Without losing an instant Leslie whipped out his knife, and with a few
strokes of its keen blade freed the unfortunate girl from her bonds;
then, without saying a word to her, or wasting time in asking questions,
he raised her tenderly in his arms, and, hauling the canoe alongside the
catamaran, carried her aboard the latter and gently laid her upon the
mattress that he had brought along with him for her especial benefit.
The girl was practically in a state of collapse from her protracted
sufferings; but by pouring a little brandy between her lips, and gently
chafing her limbs where they had been compressed by the tightly drawn
bonds, and thus restoring the arrested circulation of the blood, he at
length brought her back to a sense of her surroundings. And then, as
might have been expected, as soon as she fully realised that she had
been rescued, and that she had nothing further to fear from her late
captors, her tensely strained nerves suddenly gave way and she broke
into a passion of weeping so violent that it thoroughly alarmed Leslie,
who, poor ignorant creature, knew not what to do. Therefore, in the
extremity of his ignorance, he did the very best thing possible; that is
to say, he took her into his arms and soothed her with many tender and
loving words. And as soon as she was calm enough to eat and drink, he
placed food and wine before her, and set her a good example by eating
and drinking heartily himself, chattering trivialities all the time to
divert her mind, so far as he could, from her recent terrible adventure.
Then, when she had taken all that he could persuade her to swallow, he
insisted that she must lie down and endeavour to sleep.
The rescue of Flora having been happily effected, Leslie was naturally
anxious to get back to the island as quickly as possible; for he dreaded
lest the fearful shock that the girl had sustained, the long hours of
intense physical suffering and of even more intense mental agony that
she had endured, should seriously affect her health, and it was only on
the island itself that he could afford her the requisite care and
attention to ward off or battle with such a result. He therefore at
once hauled his wind, and, with the captured canoe in tow, headed the
catamaran on her homeward journey.
And now it was that for the first time he fully realised how strongly
the trade wind was really blowing, for, close-hauled as the catamaran
was, she felt the full strength of the breeze. It piped through her
scant rigging with the clamour of half a gale, and poured into her
canvas with a savageness of spite that threatened to tear the cloths
clean out of the bolt-ropes, while it careened the craft until the lee
gunwale was completely buried in the hissing turmoil of foaming yeast
that roared out from under her lee bow and swept away astern at a
headlong speed that made Leslie giddy to look at. And so furiously did
the over-pressed catamaran charge into the formidable seas that came
rushing at her weather bow that she took green water in on deck at every
plunge, that swept aft as far as her mast ere it poured off into the
dizzy smother to leeward, while her foresail and mainsail were streaming
with spray to half the height of their weather leeches. Leslie knew
that he was not treating his craft fairly in driving her thus recklessly
in a strong breeze against a heavy sea; but he had perfect faith in her;
he had driven every bolt and nail in her with his own hands, and was
confident that there was not a weak spot anywhere about her; and the
excitement and tension of the last few hours had wrought him into a
condition of desperate impatience that would brook nothing savouring of
delay. And, being completely dominated by this spirit of impatience, it
was a vexation to him to find that he would be unable to weather the
island without making a board to the southward, for as he stood there at
the tiller the whole island--or at least as much of it as showed above
the horizon--loomed out as a misty grey blot against the star-lit
heavens clear of the luff of his foresail.
Leaning forward, Leslie gently raised the corner of the tarpaulin with
which he had covered Flora to protect her from the moon's rays and the
drenching spray, and found, to his intense relief, that she had fallen
asleep, the sleep, probably, of complete exhaustion. Nor was he greatly
surprised at this, for, as a matter of fact, now that the frightful
danger was past and his excitement was subsiding, he also began to
experience a sensation of weariness and a desire for sleep. But this it
was of course quite impossible to indulge just then, so he lighted a
pipe instead, and gave himself up to reverie, steering the craft
mechanically, with his eye steadfastly fixed upon the luff of his
mainsail, as a sailor will, although his thoughts may be thousands of
miles away from his surroundings.
As Leslie stood there, gazing abstractedly ahead and puffing
meditatively at his pipe, he was startled back to a consciousness of his
surroundings by a violent shock that thrilled through the catamaran and
caused him to look anxiously over the stern, under the impression that
the craft had struck and run over a piece of floating wreckage. He
could see nothing, however, and was still staring and wondering when the
same thing occurred a second time; and Dick now noticed that the wind
had suddenly fallen almost calm, also that the surface of the ocean
appeared to be strangely agitated, the regular run of the sea out from
the south-east having in a moment given place to a most extraordinary
and dangerous cross-sea that seemed to be coming from all directions at
the same moment, the colliding seas meeting each other with a rush and
causing long walls of water to leap into the air to a height of from
twenty to thirty feet. These leaping walls or sheets of water were in a
moment flying into the air all round the catamaran, and falling back in
drenching showers of spray that instantly flooded her. They at once
awoke Flora, who started up in affright, crying to Dick to tell her what
fresh danger had arisen.
"Oh, nothing very serious this time," answered Leslie; "It is quite a
novel experience to me, I admit; but there can be only one possible
explanation of it, and that is that we have just sustained a shock of
earthquake. If I am right in my surmise, this extraordinary disturbance
of the sea will subside almost as rapidly as it has arisen, and that
will be an end of the whole business. But, by Jove, I am not so sure
that it will be, after all," he added in quite another tone of voice.
"Just look at that!"
And he pointed toward the island, over the peak of which there hovered a
faint glow, like the reflection upon smoke of a hidden fire.
"Why, what does that mean, Dick?" demanded Flora. "It looks as though
our volcano had become active again; but that is hardly likely, is it,
after remaining quiescent for so many years?"
"Well, as to that," answered Dick, "its long period of quiescence
constitutes no guarantee that it will not again break out into activity.
And, as a matter of fact, it certainly has done so; that ruddy,
luminous glow, hovering like a halo over the peak, can mean nothing
else. So long, however, as it is no more actively violent than it now
is, no very serious harm is likely to ensue; but, all the same, I would
very much rather it had not happened. As it is, it is a hint to us to
hurry up with our preparations and get away as quickly as may be from a
region where such happenings are possible. And now, lie down, again
dear, and get some more sleep, if you can. You need all that you can
get. And it appears that the disturbance is all over, for the sea is
smoothening down again, and here comes the wind, once more, back from
its proper quarter."
When dawn broke, Leslie found himself within some ten miles of his
island, but to leeward of it, Point Richard, its most northerly
extremity, then bearing a good two points on his weather bow; he
therefore tacked and made a board to the southward, with the object of
getting far enough to windward to weather the reef on the next tack.
Being now close enough to the island to get a distinct view of its
general outline, he scrutinised it most carefully in the endeavour to
discover whether the earthquake had seriously affected it; and it was
with some concern and anxiety that he thought he could detect certain
slight alterations of shape, here and there. Not, of course, that it
mattered to him, in the abstract, how much or how little the island had
altered in shape, provided--but this was a very big proviso--that it had
not so seriously affected his dockyard as to damage the cutter, or
caused the treasure-cave to collapse to such an extent as to obliterate
its situation, or bury the treasure beyond the possibility of recovery.
Anxious now to get back to the camp at the earliest possible moment,
Leslie was alternately watching the island and the luff of his mainsail,
impatiently waiting for the moment to arrive when it would be possible
to again tack to the eastward, when his eye was attracted by the
appearance of an object some distance to the eastward and broad on his
lee bow. Looking at it intently, it had to him the appearance of a mast
with a fragment of sail fluttering from it, and keen though he was upon
reaching camp with as little delay as might be, it was impossible for
him, as a sailor, to pass such an object without examination. With a
little stamp of impatience, therefore, he put up his helm and bore away
for it.
It was not very far distant--a couple of miles, perhaps: certainly not
more; and to reach it therefore involved no very serious loss of time.
It was not long ere he was close enough to it to enable him to make out
that it was a raft of some sort, rigged with a boat's oar, or a small
spar, for a mast, upon which was hoisted the remains of what had once
been a boat's lug sail. He noticed also that it was occupied by a
little group of recumbent figures, whose attitudes were grimly
suggestive of an ocean tragedy. They were mostly lying prone upon the
raft, with the water washing round them; but one figure was seated with
his back supported against the little mast. They were evidently all
insensible, for though the catamaran was by this time quite close to
them there was no attempt made by any one of them to signal her; there
was nothing indeed to indicate that life still lingered upon that
forlorn little ocean waif.
Taking room for the manoeuvre, Leslie tacked at the right moment, and,
with fore sheet to windward, slid gradually and with steadily decreasing
way up to the lee side of the raft, which he reached just as, with the
main sheet eased full off, the catamaran lost way altogether. And as he
glided up alongside the helplessly drifting fabric there came to his
nostrils a whiff of poisoned air that told its own tale only too
clearly. Still, although death was so obviously present, it was
possible that life might be there too; so taking a rope's-end with him
he sprang on to the little structure, and secured the two craft
together. Then he rapidly examined the motionless figures, one after
the other. There were five of them altogether, and of these five, three
were undoubtedly dead; but in the case of the other two it seemed just
possible that life was not quite extinct, and he therefore hurriedly
removed them both to the catamaran, and as hurriedly cast the raft
adrift again. Luckily Flora was once more asleep, and so escaped the
dreadful sight presented by that little platform of broken planking and
odds and ends of splintered timber, with its ghastly load, the empty
water-breaker and entire absence of food on the raft telling at a glance
the whole history of the tragedy.
The moment that the catamaran was again clear of the raft, Leslie turned
his attention to the two pitifully emaciated and rag-clad objects that
he had rescued, and commenced operations by administering a small
quantity of brandy to each; his efforts being eventually rewarded by the
discovery of signs of returning animation in both. Thus encouraged, he
assiduously persevered, and presently one of them opened his eyes, and,
staring vacantly about him, huskily murmured: "O God, have pity, and
give me water--_water_!"
Leslie thereupon cautiously administered a further small quantity of the
liquid, which the man eagerly swallowed, and at once asked for more; but
gently laying him down on his back, with the promise that he should have
more a little later on, Dick next turned his attention to the second
man, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing him also restored to
consciousness. Having achieved this much of success, Leslie now aroused
Flora, and, briefly explaining to her the circumstances of the case,
turned the two castaways over to her care, with instructions to give
them, alternately and at brief intervals, small quantities of drink and
food, while he devoted his attention to the catamaran and the task of
navigating her back into the harbour. Meanwhile the little raft, with
her ghastly cargo, went driving away to the northward and westward
before the wind and the sea, and was soon lost to sight.
As the catamaran skirted close along the weather side of the reef,
Leslie noticed that the brig had burnt herself out; for there was not
the faintest whiff of smoke rising from the spot where she had lain. On
the other hand, a thin pennant of light yellowish brown vapour was
trailing away to leeward from the summit of the peak, showing that the
eruption up there was still in progress. Dick was much comforted,
however, to find that, even now, when he was so close in with the land,
he could detect no evidences of disturbance by the earthquake on the
southern slope of the mountain; and he began to cherish the hope that he
would find the dockyard and camp uninjured. And this hope became a
practical certainty when, upon passing through the entrance channel, the
camp came into view, and he beheld not only the tent still standing as
he had left it, but the framework of the cutter erect upon the stocks
and apparently uninjured. Twenty minutes later the catamaran slid into
her usual berth and gently grounded upon the sandy beach.
First assisting Flora to step ashore, and tenderly supporting her to the
tent--to which he welcomed her back with a loving embrace--Dick next
conducted the two rescued men to the hut that had originally been built
and occupied by Sambo and Cuffy, into which he inducted them, with the
intimation that they were to regard it as their future quarters. They
were by this time so far recovered that both could walk, with a little
assistance. Leslie therefore thought that he might now venture to give
them a light meal, with a reasonable quantity of liquid to wash it down;
and, this done, he recommended them to lie down and sleep for a while
after they had refreshed themselves, and so left them.
As he walked from the hut down to the spot that he dignified with the
name of The Dockyard, Leslie ruefully noted that the savages had played
havoc with his belongings in their hurried search for booty; but as the
havoc appeared to consist in a general capsizal of everything rather
than in actual damage, and as the few matters that they had appropriated
still remained aboard the captured canoe, he consoled himself with the
assurance that, after all, there was not very much to worry about--
excepting, of course, the terror and suffering to which Flora had been
exposed, and the killing of poor Sailor, both of which filled him with
bitter grief and anger.
As he passed on his way he detected evidences here and there of the fact
that the island had not escaped altogether unscathed from the effects of
the earthquake, small cracks in the ground showing here and there that
had not heretofore existed; and when he reached the dockyard he found
that two or three of his shores had been shaken down, leaving the cutter
somewhat precariously supported; but to his infinite relief no actual
damage had been done, and a couple of hours of hard work sufficed to put
everything quite right once more. Then he returned to the tent, and,
finding that Flora was lying down, he seized the opportunity to bury the
body of the faithful dog out of her sight ere lying down himself to
snatch an hour or two of much-needed sleep.
When he awoke, which he did of his own accord, the afternoon was well
advanced; and upon emerging from the tent he discovered that not only
was Flora up and stirring, but that she had routed out from their ample
store of clothing a couple of suits to replace the rags in which the two
castaways had been garbed when rescued; and that these two individuals,
having washed and dressed, were now sitting in the sun, smoking--Flora
having also supplied them with pipes and tobacco--and looking about them
with mingled curiosity and surprise. As he approached them, with the
view of eliciting from them the particulars of their story, they rose
somewhat unsteadily to their feet, and while one lifted his cap in
salute the other took his off altogether and lifted his finger to his
forehead as he gave an awkward kick out astern with one leg, in true
shellback style. That they were both English Dick had already
ascertained; he therefore did not go through the formality of inquiring
their nationality, but at once addressed them in his and their own
language.
"Well, lads," he exclaimed cheerfully, "I hope you are feeling better?"
"Thank you, sir," answered the one who had lifted his cap, "yes, we are
beginning to pull round again all right. And I am glad to have this
early opportunity to thank you on behalf of myself and the bo'sun here
for the service you've done us in taking us off the raft and bringing us
ashore here. You've saved our lives, sir; there's no mistake about
that, and we're both very much obliged to you, I'm sure."
"Ay, ay; right ye are, Mr Nicholls; very much obliged indeed we are;
and that's puttin' the matter in a nutshell," supplemented the second
man, with another sea-scrape of his foot.
Leslie was agreeably surprised at these men's appearance, now that they
had removed from their persons the most repulsive evidences of their
late misfortune, for whereas when he had taken them off the raft they
were a pair of perfect scarecrows, mere skeletons, dirty, and in
rags, they now--although still of course thin, haggard, and
cadaverous-looking--wore the semblance of thoroughly honest,
trustworthy, and respectable seamen. One of them, indeed, the younger
of the two, who had been addressed by his companion as "Mr Nicholls,"
presented the appearance of a quite exceptionally smart young sailor,
and Leslie at once put him down for--what he presently proved to be--the
second mate of the lost ship. As for the other, Nicholls had spoken of
him as "the bo'sun;" and he looked it--an elderly man, of burly build no
doubt when in health, straightforward and honest as the day, and a prime
seaman; "every finger a fish-hook, and every hair a ropeyarn." Leslie
felt delighted beyond measure at the acquisition of two such invaluable
assistants as these men would certainly prove so soon as they had
recovered their lost strength.
"Oh, that is all right," said Dick, in response to their expressions of
thanks; "I am, of course, very glad that it has fallen to my lot to
render you such a service. And it was no doubt a lucky accident for you
that I happened to be cruising outside the reef to-day. But for that
circumstance I should certainly not have seen the raft, and in that case
I am afraid there would have been no hope for you, for the raft would
have passed some miles to the westward of the island, and your chance of
being picked up would in that case have been remote in the extreme, for
although I have now been here for some months I have not sighted a
single sail since I arrived here. And now, if you have no objection, I
should like to hear your yarn."
"Well, sir," answered Nicholls, "I don't know that there's very much to
tell; but, such as it is, you're welcome to it. We belonged to a very
tidy little barque--the _Wanderer_, of Liverpool--and sailed from
Otago--which, as I suppose you know, sir, is in New Zealand--for London
on--what's to-day?"
Leslie gave him the date.
"The dickens it is," ejaculated Nicholls; "then I've lost a day of my
reckoning! Must have been a day longer on that raft than I thought.
Well, anyhow, if what you say, sir, be true--and I'm sure I don't doubt
your word--it's just a month ago, this blessed day, that we sailed from
Otago, bound, as I say, for London, with orders to call at Callao on our
way home. We sailed with a regular westerly roarer astern of us, to
which the `old man'--I mean the capt'n, sir,--showed every rag that
would draw, up to to'gallant stunsails, and the skipper kept well to the
south'ard, hoping to make all the easting that he wanted out of that
westerly wind. And I reckon that he did, too, for we carried that same
breeze with us to longitude 115 degrees, when we hauled up to the
nor'ard and east'ard. Then about two days later--wasn't it, Bob?"
"Ay," answered the boatswain, who seemed to know exactly to what
Nicholls was referring, "just two days a'terwards, Mr Nicholls."
"Yes," resumed Nicholls, "two days later we got a shift of wind, the
breeze coming out at about east-north-east, and we broke off to about
due north, which was disappointing, as we hoped to pick up the
south-east trades just where we then were. But we held all on, hoping
that the wind would gradually haul round. It didn't, however; on the
contrary, it came on to blow hard and heavy, until we were hove-to under
close-reefed topsails, and the sea--well _I_ never saw anything like it
in all my born days; the _Wanderer_ was mostly a very comfortable little
hooker when she was hove-to, but this time she rolled so frightfully--
being in light trim, you must understand, sir--that I, for one, expected
any minute to see her roll her masts over the side. And after we had
been hove-to for twenty-six hours she scared the skipper so badly that
he decided to up-helm and try whether she wouldn't do better at running
before it. Well, we watched for a `smooth,' but it didn't seem to come;
and then, while we were still waiting, a sea came bearing down upon us
that looked as big as a mountain. The skipper sang out for all hands to
hold on for their lives, and some of us managed to get a grip, but
others didn't. Down it came upon us, looking like a wall that was
toppling over, and the next second it was aboard of us! I had took to
the mizzen rigging, and was about ten feet above the level of the rail
when that sea came aboard, and I tell you, sir--what I'm saying is the
petrified truth--for half a minute that barque was so completely buried
that there wasn't an inch of her hull to be seen, from stem to starn;
nothing but her three masts standing up out of a boiling smother of
foam. I made up my mind that the poor old hooker was done for, that
she'd never come up again. But she did, at last, with every inch of
bulwarks gone, fore and aft, the cook's galley swept away, every one of
our boats smashed, and five of the hands missing--one of them being the
chief mate.
"Well, as soon as she had cleared herself, the skipper sang out for the
carpenter to sound the well; and when Chips drew up the rod he reported
four feet of water in the hold! Of course all hands went at once to the
pumps; but by the time that we'd been working at them for an hour we
found it was no good, the water was gaining upon us hand over hand, and
the craft was settling down under our feet. So we knocked off pumping
and, our boats being all gone, went to work to put a raft together.
But, our decks having been swept clean of everything, we hadn't much
stuff left to work up, and it took us a couple of hours to knock
together the few odds and ends that you took us off of this morning. We
hadn't stuff to make anything bigger, and we hadn't the time, even if
we'd had the stuff, for by the time that we had finished our raft the
poor old hooker had settled so low in the water that we expected her to
sink under us any minute.
"Then we got to work to scrape together such provisions as we could lay
our hands on; but by this time the lazarette was flooded and not to be
got at, while everything in the steward's pantry was spoiled, the pantry
having been swamped by the sea that had broken aboard and done all the
mischief. But it was the grub from the pantry, or nothing; so we took
it--and there wasn't very much of it either--and also a small breaker of
fresh water that the steward managed to fill for us, and then it was
high time for us to be off.
"It wasn't a very difficult matter to launch the raft, for by this time
every sea that came along swept over our decks, and the job for us was
to avoid being washed overboard. Well, we got afloat; but, as luck
would have it, a heavy sea swept over us just as we were launching and
made a clean sweep of all the provisions that we'd got together, except
one small parcel, and of course, once afloat, it was impossible for us
to get back to the barque, even if there had been any use in our going
back--which there wasn't.
"We had managed to find one oar and the jolly-boat's lug sail, and this
we rigged up--as much by way of a signal as anything else, for of course
we could do nothing but drive dead before the wind. And we hadn't left
the barque above ten minutes when down she went, stern foremost, and
there we were left adrift and as helpless as a lot of babies in that
raging sea. There were ten of us altogether, and a pretty tight fit we
found it on that bit of a raft, all awash as she was. It was within
half an hour of sunset when we left the barque, and as darkness settled
down upon us it came on to blow harder than ever, while the seas washed
us to that extent that we could do nothing but hold on like grim death.
"The misery and the horror of that first night on the raft won't bear
talking about; and if they would it would need a more clever man than I
am to describe 'em. All I can remember is that I sat there the whole
night through, in the black darkness, holding on for my life with both
hands, with the sea washing over me, sometimes up to my neck, speaking
to nobody, and nobody speaking to me.
"The gale broke about an hour before dawn; and when the sun rose he
showed us a sky full of clouds that looked like tattered bunting of
every imaginable colour one could think of, all scurrying across the sky
in a westerly direction. And then we found that the wind had veered
round and was coming out from about east-south-east. As soon as it was
light enough to make out things, I took a look round to see how the rest
of us had weathered out the night; and I tell you, sir, it nearly broke
my heart to find that we mustered three less than we were when we left
the barque, the poor old skipper being one of the missing. They had
been washed off and drowned during the night; at least that's how I
accounted for their loss.
"Then we opened our little stock of provisions--consisting mostly of
cabin biscuit--that we had wrapped up in a bit of tarpaulin, intending
to put a bit of food into ourselves and so get a little strength and
encouragement. But when we came to open the bundle we found it full of
salt water--and no wonder, seeing what clean breaches the sea had been
making over us all night--so that our bread was just reduced to pulp,
and no more fit to eat than if it was so much putty. And our water was
pretty nearly as bad; the sea had got at it, too, and made it that
brackish that it tasted more like physic than water. However, we took a
drink all round, and tried to persuade one another that it wouldn't be
so very long before something would come along and pick us up.
"The sea took a long time to quiet down; but by sunset it had smoothened
so far that it only just kept the raft awash and the water up to our
waists as we sat; so, as we had by this time got pretty well used to
being wet through, we were feeling fairly comfortable, or should have
been if only we had had a morsel of something to stay our hunger, and a
drain of sweet water to quench our thirst--for we soon found that the
more water we drank out of our breaker, the thirstier we grew.
"That night the steward went crazy, and started singing. First of all
he began with the sort of songs that a sailor-man sings on the
forecastle during the second dog-watch on a fine night; and from that he
branched off into hymns. Then he fancied that he was at home once more,
talking to his wife and the chicks, and it made my heart fairly bleed to
listen to him. Then, after he had been yarning away in that style for
more than an hour, he quieted down, and I thought he was getting better.
But when daylight broke he was gone--slipped quietly overboard during
the night, I reckoned.
"The next day was a terrible one. Our sufferings from hunger and thirst
were awful; and about midday one of the men--an A.B. named Tom Bridges--
went raving mad, and swore that he didn't intend to starve any more;
said that one of us must die for the good of the rest; and presently set
upon me, saying that I was in better condition than any of the rest, and
that therefore I was the proper one to be sacrificed. He was a big,
powerful man, and proved a match for the other five of us. We must have
fought for a good twenty minutes, I should think, when he suddenly took
hold of me round the waist and, lifting me off my feet as easily as if I
was a baby, made to jump overboard with me in his arms. But another man
tripped him up; and although we both went overboard, poor Tom struck his
head as he fell, and must have been stunned, for I felt his grip slacken
as we struck the water, and presently I managed to free myself and swim
to the raft. But Tom went down like a stone, and we never saw him
again.
"That adventure just about finished us all, I think; I know it finished
me, for it completely took out of me what little strength I had left,
and although I remember it falling dark that night, and also have a
confused recollection of getting up once or twice during the next day to
take a look round, I know nothing of what happened after that until I
came back to my senses on the deck of that queer-looking craft of yours,
and tasted the brandy that you were trying to pour down my throat."
"Well," remarked Leslie, "it has been a terrible adventure for you both,
and one that you will doubtless remember for the remainder of your
lives. But your time of suffering is now past, and what you have to do
is to get well and strong as soon as possible. Yet, even here, although
you run scant risk of perishing of hunger or thirst, and are in as
little danger of drowning, there is another peril, namely, that of
savages, to which we are all equally exposed; although I rather hope
that certain action that I felt it incumbent upon me to take yesterday
and last night may have averted it for a time at least. But perhaps,
having heard your story, I had better tell you mine, and you will then
understand our precise position--yours as well as Miss Trevor's and my
own."
To this speech Nicholls replied in effect that, having already seen a
great deal to excite his surprise and curiosity, it would afford him
much pleasure to listen to anything in the way of explanation that
Leslie might be pleased to tell them; a remark that Simpson cordially
but briefly endorsed by adding--
"Same here, sir."
Now, it has been said that no man can do two things well if he attempts
to do them both at one and the same time; but Leslie proved himself an
exception to the rule. For he not only listened attentively to
Nicholls' story of the loss of the _Wanderer_, but he at the same time
succeeded in accomplishing the much more difficult feat of effecting a
very careful appraisement of the characters of the two men whom he had
rescued from the raft. And the result was to him thoroughly
satisfactory; for ere Nicholls had arrived at the end of his yarn,
Leslie had come to the conclusion that his new companions were
thoroughly genuine, honest, steady, and straightforward men, upon whom
he could absolutely rely, and whom he could take into his confidence
with perfect safety. He therefore unhesitatingly told them the whole
history of the loss of the _Golden Fleece_, and what had followed it, up
to the moment of their meeting, judiciously reserving, however, for the
present, all mention of the discovery of the treasure.
"Now," he said, by way of conclusion, "you see exactly how we are all
situated here. I tell you frankly that I do not believe there is very
much prospect of your getting away from here until the cutter is
finished; although, should an opportunity occur, you will of course be
at full liberty to leave the island, if you so please. But, so far as
Miss Trevor and I are concerned, we shall now, in any case, stay here
until the cutter is ready, and sail at least part of the way home in
her. Now, it is for you to say whether you will throw in your lot with
us, and remain until we are ready to go; or whether you will avail
yourselves of any prior opportunity that may occur for you to escape.
Whichever way you may decide, there is an ample supply of provisions and
clothing--in fact, all the actual necessaries of life--for us all, to a
due share of which you will be most heartily welcome. But, since I have
made free use of the brig and her cargo, I shall of course feel myself
bound to make good the loss to the underwriters upon my return to
England; and I presume, therefore, that so long as you may remain upon
the island, you will be willing to assist me in my work of completing
the cutter, in return for your subsistence. Am I right in this
assumption?"
"You certainly are, so far as I'm concerned, Mr Leslie," answered
Nicholls. "I am not the man to loaf about here in idleness, and watch a
gentleman like yourself working hard all day. I'd a precious sight
sooner be doing a good honest day's work for my grub, than take all and
give nothing in return. What say you, Bob?"
"Same here, Mr Nicholls--_and_ Mr Leslie," answered Simpson.
"Very well," said Leslie; "then we will consider that matter as settled.
You will not, of course, be in a fit state to turn-to for a few days;
but as soon as you feel strong enough, let me know, and I shall be more
than glad to have your assistance. Meanwhile, if there is anything that
you require, you have only to say what it is, and if the resources of
the island are equal to it, your wants shall be supplied."
It appeared, however, that all their immediate requirements had been
met; so Leslie returned to the tent, where he found Flora awaiting him.
"Well, little woman," he remarked, greeting her genially, "have you had
a good rest? Upon my word you are looking but little, if anything, the
worse for your adventure. How are you feeling?"
"As well as ever, thank you, Dick," she replied, "excepting that my poor
wrists and ankles still feel rather sore from the pressure of the ropes
with which those wretches bound me. I have had a good rest, and
although my sleep was disturbed at the outset by terrifying dreams, they
passed off at last, and now I feel, as you say, really none the worse.
But oh, Dick, it was an awful experience, and I expect I shall often see
those dreadful savages' faces in my sleep for some time to come."
"Yes," assented Dick, "I fear you will. But you must try as hard as you
can to forget your terror, dear; remembering that we are now two good
men stronger than we were before, and that after the lesson I have given
the natives they are not _very_ likely to repeat their experiment in a
hurry. And now, if you think you can bear to talk about it, I should
like to learn just what happened after I left you."
"Well," said Flora, "there really is not very much to tell. I stood on
the beach and watched you until you passed out through the channel, and
disappeared behind the wall of surf; and then, accompanied by dear old
Sailor--by the way, Dick, what has become of the dear old dog? I have
not seen him since I returned; and I am afraid the poor fellow was
hurt."
"Sweetheart," answered Dick, gently, "he did the utmost that a faithful
friend can do; he died in your defence, and I have buried him."
"Dear old Sailor!" exclaimed the girl, the tears springing to her eyes
at the intelligence of his death, "he fought bravely. I shall never
forget him." She sat silent for a while, with her handkerchief to her
eyes, and presently resumed--
"As I was saying, I walked back toward the tent, Sailor, as usual,
keeping close beside me. I was within half a dozen yards of the tent
when the dog suddenly stopped dead, growling savagely. `Why, what is
the matter, Sailor?' I said, patting him. He looked up at me for an
instant, still growling, and his coat bristling with anger; then, with a
quick yelp of fury he dashed off and darted behind the tent, and the
next instant there was a dreadful outcry, mingled with the fierce
barking and snarling of the dog. I was absolutely petrified with
terror, for you were away, and already far beyond the reach of any sound
or signal that I could make, while I was left alone on the island with I
knew not who or what. Then the thought came to me to make a dash for
the tent, and get the pistol that you gave me to practise with; but
before I could carry out my idea, a perfect swarm of blacks, headed by
Sambo and Cuffy, rushed out from behind the tent--with Sailor in the
midst of them, fighting furiously; and in an instant I turned and ran
for the beach, with them in pursuit.
"I have not the faintest idea what I intended to do; my one thought was
to keep out of their clutches as long as possible; but, of course, I was
almost instantly overtaken and seized, and my hands held behind me by
Sambo, while Cuffy stood before me threatening me with a spear. Then,
while some of the natives went off to the stack of stores and began to
`overhaul' them, as you call it, others disappeared in the direction of
Mermaid Head.
"It was a horrible sensation, and made me deadly sick to feel myself
actually in the clutches of those dreadful natives, and to see the look
in Cuffy's eyes as he stood before me brandishing his spear in my face;
but worse was yet to come, for presently one of the wretches came up
with some pieces of rope in his hand, and then they bound my hands and
feet together, rendering me absolutely helpless, as you found me.
"I suppose it would be about a quarter of an hour after this--although
it seemed very much longer--when the second party of natives returned
with a canoe, into which they flung me most unceremoniously; and then
they all went off together, leaving me alone and so tightly bound that I
was soon enduring agonies of torment. I bore the pain for perhaps an
hour, and then I must have swooned, for I knew no more until I recovered
my senses in your dear arms, and knew that you had saved me. Oh,
Dick--"
Then she suddenly broke down again, and sobbed so violently and clung to
Leslie in such a frantic paroxysm of terror that poor Dick became
thoroughly alarmed, and, in his distraction, could do nothing but soothe
her as he would a frightened child. This simple treatment, however,
sufficed, for the sobs gradually diminished in violence, and at length
ceased altogether; and presently Flora arose, declaring that she was
herself again, and denouncing herself as a poor, weak, silly little
mortal, who ought to be ashamed of herself.