ORDEAL OF EPHRAIM MEEKMeek's mind worked slowly. For some little time, as he marched shorewards among his fellow captives, he realised merely the fact that he was a prisoner in the hands of the Germans. He did not ask himself why he had been captured, or throw his imagination forward in an effort to forecast his fate. With his usual shambling gait he trudged on, glancing now at the Papuans, now at the Germans, and occasionally stroking his thin whiskers in the manner of one who finds the world a great puzzle.Presently illumination came to him. Fixing his eyes on the stout figure of the man who led the party, he muttered 'Trousers!' and thought of Mr. Grinson. Yes, to be sure, this was the extraordinary mariner who had swum ashore from a wreck without soiling his trousers, who had been saved from the cannibals' cooking pot, and had mysteriously disappeared when leading his rescuers to Mushroom Hill. His trousers were not so clean as they had been; there were black smudges on them. What would Mr. Grinson say to that?Before Meek had got much further in his cogitations, he found himself fully occupied in keeping his footing on a rugged zigzag path that scored the surface of a steep downward slope. Then, lifting his eyes, he beheld the sea, and below, in a still cove, a vessel painted bright blue lying close inshore, and moored stem and stern. In shape she resembled the raider which had sunk theBerenisaa few weeks before, but she had had a new coat of paint. Meek saw at a glance that she had steam up, and wondered whether she was short-handed and he had been impressed to make up her complement.A turn in the path shut the vessel from his view, but opened up another scene. On the left a number of natives were felling small trees, in charge of a European who every now and then cracked a long whip. 'I don't hold with nigger-driving!' thought Meek, shaking his head as he passed on.The path becoming easier, he was now able to think of something more than his feet. ''Tis the Raider,' he said to himself, 'though never did I see a ship of her tonnage painted sky blue afore. Trousers is a German, without a doubt. Now what 's he think he 's going to do with me? I 'll not sign on with a German pirate--never!'Another turn brought the cove again into view. The seaplane had just risen from the surface, and was now soaring towards the western horn. A few seconds afterwards Hahn and his party reached the sentry, who saluted, looking curiously at Meek. Hahn struck to the left, and presently, after another steep descent, came to the broad ledge on which natives were moving up and down, carrying baskets out of a shallow tunnel. The full baskets were tipped over on to the beach, then taken back to the tunnel to be refilled. In charge of the toilers was a sturdy German seaman, who had a rifle slung over his back and held in his right hand a long, evil-looking whip.Meek's ideas were becoming clarified. As a seaman he knew what a great expenditure of coal was involved in keeping the Raider with steam up, even though the fires were banked. Clearly the Germans had been scouring the neighbourhood for men to work the seam which they had discovered in the cliff side. But he was still wondering what he had to do with all this, when he received a rude shock.'Another batch for you, Hans,' said Hahn in German to the overseer. 'There 's an Englishman among them as you see. It's almost time to knock off now. Put him in the compound with the rest; we 'll set him at work to-morrow.'The man grinned. Herding the new batch of prisoners into an enclosure like a sheep pen, adjacent to the mouth of the tunnel, he drew a hurdle across the entrance, and returned to superintend the last operations of the day. Hahn, meanwhile, had descended to the beach and entered the officers' shed.Meek, of course, had not understood what Hahn had said. Without suspicion of the morrow's destiny, he found himself penned up with half a dozen black men, and felt the indignity of his position.'Like sheep!' he muttered. 'Like sheep! What would Mr. Grinson say?'He was no longer beset by fears of being eaten. The natives squatted apart, talking among themselves, and watching their comrades on the ledge. If Meek could have understood their speech, he would have known that they were already suspicious of Kafulu, who had quitted them a little while before. Was it for this that he had enticed them away--to carry heavy baskets of black rock from a dark fearsome hole? How long would it be before they received the firesticks promised them? Their comrades looked unhappy. How quiet they were! How they shrank away when they passed the man with the whip! Where was Flanso?Presently a whistle sounded below. The men who had empty baskets set them down against the wall of the ledge and stood in line. Those whose baskets were full tipped their contents on to the beach, and joined their fellows. From the mouth of the tunnel streamed the niggers, blinking as they came into the light. Wearily they dragged themselves to their places in the line--silent, cowed, miserable. Among them was Flanso, and at sight of him the six natives in the pen drew in their breath. His cheeks were hollowed; his skin was no longer a glistening bronze, but the dull black of coal dust.The German counted the men as they formed up. When he had counted twenty-eight he cracked his whip, and the limp nerveless creatures turned to the right and marched into the pen, where they flung themselves down in utter dejection. They scarcely heeded the newcomers; only Flanso started on seeing Meek, and turned upon him a look of agonised inquiry, of which the seaman was unconscious.A few minutes later four seamen came from below, each carrying two pails. They set these down within the pen, and at a signal from Hans the natives approached one by one, and took their food in their hands. Each man had as much as his two hands would hold of a sort of thick porridge. When Meek's turn came, he shook his head.'No, it ain't proper,' he said. 'Not for a white man. I can't do it.'Hans knew no English, but Meek's objection was obvious. He laughed, and when the seamen returned with pails of water he said to them: 'The English swine won't eat out of his hands. Tell the quarter-master.'They jeered at Meek, took up the empty pails and departed. When they came back for the water-pails, one of them carried a basin of porridge, a spoon, and a mug of water, which he handed to Meek with an oath. While Meek ate his supper the Germans stood around him, uttering flouts and jibes, which, being incomprehensible, did not spoil his appetite. When he had finished they left with the utensils, another man came to relieve Hans for the night, and the prisoners were left in the pen until it was almost dark. Then the sentry cracked his whip, the natives sprang to their feet and lined up, and Meek looked on in astonishment as they were marched into the tunnel, the entrance to which, when all had gone in, was closed by means of a stout wooden grating. He was left alone in the pen.'I don't rightly know if this is what they call slavery,' he murmured, 'but it do seem so. I don't hold with it. What would Mr. Grinson say?'The night was chilly, and Meek slept uneasily. Once he was awakened by a flash from a lantern, and saw another German staring at him curiously.'Aha, John Bull!' said the man with a grin.Meek turned over and went to sleep again.When he awoke, cramped and stiff, in the morning, the natives were filing into the pen. Breakfast was a repetition of supper, and after the meal Hans appeared, and drove the men back to their work. Three of the new prisoners were sent into the tunnel to dig, the other three were made carriers. Meek was again left alone.About ten o'clock Hahn came up, with two of his fellow officers, who stared at Meek, laughed, talked in their own language, and departed, leaving Hahn behind.'Your, name is Meek, I zink so?' said the German.'Ay, Ephraim Meek, that's my name.''So! Veil, Ephraim Meek, never I exbected to haf ze bleasure to see you again. Ze ozers--vere are zey?'Meek looked at him for a few moments in silence. The German was not aware, then, that the other three had been with him in the native village. Slow-witted though he was, Meek had an inspiration. To tell the truth might harm his friends. He had a brief struggle with his conscience, decided for a compromise, and said:'I don't know. They may be eat.''So!' Hahn looked pleased. 'Zey vere fatter as you. Ze niggers keep you to fatten, eh? Veil, Ephraim Meek, I save you, see? I bring you here. You are safe. Of course, you must make yourself useful. You shall eat, zerefore shall you vork. You shall find a pick or a basket--and zere is blenty of coal.'Meek stroked his whiskers, looked at the German, then shook his head.'No; I can't do it,' he said. 'Not coal.' Hahn laughed.'You do look like a broken-kneed horse,' he said. 'Not equal to ze niggers; but you haf strength enough for zis job.''Not coal,' Meek repeated, in his mournful tones.'Vy not coal? You are afraid to soil ze hands? Ach! Is coal more dirty as ze tar of your ropes? A seaman's hands! Ha! ha! You are funny man, Meek!'Hahn laughed heartily; it seemed to him a very good joke. Meek, however, had thrust his hands into his pockets and set his lips doggedly.'Come,' said Hahn impatiently. 'Zis is to vaste time. You shall----''True, it is waste time,' Meek interrupted. Speaking with a firmness which Grinson would hardly have recognised, he went on: 'I 'll dig no coal for Germans, not I. I 'll not soil my hands with it. Not for German pirates. Never in the world.'For a few moments Hahn stared at the seaman as though he were a strange animal, a curiosity in the natural world. Then he guffawed scornfully.'So!' he ejaculated. 'You are a lord, eh? A prince, eh? You vill not vork, eh? And you exbect to haf good food for nozink, a broken-kneed swine of a sailor. Hans,' he cried, speaking in German, 'take this hound of an Englishman and tie him to yonder stump, and leave him there until he comes to his senses. He refuses to work. Not a morsel of food, not a drop of water. See to that!'The man grinned, laid aside his whip, came into the pen, and seized Meek by the arm. And then Meek belied his name. His mild countenance was transfigured. Wrenching his arm from the German's grasp, he doubled his fist, and let out with a drive that sent the man staggering back against the fence. Though his frame was slight, and his legs were neither shapely nor firm, he had not served a lifetime at sea without developing a certain muscular force. But his active resentment, natural as it was, was nevertheless unwise. The two Germans sprang on him together. His struggles were vain. Twisting his arms, his captors dragged him out of the pen to the tree-stump which Hahn had indicated, and in a minute had lashed him firmly to it. Hahn kicked him; the other picked up his whip and flicked the helpless prisoner, then rushed among the natives, who had halted to watch the scene, and smote right and left among them. With a parting jeer, Hahn descended the path to the beach, leaving Hans in charge.Meek's face was towards the sea, and he had a full view of the ledge and of the cove below. The natives passed in and out of the tunnel, glistening with perspiration, urged to utmost exertion by fear of the merciless whip. They tipped their baskets over the brink of the ledge, coughing as clouds of black dust rose and enveloped them. On the beach some of the Raider's crew moved idly about. At the door of the shed Hahn stood talking to an officer, apparently the captain of the vessel; they both glanced up at the ledge, laughed, and evidently found amusement in discussing the plight of their victim. Meek noticed that there were no uniforms among the Germans, but a something indefinable in their air and gait bred the conviction that they were men of the navy.It was not long before Meek was suffering torture from the heat and his bonds. He could not move either arms or legs; his throat was filled with coal dust; he longed for water to moisten his parched lips. Now and then the overseer passed him, grinning in his face, uttering words of mockery which affected Meek only by their tone. To him it was so much ugly bad language. He spoke no word, did not deign to beg for mercy, even though, as the hours passed, he felt that exhaustion and presently death itself must overtake him. In this time of trial it appeared that a new spirit had assumed possession of him--or rather the old spirit of British seadogs, the spirit that would scorn to show sign of flinching.About midday Hahn came up to the ledge, and stood with arms akimbo, contemplating his prisoner.'You see?' he said. 'You haf now enough? You vill obey?'Meek gazed at him out of haggard eyes, but said never a word.Hahn pointed to a man carrying a well-loaded tray into the officers' shed below.'Blenty of food. Beer--English beer. A pint of 'alf-an'-'alf, eh? Zere is zome for you--ven you get coal. I am not hard, no. You say you vill dig, and I loose you--you shall haf a glass beer before you dig; zat is not hard? You say yes?'Meek moved his tongue over his dry lips.'Not for German pirates!' he muttered huskily.'Pirates, you dog!' cried Hahn with a fierce scowl, and seemed to be about to argue the point, but changed his mind. Cursing Meek as an English fool, he went away.During the greater part of the day Meek was partly shaded from the sun by the cliff towering behind him; but in the afternoon the rays beat upon his head, and his agony increased. With all his strength of will he resisted the faintness that threatened to overpower him. He felt that he must not give way before these black men, who passed up and down hour after hour until his bloodshot eyes were dazzled.The time came for work to cease. Again the natives were herded into the pen, and the seamen brought them their food. The Germans jeered at the helpless prisoner as they passed him; one of them dangled a pail of water under his eyes. Then exhausted nature could endure no more. Meek's head lolled forward. Hans rushed up, looked at him, and called down to the beach that the Englishman had fainted.'Fling a pail of water over him!' shouted Hahn. 'I am coming.'

CHAPTER VIII

A RECONNAISSANCE

The hut allotted to the four white men, like all the others in the inner enclosure, was built of logs, and in shape resembled an expanded sentry-box. It had no furniture except a few grass mats laid upon the earthen floor, and a clumsy rack of sticks, containing some crude platters of clay, and a couple of heavy wooden clubs. Worn out by their recent experiences, the occupants slept soundly through their first night as the chief's guests, only disturbed at intervals by the visitations of cockroaches which the darkness drew from crevices in the walls.

Next morning they were given a breakfast of bananas and nuts, and water brought to them in long bamboo stalks, which had been cleaned of their partitions except at the end.

'We are not supposed to wash,' remarked Trentham, 'and we can't shave; before long we shall all be as hairy as Meek.'

Meek looked apologetic, and Grinson passed a hand over his cheeks and chin, already dark with stubble.

'A regular Jack ashore, sir,' he said, 'and no barber round the corner. What is to be will be, and I only hope I make a better show than Ephraim; his whiskers ain't much of an ornament, I must say.'

'I ought to have shaved young,' sighed Meek. ''Tis too late now, Mr. Grinson.'

'Truly, Ephraim, you 've lost your chance, poor lad. But you might look worse, that's one comfort.'

While they were at breakfast the man who had interpreted on the previous day came with a message from the chief. They were free to move about the enclosure, but the gate was forbidden them.

'We 're prisoners, then,' said Hoole.

'I fancy he doesn't trust the cannibals outside,' said Trentham. 'For the present I dare say we are safer where we are. But I don't know how we are to kill time.'

'Here you are, sir,' said Grinson, producing a greasy pack of cards. 'A rubber or two 'll be good for the digestion. Ephraim plays a good hand, though you might not think it.'

While they were playing cards a man came from the chief's house and looked in on them through the doorway. His shadow caused them to glance up, and Hoole and Trentham recognised him as the patrician leader of the party from whom they had rescued Hahn. They wondered whether the recognition was mutual, feeling that it might go hardly with them if they were known; but the man, after a prolonged stare of curiosity, departed without giving any sign of suspicion. It came out afterwards that his party, finding the chimney blocked, had had to wait for the ebb tide and then walk for some miles along the shore before they reached a practicable path up the cliffs. They had then returned to the chimney, removed the obstruction from its top, and sought to track the fugitives; but they had lost the trail in the forest.

Several days passed--days of tedium and growing irritation. The prisoners were given regular meals of bananas, sweet potatoes, and other roots, sometimes a bird or a pig; but movement beyond the stockade was still interdicted. They saw nothing of the chief, and one day, when Trentham sent him a message, asking that they might be allowed to go out and see what the Germans were doing, the answer was that he was sick, and could not attend to them until he was out and about again. Hoole suggested that it was a diplomatic illness, but the sight of the hideously painted figure of the tribal medicine-man going every day into the chief's house seemed to show that the reason given was genuine.

One afternoon there were signs of much excitement in the village. From beyond the stockade came a babel of voices; a man admitted through the gate gave those within some news which appeared to agitate them, and a few minutes after he had entered the chief's house the interpreter came running to the hut, and said that the chief wished to see the 'white man fella' at once.

'Release at last!' said Trentham when he returned. Alone of the four, Meek showed no sign of pleasure.

'The old fellow is in a pretty bad way,' Trentham went on. 'The medicine-man was chanting incantations over him, and he looked pathetically resigned. He had just heard bad news. It appears that his son, whose name I understood to be Flanso--a corruption of François, I fancy--went out yesterday with a small scouting party, and had just got through that burnt village when they were surprised by a number of white men and collared; only the messenger escaped. Among the party was Kafulu, the head-man of the natives outside, and it's to that fact we owe our chance. I offered to go out and see if I could discover what had become of the prisoners, anticipating the chief's request. He jumped at it, and told me that the cannibals outside, when they understand what our errand is, won't do us any harm. But only you and I are to go, Hoole; the others must remain as hostages.'

'A dirty trick, sir,' said Meek. 'As sure as your back is turned, they 'll eat me; I know they will.'

'Don't you take on, Ephraim,' said Grinson. ''Tis true I 'd rather go with the gentlemen, but I 'll protect you, me lad. Before they eat you, they 'll have to cook my goose.'

Early next morning, Hoole and Trentham started with half a dozen of the chief's best men and the interpreter. Hoole had his revolver, Trentham a spear like those with which the escort were armed. They marched rapidly through the forest, reached the burnt village about midday, and found there the bodies of two of the scouting party, shot by the Germans. From this point they moved with great circumspection, the guide leading them through a maze of vegetation by a winding track that bore downhill, crossing narrow gullies and swift hill streams.

Late in the afternoon they entered a tract of country strewn with rounded boulders, which had no doubt been brought down in remote ages by glacial action from the mountain range in the interior. Here the ground sloped steeply to the edge of the cliffs, and they had a view far over the sea. Deprived of cover by the lack of vegetation, they bore away towards the forest on the right. Though they had approached by a different route, the white men now recognised the spot from which they had caught sight of the Raider lying in the cove below the cliffs. Half-way down the forest-clad slope Trentham called a halt.

'We know where we are now, Hoole,' he said, 'and I think we had better leave the natives here under cover while we go on by ourselves. They 'll be no good to us in reconnoitring, and the fewer the better on a job like this.'

He instructed the interpreter to remain with the men on guard, and if not rejoined by nightfall, to return to the village.

A very rough and narrow track led through the trees and scrub with which the whole face of the cliff was covered. The two men crept cautiously down this for some distance; then it occurred to Hoole that it would be safer to make a way of their own through the bush, for at some turn of the track they might suddenly meet some one ascending, or emerge unexpectedly into view from the beach. Accordingly they turned off to the right, and continued their course as quickly as possible under cover, moving parallel with the track.

Not many minutes had passed before they had reason to be glad that the precaution had occurred to Hoole in time. Less than a hundred yards below the spot where they had quitted the track they came to the edge of a space from which the vegetation had been cleared away. The path ran through this, and at one side of it stood a rough log hut where a German sailor, armed with a rifle, was standing on guard. Trentham, a little in advance of Hoole, was the first to catch sight of the man. He motioned to Hoole to halt, peered out for a few moments at the scene before him, then went back.

'There 's a sentry-post below,' he said in a low tone. 'The man's back was towards me; he was watching something going on below him. We shall have to creep round. It's pretty rough going; take care you don't slip.'

Keeping on the seaward side of the sentry, they wormed their way through the bush. With every step the descent became steeper, and they had to cling to branches and roots in order to keep their footing. The contour of the cliff hid them from the sentry, but the dislodging of a loose stone might at any moment betray their presence, and they let themselves down inch by inch with great care.

[image]WITH EVERY STEP THE DESCENT BECAME STEEPER.

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WITH EVERY STEP THE DESCENT BECAME STEEPER.

As they had noticed on the occasion of their previous visit, the cove in which the Raider lay was almost encircled. The cliff which they were now scaling jutted out in a kind of spit on the eastern side. When they finally reached its base they found themselves among a tangle of jagged rocks. The tide was coming in, and they realised from the banks of seaweed that the rocks were covered at the flood, and that they had little time to spare if their reconnaissance was to lead them much farther and they had to return by the same route.

After a precautionary glance seaward they began to make their way through the mass of rocks, clambering, springing from one to another, always careful not to expose themselves to the view of the sentry somewhere high up on their left. Presently, between two high rocks at the outer edge, they caught sight of blue water. Entering the gap, they looked out, and found that almost the whole of the cove was before them.

'She 's gone,' said Hoole.

The well-remembered vessel was no longer at her anchorage. No craft of any kind lay within the cove. But men were moving about the beach. To the left, near the base of the cliff, above high-water mark, were two large sheds; a little further on was a third shed, still larger. Between them the beach was covered with much miscellaneous litter, the nature of which the observers could not at present determine. What interested them most, and for a time puzzled them, was the sight of many dark figures working on a natural ledge some eighty feet above the sea level on the opposite side of the cove. They heard the sound of picks, and saw black men bringing baskets from a narrow tunnel in the cliff face, and emptying them on to the beach below. From the spot where the contents fell clouds of black dust rose high into the air. A white man was walking up and down the ledge, occasionally moving his right arm in a curiously jerky manner; and amid the other sounds came now and then rough shouts and sharp cracks.

'By George, Hoole!' exclaimed Trentham under his breath, 'that particular mystery is solved. They are working coal! There must be an outcrop in the cliff; of course they are not mining. The Raider can't rely on filling her bunkers from captures, apparently, or they wouldn't go to all this trouble.'

'I guess it's the niggers get the trouble,' remarked Hoole. 'That fellow--in the distance he 's mighty like Halm--is making good play with his whip. You may bet your bottom dollar they snapped up Flanso and the rest to increase the number of their hands. Say, d' you hear that purr?'

He swung round and looked seaward, shading his eyes with his hands.

'There she is,' he exclaimed a few moments later. 'Skip behind the rock, Trentham; she 's diving right here.'

'The seaplane?'

'Yes. Can't you see her? She 's cut off her engines, making a very pretty swoop. See her now?'

'Yes; you 've better eyes than mine, Hoole.'

Hoole smiled. His eyes were fixed on the machine with an intense admiring interest.

'She blips,' he said, as the engine spluttered for a second or two. 'Now she 's cut off again. The pilot knows his job. I wonder where she 'll come down.'

Crouching behind the rocks they watched the seaplane as it made a circling movement, diving all the time, until it swept round and headed straight for the entrance to the cove. From a height of about two hundred feet it swooped down towards the sea, 'blipped' again, then descended lightly upon the surface, ran a few yards, and at last came to rest a little distance from the beach. Several bare-legged German sailors had already emerged from one of the nearer sheds. They waded into the water. Two of them carried the occupants of the seaplane on their backs to the shore, then returned to help their comrades to pull the machine in. It glided smoothly up the beach until it rested just below the sheds.

'Gliders all complete,' said Hoole.

'What do you mean?'

'They 've laid down boards on the beach; you can't see them from here. They are well greased, too, to judge by the speed the floats slid up them. Those Germans are pretty thorough, Trentham.'

'Where did you pick up all these details?' asked Trentham curiously.

'Oh, I 've seen that sort of thing once or twice before. But hadn't we better get back? There 's nothing more to be seen from this quarter, and I presume Flanso and his men are on that ledge yonder, or near about.'

'That farthest shed is the officers' quarters, by the look of it. The two airmen have just gone inside. We 've learnt the lie of the land and not much else, I 'm afraid. Can't we go a little farther along the shore, behind the rocks, and climb the cliff nearer the sheds?'

'We can try, but 'ware the sentry.'

They had not gone far, however, before the incoming tide forced them to leave the rocks and clamber up through the bushes. The ascent was even more difficult than the descent had been, and a miscalculation of the direction of the path on which this sentry-box stood almost led to their undoing. They had supposed that it ran fairly straight to the sheds from the point at which they had left it; but the nature of the ground had necessitated its being carried a good many yards farther along the cliff, and then it bent round and formed a loop, approaching the sheds in the same direction as Hoole and Trentham were now going. Unaware of this, they were slowly climbing when Trentham slipped, displacing a mass of loose earth which went rattling down the cliff. They were not greatly alarmed, thinking that the sentry was too far away to have heard the sound through the noise of the coal-tipping across the cove. But footsteps not far above them caused them to snuggle behind a thick bush. The rustle of movement above drew nearer. Through the bush they saw the sentry stepping cautiously down, and prodding the vegetation with his bayonet. Hoole fingered his revolver, but Trentham signed to him that if any weapon had to be used it must be the spear. The sentry, however, stopped ten or a dozen yards above them, then, apparently satisfied that the landslide was accidental, laboriously climbed up the cliff.

Much relieved, for violent measures would have been fatal to the success of their reconnaissance, the two men waited for a quarter of an hour or so, then struck up the cliff some distance to the left of the spot where the sentry had appeared, and wormed their way to the path, far beyond his box, by a wide circuit. It was almost dark by the time they rejoined the natives. They marched a few miles until night descended upon them; then they rested for a while, discussing the results of their expedition.

'I 'm afraid the chief will be disappointed at our returning without his son,' said Trentham, 'but I hope he 'll see reason. We couldn't possibly have rescued him.'

'Clearly not,' said Hoole. 'There wasn't time to discover exactly where the Germans keep their slaves. I guess we 'll have to reconnoitre again, from the other side, before we can see our way clear. The absence of the Raider would help us considerably, for there appeared to be only about half a dozen Germans on the spot. I wish I could have seen whether that fellow cracking the whip was Hahn.'

'Why?'

'Well, we don't owe the skunk a great deal; besides, he 's got my watch.'

CHAPTER IX

COMPLICATIONS

'Does my eye squint, Ephraim, me lad?' asked Grinson, looking up into the face of his taller companion.

Meek gazed so earnestly at his questioner that his eyes converged.

'I don't see no sign of it, Mr. Grinson,' he said, 'and I wouldn't suppose as how you 'd be visited with that affliction at your time of life.'

'That's what I thought. Then why the mischief can't I hit that tree?'

Meek looked sadly at the tree in question, as if mutely reproaching it for declining to be hit.

'Maybe there 's a bias in the spear, like in bowls,' he said. 'My spear 's just the same, for dash me if I can hit the trunk neither.'

The two seamen, with half a dozen natives, were on outpost duty in a glade a few miles on the seaward side of the village. Trentham had reported the result of his reconnaissance to the ailing chief, who realised at once that an attempt to release his men by force from an enemy equipped with the fire magic that his ancestors had lost was bound to fail. When Trentham pointed out that the Germans would probably make further raids, to increase the number of their slaves, and suggested the propriety of establishing outpost stations where watch might be kept, he assented, and agreed that Grinson and Meek should take their turns with the rest. Each band of natives chosen for this duty was accompanied by one who belonged to the chief's own caste, so that Meek's dread of being eaten, though not wholly removed, was a good deal lessened. The two men beguiled the tedious hours by practising spear-throwing under the tuition of the natives, but after three days had gained little skill. Grinson was more vigorous than accurate in his casts, while Meek, handling his spear as if it were a paper dart, could throw neither far nor straight; he was a model of patient ineptitude.

'I tell you what it is, Ephraim,' said the boatswain, sitting on the grass, 'spears ain't tools for Christians, and I 'd scorn to demean myself to these poor heathens, what knows no better. We 'll leave 'em to 'em, me lad. Not that they 'd be any good if the Germans come with guns.'

'D' you think they will, Mr. Grinson?'

''Course they will, if they come at all. I don't know what the gents mean by sticking on here. We can't do no good, and if they 'd listen to me we 'd slip off and chance our luck.'

'Aye, my vittals don't agree wi' me. I 'm falling away, Mr. Grinson. Look here.'

Meek was drawing together the band of his trousers to show how much he had fallen away, when Hoole came into the glade.

'Grinson, come with me,' he said. 'I want you to relieve Mr. Trentham at a new post we 've fixed up about a mile away. Carry on till I come back, Meek; I 'll relieve you then for a spell.'

Meek looked far from happy when left alone with the natives. Having nothing else to do, he picked up his spear and resumed his feeble practice. While he was so engaged, the natives, who had been seated, solemnly watching him, suddenly sprang to their feet and gazed expectantly towards the trees. Meek had heard nothing, and as he ambled forward to retrieve his spear he was startled by the silent appearance of Kafulu, one of the men who had been captured. Still more amazed was he to see that the Papuan carried a rifle.

The natives greeted their comrade with cries of joy, and crowded about him, plying him with questions. In a few moments they fell silent, and listened intently as Kafulu eagerly addressed them. Meek, a little in the background, watched his gestures, wondering what he was saying, and why he continually brandished the gun. Presently Kafulu turned and pointed in the direction from which he had come, and then Meek noticed that his back was seamed with scarcely healed weals. His attention was immediately diverted, for among the trees at which Kafulu was pointing he caught sight of the faces of several white men, who appeared to be making signs of friendship. Now thoroughly alarmed, he turned to flee; but the Germans issued suddenly from the forest; one of them made a sign to Kafulu, who sprinted across the glade with some of his companions, sprang upon Meek from behind, and hauled him back.

[image]KAFULU SPRANG UPON MEEK FROM BEHIND.

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KAFULU SPRANG UPON MEEK FROM BEHIND.

'Mr. Grinson. Ahoy, Mr. Grinson!' shouted Meek.

His last word was smothered by a big hand laid across his mouth, and his eyes widened with amazement when he looked into the face of his captor. There were six Germans, armed with rifles. Forming a guard round the natives, they hurried them into the forest, with Meek helpless in their midst.

About an hour later Hoole and Trentham returned to the spot.

'Hullo! There's no one here,' said Trentham. 'Meek understood that he was to wait here until relieved?'

'Yes. He looked a trifle uneasy, but he wouldn't desert his post. Surely----'

'They couldn't resist the temptation, you mean? I hope it's not so bad as that. Let us see if we can trace the way he 's gone. Here 's his spear on the ground.'

'And here are his footprints. By gum, Trentham, look here: a good many European boots have been treading the grass. They came from the forest, and went back again. Germans, sure!'

'It looks like it. But it's unaccountable. The natives are too sharp-eared to have been taken by surprise. They ought to have got Meek away in time.'

'I 'll be shot if they haven't gone too! These are prints of bare feet, aren't they?'

'There 's no doubt about that. Theymusthave been surprised and collared, without a shot fired. This is pretty bad, Hoole.'

'I guess they wanted more miners. Wonder they haven't raided the village long before this.'

'I suppose they didn't think it worth while to come so far from the cove and make an organised raid. Bows and spears wouldn't be much use against firearms, of course; but the Germans might have lost a few men in a regular attack, and they preferred to snap up small parties here and there.'

'Any good going after them?'

'Not an atom. You may be sure they 're armed, and we have--one revolver. Things are in a deuce of a mess, Hoole. If the natives are such poor scouts we stand to lose more of these outposts. We shall have to drop the scheme. And the immediate thing now is to go and bring Grinson back; he 'll be mad at losing Meek. We had better talk things over with him, and see if anything can be done; for the life of me I can't think what.'

Trentham's contempt of the Papuans' scouting ability was not justified, as he would have known could he have heard and understood what Kafulu had said to his comrades. He had told them that the white men had the fire magic of which they had heard. It was hidden in the stick he showed them. If they would work for the white men, they too would be given sticks like the one he carried, and then they would be the lords of the village. Kafulu was Hahn's dupe and decoy.

When Grinson heard that his companion of twenty-five years had been captured, his eyes became moist, and at first he seemed incapable of speech. Then his lips were pressed together rigidly; he flung away his spear, snatched out his knife, and cried:

'Which way, sir? Let me get at 'em.'

'You 'd do no good, Grinson,' said Trentham. 'They 'd shoot you down.'

'But 'tis Ephraim, sir--the lad as has been wi' me all over the seven seas. I can't fool about and do nothing when my mate is digging coal for those blackguard Germans. I put it to you, young gentlemen----'

'Yes, we understand; but you must see that we three are not in a position to attack goodness knows how many men armed with rifles. We should only be killed or collared too. The sole chance of rescuing Meek----'

'Say the word, sir,' said Grinson as Trentham paused.

'Well, I confess I see no chance at the present moment; but at any rate it will be hopeless if we get into the Germans' clutches ourselves. Some plan may occur to us. Meanwhile let us get back. I 'm afraid the chief will be cut up at the loss of more of his men.'

With the natives of the outposts they set off towards the village. Long before they reached it there came through the forest a long-drawn mournful howl, or rather a chorus of howls, like the cries of hundreds of dumb animals in pain. Ejaculations broke from the lips of the natives. They looked at one another with expressions of dismay, then set off at a trot, howling as they went.

'They 've already got wind of it at the village,' said Hoole. 'Perhaps one or two fellows escaped.'

''Tis worse than that, sir,' said Grinson. 'It means death. I heard the niggers howl like that, the time I was at Moresby. It fair chills your blood, though they 'll laugh like hyenas as soon as the funeral's over.'

Hurrying on, with the horrible sound growing ever louder, they arrived at the village, and found the whole population assembled in front of the stockade, rocking themselves to and fro, and howling incessantly. Dark looks greeted the white men as they passed through the midst of the throng and entered at the open gate. Within, all was silent. No one was to be seen except the medicine-man, who was just issuing from the chief's house. He stalked slowly through the enclosure and out at the gate. Then the people emerged from their huts, and a number of the elder men formed up in procession and marched slowly into the house. When they had disappeared, the interpreter came up to Trentham.

'Chief fella, he gone dead,' he murmured.

CHAPTER X

THE CAST OF THE DIE

An hour after the white men's return, they watched from their hut the funeral procession winding towards the gate. Some of the younger men led the way; then followed four bearers, with the body of the dead chief encased in his sleeping-mat. Behind marched his relatives and the whole of the population of the enclosure, the men wearing towering head-dresses of feathers, the women carrying small branches.

'Shall we follow?' asked Hoole.

'Perhaps the people would like it,' replied Trentham.

But when they reached the gate at the tail of the procession they were stopped by the interpreter.

'New chief he say no come alonga,' said he. 'Me fella people say old chief he die alonga you; all proper mad.'

'That accounts for their scowls as we came in,' remarked Trentham. 'I suppose the medicine-man accuses us of giving the evil eye. But the new chief, whoever he is, evidently doesn't want us to be pulled to pieces.'

'Things are going from bad to worse,' said Hoole. 'Our news won't make them better pleased with us. I guess there 'll be trouble.'

The death of the chief and the absence of his son had in fact kindled a slumbering spark of revolt in the Papuan community. A chief in New Guinea at no time wields great authority over his tribe, and the prestige of the dominant caste had already fallen low. Authority was assumed by a cousin of the dead man, but he had no moral qualities to support it. After the funeral, when Trentham reported to him, through the interpreter, the capture of the outpost, his agitation bordered on hysteria. The Papuans already connected their recent misfortunes with the arrival of the white men, who, they declared, were in league with the white men from the ship, and were responsible for the capture of their leader Kafulu and the late chief's son. The disappearance of the outpost would confirm their dark suspicions, and the fact that Meek also had gone would seem to them proof of collusion.

Trentham offered to relieve the chief of anxiety by quitting the place with his companions, but this suggestion only increased his distress, and it dawned upon Trentham that he was inclined to cling to the white men as upholders of his feebleness. How feeble he was became apparent before Trentham left the house. A number of the Papuans came to the outer gate and demanded an interview with their new chief. On being admitted, their spokesman recounted the disasters that had befallen the tribe since the strangers came, and insisted on the two younger men being given to them for a cannibal feast. Was it not the custom, they asked, within the memory of the elder men, for a sacrifice to be made on the death of a chief? The victims were at hand. As for the fat man who bore the totem mark on his shoulder, they must spare him, but being a white man he must be sent away; let him go into the forest.

The chief was on the point of yielding, in the hope of gaining popularity with his unruly subjects, when one of the elder patricians interposed. The late chief had spared the white men, he said; they were friends of Flanso, who would rightfully have succeeded his father; and if Flanso returned he would certainly vent his wrath on any one who did them harm. This firm stand on the part of a man of weight caused the unstable chief to veer. With an effort to assume a firm and dignified attitude he dismissed the deputation, who retired in undisguised dissatisfaction and anger.

It was only after they had departed that Trentham learnt from the interpreter what their object had been, and how their request had been received. Watching the scene intently, he had noted the indecision of the chief and the mischief that blazed in the eyes of the Papuans.

'I 'm afraid there 's trouble brewing,' he said on returning to his hut. 'The new chief's a man of straw; he 'll give way to the cannibals one of these times, and then----'

'I guess we won't wait for that,' said Hoole. 'We should be no worse off in the forest, and I vote we clear out one dark night and take our chance.'

'What about Ephraim, sir?' asked Grinson. 'I say nothing about you two gentlemen, but only speak for myself, and I swear I won't leave these 'ere parts without Ephraim.'

'Sure,' said Hoole. 'I 'm with you all the time. But you 'll allow it requires a little consideration, Grinson, and my proposition is that we all put on our thinking caps and see if we can hit on one of those cunning plots you read of in story-books. I only wish I had a pipe. Smoke clears the air.'

Trentham smiled; Grinson opened his tobacco-box.

'Chewing won't do the trick, I suppose, sir,' he said. 'I 've enough twist for two quids.'

'No, no; I 've never chewed anything hotter than gum,' said Hoole. 'Keep your baccy, man. I say, it's time for our supper. They 're late this evening. Do they keep a fast after a funeral?'

'I fancy I hear 'em coming now, sir. Maybe it's an extra spread.'

But the native brought only the food to which they were accustomed, and of which they were heartily tired. It was dark by the time they had finished their meal. They had no light, but they squatted on their mats, chatting quietly until sleepiness should steal upon them. The sounds from beyond the stockade died down as usual; it seemed, indeed, that stillness had fallen upon the village earlier than on any previous night. Grinson was the first to close his eyes; the other two were still talking in low tones when a sudden commotion from the direction of the gate caused them to spring up and rush to the doorway, where Grinson immediately joined them. They could see nothing in the darkness, but the cries of the two men who always stood on guard were drowned by a chorus of savage yells. Men were heard rushing across the enclosure; then came the whistling of spears and sharp cracks of clubs falling on solid skulls.

'The beggars outside are attacking the stockade,' said Trentham.

''Tis rank mutiny and rebellion,' growled Grinson. 'Shall we lend a hand, sir?'

Hoole had whipped out his revolver.

'Hold hard,' said Trentham; 'we may want that for a later occasion. I think we had better let them fight it out. For one thing, we 're not used to their weapons; then, if we take sides, we 're hopelessly done with the Papuans, and shouldn't dare to show our faces among them.'

'But we 'll have to fight for our lives if they break in,' said Hoole. 'We might get away now.'

'I don't think they 'll break in. The stockade 's very stout. Don't you think we might turn the crisis to account?'

'How do you mean?'

'Let us wait a little and see how the fight goes. Whichever side wins, I think we may have a trump card.'

They stood listening to the din, which appeared to be concentrated in the neighbourhood of the gate. It lasted only a few minutes. The sentries had detected the stealthy approach of the Papuans in the nick of time. The stockade was manned before the attack gathered force; its stout timbers resisted all the onslaughts of the undisciplined savages, who drew off, baffled, carrying away those who had been disabled by the weapons of the defenders.

'Now 's the time for us to chip in,' said Trentham. 'It's clear that we are responsible, partly at any rate, for the situation. The Papuans suspect us of complicity with the Germans; they are angry because they can't feast on us; and they believe it's due to us that their friends have been captured. The present chief is no good; he 'll either give way to them in the end, or will ultimately be beaten by sheer weight of numbers. Nothing will restore the position but the return of the rightful chief--that young fellow Flanso.'

'Who 's a prisoner,' remarked Hoole.

'Exactly. Well, we must rescue him and the other prisoners, including Meek. By that means we shall please everybody.'

'You 've got a plan?'

'An idea came into my head suddenly just now when the fight was going on. With care and luck it may work. If you like it, I 'll go and see the chief, and we can start to-morrow.'

During the next twenty minutes the three men were engaged in an earnest discussion. Then Trentham made his way to the chief's house, where most of the important men of the community were assembled. Half an hour later he returned to his friends.

'It's all right,' he said. 'By Jove! talking pidgin is the most tiring job I know. In the morning the chief will make an oration at the gate. He 's not at all keen on his new job, and would like to see Flanso back. He believes the rebels will be willing to give us a chance. Then it's up to us.'

The chief turned out to be better as an orator than as a man of action--Cicero rather than Coriolanus, as Trentham suggested. His speech brought about an instant change of feeling in the Papuans. If the white men restored Kafulu and his comrades to them, they would let bygones be bygones. If Flanso also was restored to his people, they would dutifully accept his authority.

Two hours after sunrise the whole population, a silent throng, gathered at the sides of the track to watch the white men start on their enterprise. Three stalwart natives accompanied them, each of whom carried, wound about his body, a long coil of grass rope. Grinson was himself again.

'Good-bye, old ugly mug,' he cried as he passed the man who had discovered his totem mark. 'Wait till the clouds roll by. Farewell, sweet maid'--to a hideous old woman; 'for they all love Jack, and you 'll meet us coming back, and there 'll be dancing with the lasses on the green, oh! It pleases 'em, sir,' he said, apologetically, to Trentham, 'though they don't understand, poor heathens. But I 've been told I 've got a very good singing voice.'

'Let's hope you won't sing another tune before the day 's over,' said Trentham.

CHAPTER XI

THE ORDEAL OF EPHRAIM MEEK

Meek's mind worked slowly. For some little time, as he marched shorewards among his fellow captives, he realised merely the fact that he was a prisoner in the hands of the Germans. He did not ask himself why he had been captured, or throw his imagination forward in an effort to forecast his fate. With his usual shambling gait he trudged on, glancing now at the Papuans, now at the Germans, and occasionally stroking his thin whiskers in the manner of one who finds the world a great puzzle.

Presently illumination came to him. Fixing his eyes on the stout figure of the man who led the party, he muttered 'Trousers!' and thought of Mr. Grinson. Yes, to be sure, this was the extraordinary mariner who had swum ashore from a wreck without soiling his trousers, who had been saved from the cannibals' cooking pot, and had mysteriously disappeared when leading his rescuers to Mushroom Hill. His trousers were not so clean as they had been; there were black smudges on them. What would Mr. Grinson say to that?

Before Meek had got much further in his cogitations, he found himself fully occupied in keeping his footing on a rugged zigzag path that scored the surface of a steep downward slope. Then, lifting his eyes, he beheld the sea, and below, in a still cove, a vessel painted bright blue lying close inshore, and moored stem and stern. In shape she resembled the raider which had sunk theBerenisaa few weeks before, but she had had a new coat of paint. Meek saw at a glance that she had steam up, and wondered whether she was short-handed and he had been impressed to make up her complement.

A turn in the path shut the vessel from his view, but opened up another scene. On the left a number of natives were felling small trees, in charge of a European who every now and then cracked a long whip. 'I don't hold with nigger-driving!' thought Meek, shaking his head as he passed on.

The path becoming easier, he was now able to think of something more than his feet. ''Tis the Raider,' he said to himself, 'though never did I see a ship of her tonnage painted sky blue afore. Trousers is a German, without a doubt. Now what 's he think he 's going to do with me? I 'll not sign on with a German pirate--never!'

Another turn brought the cove again into view. The seaplane had just risen from the surface, and was now soaring towards the western horn. A few seconds afterwards Hahn and his party reached the sentry, who saluted, looking curiously at Meek. Hahn struck to the left, and presently, after another steep descent, came to the broad ledge on which natives were moving up and down, carrying baskets out of a shallow tunnel. The full baskets were tipped over on to the beach, then taken back to the tunnel to be refilled. In charge of the toilers was a sturdy German seaman, who had a rifle slung over his back and held in his right hand a long, evil-looking whip.

Meek's ideas were becoming clarified. As a seaman he knew what a great expenditure of coal was involved in keeping the Raider with steam up, even though the fires were banked. Clearly the Germans had been scouring the neighbourhood for men to work the seam which they had discovered in the cliff side. But he was still wondering what he had to do with all this, when he received a rude shock.

'Another batch for you, Hans,' said Hahn in German to the overseer. 'There 's an Englishman among them as you see. It's almost time to knock off now. Put him in the compound with the rest; we 'll set him at work to-morrow.'

The man grinned. Herding the new batch of prisoners into an enclosure like a sheep pen, adjacent to the mouth of the tunnel, he drew a hurdle across the entrance, and returned to superintend the last operations of the day. Hahn, meanwhile, had descended to the beach and entered the officers' shed.

Meek, of course, had not understood what Hahn had said. Without suspicion of the morrow's destiny, he found himself penned up with half a dozen black men, and felt the indignity of his position.

'Like sheep!' he muttered. 'Like sheep! What would Mr. Grinson say?'

He was no longer beset by fears of being eaten. The natives squatted apart, talking among themselves, and watching their comrades on the ledge. If Meek could have understood their speech, he would have known that they were already suspicious of Kafulu, who had quitted them a little while before. Was it for this that he had enticed them away--to carry heavy baskets of black rock from a dark fearsome hole? How long would it be before they received the firesticks promised them? Their comrades looked unhappy. How quiet they were! How they shrank away when they passed the man with the whip! Where was Flanso?

Presently a whistle sounded below. The men who had empty baskets set them down against the wall of the ledge and stood in line. Those whose baskets were full tipped their contents on to the beach, and joined their fellows. From the mouth of the tunnel streamed the niggers, blinking as they came into the light. Wearily they dragged themselves to their places in the line--silent, cowed, miserable. Among them was Flanso, and at sight of him the six natives in the pen drew in their breath. His cheeks were hollowed; his skin was no longer a glistening bronze, but the dull black of coal dust.

The German counted the men as they formed up. When he had counted twenty-eight he cracked his whip, and the limp nerveless creatures turned to the right and marched into the pen, where they flung themselves down in utter dejection. They scarcely heeded the newcomers; only Flanso started on seeing Meek, and turned upon him a look of agonised inquiry, of which the seaman was unconscious.

A few minutes later four seamen came from below, each carrying two pails. They set these down within the pen, and at a signal from Hans the natives approached one by one, and took their food in their hands. Each man had as much as his two hands would hold of a sort of thick porridge. When Meek's turn came, he shook his head.

'No, it ain't proper,' he said. 'Not for a white man. I can't do it.'

Hans knew no English, but Meek's objection was obvious. He laughed, and when the seamen returned with pails of water he said to them: 'The English swine won't eat out of his hands. Tell the quarter-master.'

They jeered at Meek, took up the empty pails and departed. When they came back for the water-pails, one of them carried a basin of porridge, a spoon, and a mug of water, which he handed to Meek with an oath. While Meek ate his supper the Germans stood around him, uttering flouts and jibes, which, being incomprehensible, did not spoil his appetite. When he had finished they left with the utensils, another man came to relieve Hans for the night, and the prisoners were left in the pen until it was almost dark. Then the sentry cracked his whip, the natives sprang to their feet and lined up, and Meek looked on in astonishment as they were marched into the tunnel, the entrance to which, when all had gone in, was closed by means of a stout wooden grating. He was left alone in the pen.

'I don't rightly know if this is what they call slavery,' he murmured, 'but it do seem so. I don't hold with it. What would Mr. Grinson say?'

The night was chilly, and Meek slept uneasily. Once he was awakened by a flash from a lantern, and saw another German staring at him curiously.

'Aha, John Bull!' said the man with a grin.

Meek turned over and went to sleep again.

When he awoke, cramped and stiff, in the morning, the natives were filing into the pen. Breakfast was a repetition of supper, and after the meal Hans appeared, and drove the men back to their work. Three of the new prisoners were sent into the tunnel to dig, the other three were made carriers. Meek was again left alone.

About ten o'clock Hahn came up, with two of his fellow officers, who stared at Meek, laughed, talked in their own language, and departed, leaving Hahn behind.

'Your, name is Meek, I zink so?' said the German.

'Ay, Ephraim Meek, that's my name.'

'So! Veil, Ephraim Meek, never I exbected to haf ze bleasure to see you again. Ze ozers--vere are zey?'

Meek looked at him for a few moments in silence. The German was not aware, then, that the other three had been with him in the native village. Slow-witted though he was, Meek had an inspiration. To tell the truth might harm his friends. He had a brief struggle with his conscience, decided for a compromise, and said:

'I don't know. They may be eat.'

'So!' Hahn looked pleased. 'Zey vere fatter as you. Ze niggers keep you to fatten, eh? Veil, Ephraim Meek, I save you, see? I bring you here. You are safe. Of course, you must make yourself useful. You shall eat, zerefore shall you vork. You shall find a pick or a basket--and zere is blenty of coal.'

Meek stroked his whiskers, looked at the German, then shook his head.

'No; I can't do it,' he said. 'Not coal.' Hahn laughed.

'You do look like a broken-kneed horse,' he said. 'Not equal to ze niggers; but you haf strength enough for zis job.'

'Not coal,' Meek repeated, in his mournful tones.

'Vy not coal? You are afraid to soil ze hands? Ach! Is coal more dirty as ze tar of your ropes? A seaman's hands! Ha! ha! You are funny man, Meek!'

Hahn laughed heartily; it seemed to him a very good joke. Meek, however, had thrust his hands into his pockets and set his lips doggedly.

'Come,' said Hahn impatiently. 'Zis is to vaste time. You shall----'

'True, it is waste time,' Meek interrupted. Speaking with a firmness which Grinson would hardly have recognised, he went on: 'I 'll dig no coal for Germans, not I. I 'll not soil my hands with it. Not for German pirates. Never in the world.'

For a few moments Hahn stared at the seaman as though he were a strange animal, a curiosity in the natural world. Then he guffawed scornfully.

'So!' he ejaculated. 'You are a lord, eh? A prince, eh? You vill not vork, eh? And you exbect to haf good food for nozink, a broken-kneed swine of a sailor. Hans,' he cried, speaking in German, 'take this hound of an Englishman and tie him to yonder stump, and leave him there until he comes to his senses. He refuses to work. Not a morsel of food, not a drop of water. See to that!'

The man grinned, laid aside his whip, came into the pen, and seized Meek by the arm. And then Meek belied his name. His mild countenance was transfigured. Wrenching his arm from the German's grasp, he doubled his fist, and let out with a drive that sent the man staggering back against the fence. Though his frame was slight, and his legs were neither shapely nor firm, he had not served a lifetime at sea without developing a certain muscular force. But his active resentment, natural as it was, was nevertheless unwise. The two Germans sprang on him together. His struggles were vain. Twisting his arms, his captors dragged him out of the pen to the tree-stump which Hahn had indicated, and in a minute had lashed him firmly to it. Hahn kicked him; the other picked up his whip and flicked the helpless prisoner, then rushed among the natives, who had halted to watch the scene, and smote right and left among them. With a parting jeer, Hahn descended the path to the beach, leaving Hans in charge.

Meek's face was towards the sea, and he had a full view of the ledge and of the cove below. The natives passed in and out of the tunnel, glistening with perspiration, urged to utmost exertion by fear of the merciless whip. They tipped their baskets over the brink of the ledge, coughing as clouds of black dust rose and enveloped them. On the beach some of the Raider's crew moved idly about. At the door of the shed Hahn stood talking to an officer, apparently the captain of the vessel; they both glanced up at the ledge, laughed, and evidently found amusement in discussing the plight of their victim. Meek noticed that there were no uniforms among the Germans, but a something indefinable in their air and gait bred the conviction that they were men of the navy.

It was not long before Meek was suffering torture from the heat and his bonds. He could not move either arms or legs; his throat was filled with coal dust; he longed for water to moisten his parched lips. Now and then the overseer passed him, grinning in his face, uttering words of mockery which affected Meek only by their tone. To him it was so much ugly bad language. He spoke no word, did not deign to beg for mercy, even though, as the hours passed, he felt that exhaustion and presently death itself must overtake him. In this time of trial it appeared that a new spirit had assumed possession of him--or rather the old spirit of British seadogs, the spirit that would scorn to show sign of flinching.

About midday Hahn came up to the ledge, and stood with arms akimbo, contemplating his prisoner.

'You see?' he said. 'You haf now enough? You vill obey?'

Meek gazed at him out of haggard eyes, but said never a word.

Hahn pointed to a man carrying a well-loaded tray into the officers' shed below.

'Blenty of food. Beer--English beer. A pint of 'alf-an'-'alf, eh? Zere is zome for you--ven you get coal. I am not hard, no. You say you vill dig, and I loose you--you shall haf a glass beer before you dig; zat is not hard? You say yes?'

Meek moved his tongue over his dry lips.

'Not for German pirates!' he muttered huskily.

'Pirates, you dog!' cried Hahn with a fierce scowl, and seemed to be about to argue the point, but changed his mind. Cursing Meek as an English fool, he went away.

During the greater part of the day Meek was partly shaded from the sun by the cliff towering behind him; but in the afternoon the rays beat upon his head, and his agony increased. With all his strength of will he resisted the faintness that threatened to overpower him. He felt that he must not give way before these black men, who passed up and down hour after hour until his bloodshot eyes were dazzled.

The time came for work to cease. Again the natives were herded into the pen, and the seamen brought them their food. The Germans jeered at the helpless prisoner as they passed him; one of them dangled a pail of water under his eyes. Then exhausted nature could endure no more. Meek's head lolled forward. Hans rushed up, looked at him, and called down to the beach that the Englishman had fainted.

'Fling a pail of water over him!' shouted Hahn. 'I am coming.'

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