"Let me stay with him, sir," cried Mark; and after a great deal of
arguing it was finally decided that Mark should stay, and selecting a
hollow beneath some jutting masses of rock where the sand lay thick, the
stowaway was helped to his natural couch, the birds were thrown down,
and after another brief argument, in which Mark declared he should feel
far more nervous in going alone along the shore than in stopping, the
major started off on his journey in search of help.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
HOW JACK DID NOT APPRECIATE A STORM.
The night was intensely dark, not one star shining, and before many
minutes had elapsed after the major's steps had died away the face of
Mark's companion was invisible, and he could not help a sensation of awe
invading his breast as he felt how absolutely alone they were, and this
made him realise more fully the feelings of the stowaway, wounded and
faint, and believing himself entirely alone in that desert place.
But the darkness seemed to trouble no one else, for after saying a few
words about its being a shame and that he could never forget it, Jimpny
fell off at once into a deep sleep, his hard breathing telling its own
tale; while Bruff and Jacko obtained a delicious couch by scratching
away some of the dry sand and making pillows of the birds.
More and more, as he listened to the breathings of his companion, Mark
began to suffer from the horror of thick darkness. For to quote the
familiar old term he could not see his hand before his face. Out by the
edge of the lagoon, where a slight ripple was phosphorescent, it might
have been possible, but there, beneath the shadow of the rocks, nothing
could be seen.
All was wonderfully still, not so much as a whisper could be heard of
night bird or animal astir. Once he thought he heard a querulous cry
far out on the shallow sea-washed shore such as a wading bird might
make, but it was not repeated, and at last he found himself listening,
with his heart beginning to beat heavily, for the terrible roaring
sound, and the more he tried not to think about it the more the thoughts
would come, till at last he felt sure that he could hear something
moving in the jungle. Then again all was still, and though he had been
in momentary expectation of hearing the awe-inspiring roar, it did not
come, and he grew a little more calm, telling himself that he had
nothing to fear, and wondering why he could not lie down and rest there
as peacefully as the animals by his side, who were sleeping happily
enough and troubling themselves not in the least about darkness or
danger.
All at once, after wondering how long it would be before the party came
from camp, and making up his mind to be very watchful so that they
should not pass him in the darkness, there was a vivid light, which
showed the sand, the glistening sea, and the distant line of breakers
quite plainly, followed at the distance of time of quite a minute by a
low muttering roar which seemed to make the air quiver and the earth
shake.
Then all was black again for a time, during which, with the sensation of
drowsiness which had been slowly coming on completely driven away, Mark
sat and watched for the next flash of lightning, and before long it
came, displaying the shapes of the clouds which overhung the sea.
It was worth watching, for anything more grand could not be conceived.
One moment everything was of a velvety blackness, then in an instant
came the flash, the sky seemed to be opened to display the glories
beyond of golden mountain, vivid blue sea, and lambent yellow plain. In
the twinkling of an eye the sky closed again, and the darkness was more
dense than before, while, as Mark sat thinking of the wonderful contrast
between lying in his bed at home in North London and being there, once
more came the deep, booming, heavy, metallic thunder.
Again a pause, with the three sleepers breathing regularly. Mark was
weary, his legs and back ached, and there was a suggestion of a blister
on one heel; but he felt no inclination now to sleep, and lay there upon
his chest listening for the dull sound of footsteps on the sand in
company with the murmur of voices.
Who would come? he asked himself. Mr Gregory and two men, or Small?
He came to the conclusion that it would be Small, and at times he almost
fancied that he heard the distant murmur of the boatswain's deep rough
voice.
Then came another flash more vivid than ever. And this time it was as
he turned in the direction where Jimpny lay sleeping. The result was
that he saw the poor fellow's swarthy panic-stricken countenance, and
the dog and the monkey snuggled up together as comfortably as they could
make themselves; and they did not even start as a tremendous peal of
thunder broke, seeming as if it would shake the rocks down above their
heads.
Then all was pitchy blackness again, and the silence by contrast was
awful.
Another flash, and while it was quivering in the air the thunder came
with one sudden instantaneous crash as if some magazine of powder had
been exploded, while after the first burst the peal rolled round and
round and slowly died away, as if it were passing along vast metallic
corridors to be emptied far away in space.
As Mark sat listening to the dying away of the thunder and watching for
the next flash, comparing the noise with that which he heard from the
jungle, and wondering why the one should be looked upon as a matter of
course while the other caused the most acute horror, he became aware of
a strange hissing sound, apparently at a great distance, but evidently
coming on rapidly. The sound increased till, from a hiss it became a
rush, then by rapid degrees a tremendous roar, and then, as if in an
instant the hurricane was upon them, the rain came down in sheets, the
sound swept by the rocks, and as the lightning flashed Mark became aware
of the fact that the air looked thick and dense and as if filled by the
spray from off the sea.
But the storm swept over from behind, so that though the water poured
down from all round the rock beneath which they were sheltered none was
driven in.
To sleep was out of the question had the watcher felt disposed, for he
was bound to confess that it was impossible for help to come to him in
the midst of such a terrific deluge. Meanwhile as the rain came down in
a veritable water-spout, hissing angrily as if a myriad of serpents were
in the air, the lightning flashed and the thunder roared so incessantly
that it became almost a continual peal.
At the best of times, and in company, the storm would have been attended
by feelings of awe; but now, comparatively speaking, alone in that
solitude with the deafening din and the terrible weird glare of the
lightning flashing through the rain, Mark could not help for the second
time that day a strange feeling of dread come upon him with chilling
force.
Just when the storm was at its worst there was a soft whining sound on
his right, and as he sat up and listened in that direction a cold nose
touched his hand, and Bruff thrust his head into his master's lap,
uttering a low snuffling sound indicative of content.
Almost at the same moment, as the thunder paused for a moment, came a
whimpering chattering from his left, and a little thin hand caught hold
of him.
"Why, Jack, old fellow, frightened?" he said, as he passed his arm round
the human-looking little animal.
"Chick, chack!" cried Jack, and accepting the invitation he huddled up
close to Mark's breast, tucking his nose under his arm, and directly
after the lad could feel that both the thin little arms were clinging to
him tightly.
"No wonder I feel a bit afraid," he said to himself, "if they wake up
and come to me for protection."
And with something of a warm glow at his heart as he felt himself
occupying the position of protector, he sat there waiting for the storm
to cease, the danger dying out of his mind, his head drooping down upon
his chest, and at last Mark and his two strange bed-fellows were fast
asleep, with the thunder roaring to them its deep-toned lullaby till it
slowly died away.
Bruff was the first to wake and begin barking loudly, for Mark to start
up in wonder, perfectly ignorant of where he was. It was as dark as
ever, but the rain had ceased, the lightning merely flashed now and
then, and there was a delicious sensation of cool freshness in the air
which came most gratefully to the senses.
"Where am I?" thought Mark, "and what does this mean?" for he had been
awakened by the dog's barking from one of those heavy dreamless sleeps
where the mind refuses to open and take in facts as quickly as do the
eyes.
The dog barked again more loudly than ever and now rushed from out of
the shelving rocks.
"Mark, ahoy! Where are you, lad?"
"Here, father, here!" he shouted, but still wondering what it meant,
till he heard the loud thud of approaching feet coming through the
darkness, and once more there was a hail.
"Where away, lad?"
Mark ought to have answered, "Three points on your port-bow," but he was
not well up in nautical terms in this, his first voyage, and so he
simply cried out, "Here!"
The result was that in a few minutes the captain, Small, and Billy
Widgeon came feeling their way into the hollow.
"Are you all right, my boy?"
"Yes, father."
"How dark it is! We were afraid we should miss you. Strike a light,
Small, and let's see."
The boatswain struck a match, and while the thin splint burned there was
time for the position of all to be observed, and Billy Widgeon
immediately placed himself alongside of Jack.
"We started to come to your help directly the major came into camp,"
said the captain, "but we were driven to take shelter till the storm was
over. I don't believe I was ever in such a downpour before."
"How long did you have to wait?" asked Mark, who felt guilty at having
been to sleep.
"Six hours at least," said the captain. "It must be very nearly
morning. How is Jimpny?"
"He has been fast asleep all the time."
"Well, then, we will not wake him," said the captain. "It is so
intensely dark that we shall have difficulty in getting him home, and it
can't be very long to-day."
It was longer than the captain thought, but he sat chatting about how
busy they had been setting up the second hut and improving the first,
besides making preparations for their home becoming permanent.
"The ship will supply us with endless useful things," he said, "even if
much of the cargo is burned. This man has again proved himself a
treasure, Mark, for it might have been a long time before we had
explored far enough to enable us to find the hull."
"When shall you go to see it, father?" asked Mark.
"To-day, my boy. We'll get back to camp and have a good breakfast and
then start. By the way, the major says you have got some capital
birds."
"Eight, and they are bigger than fowls. Curious-looking things, with a
sort of helmet on their heads."
"I think I know them," said the captain, "a sort of brush-turkey, I
expect, the maleo birds I think they are called, and they are splendid
eating. I don't think we shall starve, my lad."
"Day!" said Mark eagerly, pointing to a faint gleam away to his right.
"Yes; the first touch of dawn. I think we may prepare to go now. Get
together the birds, my lads."
Widgeon and Small obeyed, finding them already tied, and slinging them
over their shoulders.
"Now, Mark, wake up your companion," said the captain. "He ought to be
able to walk after eight hours' rest."
Jimpny started into wakefulness at a touch, and on being spoken to
answered, in a vacant wandering way, something about the fire and
wanting his spear; but the day was rapidly coming round, and the faces
of those in the shelter of the rocks growing visible.
"What's the matter?" said the stowaway suddenly. "Have they got off the
bales and boxes.--No, I--I--is that you, Mr Mark?"
"Yes, all right, Jimpny. Had a good sleep?"
"Yes, I think so. I--I'm not quite awake. Yes, I recollect now."
"Can you walk a couple of miles or so, my lad?" said the captain.
"Yes, sir; yes, I can walk," said the stowaway; "but there are some
birds here. Let me help carry the birds."
"No, no; they're all right, my lad," said Small. "You carry yourself.
That's enough for you to do. Ready, sir."
"Come along, then," said the captain; and he led the way out into the
delicious early morning with the light growing rapidly now and showing
the trees laden with moisture, whose only effect upon the sand had been
to beat it down into a firm path, so that they would have been able to
go rapidly had it not been for the weakness of the stowaway.
"Better when I've had some breakfast," he said feebly. "Been a bit bad,
sir. Soon get well, though, now."
He did not look as if he would, but there was plenty of the spirit of
determination in him, and he plodded on till they came in sight of the
grove where the huts had been set up, and there in the first beams of
the morning sun the ladies could be seen anxiously on the look-out for
the lost ones, while, to mingle matter-of-fact with sentiment, there,
from among the rocks rose up in the glorious morning the thin blue smoke
of the so-called kitchen fire, telling of what was to follow after the
welcome--to wit, a good breakfast of fruit and freshly-caught fish, with
other delicacies, perhaps, by way of a surprise.
Safely back, and the night's anxieties soon forgotten in the light of
the sun, the storm having made everything seem bright, and by comparison
peaceful and calm.
"Now, Mark," said the captain after the refreshing sensation consequent
upon a good bathe and a hearty meal, "you will be too tired to go in
search of the ship to-day."
To which Mark gave a most emphatic "No," and declared himself quite
ready for the start.
CHAPTER THIRTY.
HOW MARK SAW THE SEA-SERPENT.
"He's about the most misfortnatest chap as ever was born, Jimpny is,"
said Billy Widgeon. "He do get it bad and no mistake, allus."
For the stowaway had been at once taken up to the hospital, as the shady
spot under the cocoa-nut trees had to find him lying there looking
already quite another man. Kindly hands had been busy with water and
bandages; he was decently clothed, and the feverish haunted look had
gone out of his eyes, as he lay chatting with the sailors under a
capital shedding of palm leaves and bamboos, which had been rigged up
just in time for the storm, and which, like the other huts, had proved
fairly water-tight.
"Oh yes, Mr Mark, sir, I'm a-getting on splendid now," he said. "This
is a deal better than being aboard."
It was an understood thing that the party should start at once so as to
have a long day for the search for the ship, and they had just prepared
to start well armed for defence and to obtain fresh supplies of birds
when Mark got back to the men's hut. The captain was loth to leave the
camp, but most eager to see the ship, so it was decided that the major
should remain and Mr Gregory be the captain's companion, Billy Widgeon
and another man being appointed to the party.
"Good luck to you!" said the major. "We'll defend the camp, and have a
splendid dinner of roast turkey ready when you come back. By the way,
Mark, show them how to shoot these maleo birds. You will not run after
them again as we did."
"No; I shall know better now," he replied; and, after another glance
round at the arms, they were just setting off when an idea struck the
lad.
"I say, father," he exclaimed; "it's going to be a very hot day, and all
along by the side of those trees and rocks you get hardly a breath of
air."
"I suppose not," said the captain drily.
"And after a time the guns get very heavy to carry."
"Very," said the captain.
"And the maleo birds are regular lumps, if we shoot any."
"So I suppose, my boy. There, don't beat about the bush. We can find
our way, of course. You are tired with yesterday's exertions, so why
don't you frankly say that you would rather stay?"
"But I wouldn't rather stay, father. I only thought it would be much
pleasanter to ride."
"Ah, to be sure!" said Mr Gregory grimly, and with a sarcastic smile.
"Widgeon, run round the corner and call a couple of hansom cabs."
The men laughed and Mark flushed up.
"Couldn't we ride as well in a boat as in a hansom cab, Mr Gregory?" he
said.
"Done!" cried Gregory, giving his leg a slap. "Here, captain, we had
better take second grades. Of course: why not row round?"
"Why not, indeed?" said the captain smiling. "I daresay we can keep in
the smooth lagoon all the way; and when we cannot, we can land and
continue afoot. Did you notice the water, Mark?"
"Yes, father; it was exactly like this all the way, only, I think, the
line of breakers comes in nearer."
"Here, launch the boat, my lads," cried the captain; and she was run
down, the guns, ammunition, and provisions placed in the stern, and ten
minutes later they were all riding easily over the blue waters of the
smooth lagoon, the men bending to their oars, tiring their arms perhaps,
but saving their legs, as the gig ran easily over the bright surface.
It was a glorious ride, and they had not gone twenty yards before there
was a rush along the sands and then a plunge as Bruff came swimming
after them; while Jack, chattering loudly, came cantering down toward
the edge of the water, and then ran along the sands.
"We may as well take him in," said the captain; and giving orders for
the men to cease pulling, they waited till Bruff came alongside, Billy
Widgeon receiving orders to help him in at the bows, where he was
allowed to have his customary shake and go off like a water firework as
the drops flew in all directions, glittering in the sun.
"Now, men, give way again," said the captain.
The men obeyed rather unwillingly, and Jack, who was being left, ran
along by the edge of the water shrieking and chattering to be taken with
them, Bruff answering with a burst of barks.
"He'll soon go back," said Gregory.
Billy Widgeon looked appealingly at Mark.
"Let's have him with us, father; he'll be quiet enough."
"But I want to get on, my lad."
"Begging your pardon, sir," said Billy Widgeon respectfully; "me and my
mate here's willing, and he won't weigh heavy in the boat."
"Run in and take him," said the captain shortly; when one man backed,
the other pulled, the bows of the gig were run in to the sand; and Jack
leaped on board, chattering in duet with the dog's excited fit of
barking; after which, as they continued their way, Bruff seemed disposed
for a gambol; but Jack was decidedly stand-offish, from the fact that he
was comfortably dry, while the dog was most unpleasantly wet.
They soon settled down, however, and the journey continued, with the
shore presenting a succession of lovely pictures which could be enjoyed
from the boat far more than while trudging over the sand. Groves of
cocoa-nut trees, and beyond them the dense green of the jungle, with, as
they progressed, piled-up rocks, black, dark-brown, and glorious with
parasitical and creeping growths.
Then every here and there, through some opening where the trees were a
little lower, glimpses of the conical mountain appeared, always with the
film of vapour hanging about its point, and inviting an ascent to see
what wonders it had to show.
When weary of gazing at the shore there was a submarine forest to
inspect beneath them where the sea-weed waved and the corals and other
sea-growths stood up in the tiny valleys and gorges which the rock
displayed. Sea-anemones waved their tentacles as they looked like
tempting flowers which invited the tiny fish and crustaceans to inspect
their beauties, and at the slightest touch of one of these waving petals
fell paralysed, or were drawn into the all-absorbing mouth that took the
place of the nectary in a flower.
Every stroke of the oars, too, sent the brilliant little fish scurrying
away in shoals--fish that were gorgeous beyond description, and were to
the water what the sun-birds were to the air.
All at once the men ceased rowing and allowed the boat to stop.
"What is it?" said the captain.
Billy Widgeon, who had been looking out seaward, pointed with his oar to
something glistening on the top of the water, and then, giving a
whispered hint to his companion, the latter gave one sturdy tug at his
oar and then raised it and let the boat glide on, curving in a
semicircle toward the object on the water.
"A sea-serpent!" whispered Mark.
"Yes, and a real one," said Gregory as they all watched the creature
lying basking and evidently asleep in the hot sunshine.
Setting aside its shape, which always seems repellent, it was beautiful
in the extreme, being marked with broad bands of orange upon a purple
ground; and as it lay there on the blue water it seemed hard to believe
that it could be dangerous.
"We're not on a collecting expedition," whispered the captain, taking up
his gun; "but I should like to have that to show to people who say there
are no serpents in the sea. What's that, Gregory--ten-feet long?"
"Twelve at least. Aim at his head."
He was too late, for the captain's piece was already at his shoulder,
and as he drew trigger the charge struck the serpent about a third of
its length from the head, making it heave up out of the water, while a
convulsion ran through it, and then it lay motionless upon the surface.
"Dead!" cried Mark excitedly; and he made a dash to check Bruff, but too
late, for the dog plunged over the side and swam towards the serpent.
"Stop him, Billy!" cried Mark; and the little sailor, who had laid in
his oar and stood ready with the boat-hook, made a snatch at the dog's
collar, but did not succeed in gaffing him, and Bruff swam on.
"It's dead, Mark," said the captain; and then, more quickly than it
takes to describe it, Bruff made a snatch at the nearest portion of the
snake--its tail--caught it in his teeth, and was in the act of turning
to drag it after him back to the boat, when there was a rush in the
water, the creature heaved itself up, and quick as lightning threw
itself round the dog, and they saw its head raised and darted down at
the dog's neck.
Instantaneously as it had constricted poor Bruff, it untwined itself as
rapidly; and as in his wonder and alarm Bruff uttered a furious bark, he
unloosed his hold upon the slimy creature's tail, before he could
recover from his surprise and make a fresh attempt at seizure the
serpent had dived and was gone.
"Did you see the snake strike him?" said the captain.
"Yes; and they are terribly poisonous."
"Said to be," said the captain, "but I never knew anyone bitten."
"I have," said the mate in a low voice, "two cases; and both people
died."
"Call the dog on board," said the captain; and in obedience to his
master's call the dog swam alongside and was hauled in, to stand barking
with his paws resting on the bows after his regular shake.
They all looked hard at the dog, but his only concern seemed to be as to
where the serpent had gone; and that was very evident, for as the water
grew quiescent they could see it about eight feet below them swimming
slowly with an undulating motion in and out among the weeds and corals,
apparently none the worse for having been perforated with small-shot.
"Couldn't we get it?" said Mark, glancing at the boat-hook.
"No," said his father decisively; "and even if we could, I think we are
better without its company. Go on."
The oars dipped again and the boat glided rapidly over the calm waters,
while Mark spent his time between gazing at the beauties of the shore,
with its many changes, rocky points, and nooks, and watching Bruff, who
exhibited no signs of suffering from the venom of the serpent's bite.
It was a long pull for the men, and from time to time the captain and
mate exchanged places to give them a rest; but it was far more easy for
all than toiling over the heated sands, while, as far as they could
judge, there seemed every probability of their being able to row on as
far as they liked, the broad canal-shaped lagoon being continued right
onward--the reef of coral only varying a little by coming nearer at
times, and always acting as a barrier to break the heavy swell.
At last Mark caught sight of that for which he had long been watching,
having made out the sheltering rocks where he had slept quite early in
their journey. The sight for which he had attentively watched was a set
of specks far off upon the yellow sands, and as soon as they came in
sight he pointed them out to his father.
"Well, I see nothing," said the captain; "but wait a moment."