"She ran into the hut," said his mother.
As the captain's wife spoke Mrs O'Halloran reappeared, laden with a bag
and a couple of bottles.
"You must help me carry all this," she said. "We may be obliged to take
to the jungle, and this will keep us from starving."
Mark saw the wisdom of the proceeding, and the load was shared as they
went on through the loose sand, the lad's heart sinking at the thought
of Jimpny's words, and he wondered what would be the result if it should
prove to be true that the pirates had landed and attacked the party in
Crater Bay.
He kept his thoughts to himself as he pressed on through the loose sand,
giving an occasional glance through the trees to see what course the
Malays were pursuing, and seeing clearly that their vessels were coming
steadily along, evidently with a pleasant wind, while among the trees
there was not a breath of air, and as they tramped on through the loose
sand he could see that his companions were beginning to suffer.
There was nothing to be done, however, but to keep on and try to get
round to Crater Bay. The stowaway began once about it being impossible
that day, and Mark felt that it would be a tremendous task; but even if
they did not, there was the prospect of their getting on past several of
the points and well out of the sight of the Malays, so that if they only
got far enough to encounter the boat returning to camp they could warn
the occupants and then take to the woods.
Mark explained all this to comfort his companions as they tramped
wearily on, and he had been successful in his efforts, giving comfort to
his own mind as well, when it was swept away at a stroke, for Jimpny
crept close up to him and laid his hand upon his arm.
"I say, Mr Mark, sir," he said in a whisper, "do you expect to meet
them all as they comes back?"
"Yes."
"But Billy Widgeon told me this morning when they started as they was
coming back t'other way."
CHAPTER FORTY TWO.
HOW THEY STRUGGLED TO CRATER BAY.
The stowaway's news fell like a thunderbolt, and Mark felt a curious
chilling sensation come over him, as he tried to keep it from his mother
and Mrs O'Halloran. But the latter was quick at seeing there was
something wrong, and she stopped and asked what it was, and wrung it
unwillingly from the lad.
"That's bad," she said quietly. "What do you propose doing?"
Mark stared at her in surprise to see how calmly she took the
announcement of what might mean destruction, certainly a temporary
separation from their friends.
"One of us must go back," said Mark, "and try to meet them that way. I
will go."
"No," said Mrs O'Halloran; "the force is so small it cannot be divided.
They may not be coming back that way; and if they do, we must hope and
pray that they will be keeping a sharp look-out."
"But they may come right back to the camp and find the Malays in
possession."
"If they are in possession," said Mrs O'Halloran, "it would be
impossible for you to get along by them to give our party warning."
"Do you think I could get round at the back through the jungle?" said
Mark, addressing Jimpny.
"No," said the latter. "I've tried it lots of times. You couldn't get
a quarter of a mile through the woods in a day. There's no getting in
till you come to the little river."
"And that is past the camp," said Mark sadly. "Ah!"
The ladies clung together, for at that moment they realised a sensation
as if some monstrous roller were running slowly along beneath the sands
and the roots of the trees. The ground heaved like a wave of the sea,
the cocoa-nut trees rocked and bent their heads together just as the
ears of corn do when a breeze sweeps over a field, and then all was
still once more, save that a low muttering sound as of thunder ran along
over their heads, leaving them all giddy, and feeling as if the qualms
of sea-sickness were coming on.
They were to a certain extent familiar with such phenomena, and the
minute it was over the dread it caused was swallowed up by that which
was pursuing them, for a glance through the tree-trunks showed that the
Malays were still coming on.
Mark hesitated for a moment or two, and then feeling that Mrs
O'Halloran's prompt soldierly advice was for the best, he accepted it,
and led the way.
Their march grew more toilsome as they kept on, the sand appearing to
become looser and drifted up in waves among the cocoa-nut palms, while
the presence of these was alone sufficient to keep them at work
threading their way in and out till the peculiar growth came to an end;
and they were stayed by the thick jungle.
Their only way of progression now was by the sands, where the walking
would be easy in the extreme by comparison, for wherever the tide rose
and retired the sand was either level and firm or slightly rippled by
the sinking wave.
But to go along here was to place themselves in full view of the praus,
and Mark felt that they would certainly be seen.
There was nothing to be done then but risk it or wait till night, while
to hide till then might mean destruction to the party round at Crater
Bay.
"Yes," said the major's wife, "we must risk it;" and Mark stepped boldly
out, gazing anxiously back at the three praus.
They had no means of telling whether they were seen or no; all they
could make out was that the praus were coming steadily along, sometimes
sailing, at others, when the wind dropped, being urged forward with long
oars.
The heat grew more painful as the fugitives kept steadily on, unable to
select the best road on account of the necessity for keeping close in to
the trees: but at last, worn out and exhausted, after leaving the
sheltering rocks where Mark had rested during the storm, far behind,
they came in sight of one of the points or angles of the island, where
the land trended round to the north-west, and once past this the way
would be out of sight of the praus.
With this to inspire them they all exerted themselves to the utmost, and
reaching the rocks that ran out seaward they struggled by them, for the
dog to lie down panting, and the monkey to display his distress by
hurrying to a tree and eagerly picking some of its harsh sour fruit.
It was an example to be followed, though the party did not dare to rest,
but gladly partook of some of the food Mrs O'Halloran's foresight had
provided, and this and the firm sand they were now enabled to choose for
their road, joined to the knowledge that they were screened from the
enemies' view, gave strength to their efforts as they ate and walked on.
At the end of a mile they reached water--clear, cold, bubbling water--
refreshed by which they pressed on quite cheerfully till they had passed
another of the points of land and found double shelter from their
enemies' gaze.
By this time a strange alteration had taken place in the weather. The
sun, which had been shining brilliantly, now gradually changed in
appearance till it grew copper-coloured; then its light came through a
thick haze, which gradually darkened, and they were screened from the
burning rays by a black cloud, which grew more and more dense, and
seemed to float only a few hundred yards above their heads.
"A bad storm coming," said Mark, "but it may not break till we get to
the bay."
Judging from appearances, however, it was likely to pour out its waters
upon them at any moment; while, to add to their excitement, from over
the jungle there were deep thunderous noises as if the storm were raging
right in the interior.
The journey seemed interminable, but in spite of the thunder and coming
darkness they toiled on, keeping a sharp look-out over the lagoon lest
those they sought should have been in the gloom.
By degrees, though, the obscurity grew less, and seemed to be slowly
floating in the direction of the praus. Once there was the wave-like
motion of the earth again, making them catch at each other to keep
themselves from falling, and then the sun appeared, growing momentarily
more bright as it passed out from behind the dense black cloud which was
gathered about the mountain, rolling along its flanks as they came to an
opening in the jungle, and then appearing to circle slowly round and
round.
The hours crept by as they toiled on exerting themselves to the utmost,
for one of the dreads that oppressed them, now that they were out of
sight of the praus, was that they would not get to Crater Bay before
their friends started to go round the other way, though, saving on their
own account, there was a certain hopefulness about their position, since
the last they had seen of the praus showed them that they were coming
their way, and therefore they might not see the gig and its occupants
after all.
There was no fear of the captain passing the fugitives now, for as
evening approached the lagoon was perfectly clear and the sky of a
dazzling blue, but there seemed to be no end to the weary tramp over the
hot sands, and at last Mary looked so exhausted that they were obliged
to take shelter under a tree at the edge of the jungle.
"How much farther is it, Mark?" said Mrs Strong.
"About six miles," he replied. "Look here, Jimpny, we must wait here
now. You go on and warn my father, and they'll come back with the
boat."
"I shall be better soon," said Mary; but there was such a look of
exhaustion in her eyes that Mark knew she would not be able to proceed,
and he signed to the man to go on.
The stowaway looked at him blankly, and he repeated his orders.
"Yes, I see," said the man, staring stupidly, as if he were in a dream;
and starting off, he went on a dozen yards, and then reeled, threw up
his arms, and fell heavily.
Mark was at his side in an instant to find that the poor fellow was
perfectly insensible, his face blackened with the heat, and his breath
coming heavily and in gasps.
"Over exertion," said Mrs O'Halloran as she hurried up. "The poor
fellow was done up before we started."
"Will--will he die?" faltered Mark.
"No, no," said the major's wife, "I've often seen men fall out of the
ranks exhausted like this by hot marches in India."
"But what is to be done?"
"Help me," said Mrs O'Halloran. "That's it, get your arm well under
his, close to the shoulder. Now together."
Mark followed her instructions, and together they dragged the poor
fellow over the sand, in spite of their exhaustion, right up under the
trees, and then let him sink down in the shade.
"Now, Mark, you go on and get help," said Mrs O'Halloran.
"And the Malays?" he said.
"They will not see us hidden here among the trees. They will pass us if
they come. Make use of your landmarks, so as to find us, and Heaven
give you good fortune, my dear boy!"
"No, no," cried Mark. "I cannot leave you all like this."
"It is to help us," said his mother. "Mrs O'Halloran is right. You
see we can get no farther."
Mark saw that his duty lay in fetching help, and after a sharp look-out
in the direction from which danger was expected, and another at the
salient points of the shore, so as to guide him to the point where the
ladies and the sick man were hidden, he forgot his own fatigue in the
excitement, and leaving arms, ammunition, and everything weighty, he
started off alone.
It seemed as if he would never reach that ridge of black rocks which
formed the eastern curve of Crater Bay, and even when it came in sight
there was a nightmare-like feeling upon him that he was no nearer.
Then, too, his despairing thoughts would keep getting the mastery, and
asking him what he was going to do when he reached the bay and found
that there was nothing visible but the charred hull of the ship, and
that his friends were gone.
At last, though, he could feel that he was nearing the black ridge; the
sand began to change from its yellow and white coral look, and became
dashed with black. Then it grew blacker, and at last the grains were
all jetty in colour, and there was the great black pile of basaltic
rock, with its columns and steps rising higher and higher, and the
question ever present:
Were his father and the rest all behind there busy over the little smack
they had built lying now in the safe anchorage of the bay?
He could bear it no longer, and drawing a long breath, he started to
run, though it was only a feeble trot, till the rocks rose up steeply,
and he was compelled to climb slowly and painfully with many a slip, but
always urged by the sensation that if he did not use every effort he
would be too late.
He had climbed that ridge dozens of times. He knew the easiest way; but
now its difficulties were terrible, and in his heated exhausted
condition he could hardly drag himself up over the last steep block.
The nightmare-like sensation grew more painful, and he felt that he must
give way, but that dread of being too late spurred him on till he was on
the very summit, where he sank down with a groan of despair, for there,
hundreds of yards from where he lay, right on the other side of the
western arm of the black crater, was the boat with a white sail spread,
skimming along so rapidly that in another few moments it was hidden from
his longing eyes.
He raised himself upon his hands, his eyes staring wildly, his lips
parting to give utterance to a hoarse cry, but so feeble, that it was
like the querulous wail of a sea-gull, and as his cry was lost in the
immensity around, the boat glided onward and was gone, leaving him with
his spirit as dark as the waters at his feet where they filled up the
crater that lay between him and the help he had come to seek.
CHAPTER FORTY THREE.
HOW HOPE REVIVED LIKE A SUNSHINE GLEAM.
"What shall I do? what shall I do?" groaned Mark, as he stared at the
black ridge which ran down to the sea on the other side of the bay.
Then he looked down at the carefully-moored little vessel that lay near
the old charred and well-stripped hull, and lastly with a sigh at the
cloud-draped mountain high up to his left, beyond the head of the little
black-beached bay.
Wearied out, parched with thirst, and with his throat seeming to be
half-closed up, he tried to give another hail, and then, knowing that
his feeble voice would not travel across the bay, he descended slowly
from step to step, from rift to rift. Sometimes he missed his footing,
and slipped or rolled down; sometimes he lay for a few moments too much
exhausted to attempt to rise, till the thought of those who were
awaiting his return came back to him reproachfully, and struggling to
his feet once more he continued his descent, gazing anxiously now before
him in search of the praus, but the calm horizon, illumined by the
setting sun, showed no sign of enemy, and he continued his descent and
reached the sands.
"I must get back to them before it's dark," he said to himself; and this
thought spurred him on to new efforts.
"What a coward I am," he said aloud, "to be damped at such a trouble as
this! They will take care that the Malays don't touch them, and we can
get round to them in the morning."
Some insane idea of getting on board the little vessel that lay in
Crater Bay came into his mind for the moment, but with only David Jimpny
for helpmate he felt that such an attempt would be useless, and gave it
up.
He walked as fast as he could, but the pace was slow, and his feet felt
heavy in the deep sand, which was once more growing white, and as he
trudged on, wondering how soon he could get back to where his friends
were waiting, and whether he would be able to make out the spot in the
dark, the thought occurred to him that he would be able to guide his
steps easily enough by means of the luminous rim of the sea, and make
his presence known by uttering a low call from time to time, when his
heart gave a tremendous bound, and he stopped as if petrified.
"Mark! Ahoy!"
There it was again, and turning, trembling in every limb, it was to see
Morgan on the top ridge of the black rocks between him and the bay,
distinctly seen against the sky-line, while directly after another
figure appeared--that of his father.
He took off and waved his cap, for he could not speak, and then,
suffocating with emotion, overcome by exhaustion, he reeled and sank
half insensible upon the sands, but only to struggle up once more, and
try to retrace his steps toward the black rocks.
He was in a kind of dream for the next few minutes--a dream in which
sea, rocks, sand, and trees were slowly gliding round him. Then he was
aroused by a pair of strong arms catching him by the shoulders, and a
familiar voice crying:
"Why, Mark, my lad, what's all this?"
He could not speak, only stare, and as he looked in the second-mate's
face another voice rang in his ears:
"He is overcome with walking in the heat. Hail the lads, Morgan, and
we'll have him carried to the boat. Why, Mark, my boy, how foolish of
you to come--and on such a day! Here, drink."
The captain held a flask of cool fresh water to his lips, and as he
drank with avidity the reviving liquid seemed to give clearness to his
brain, and the troubles there came back to mind.
"Let me help you toward the bay, my boy," said the captain. "There,
your trouble's over now. We'll give you a ride back."
"No, no! Stop here. Listen, father," panted the lad; and then in
agitated tones he told of their position, and of those who were waiting
for succour among the trees.
The captain started and looked at his son half doubtingly, and as if he
believed that this was some hallucination; but just then he raised his
eye, and there, faintly seen in the evening haze, was the long low form
of a prau just coming out from the projecting land.
"Hah!" he ejaculated, "we have left it too long. Morgan, go and take
command, and send here the major, Small, and two men. We must help them
to the bay. No; they are wearied out now, and there is a sick man. Let
the major and you get the boat round as quickly as you can. Follow us
along the shore--but you are too tired, Mark."
"No, father; I'm better now. I felt so miserable at seeing you go--
that's what made me seem ill."
"Luckily Small caught sight of you as we were rounding the corner there,
and we put back directly. But you are not strong enough to go. Turn
back with Morgan and come on in the boat."
"I must go with you, father," said Mark desperately, "or you cannot find
the place where they are hidden."
"True," said the captain. "There, lean on me. Quick as you can,
Morgan."
The mate hurried back to where two or three more figures were visible
now on the fast darkening ridge, while the black and purple clouds about
the mountain peak seemed to grow richer in colour and to tremble as if
there was a hidden light within.
But father and son gave but a glance at this, so anxious were they to
reach the spot where the ladies were awaiting help.
The forms of two praus were now visible for a few moments and then they
faded out, and the darkness came down as if poured out of the heavens
upon the sands--a thick transparent darkness through which the stars
seemed to peer and light up the sea on their left.
They had gone quite half-way before the regular rhythmical beat of oars,
and the splash and rattle of water beneath the gig's bows were heard.
Soon after the boat was abreast of them, the waves showing up luminously
as the oars dipped.
"Now, Mark, go aboard," said the captain. "You can halt when you think
we are abreast of the place, and give me a hail."
"No; you want me here," replied Mark. "I'm not so tired now."
The captain was so anxious that he did not press him; and after a word
or two to the occupants of the boat, from which the major had sprung to
join them, they went on.
The walk seemed as if it would never end; but at last Mark pointed to a
couple of particularly tall palm-trees.
"It was about a hundred yards beyond these, father," said Mark; and as
his voice was heard a sound or two came off the water, when a low angry
bark was heard, and then a dull rushing sound of feet.
"Bruff! Bruff!--where are they, Bruff?"
The dog uttered a joyous whine as he seemed to leap upon them from out
of the transparent darkness, and five minutes later the ladies'
anxieties were temporarily at an end.
"There is nothing to mind," the captain said as he helped them down to
the boat. "The Malays will no doubt pass us by. I expect that by
morning they will be many miles away. Still it is a bit of a scare."
Neither Mark nor Mrs Strong made any reply; but the stowaway, who was
pretty well recovered from his exhaustion, whispered to Billy Widgeon
that he hoped it might be so; and then silence fell upon the boat as
they rowed slowly back toward the crater, where it was the captain's
intention to get the ladies on board the little vessel. But this proved
to be no easy task in the darkness, and at last it was decided to make
the sands their couch for the night, and then see what the day would
bring forth.
Mark was so utterly wearied out, that after partaking of his share of
the refreshments left, he lay for a few minutes gazing at the
reflections of the flickering light from the mountain cast upon the sea,
and then dropped fast asleep, but only to be awakened by a sound like
thunder reverberating overhead. It died away and all was silence and
darkness again; and then all seemed to be nothingness as he fell into a
dreamless sleep, hardly even conscious of whether a watch was kept.
Mark was awakened by a hand being laid upon his mouth and a voice
whispering in his ear the one word, "Hush!"
It was dark still and the stars were shining, while every now and then
there was a flash as of lightning followed by an intense blackness in
which the pained eyes seemed to repeat the form of the flash.
"What is the matter?" whispered Mark.
"Don't speak, but get up and follow. The others have gone on. Above
all things keep that dog from barking."
"The Malays have come!" thought Mark on the instant, and as he rose he
looked round; but there was nothing to be seen, and he was wondering
where the danger lay as he followed his father over the black sand
towards where the boat was always dragged over the low point beyond the
rocks, where he had just time to catch Bruff's head and press his hands
round his pointed muzzle; for from about a couple of hundred yards away
there came the low muttering of voices, followed by a yawn, and by Bruff
with a low muttering growl.
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.
HOW MATTERS GOT TO THE WORST.
It took Mark some minutes to get rid of the confused, half-stupefied
sensation that remains after a very deep sleep when the sleeper is
suddenly awakened; but as his head cleared he found himself threading
his way among the rocks behind his father and crossing the lower part of
the arm which separated Crater Bay from the lagoon. Once the highest
part was cleared and they were descending toward the black waters the
captain caught his son's arm.
"You may speak now in a whisper," he said. "The rocks are between us
and the Malays."
"Have they come then, father?"
"Yes; Morgan heard them come stealing along the lagoon in the darkest
part of the night, and they are lying less than a quarter of a mile
away."
"Do they know we are here?"
"I hope not, my boy; but when daylight comes they are sure to come over
into the bay, and--"
He stopped short, for a vivid light flashed out, and for a moment Mark
could see the black bay, the wreck, the little cutter-like vessel lying
by her, and a group of people down below them at the water's edge.
"Lightning?" said Mark.
"No; it is from the mountain."
As he spoke there was a dull vibration and a low rumbling sound, as if
some heavy body had passed heavily beneath their feet.
"What are we going to do?" asked Mark eagerly.
"Escape if we can," said the captain. "We cannot take the ladies
inland. The jungle about here is impassable."
"Then you are going to steal away?"
"Yes, my lad, if we can get aboard. We ought to have got the boat
across last night, Mark, instead of leaving it till now."
"Are they going to get it across the point now?"
"Yes," replied the captain; and at that moment they were joined by
Gregory, Morgan, Small, and the major.
"Ready?" said the captain.
"Yes," replied Gregory. "Come along, my lads."
Three men came up and stood waiting for orders, and the major joined the
captain.
"You understand," said the captain, "there must not be a sound. If
there is, we are lost."
"I understand," said Gregory gruffly.
"Have you got everything out?"
"Everything. She's light enough now."
"Come, major, then," said the captain. "You must be guard, Mark. Go
with the major, and help to take care of the ladies. No, stop. Perhaps
you can help me pick out the best route for the boat, but mind only one
person has to speak, and that is I. Get rid of that dog."