"Well, what is it, Dick? It looks like a number of very old boxes.
Have you come upon a pirate's hoard?--as you ought to do, you know, in
such a cunningly concealed cavern as this," exclaimed Flora, laughingly,
as she peered inquisitively at the pile that even now she could only see
very imperfectly.
"Ay," answered Dick. "You may laugh as much as you like, little girl,
but that is precisely what I have done. Of course I am not prepared to
assert positively that it is a `_pirate's_ hoard,' although it looks
uncommonly like it, I must confess; but that it is treasure, and very
valuable treasure, too, is indisputable. Do you see this pile of black
bricks here? Well, those are _gold_ bricks; and I estimate their value
at something approaching three-quarters of a million sterling."
"Three-quarters of a million?" repeated Flora, incredulously. "Oh,
Dick, you cannot mean it; you are surely joking!"
"I assure you, dear, I never spoke more seriously in my life; what I am
telling you is fact--plain, simple, indisputable, delightful _fact_!
And the gold is only part of the story."
He lifted the covers of the other cases and held a candle while she
looked at their contents, uttering exclamations of delighted amazement
as she gazed. Then he withdrew the buckskin bag from the jewel-chest,
and placed it in her hands.
"Lift that," he said simply.
"Oh, dear, how heavy!" exclaimed the girl. "I should not like to be
obliged to carry this very far. What does it contain?"
Dick plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out the handful of gems
that he had abstracted from the bag.
"It is full of pretty little stones like these," he answered, displaying
them to her astonished gaze. "Put your hand into the lucky-bag, dear,
and see what you can find there."
She did so, and pulled out a similar handful to those which glittered in
Dick's palm.
"Why, this is a perfect cave of Aladdin, Dick," she exclaimed, in
delighted astonishment. "Where did it all come from, do you think?"
"It is impossible to say with certainty," answered Leslie; "but I have
very little doubt that it was brought to this hiding-place from that old
wreck that you discovered sunk in the lagoon. At all events it has lain
here for many years--a hundred, at least, I should think; and its
original owners have long been dead and gone, leaving no trace of their
identity behind them. It is therefore now _ours_, sweetheart--our very
own; so the fact of our being cast away upon this desert island has not
been an unmitigated misfortune, after all, you see."
"No, indeed," agreed Flora, heartily. "There was a time when I
certainly so regarded it; but I do so no longer, for it has given me
you, and it has made you a rich man. Why, Dick, you must be a veritable
millionaire!"
"Yes," agreed Dick; "there cannot be much doubt about that. At least,
we are _jointly_ worth quite a million, which practically means the same
thing. And now, do you wish to adorn your pretty self with any of these
gewgaws? Because, if so, you had better make your selection, and then
we ought to be going, for I see that the sun is getting low."
"Yes, let us get away from here; it is a horrid place, notwithstanding
the fact that it is a treasure-cave. And, as to wearing any of those
things, I would very much rather not, Dick, please. They suggest to me
all sorts of dreadful ideas--scenes of violence and bloodshed, the
sacking and burning of towns, the murder of their inhabitants, and--oh
no, I could not wear any of them, thank you."
"Very well," said Dick; "then I will just make everything safe here, and
we will be off."
And, allowing Flora first to withdraw into the open air, he closed the
chests again, extinguished the candles, and, rearranging the bushes in
front of the cave so as effectually to conceal its entrance, left the
spot.
For some time after this nothing of importance occurred to vary the
monotony of existence on the island, Leslie devoting himself
energetically to the important work of providing the material for and
constructing the ways upon which he intended to build his cutter. This
heavy task absorbed rather more than two months of his time; for it was
laborious work, involving the handling of heavy masses of timber, which
could only be done with the aid of tackles and other appliances,
supplemented by the ingenuity of the highly trained sailor; moreover,
Leslie was one of those individuals who believed in the wisdom of doing
everything thoroughly well at first rather than incur the risk of being
obliged to undo much of his work and do it all over again. But at
length the ways were completed to his satisfaction; and, that done, the
job of laying the keel and setting up the ready-made frames of the
cutter in their correct respective positions and securing them there was
comparatively simple and easy. This occupied exactly a month, at the
end of which time the completed skeleton of the cutter stood revealed
upon the stocks, to Dick's supreme gratification and Flora's wonder and
admiration. And, indeed, Leslie had ample cause to be both satisfied
and delighted; for this completed skeleton displayed the form of a
remarkably handsome boat, possessed of exceptionally fine flowing lines,
with a keen entrance and a perfectly clean delivery, yet with a
splendidly powerful mid-section, and a depth of hull that promised great
weatherliness with an ample sufficiency of freeboard. It was evident
that her design had emanated from the drawing-board of a naval architect
of quite unusual ability, for her shape seemed to promise the speed of
the racer with the seaworthiness of the cruiser; indeed, as Dick was
never tired of asserting, she could not have been more perfectly
suitable for his purpose had she been specially designed for it. "Give
me another hand to keep watch and watch with me, and I'll take her round
the world!" he was wont to declare, when summing up the good points of
the craft. It was at this stage of affairs, namely, when the skeleton
framework of the cutter had been completely set up, and Leslie was
preparing to commence the task of planking-up, that, upon emerging from
the tent one morning after breakfast to wend his way down to the
shipyard, he was amazed to see a cloud of smoke rising from the now
partially dismembered hull of the brig, followed, even as he gazed
incredulously, by an outburst of flame. Rushing back to the tent for
the telescope, he brought the instrument to bear upon the craft, and
then discovered that not only was she on fire, but also that there was a
boat or canoe of some sort alongside her, and a moment later he saw a
party of natives on board her!
He stamped his foot on the ground with anger and vexation. Natives
again, and this time in the form of wanton marauders; for he had no
doubt that they had been plundering the wreck, and, having secured all
that they required or could carry away, had maliciously set fire to her.
And who were they, and where had they come from? Were they Cuffy and
Sambo, returned to the island with a party of friends for the purpose of
securing possession of some intensely coveted object--as seemed more
than probable--or were they strangers, who had come upon the island
accidentally? This last was scarcely probable, for there had been no
bad weather to blow them out to sea, and the nearest land was so far
distant that, assuming them to have come from it, they would scarcely
have adventured the passage across so wide a stretch of ocean on mere
speculation. At all events, let them be whom they might, and no matter
where they came from, they must be driven off; for the presence of a
party of strange natives upon the island constituted an intolerable
menace that must at once be put an end to.
These reflections flashed through Leslie's brain even as he lowered the
telescope from his eye, and, calling to Flora, he pointed out to her the
burning brig, saying--
"Look at that, sweetheart! The poor old _Mermaid_ is on fire, and we
are about to see the last of her. That, however, is not a matter of
very great moment, for I believe I have got out of her practically
everything that I need; the point that is of importance is that she has
been set on fire, either wilfully or accidentally, by a party of
natives, who are at this moment on board her. There are some ten or a
dozen of them, so far as I can make out, and it seems pretty clear that
they have come here on a looting expedition, organised, as likely as
not, by those fellows Sambo and Cuffy, who seized the opportunity of my
absence from the camp, in search of you, when you met with your accident
at the treasure-cave, to return to their own island, taking along with
them a few unconsidered trifles. Doubtless they have now been helping
themselves again; and, although it is unlikely that they have taken
anything of real value, I will not have them paying marauding visits to
this island. They cannot again loot the brig, it is true, for they have
set fire to her, and she must now burn until she burns herself out; but,
unless I can very effectually convince them of the folly of such a
proceeding, we shall next have a small army of savages descending upon
the island itself, for the purpose of looting the camp, which will mean
a big fight, involving heavy loss of life to them, and ending in my
death and your captivity. Such a contingency as that will not bear
thinking of; I am therefore about to go out to them and induce them, one
way or another, to clear out. In plain language, I am going to drive
them out to sea; and if harm comes to them, they will only have
themselves to thank for it. They came here with a dishonest purpose,
and they must take the consequences. You will, of course, remain here,
with Sailor to take care of you. And do not be anxious if I do not
return for a few hours; I intend to drive them so far to sea that they
will find some difficulty in returning, especially as they must be
fairly tired already with their long paddle to windward. And now
good-bye, dear; I want to get afloat in time to prevent them from
landing."
"Good-bye, Dick dear," answered Flora. "Be sure that you take the
utmost care of yourself, and do not be away any longer than is
absolutely necessary. I shall be anxious until you return."
"Ah, but that is just what you must not be," exclaimed Leslie, as he
buckled on a belt containing two fully loaded revolvers, and began to
stuff packets of ammunition into his pockets. Then, seizing a brace of
Winchester repeating rifles from a rack in the corner of the tent, he
started on a run for the beach, loading his rifle as he ran, for he saw
that the blacks were in the act of leaving the brig.
Leaping aboard the catamaran, Dick cast off and made sail with all
speed, for it looked as though the blacks meditated attempting a
landing. As soon, however, as they saw the strange craft beating off to
meet them, and making short tacks to keep between them and the beach,
they whisked the canoe round and paddled desperately for the channel,
with the catamaran in full chase.
The canoe--a big, wholesome-looking craft, propelled by ten paddles--
reached the channel first, with a lead of about three-quarters of a
mile, and at once, upon fairly reaching the open sea, headed away to the
south-east, or dead to windward, her occupants having already apparently
grasped the fact that the catamaran could only progress in the same
direction by following a zigzag course. It was Leslie's intention to
turn them, if possible, and drive them round the southern extremity of
the reef, and so to leeward, reckoning upon the fact that they must
already be considerably exhausted by their long paddle of something over
one hundred miles to windward, and believing that if he could drive them
far enough beyond the lee of the island to get them fairly into the full
run of the sea and the full strength of the trade wind on that side,
they would be in no mood or condition to paddle up to windward again; he
therefore made a long board to the eastward on clearing the channel,
hoping that on the next tack he would be able to near them sufficiently
to execute the desired manoeuvre. But, to his disgust, upon getting
into their wake, he found that he had gained upon them little or
nothing, while they continued to paddle with a vigour that spoke well
for their endurance.
Leslie now tacked again to the eastward, standing on until he could only
see the canoe when she and the catamaran topped the back of a swell
together, when he again hove about. Twenty minutes later he once more
crossed the wake of the canoe, and now found that he had done much
better, having neared her to within about eight hundred yards. He now
lashed the catamaran's helm for a moment, leaving her to steer herself,
and, picking up one of the rifles, took careful aim with it at the
flying canoe, hoping to send a bullet near enough to her to spur her
crew to renewed exertions, so tiring them out and compelling them to
take the direction in which he desired them to go. He waited a
favourable opportunity, and presently, when the canoe was hove up into
plain view, brought both sights dead on her, and pulled the trigger. A
moment later she sank into the trough and disappeared, but as she was on
the point of vanishing he distinctly saw one of her occupants leap up,
with a wild flourish of his paddle, and sink back into the bottom of the
boat. Then he tacked once more to the eastward.
Altering his tactics now, and making short boards athwart the wake of
the canoe, Leslie found that the chase was once more holding her own,
this state of things prevailing until they had worked out an offing of
about nine miles, when the catamaran again began to gain, until she had
neared the chase to within about a quarter of a mile. Meanwhile Leslie
had been carefully considering the whole situation. He was by nature a
most humane man, one who would not willingly injure a fellow-being on
any account, and, indeed, would go far out of his way to do even a total
stranger a service; but there could be no two opinions upon the matter,
he told himself--these savages _must_ be made to understand that raiding
expeditions to this particular island were too dangerous and
unprofitable a pastime to be indulged in. He therefore once more opened
fire upon them, and now in deadly earnest, his first three shots
missing, while his fourth struck the hull of the canoe and made the
splinters fly. Then he scored two more misses, followed by a hit that
extorted a shriek from one of the crew. This last shot had the desired
effect; the canoe bore up and headed away to the southward and westward
with the catamaran hot in chase.
With wind and sea abeam, the chased and the chaser now went along with
considerably accelerated speed, the catamaran, however, having very much
the best of it; and within ten minutes from the moment of bearing up
Leslie found himself closing fast upon the canoe, and less than a
hundred yards astern of her. He now considered himself near enough to
administer a final lesson to her crew of impudent marauders--who, to do
them justice, were by this time looking scared out of their wits, and
extremely sorry that they had ever molested him--so he put his helm
down, hauled his fore sheet to windward, and dumped five raking shots
into the canoe as he swept athwart her stern. Instantly the whole crew,
dropping their paddles, flung themselves down into the bottom of the
craft, and buried their heads in their arms, as though they would by
that means protect themselves from the mysterious and terrible missiles
wherewith they were being assailed; while three white spots that started
into view on the hull of the canoe told that his shots had penetrated
her close to the water-line. Leslie now held his hand, for he had no
mind to take the lives of these savages unnecessarily; but he watched
them carefully, nevertheless. And presently, one after another, eight
black heads cautiously lifted themselves above the gunwale. The eyes in
those heads stared wonderingly and apprehensively at the catamaran and
her occupant, their owners evidently holding themselves ready to duck
again at the first sign of danger; but at length, seeing that Leslie was
indisposed to further interfere with them, they seized their remaining
paddles--four only in number, the remainder having been lost overboard
in their panic--and put the canoe dead before the wind.
It was clear to Leslie that, with only four paddles left, the savages
could not possibly propel their canoe to windward and return to his
island; they must perforce go to leeward and make their way back to
their own island as best they could. He had therefore no more to fear
from them--at least for the present; and he accordingly let draw his
fore sheet and, getting way on the catamaran, tacked and bore away for
the mouth of the entrance channel, leaving his enemies to paddle before
the wind and sea, and find their way back home again if they could.
The catamaran had arrived within about six miles of the channel, and
Leslie was already debating within himself the question whether, after
all, it would not have been a wiser and more prudent thing to have put
it beyond the power of his surviving antagonists to return to their
friends, and possibly organise a very much more formidable expedition
against him, and whether, even now, it would not be advisable to go in
chase of and utterly destroy them, when his eye was attracted to a small
triangular object of brownish yellow tint that, brilliantly illuminated
by the bright sunlight, showed up strongly against the dazzling white of
the surf breaking upon the weather edge of the reef. It was in shape
like a shark's fin, but was not the same colour; it was hull down, and
was sliding along at a rapid rate past the wall of surf. It needed but
a single glance to enable Leslie to determine that it was a sail, ay,
and undoubtedly the sail of a native canoe.
Sick with the sudden thought of the possibilities suggested by the
presence of such an object just where he saw it, Dick took a hasty turn
of a rope's-end round the tiller-head and with one bound reached the
weather-shrouds, up which he shinned with an agility equalled only by
the dread that struck like a knife at his heart. In a moment he was
high enough to get a footing upon the throat of the gaff, from which
elevation he was enabled to obtain a clear view of the craft. She was
about three miles away, well to the southward of the dense column of
smoke rising from the blazing brig, and was edging away round the curved
outer margin of the reef, heading so as to pass to the southward of the
island in a westerly direction. She was too far distant, of course, to
enable Leslie to distinguish details with his unaided eye, but he could
see that she was a big craft, capable, he thought, of carrying quite
forty men, she showed a very large sail to the freshly blowing breeze,
and was skimming along at a very rapid pace.
This was as much as Leslie could make out at that distance; but it was
enough, and, groaning with dire apprehension of some dreadful evil, he
slid down the shrouds and went aft to the tiller. He could see through
the whole devilish scheme now. The gang who had set fire to the brig
were evidently only a small contingent of the expedition, and it had
been their duty to attract his attention and decoy him away from the
island while the others--headed without doubt by those scoundrels Sambo
and Cuffy--raided the camp.
That, Leslie savagely meditated, was undoubtedly what had happened.
And, meanwhile, where was Flora? What had been her fate? Had she
received sufficient warning to effect her escape to the Treasure-Cave,
which, armed with her revolvers, she could hold for hours against any
number of savages? Or had she been surprised? The thought of the
latter alternative plunged Leslie into a cold sweat, and set him to
muttering the most awful threats of vengeance. He had no room in his
mind for thought of the possible extent of irremediable damage that the
savages might have wrought in the camp; he could think of nothing but
Flora; could only hope and pray that she might have made good her
escape. The catamaran was sailing as well as ever, for there was a
strong breeze blowing, yet Leslie ground his teeth in a fever of
impatience at what he deemed her snail-like pace; for his first business
now must be to ascertain the fate of the girl he loved. The very worst
that could possibly have happened, apart from harm to her, was
comparatively unimportant. Yet, all the same, his mind once set at rest
about her, he would exact a terrible penalty from those daring
marauders; he would pursue them, ay, to their very island itself, if
need were; while, if he caught them at sea, not a man should survive to
organise another expedition against him. He felt now that he had been a
weak fool not to utterly exterminate the decoy party that he had just
left.
At length, after what to Leslie appeared an eternity of suspense, the
catamaran passed through the entrance channel and bore away for the
camp, a raking view of which was to be obtained as soon as the veiling
wall of surf was passed. To his inexpressible relief, the framework of
the cutter still stood on the stocks, apparently uninjured; and inshore
of it he could see the tent, also apparently uninjured. He had been
cherishing a sort of half hope that he would also see Flora standing on
the beach awaiting his arrival; but she was not there, and, upon
reflection, he was not greatly surprised. No doubt she was still in
hiding, and would probably not reappear until he had succeeded in making
her aware of his return and of the fact that all danger was now past.
As the catamaran sped along Leslie's keen glance roved anxiously over
the various parts of the camp as they opened out, and he presently saw
that his savage visitors had been busy with the varied items of the
cargo that he had saved from the brig and stored under canvas, for the
canvas cover was folded back, and boxes and bales were strewed here and
there upon the sward. Ah, and there was Sailor--good dog!--lying down
on the beach close to the water-line, waiting for him. But where, then,
was Flora? She could certainly not be far off, or Sailor would not be
there, lying so quietly and lazily stretched out in the sun. Leslie
seized his rifle and fired a signal shot to let the girl know that he
was at hand; but the echoes of the report pealed off the face of the
mountain and still she did not appear, nor--stranger still--did Sailor
leap to his feet with a welcoming bark. What, Dick wondered, was the
matter with the old dog? Why did he lie there so utterly motionless?
and what was that long thin shaft that looked almost as though its point
were embedded in his body? Leslie gave vent to a bitter groan; for as
he bore up to run the catamaran in upon the beach, he recognised only
too clearly that the poor dog was dead--slain by the cruel spear that
transfixed his body. And he saw, too--just in time to avoid grounding
the catamaran upon the spot--that the sand of the beach was marked with
many naked footprints, leading to and fro between the camp and a mark
upon the sand that had evidently been left there by a canoe.
Leaping ashore, and taking care not to confuse the footprints by
obliterating them with his own, Leslie examined the marks with the most
anxious care; and presently his most dreadful fears were realised, for
plainly to be distinguished here and there among the imprints of bare
feet were the prints of Flora's little shoes, blurred in places, as
though she had offered strenuous resistance to the coercion of her
captors, but quite unmistakable for all that. Dick subjected the whole
length of the track, from the water's edge to the boundary of the sward,
to a most rigid examination, and at length satisfied himself that
Flora's footprints all led in one direction, namely _toward_ the water;
and then, with a savage cry, he went to work to prepare for the pursuit.
For there could no longer be a shadow of doubt that Flora had been
carried off, and was at that moment aboard the canoe that he had seen
under sail. Oh, if he had but known--if he had but known!
His preparations were few, and did not take very long to complete. He
first dashed off to the tent, and, snatching the mattress and bedding
from his bed, rushed down to the catamaran with it, and, flinging it
down on deck, covered it with a tarpaulin. He would certainly be out
one night, if not two, and Flora would need something softer than the
bare planks to lie upon when he had rescued her. Then, returning to the
tent, he flung into a basket all the provisions that he could lay his
hands upon, together with half a dozen bottles of wine--there was no
time to go to the spring for water--and this with a small case of rifle
ammunition and a few others matters that he thought would be useful, he
also conveyed on board the catamaran. He was now ready to start; but as
yet he knew not in what direction the canoe was steering, except that
she was undoubtedly bound to the westward. Now, there were at least
three islands lying in that direction, and the canoe was probably bound
to one or the other of these; but it was of the utmost importance to
know _which_ one, for any mistake upon this point would be fatal, as it
must result in the canoe being missed altogether. So Leslie took a boat
compass that had originally belonged to the brig, and the telescope,
and, thus provided, made his way as rapidly as possible to Mermaid
Head--as he had named the most southerly point of the island--hoping and
believing that from the lofty cliffs of that headland the flying canoe
would still be in sight.
To climb to this point cost him twenty minutes of precious time,
although he did the whole distance at a run; but when he got there he
felt that the time had been well spent. For there, some ten miles away,
with the afternoon sun shining brightly upon her sail, lay the fugitive
canoe, scudding away on a due westerly course, with the wind over her
port quarter. He cast a hurried glance over that part of the ocean
where he believed the second canoe ought to be, and at length thought he
caught sight of her, but could not be certain, as the light of the sun
lay strong upon the sea in that direction. But when at length he got
into the field of his telescope the image of what he had seen, he found
that it was some object, about the size of the smaller canoe, certainly,
but floating awash. If therefore it was indeed the canoe that he had
already pursued, she had either capsized or been swamped, and there was
an end of her and her crew. He now carefully took the bearing of the
big canoe, and, this done, at once set out on his journey back to the
camp and beach.
The return journey was accomplished in about a quarter of an hour, for
it was all downhill. Then, having reached the camp, Leslie hunted up
one or two further articles that he anticipated might be useful, and,
rushing down to the catamaran, got under way and headed her for the
channel. The breeze had by this time freshened up somewhat, and the
craft heeled over under the pressure of her enormous mainsail until her
lee pontoon was buried to its gunwale, while the weather-shrouds were
strained as taut as harp-strings; but Dick only smiled grimly as he
heard the wind singing and piping through his rigging; he would scarcely
have shortened sail for a hurricane just then. The queer-looking
structure tore at racing speed across the smooth surface of the lagoon,
shearing through it with a vicious hiss along her bends and a roaring
wave under her lee bow, and so out to sea. Leslie was compelled to haul
his wind for a short distance after shooting through the channel, in
order to clear the northern extremity of the reef; but he tacked the
instant that he had room, and stood away to the southward, skirting the
outer margin of the reef as closely as he dared and gradually edging
away as the reef curved round in a westerly direction. He found himself
close in under the cliffs of Mermaid's Head about half an hour after
clearing the entrance channel, and then at once shaped a course
corresponding to the bearing of the canoe as taken from the summit of
those same cliffs.
He calculated that the canoe had secured a fifteen miles' start of him,
and, estimating as nearly as he could her speed from the glimpse that he
had caught of her as she skimmed past the reef earlier on in the day, he
doubted very much whether the speed of the catamaran exceeded that of
the canoe by more than a couple of miles in the hour, to which might be
added or subtracted a trifle according to the relative merits of the
respective helmsmen. Knowing that in a stern-chase every trifle tells,
Leslie steered as carefully as he knew how, and as one of the
catamaran's merits happened to be that she would steer almost as well
off the wind as she would on a taut bowline, he hoped that through this
he might be able to gain a little extra advantage. Furthermore, he had
a compass--which it was reasonable to suppose that the savages lacked--
and that ought to prove a further help to him.
Being now, as he believed, fairly upon the track of the fleeing canoe,
and having eaten nothing since breakfast, Leslie deemed the moment a
fitting one wherein to snatch a meal; and this he did, steering with one
hand and feeding himself with the other as he alternately eyed the
compass and looked ahead on the watch for the first glimpse of the
canoe's triangular sail, although he knew full well that several hours
must elapse ere he might hope for that. And, meanwhile, what agonies of
terror and despair would not that highly strung and gently nurtured girl
be suffering! At the mere thought Dick set his teeth and carefully
scrutinised the set of his canvas--already trimmed to a hair--to see if
there was anything he could do to get a little extra speed out of his
flying craft.
Meanwhile the sun slowly declined in the western sky, and finally sank,
in a blaze of purple and crimson and gold, beneath the horizon; the
glowing tints quickly faded to a dull purplish grey, a star suddenly
glittered in the eastern sky, and was quickly followed by another and
another, and two or three more, until the entire dome of heaven was
spangled with them, and night was upon the solitary voyager. Dick lit
the lantern that he had brought with him, and so arranged it that its
light should fall upon the compass card, lit his pipe, and set himself
to the task of endeavouring to work out a scheme for the recovery of his
sweetheart without injury to her or--what was of almost as much
importance, so far as her ultimate safety was concerned--himself.
It was a fortunate conjunction of circumstances that the savages had
chosen--doubtless for their own convenience--the time of full moon for
their raid, and night had scarcely fallen ere a brightening of the sky
in the eastern quarter proclaimed the advent of the "sweet regent of the
night." Leslie's island lay full in the wake of the rising orb; and for
nearly half an hour the catamaran scudded along within the shadow of the
peak, which stretched dark and clear-cut far over the ocean ahead of
her. Little by little the shadow shortened, however, and by-and-by the
catamaran slid over the edge of it as the gleaming disc emerged from
behind the northern edge of the peak, and flooded the whole of the sea
to the eastward with dancing streaks of glittering liquid silver.
It was about a quarter of an hour later that, as the catamaran rose upon
the back of a somewhat higher swell than usual, Leslie's quick eye
caught a momentary glimpse of a tiny white gleaming point straight
ahead; and his heart leaped with joy, for he knew that what he had seen
was the upper tip of the canoe's triangular sail. Greedily he watched
for its next appearance, rejoicing meanwhile in the knowledge that the
shadowed sides of his own sails were turned toward the flying canoe, and
that behind them again loomed up the dark background of the peak; it
would consequently need very sharp eyes--even though they should be
those of a savage--to descry them.
For twenty minutes or so following upon the first sighting of the chase
Leslie was able to catch only brief intermittent glimpses of the sail,
as one or the other of the flying craft was swept up on the crest of a
swell, but by the end of that time he had so far gained upon the canoe
that even when they both sank into the trough together he was still able
to see the upper part of the sail, while when both lifted simultaneously
he could see the whole of it, right down to the foot, and even
occasionally a glimpse of the heads of the savages; he estimated,
therefore, that he had closed the chase to within a distance of about a
mile.
Another quarter of an hour passed, at the expiration of which the canoe
was in full view, and Leslie now took the two repeating rifles with
which he had provided himself, and carefully loaded them both. But he
had no intention of opening fire at long range, the motion of both craft
was so lively that in the uncertain light of the moon accurate shooting
would only be possible at a range of about a hundred yards, or less, and
he was so fearful of the possibility of injury to Flora that he was
quite determined not to shoot until he could make absolutely sure of his
mark.
And now he suddenly became aware that he was no longer gaining nearly as
rapidly as before upon the chase; indeed there were moments when he
doubted whether he was gaining at all. For a few minutes he was puzzled
how to account for this--for the breeze was still as fresh as ever,
indeed he was rather inclined to believe that, if anything, it was
slightly freshening--but presently, as he watched the canoe, he detected
a kind of rhythmical glinting appearance on each side of her; and then
the explanation occurred to him. His presence, and the fact that he was
in pursuit, had at last been discovered by the savages, and they were
now endeavouring to increase their speed by paddling. "Well," thought
Dick, grimly, "let them paddle, if they will; at the speed at which that
canoe is travelling they will be obliged to expend a great deal of
strength to perceptibly increase it, and they _must_ tire sooner or
later. They may succeed in prolonging the chase somewhat, but I shall
catch them, all the same."
But now a new cause for anxiety on Dick's part arose, for presently--
whether in consequence of some subtle clearing of the atmosphere, or
because of the gradual change of the moon's position in the heavens--the
island that Dick knew lay somewhere ahead, and for which the canoe was
obviously steering, suddenly loomed up ahead with such startling
distinctness that Leslie feared that they must be very much nearer to it
than was actually the case; and as the time sped on without bringing him
very appreciably nearer to the chase, he became haunted by a dread lest
the fleeing savages should after all reach the shore and gain the
assistance of their friends before he could overtake them.
At length, however, he found that he was once more creeping up to the
canoe, despite the fact that her occupants were still paddling
apparently as vigorously as ever; it was obvious that, notwithstanding
appearances, their long spell of exceptional exertion was telling upon
them, and, consciously or unconsciously, they were gradually relaxing
their efforts. Slowly, and foot by foot, the catamaran crept up; and at
length Dick was convinced that not more than a bare quarter of a mile
separated the two craft. Then an idea suddenly occurred to him:
although he was still too distant to be at all willing to hazard a shot
at the occupants of the canoe, there was no particular reason why he
should not fire at the _sail_; he had with him an ample supply of
ammunition, and a few lucky shots through it might cause the sail to
split; nay, there was even the possibility that he might succeed in
bringing it down altogether. Accordingly, planting himself firmly on
the deck to leeward of the tiller, with the latter just pressing
sufficiently against his left hip to keep the catamaran going straight
and prevent her from broaching-to, he took one of the rifles in his
hand, and, determining to devote himself entirely to the effort to bring
down the sail, sighted the weapon to four hundred yards, raised it to
his shoulder, and aiming carefully at the mast of the canoe, waited
until he had got both sights dead on it, when he instantly pressed the
trigger. He was still too far distant to be able to see the result of
the shot, but he was inclined to believe that he had scored a hit
somewhere, for he distinctly heard a loud shout that seemed to carry in
it a note of alarm. Again, patiently waiting his chance, he fired; and
this time he really fancied he saw some chips fly from the mast, close
to the sling of the yard, at which point he was persistently aiming.
Encouraged by this possible success, and still more by the fact that he
was now distinctly overhauling the canoe, Leslie maintained a slow,
careful, and deliberate fire upon her, always aiming for the same spot;
and at length, at about the ninth shot, down dropped the yard into the
canoe, to his mingled surprise and gratification, the fall of the sail
eliciting a tremendous hullabaloo from the excited and astonished
savages.
In the extremity of their consternation the flying raiders seemed unable
to make up their minds what to do, and for a few minutes all was
confusion aboard the canoe, during which the catamaran swept up to her
hand over hand until the two craft were abreast, Dick taking the
precaution to keep some fifty yards of water between him and the canoe,
as he fully expected to be received with a shower of spears. Nor was he
disappointed; for, as he ranged up alongside, the natives as one man
rose to their feet, and in an instant some thirty spears were hurtling
toward him. He had probably never been much nearer death than he was at
that moment, for the spears flew all round him, one of them actually
sweeping the cap off his head; but he remained untouched. Leslie at
once raised his rifle to his shoulder, and selecting as a mark the
individual who wielded the steering-paddle--in whom he instantly
recognised the ci-devant Cuffy, with Sambo standing next to him--fired.
The savage flung up his arms, staggered for a moment, and then fell
backward overboard. Then, as the catamaran swept ahead, he caught a
glimpse of something white lying in the stern of the canoe that he knew
must be Flora's white-clothed body.
Quick as thought Leslie recharged both rifles, and hauling his wind,
shot athwart the bows of the canoe; then he tacked, and, shaping a
course that would enable him to cross the canoe's stern at a distance of
about eighty yards, hauled his fore sheet to windward, checking the way
of the catamaran and allowing her to cross quite slowly. Then he once
more raised his rifle, and pointed it at Sambo. But the tragic fate of
Cuffy had already produced its effect upon the now thoroughly terrified
savages, who by this time realised that to remain in the canoe was but
to court death. Yet what else could they do? There was but one
alternative, and that was--to jump overboard, and trust to their ability
to swim to the island that loomed ghostly in the moonlight ahead. And
this they did, one after the other--the laggards being stimulated by
another shot or two from Leslie's rifle--until the canoe, a fine big
craft of about five feet beam and forty feet long, fitted with an
outrigger, was empty of savages. Then, without troubling himself
particularly as to what was likely to become of his beaten foes, Leslie
gibed over, and shot alongside the canoe, jumping into her with the end
of a rope that he had already made fast on board the catamaran. This
rope's-end he deftly threw in the form of a half-hitch round the
quaintly carved figure-head of the canoe, taking the end aft and making
it fast round the heel of the mast, thus effectually securing the craft
to the catamaran in a manner convenient for the towage of the former.
This done, he strode aft, until he came to where Flora lay. And his
blood rose to boiling-point as he bent over her; for he saw that not
only had she been gagged, but that she had also been bound hand and foot
so cruelly tight that she must have endured hours of untold agony.