"A SAIL! A SAIL!"
Twice daily on each of the succeeding days Mr. McKay and his companions
paid a hurried visit to the treasure-cave, and at the end of that time
the bulk of the buccaneers' spoil was safely hidden in the spot chosen
for its reception.
Then, with the return of the spring tides, the work of salving the yawl
was resumed.
Slowly, yet without a hitch, the sunken craft was moved towards the
cradle which awaited its burden, till the falling off of the tides
found the yawl within ten yards of low-water mark.
"I have been thinking, pater," observed Andy one day, as they were
preparing to revisit the cave.
"Thinking what, my boy?"
"Why, every journey we make to the cavern we perform practically
empty-handed. Would it not be well to carry a supply of provisions
with us and store them in the cave? You see, if those savages should
return we might be glad of a retreat."
"Quite true, though I sincerely hope we shall not be put to such
straits. However, we'll take a few barrels of provisions and some
rifles and ammunition as well."
"And water?"
"Ay, but that's the rub. Water is heavy to carry about, and as far as
I can see there's no spring or brook within a mile of the entrance to
the cave."
"I wonder if there's water to be found above the cliffs in which lies
the mouth of the tunnel. I noticed several small streams when I
climbed the mountain, though, of course, I didn't ascend on that side.
I think I'll explore that slope as soon as possible."
"Why not to-day? Ellerton and you can do so while we are making our
midday trip back to the house."
Accordingly, instead of ascending the tunnel with Mr. McKay and
Terence, the two chums clambered up the face of the cliff. At the top
they found that the land sloped steeply towards the peak, the ground
being thickly covered with stunted bushes and occasional clumps of
palms.
"Look here, Hoppy," remarked Andy, as they sat down to recover their
breadth after their fatiguing climb. "It's all very well living on an
island when everything goes well, but we can't say that it is now.
Perhaps it's a useless fear, but I fear that there's always the
possibility of those savage brutes coming back here in overwhelming
numbers and wiping us out. That does not tend to make things
comfortable, although it may tend to liven things up."
"But they had such a terrible smashing last time," replied Ellerton.
"True! But didn't we give them a good licking when they pursued us in
their canoes? That didn't prevent them repeating their unwelcome
attentions."
"I hope you don't mean to show the white feather, Andy?"
"Not I. If there's a dust-up, I'll do my best; but, at the same time,
I shan't be sorry to get the yawl repaired and say good-bye to the
island. The treasure can wait till we charter a steamer to fetch it."
"Well, the savages haven't returned, so we can still make the best of
things," replied Ellerton cheerfully. "But we must be moving or we'll
find no water."
The two lads had not gone fifty yards ere they came across a small
stream. Andy bent down, and raising some of the water in the palm of
his hand applied it to his lips.
"Fresh as one could wish," he pronounced.
"Good! Now we'll follow its course and see if it approaches the mouth
of the cave."
The rivulet, for it was nothing more, wended its way in an almost
semicircular direction, till, at about two hundred yards from where the
lads had struck it, it emptied itself into a rift in the rocks, the
splash of its fall echoing dimly from apparently unfathomable depths.
"Look! We are not very far from that part of the cliff that overhangs
the mouth of the cave," exclaimed Ellerton. "What is to prevent us
from digging a shallow trench and conducting the water right to the
entrance to the tunnel?"
"It's fairly hard rock," objected Andy, "It will be no end of a task
cutting a new watercourse."
"Then we can use some of the cast-iron pipes we brought ashore,"
continued the young seaman, determined not to be overcome by early
difficulties. "There are more than enough to cover this distance, and
by damming the stream we can----"
"Yes, that's all very well, but if we are compelled to beat a retreat
to the cave the savages will find the pipes and so discover our
hiding-place."
"I'm afraid that will make but little difference. The trail from the
house up the mouth of the tunnel is so well defined that a blind man
might follow it. Why, whatever is the matter with you, Andy? You seem
to throw cold water on every suggestion that is made. You are not
always like that. Are you ill?"
"I believe I am," replied Andy. "At least, I do not feel quite up to
the mark."
"Then let's get back," said Ellerton, and assisting his chum over the
rough ground the pair returned to the mouth of the tunnel just as the
others were emerging.
"Any luck?" asked Mr. McKay cheerfully; then realising that his son
looked ill, he exclaimed: "What have you been doing, Andy?"
"I don't know, father. I feel absolutely rotten."
They managed to get him back to the house, his teeth chattering with
the cold; but before night he was in a high fever. His father
administered liberal doses of quinine, of which there was a plentiful
supply; but, in spite of this remedy, the lad's illness increased, and
before morning he was in a delirium, raving about the sunken yawl and
the savages. More than once he attempted to leave his bed and seize a
rifle, and it required the united efforts of Mr. McKay, Ellerton, and
Terence to hold him down.
It was an anxious time. Mr. McKay had had experience of this kind of
malady, and knew that should the patient leave his bed and take cold,
he must die.
For forty-eight hours Mr. McKay, the two lads, and Quexo kept ceaseless
watch, the mulatto being particularly attentive in his duties; but at
length the feverish state was succeeded by a profuse sweat, and Mr.
McKay knew that for the present the dreaded disaster was averted.
During the lengthy period of convalescence, someone had to be within
call of the patient, but the others resumed their outdoor occupation.
Most of the traces of the last visit of the savages had been removed;
the cliff-path leading up from the shore had been fortified by the
erection of a loop-holed palisade, so as to command the approach by
rifle-fire; while the remainder of the treasure had been brought from
the cave to the house, and the former was well provisioned in case of
emergency.
Ellerton also found time to carry out his project of conducting fresh
water into the cave. By the aid of Terence and Quexo he contrived to
lay a line of pipes from the stream down the slope to the edge of the
cliff overhanging the entrance, whence a tiny cascade fell over the
rocks within a few feet of the tunnel.
Later on, at Mr. McKay's suggestion, the line of iron pipes was
continued down the face of the cliff, though concealed by the bushes,
and carried a few yards into the tunnel. For most of that distance the
pipes were covered by the thick dust, till sufficiently far from the
entrance to enable the occupants to defend the end of the aqueduct if
necessary.
The water, on escaping, ran down the incline, till absorbed by the
pumice dust, although by degrees it cut for itself a channel close to
the sides of the tunnel. Thus a plentiful supply of the precious
liquid was assured, and at the same time no inconvenience was caused by
the waste turning the floor of the passage into a swamp.
The rainy season was shortly due, and unable, on account of Andy's
weakness, to complete the salvage of the yawl, since every available
hand was necessary, the wrecked boat was again rafted farther out into
the lagoon and allowed to sink to the bottom, so as to lie in safety
during the on-shore gales.
One morning Ellerton set out as usual to attend to the sheep, which
were in a thriving state, having so increased in numbers that new
pasture grounds had to be provided for them.
It was then blowing strongly from the north-east and almost dead on
shore. Happening to glance seaward, he was surprised to see a topsail
schooner, under close-reefed canvas, running past the island.
For a moment or so he remained gazing with astonishment at the unwonted
sight: then, recovering himself, he ran as hard as he could to the
house.
"A sail! A sail!" he exclaimed breathlessly.
[Illustration: "A SAIL! A SAIL!" HE EXCLAIMED BREATHLESSLY]
Everyone, including Andy, ran out of the house, and, as Ellerton had
announced, there was the schooner now abreast of the entrance of the
lagoon, but still keeping on her course to the south-west.
"Bring out the signal-book and the flags," ordered Mr. McKay. "And
you, Quexo, make a fire."
Ellerton soon returned with the bunting, and the Union Jack was hoisted
to the masthead. The mulatto procured some dry wood from the store,
and set it in a blaze. When well alight, he piled a quantity of damp
leaves upon the fire, causing a thick smoke.
Unfortunately the strong wind prevented the vapour from rising, the
smoke drifting over the ground in thick, suffocating columns, but to
the castaways' great joy the vessel hoisted her ensign. It was the
French tricolour.
"Hurrah!" shouted Mr. McKay. "Now lads, hand me N and C."
The next instant the N and C flags, signifying in the International
code, "_Want assistance_" were fluttering from the mast.
Through the telescope the inhabitants of McKay's Island could see the
oilskin-clad figure of the French skipper, his neatly-trimmed moustache
and imperial as correct as if he were on the boulevards of Paris,
rushing hither and thither, and giving his orders with much waving of
his arms. Then, as a string of flags ran up to her main truck, the
schooner was hove-to.
"_D.C.--Are coming to your assistance_," read Mr. McKay, referring to
his signal-book. "By Jove! that won't do, the boat will be swamped,"
for already some of the crew were manning the falls.
"Sharp there," he continued, "'_E.Y.--Do not attempt to land in your
boat_.' That will stop them; but there's no denying that they are
plucky fellows."
In obedience to the signal, the crew of the French schooner gave up
their attempt, and a lengthy interchange of signals was kept up, the
Frenchman promising to report the presence of the castaways at the
first port she touched; then, with a farewell dip of her ensign, she
flung about, and half an hour later she was lost in the haze.
"That's a load off our minds," remarked Mr. McKay. "We can reasonably
expect help in a month at the very outside."
"Unless she is blown out of her course, for a gale is freshening,"
replied Ellerton.
"Nevertheless, the chances are greatly in our favour, though at the
same time we must not cease our efforts to work out our salvation.
This gale will doubtless mark the end of the rainy season, so we can
hope to renew our efforts to salve the yawl within the next few days."
But, contrary to Mr. McKay's expectations, the weather continued bad
for nearly a month and, although a sharp look-out was kept by day and
the searchlights flashed nightly, no vessel appeared in sight.
Alternate hopes and fears did not tend to improve the spirits of the
castaways, and ere the fine weather set in their condition was
bordering on acute depression, in spite of their individual efforts to
the contrary.
At length, after a long spell of rainy weather, the sun burst forth in
all its splendour, the wind went away, and the island appeared under a
totally different aspect from that which it had shown during the last
six months. With the return of the dry season, the spirits of the
castaways likewise rose, and energetically they resumed their outdoor
labours.
The submerged yawl was, so far as they could see, little the worse for
its prolonged rest on the bed of the lagoon, and by dint of hard and
painstaking work she was moved nearer to the shore than she had been
since the disastrous day when she had been scuttled by the natives.
"It will be new moon to-morrow at about ten o'clock," announced Mr.
McKay. "Consequently there will be a fairly high tide at noon, so we
can reasonably hope for sufficient water to float the yawl to the
cradle. Everything is ready, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir," replied Ellerton. "I finished rigging the tackle this
morning, and the cradle is properly ballasted."
"Good! Then we'll make the attempt to-morrow."