THE SEA SPIDER
I was occupied one midday, as usual, scanning the horizon from the top
of the cliff near the beacon in search of a passing vessel, when I
noticed Moira urging her canoe toward the shore at a rapid pace. In the
wake of the canoe a disturbance of the water betokened the presence of
some denizen of the deep, and Moira's action in making for the rocks at
top speed betrayed her terror of whatever it was that followed her.
Hastily descending the cliff I ran to her assistance, when I saw Moira
spring on to a flat rock upon which she generally landed from her
canoe. At the same moment a snaky tentacle rose out of the sea and
caught her, while other tentacles quickly enveloped her. The monster
now dragged its shiny bulk upon the rock, and except in a nightmare
surely no man had beheld such a creature before. It resembled a
monstrous spider, but out of all proportion to anything in Nature. Its
eyes, like white saucers with jet black centres, stared from its flat
head, and the tentacles with which it seized its prey were provided
with suckers to hold what they fastened upon.
Even in her extremity Moira thought more of my safety than her own. "Go
back!" she cried. "You cannot help me. The sea devil has the strength
of ten men."
Not heeding her warning I continued to advance to her assistance but as
I approached the sea-spider drew back into its native element, and
presently sank with its prey beneath the waves.
In my first feeling of dismay for what had happened, I could not
believe that Moira had been taken from me, and as I remembered my
ingratitude to her and thought of how surly I had become, absorbed in
my own trouble, I threw myself down upon the rocks in an agony of
remorse. Alas, poor Moira! Faithful friend! True heart, and loyal to
death! A thousand times I reproached myself with my neglect of her,
but my regrets were unavailing, and my repentance came too late.
It now became necessary if I would live to provide myself with food,
and in this enforced occupation I obtained some relief from the
dejection which had formerly obsessed me. I found no difficulty in
procuring fish, and I quickly became expert with Moira's bow and
arrows. Salt, also, I gathered from the rocks, and some roots which
Moira had shown me served as vegetables. Of water I had an abundance
from a fresh-water lagoon near by. So that I lacked nothing for my
support. But although my body was nourished, my mind became so
oppressed by solitude that, at times, I even thought of returning to
the blacks and conforming to their ways, and had it not been that I
knew them to be cannibals I might have spent the remainder of my life
among them, so intense had become my longing to meet with others of my
kind.
Another cause for anxiety now made me consider whether I had not better
move my habitation to some cave along the coast. Within a week from the
carrying off of Moira by the sea-spider, I began to miss supplies of
fish and flesh which I kept in the storehouse cave. Strange sounds,
also, as of some heavy body dragging itself over the rocks kept me
awake at night, and filled me with alarm. Could it be that the monster
was once more paying its visits to the cave? The sounds continued
during the night, but with the break of dawn they ceased.
One morning, however, when I had resolved upon moving my camp, on
mounting the cliff I sighted a vessel which I recognized as the
"Endraght", coming up the coast from the south. In a frenzy of
excitement I lighted the beacon and taking a silk handkerchief from my
neck I waved it to attract attention. A dread overpowered me that my
signals might not be observed, and had the ship passed without seeing
me I verily believe I would have cast myself from the cliff on which I
stood to certain death upon the rocks below. But now I saw that the
vessel was heading for the shore, and presently a boat put off for the
beach. Carried away by the thought of my salvation, I waded knee deep
to meet my comrades, and climbing into the boat I soon found myself on
board the "Endraght".
So wild-looking and unkempt had I become that at first my shipmates did
not know me, but when they recognized me I was given a hearty welcome.
"Of a truth, Peter," said Hartog, smiling at my sorry appearance, "I
have small wonder the cannibals did not make a meal off one so skinny."
And, indeed, the hard life I had led on the island had reduced me to a
bag of bones. But when I had washed and trimmed my hair and after I had
clothed myself from my own sea-chest Hartog declared me fit to become,
once more, his secretary.
I sat late that night with my comrades, to whom I recounted my
adventures, and when I reflected upon the dangers I had passed I could
scarcely contain my joy at my rescue from a fate worse than death.